Monday 30 July 2018

Retreat to Loutro by Andrew Shephard

Loutro, on the island of Crete, is only accessible by ferryboat (from Sfakia, half an hour along the coast) making it an ideal place for a writing retreat. I travelled there in hope of making headway with a novel which had become stuck at the two-thirds point. The environment, the tavernas, the tutor Lucy Christopher, and my retreat companions worked some magic. The cloud of stuckness started to pour words like heavy rain after a dry spell.  These poems also appeared, one under a tree on long hot walk, the other on the balcony of my room after a long hot night.


On the hill above Loutro

On the hill above Loutro
a blind Venetian ruin
guards the trade of ghost ships.

A rock to sweat and breathe
solitary shade
lonely olive tree.

But not alone.
Goat shapes to scarper
downgrades the threat
decides to share my pool of cool.

His settling starts a song,
top line soft clang ripple.
Cicadas drive the rhythm,
bass, the breeze in my ears.
On drums, the sea
keeps a jazzy beat,
tipping the hi-hat
in the bluesy bay below.







Alarm

Humidity sticks mountain dust
to tiled floor.
Sheet tangles
air drains liquid,
pins body to bed.
 
You are not sleeping
You are not sleeping
You are not sleeping

Collared dove call
soft insistence to abandon sleep.
Arm reaches for snooze,
thought almost dreams.

A storm is coming
A storm is coming
A storm is coming

Stumble to shutters.
Curtain draws a sky
clear and blue as Cretan sea.

Days repeat like dove’s call
until, out of the blue,
clouds sneak over mountain,
spill relieving drops into
breakfast orange juice.





The retreats are organised each June by Espirita, a not-for-profit cultural travel organisation. It worked for me.

Monday 23 July 2018

I Really Don’t Like the Sound of This! by Dave Rigby


Kettle boils, toaster clicks, butter knife scrapes over toast
…the eight o’clock news on Friday the 9th of May…
A dog barks outside
…the Jonny Cantrell breakfast show...remember this one from 1982…
Phone rings
Williamson…at last…have you got the package?
Yes, I’ve got it this time
No more cock ups... be at The Forge at nine…this is your last chance
Rummaging in drawer, rustle of paper and plastic bag
Clatter of plates in sink…click of light switch…alarm beeps… door slams …tyres swish…horns sound…pedestrian crossing beeps
Your ticket sir - thank you
The train approaching platform 4 is the 8:20 to …
Doors swish open, doors close
…and if you see anything suspicious speak to the guard or contact the British Transport Police on…
The next station stop in approximately five minutes time will be…
Please retain your tickets as ticket barriers are in operation at this station
Doors swish open
Mind where you’re walking!
Clank of lift descending, doors open
Going up…concourse…
Ticket gates open… traffic passes by…
…you’ll want the 385 from Stand 6, next one in five minutes
Doors open
The Forge please, single and can you give me a shout when we get there
Bus engine roars
… he’s only just been let out and he’s at it again already
…how do you manage to cope with him?
…not sure as I can any longer…
A clock strikes quarter to the hour.
…no, he only served six months in the end, I wish he’d been in longer to be honest with you
…how’s your Brenda…
Your stop mate!
Doors open
Pedestrian crossing beeps, tyres squeal to a halt
Get a move on granddad!
Motorbike roars past…a clock strikes nine…footsteps running along the pavement… breathlessness…revolving door
Welcome to The Forge… can I help you sir?
Is it OK if I wait…I’m supposed to meet someone here?
Yes, you can wait in the lobby… and you’re welcome to get yourself a drink from the bar
Shoes clack on floor tiles
Coffee please, Americano, regular, some cold milk on the side
Low voices chatting
Williamson!
Yes, who are you?
Never mind that…you need to come with me…have you got the package?
Yes… I have…but I need to know who you are...if you think I’m just going to …
A bone cracks
Two sets of footsteps over tiled floor
Excuse me sir, is the gentleman alright?
No love he’s not feeling too well, so I’m giving him a lift back to his place
A car door closes, then a second
I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes… he’s after your blood… keep your mouth shut…  and put this over your head now!
Engine starts…car picks up speed…lots of traffic…less traffic…no other traffic…bird song…a tractor in the distance…a gravelled drive…engine stops
Take off the hood and get out…if you hadn’t been so difficult none of this would have been necessary
Footsteps on gravel, a door opens
Mr Williamson… what a pleasure to see you… and all the more so because you have my package…come into the kitchen and we can have a little chat and a coffee
Chairs scrape on the floor…hot drinks sipped…a mournful cow in the distance…fingers drum on the table.
This could have been so much easier couldn’t it?
Tyres on gravel...an engine stops...through the window, a Post Office van…two men…one man gets out…a loud knock on the front door
Damn, a postie, just when we don’t want one - get rid of him Harris
Front door squeaks open
Can you sign for this parcel please?
Who’s it for?
Mr Frobisher – is that you?
No, he’s no longer here…and before you ask, I don’t have a forwarding address… now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got stuff to do
Just a second…could I trouble you for a glass of water…it’s so hot out here
Back door crashes open
I’ll take this one…you get the one in the kitchen
Footsteps running across the floor…scuffles…screams of pain…silence
That was impressive…but who are you…obviously not postmen…
Out of the frying pan and into the fire for you mate… we’ll take the package thank you very much… have we got a treat in store for you!

