A CHRISTMAS TIME STORY
(A SANDAY WINTER TALE)
Jack’s hand traced a pattern into the fine wet sand, the corner of the plastic bag with the tin of beans and slightly squashed loaf flapped furiously in the wind. His duffel coat, a size too big but warmer for it, had allowed the bag to slip free. He stopped his idle tracing and tucked the bag firmly into the back of his coat. He sat and stared at the crashing waves. The sea black and grey, boiled with tangled brown seaweed. The smell was strong, like something bad rotting away but tinged with the sharp tang of sea salt. He licked his lips tasting it. Could a day so close to Christmas be so grey? He looked up and down the lonely beach, rocks buried deep now in a blanket of brown seaweed. Not that it was called seaweed up here, but then he was finding that Orcadians had different words for things. He struggled to remember but gave it up.
Jack knew that he should be going home but it was end of term and was free enough to take his time. The school was one of things he liked, but he hadn’t gotten used to the classes being so small. He was used to being ignored but now attention was like a spot light every day. His mum said it would take some time to adjust. But he wondered if he would. He found going to Roadside shop in Lady scary, it was so dark inside and the people smelt so different. Not really bad and they all looked so wind swept and bundled. At least Jimmy the man who once owned the shop had a friendly round face. Not that Jack could understand what he said half the time so he nodded a lot and kept his own mouth firmly shut.
He wondered if his friends down south missed him, he certainly missed them, and the noise and colour of the city too. The air was unnaturally clean up here; funny he missed the constant smell of car fumes! Trouble was he was lonely, he hadn’t made any new friends but then they had only been up on Sanday for a few weeks. His stomach still ached from the ferry crossings. The one to Stromness was bad enough but the Kirkwall to Loth was a much smaller ferry and as he hated roller coasters being tossed about on the sea was a never-ending nightmare. It made him sick just thinking about it. It just wasn’t his home.
It was getting darker, the sea a constant noise seemed worse than ever and the cold wind made up his mind. Jack stood up, one booted foot on the carrier bag; he brushed the grey sand of his hands and jeans. Not that it did much good, and he gave up, picked up the bag and gently began to swing it back and forth as he walked up the beach.
He had yet to see anyone else on the beach, in the few weeks he had been on the island it seemed everyone went by car. There must be some people who just walked, but Jack had yet to see them. It just made it seem so empty.
Pulling down his woolly hat, which he hated but today was grateful for, even as the wind gusted and began to polish his face red. He bent into the wind and slowly followed the curve of the bay. He looked up occasionally to check where he was, looking out for the slip of sand that marked where he climbed down over the long grassy sand bank that marked the border of the beach.
In between the sandy bits he stepped carefully on the slippery carpet of seaweed, and the rubber like stalks, or branches of some alien tree. He remembered his Dad saying that some people on the Island collected them and dried them out up the beach. Mad! Obviously some strange island tradition. But then he thought they might have been the remains of some giant multi armed sea monster, smashed to bits by the sea. Or even that the locals came down at night armed with swords, cutting the arms off in a furious battle. He imagined they held torches in one hand as they fought side by side. Then in the morning came down to