I really don’t like the sound of this!



Monday 16 July 2018

Collier's Creek: 10 - The Showdown by Jo Cameron-Symes


It was sundown outside The Golden Horseshoe. Everything was eerily silent. There was no sign of anyone. The town was empty, shut like a ghost town. Tumbleweed blew down Main Street. The wind rattled the shutters. I told Bonnie to stay back. I stepped into the street armed and ready. Where was everyone? There was no sign of a body, living or dead, anywhere. 

“Hello?” I called, “I know you’re there.”

A man stepped out from the shadows. The brim of his Stetson was pulled down low. He was covered in dust and had a thick stubbled jaw. He sneered, pulled a pistol out from his holster and aimed it at me.

“James?” I asked. “Is that you? I thought you were dead. Are you James Lennox?”

The man walked slowly towards me. All of my instincts told me to back away but I stayed fixed to the spot. 

“James. I’m Cal Samuels, your folks hired me to find you. They’re real worried about you. I can take you back to Philly. Why don’t you put the gun down and come with me? You can trust me, I’m your friend,” I said, trying to placate him.

His sneer turned into a huge growl, almost a roar, and he sprinted towards me, his eyes flashing with fire. I aimed my gun but the chamber was empty, “Click, click,” it went and I threw it down in frustration. He kept coming, I breathed in, closed my eyes and awaited my fate. Then there was a gunshot and he crumpled. I opened my eyes. Someone had shot him in the back. He was dead.

“James!” Bonnie screamed and ran towards him. His features had softened and you could now see the man in the photo, the man that he once was. “Who killed him? Why?” Bonnie cried. Concerned that there was a sniper in our midst I picked Bonnie up. Mrs Taylor came out from the back of The Golden Horseshoe.

“What’s happened? she asked, “I was in the cellar and heard gunfire. What in blazes name is goin’ on out here?!” 

I took Bonnie to her. “Please stay inside with Bonnie, it’s dangerous out here, I think there’s a sniper hiding somewhere.” I looked up across at Jensen’s Hotel. There were so many windows, so many shutters, the sniper could be anywhere. I knew he could see us in plain sight, waiting like fish in a barrel to be shot. “Please, just take her inside,” I insisted. Mrs Taylor nodded and took a distraught Bonnie indoors.

It was deathly quiet again. Then I sensed movement from further on down the street. Out of the shadows stepped a figure wearing cattle rancher clothes and Stetson, striding along with a rifle aimed at me. Great, Billy Clements has now decided to kill me, I thought. 

“Ok Billy, James is dead. We can both see that. I’ll head back home and this ends now, you hear?”

“I’m not Billy,” the figure said, smiling and raising their face up under the brim of their hat.

“Hannah?! Oh Lord! You killed James!”

“He was getting to be a real liability,” she said, nonchalantly. “How about I saved your life 
Cal, ever thought about lookin’ at it that way?” 

I was silent. Her calm manner had chilled my heart.

“Where’s Aunt Margaret?” I asked.

“Dead,” she said, calmly.

“Why? How?” 

“I shot her. She was getting on my nerves. Plus, what she did to Bonnie, well I couldn’t forgive that, not really.”

“You do realise what you’ve done? You’ve killed two people, Hannah!”

“Oh, I’ve killed plenty more than that.” She looked over at me and smiled. “Where do you think Hank is? That wolf was mighty hungry and needed feeding.”

“You disgust me.” I said

She tipped her head back and laughed. “You know nothing about how hard it is to survive out here, Cal. You should have gone back to the city when you had the chance. Besides, James was hardly a person in the end, was he?”

“He may have been un-human in the end, but you’re the real monster Hannah.”

“I’m no monster, Mister,” she said aggressively, pointing the rifle barrel up under my chin. “You hear!” she scowled and I nodded in fear. She checked her rifle to find it jammed so threw it on to the floor and took out her pistol from her holster. 

Billy walked up the street. “Hannah!,” he said, “James is dead!” Hannah rolled her eyes.
“I know, I killed him.”

“But why? Oh, damnation Hannah, the plan’s all gone South. We lost the guns and now this! Ok, there’s nothing for it,” Billy said and turned and started to walk off.

“Where do you think you’re goin?” Hannah asked serenely.

“I’m handing us into the Sheriff. A man’s dead, Hannah, the plan’s over, it’s finished.” With that he turned and walked towards the Sheriff’s Office. Hannah aimed the pistol with one clean sweep and pulled the trigger felling Billy down. I looked across at Hannah as she blew on the top of her gun and re-holstered it. She was as calm as ever and just shrugged at me. The second gunshot brought Bonnie and Mrs Taylor outside.

“Hannah! You killed Billy!” Bonnie said.

“And Aunt Margaret and James. Also, your brother Hank,” I said.

“That’s right,” she replied. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” “And now, Mr Samuels, for my final execution of the day,” she said turning the gun back onto me. 

Everything went black.

***********************************************************************************************************

Three Weeks Later, Philadelphia.


It was a cool Autumn day. The maples were afire and a light rain misted the breeze. I breathed in deeply. It was so good to be home. 

I thought back to the final events in Collier’s Creek. I had fainted, the heat and shock of Hannah’s brutality getting the better of me. Bonnie, it turns out had saved my life by shooting dead her own sister. She was traumatised but faced no charges. The Sheriff turned up later on, he wasn’t even in his office that day but was with Carter Jensen over at his Mansion. The Sheriff said that were it not for Bonnie’s brave actions that day, no doubt there would have been many more dead. 

All I knew was that I needed to leave that place as soon as I could and did so, heading back here as quickly as possible. I was dreading seeing the Lennoxes, what could I tell them about their beloved son? I kept it brief and they think he’d become an alcoholic. That was better than telling them the truth, which they would no doubt not accept, incredulous as it sounds.

I looked at my pocket watch and hurried along, entering the gates of the cemetery just in time for the burial. I could hear the Preacher’s eulogy from afar, strident as he was, more used to projecting his voice in church. “James Lennox, aged twenty-three, taken from us by God in the unholy town of Collier’s Creek where his fate befell him.” Didn’t all our fates befall us there, I thought? I looked across and saw Mrs Taylor and with her, Bonnie, the girl who had saved my life. 

I thought back again to Collier’s Creek and James’s cruel fate. It seemed he was doomed the minute he stepped off that coach. Bonnie and many of us believed him to have died in the explosion but he must have escaped through a back tunnel just before it was obliterated. I tried to shake the thought from my mind, it was over now and I needed to look forward to the future.

After the burial I walked with Bonnie and Mrs Taylor. Mrs Taylor had wanted to go shopping so asked me if I could escort Bonnie back to their hotel. I decided to take us on a scenic route through Fairmount Park. The rain had subsided and it was a clear, beautiful day.

“You know I actually missed the rain when I was in Collier’s Creek?” I said.

“It’s so beautiful here!” Bonnie said looking in awe at all the rich autumn colours.

“I know,” I smiled.

“We don’t get real seasons out West, not like this anyway,” she said. “I’ll be sorry to go back tomorrow," she smiled, sadly.

“So, you like it here, then, in Philadelphia?”

“I do,” she said.

“Do you think you could live here, one day?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “But, I’m not ever likely to, am I?”

“I took your Mother out to lunch yesterday,” I said.

“Yes, I know, all very mysterious! She wouldn’t tell me why!” she laughed.

“I asked her what you would say,” I said, a little nervously.

“To what?”

We stopped walking and sat down underneath a bench sheltered by an arbour covered with Virginia creeper. I reached out for Bonnie’s hand and placed it in mine.

“To, marrying me?” I asked.

She frowned as if thinking. “Maybe,” she said, “On one condition.”

“Yes?” I asked.

“That we live here.”

“That’s fine by me,” I said, and we kissed.

A leaf fell and landed on Bonnie’s head.

“I’ll keep it forever,” she said.

It was a burnished fiery amber, like the sun going down on the rocks in the desert.

THE END

Monday 9 July 2018

Collier's Creek: 9 - The Big Bad Wolf by Jo Cameron-Symes


“Wait!” Hannah shouted. “I know Billy can be a hot headed fool Aunt, but he does have good in him. Good that a wife could nurture, anyhow,” she said, pulling out a ring attached to a delicate chain around her neck. 
“Hannah!” Mrs Taylor shouted “Are you married?”

“No, not yet Mother, but we are engaged. Please Aunt Margaret, give him a chance? You did say you’d do anything for your family?” 


Aunt Margaret paused then nodded and sat down. 


“You’d best be careful girl,” she said to Hannah, “if you lie down with rattlesnakes, you’re gonna get bit.”


Hannah looked annoyed but didn’t reply. It went quiet and I could hear Bonnie wailing upstairs. She called for her mother who met her on the landing then came over to me. “Bonnie wants you to read this letter, she said it would explain everything.” I looked across at Hannah and Aunt Margaret and they seemed curious but Mrs Taylor took charge. “Read it upstairs in the parlour, you’ll be able to think up there. Bonnie’s calming down now.”


I did as she said, thankful to sit in the comfort of the parlour compared to the hard chairs down in the bar. At least I would get five minutes to myself now I thought. However, my peaceful interlude was not to last…


Dear Cal,

I’ve been meaning to tell you this ever since you first arrived but I was too scared to say anything. I did know James Lennox. I met him at a dance and had been getting to know him. I did at one time hope we would be married but that hope is dashed now and has been for some time. 


James was earnest and hardworking when he first arrived here. He was eager to make his money in the mine. I had high hopes for him. The problem was Billy and his gun running scheme. We thought Billy was the Master behind that scheme then, but turns out we were wrong. 


One day in the mine James was excavating a new area when he uncovered a hidden tunnel that had been temporarily boarded up and did not exist on any maps or plans of the mine. When he broke through the boards he found barrels and barrels full of guns and ammunition. He was livid. It didn’t take long for him to find out Billy was behind it, so they got into an almighty fight. Billy, being more experienced in brawling won and took James’s beaten body way out into the desert at night and left him for dead. 


Hannah found out what Billy had done and told me so I took the cart and rode into the desert to find him. On the horizon I could see vultures circling and thought it was too late. I reached him and could see he was alive, but barely. I managed with difficulty to get him onto the cart. I wanted to drive him into town to take him to see the Doctor, but he begged me not to. He was adamant that I take him to Hollister’s Cave, about a mile from where we were. Thinking the journey into town would be too much for him, I agreed. 


He stayed there for three weeks with me nursing him and bringing him food and drink. It was strange though as apart from the initial bruises  he also had huge bite wounds. They looked as if they were from some kind of beast. I asked him how he had got them and all he would say was, “there was a wolf, a huge wolf.” Now, we don’t get wolves out this far South or so I thought. As James was a city boy I thought he must have got confused and mistaken a coyote for a wolf. I was, however, worried that the wounds would get infected and as he was so adamant not to go back to Collier’s Creek I asked him if he would mind if I brought over a healer from the nearby Indian Reservation. He was adamant that he wanted no healer, so I followed his advice, even though I didn’t agree with it.


The town folk assumed that James had moved on to another town. Ma was fairly oblivious to his presence anyhow, she never did like those from out East, much though she seems rather fond of you Cal. I encouraged their belief that James had moved on and most of the townsfolk assumed that he had.


Just over three weeks later something strange happened. I arrived at the cave one day bringing food. James was in the corner, doubled over in pain. A layer of dark hair covered his arms that I’d never seen before. Concerned, I tried to move him to help but he struck me and I flew across the room. Now, James was fairly strong, though not a patch on Billy and most of the men out here who do manual work. I knew however, he was not that strong or hadn’t been before. He shouted but it came out as a growl and warned me to stay away from him and leave him alone, never to come back for my own good. Well, he didn’t have to tell me twice. I was gone.


It was only later on when reports of dead cattle and a huge wolf being spotted made me think, crazy as it sounds, could that wolf be James? Had he been bitten by a wolf out in the desert that night? I almost laughed when I first had the thought but this is a strange place where odd things occur. Who knows what the Devil may have created? Could it be possible? Maybe it could.


I now find out that James recovered enough to go and live with Aunt Margaret. She’s always been trouble that woman, I tried to tell Ma something was going on with her with all those young men out on her stud farm but Ma wouldn’t hear of it. Turns out I was right, but the thing about Aunt Margaret is, she thinks she knows it all, when really, she’s a fool. She had no idea that James was the wolf, but the thing is, has anyone ever really seen them both at the same time? It was awful dark in that mine, who could tell? Especially as James was the one supposed to be the one ‘looking after it.’ Now, he’s dead, tortured by his own guilt. He wanted to end his life once and for all and I can’t blame him.


This all made me think. Could the man I once loved become such a monster? All I know is that I’m glad that you’re here Cal. We need your help now, more than ever.


Bonnie


I folded up the letter and held on to it. Then I walked over to Bonnie’s room. She had stopped wailing and I understood her earlier outburst more now.


“Bonnie?” I said as I knocked on the door, “It’s Cal.”


“Come in,” she sniffled.


“I read your letter. I understand it all now.”


“I wrote most of it yesterday and just finished it now. I’m just glad you’re here,” she smiled, “It feels like the Lord has sent you on a mission, to help us get out of this infernal mess.”


I smiled, “I’m no angel, Bonnie.”


“I never said you were. But I think that you know that all this needs to stop and I believe that you’re just the man to do it.”


I reached out and placed my hand over hers and we looked at one another.


A gunshot outside broke us from our reverie and startled, we ran downstairs. On our way, Bonnie fetched a rifle from the landing.


Monday 2 July 2018

Collier’s Creek: 8 – Family by Gemma Allen

“I think he got out” I blurted, before wondering if that was the right thing to say. “Think? You don’t know?” “Well, a group of men got out, I don’t know if he was one of them.” Bonnie cast her eyes down. “Where did they go?” “I’m so sorry, Bonnie, I didn’t see where they went.”
She looked crestfallen. I couldn’t help myself, reaching out to take her hand. She flinched and moved away. “I need to get back to Ma”, she muttered. “Want a lift back to town?” I nodded gratefully and clambered onto the wagon.
When we pulled up Bonnie rushed into the bar before I could even get down. I followed her in, where she was already in deep, urgent discussions with Ma. I stood there like a spare wheel, wondering how to help.
Hannah burst in. “Is he alive?” Bonnie glared at me. “He don’t know. Said there was a group of fellas got out, but ran off.” She seemed hysterical, and Hannah stood in front of her. “Calm down gal, we’ll find ‘im.” “No, he’s gone, he’s left me!” Hannah slapped her hard. “You gotta calm down!” Bonnie put her hands on her hips, and Ma pulled me back. Bonnie grabbed Hannah by her hair, and in retaliation Hannah scratched her nails down Bonnie’s arm, forcing her to let go. Bonnie then shoved Hannah with all her might, and she fell to the ground. She sprang back up and took up what looked like a boxing stance. “Hey!” Ma shouted. They stepped back from each other, breathing hard. I stepped forward, but Ma grabbed my arm to stop me. “Leave ‘em to sort it out”, Ma hissed. “You cow!” Bonnie spat on the floor by Hannah’s foot. “I know what you an’ Billy an’ Hank are up to, hunting that wolf! Billy got y’all caught up in it, cos you’ll do anything for him!” Hannah shook her hard, smiling. “You’re wrong! I’ve ma own mind! Me an’ Hank offered to help Billy, he was having trouble hurting that darn thing on his own! But someone else lured that creature into the mine to be killed, it weren’t us.” “That someone would be me.”

Silence descended as Aunt Margaret swept gracefully into the bar. Ma’s hand felt clammy on my arm. “Margaret? What you doin’ in town? You never leave the ranch!” Aunt Margaret glanced at her sister. “I had business”, she drawled, taking in the state of her two nieces. “Did you...kill the wolf? “ Ma asked incredulously. “Well, not me”, she smiled demurely. “I don’t like to get ma hands dirty. James offered to help. In exchange for me giving him lodgings. With extras...” Bonnie gasped. “What?” “Some men prefer experience, dear.” Aunt Margaret smirked. Hannah shook her head. “Jeez. Even though you knew him and Bonnie were...you know?” “I have to get things down round the ranch. Me an’ James, it was a useful arrangement.” Bonnie ran sobbing up the stairs. Aunt Margaret settled down on a chair and adjusted her skirt. Hannah walked over and jabbed a finger in her face. “I don’t care if you are ma aunt, you hurt Bonnie and you will pay!” Aunt Margaret rolled her eyes. “She’ll get over it, she’s only known him for a few weeks.” I finally found my voice. “Hang on...so, James...you got him to rig the mine to kill the wolf?” Margaret nodded. “Not just that. I knew Billy had his gun runnin’ goin’ on in there. I wanted to teach him a lesson.” “Why?” “Cos he was leading Hannah an’ Hank astray, o’course. Into all that gun smuggling, but wanted to keep ‘imself safe. And that wolf...Can’t have no one hurting the family, can I?” She looked at me defiantly. “If James hadn’t killed the wolf, it would have got him, then all of us. This is my town, I ain’t having that. So an explosion at the mine seemed like the perfect solution. “ The pieces started to fall into place. Aunt Margaret was the real sheriff of this town after all, pulling the strings. “Did James get out?” Hannah asked Aunt Margaret shrugged. “I don’t know. They all ran off.” There was a shouting outside, and I heard Billy’s voice. “Who blew up the mine?” We all peered out of the windows, to see Billy pacing around, totting a gun and waving it at anyone with the misfortune to be nearby. “I suppose it’s that time.” Aunt Margaret sighed and checked her holster. “What you thinking?” Ma gasped. “Maybe it’s time to put Billy in his place, once and for all.” Aunt Margaret strode to the door, paused and looked back. “This is for the family.”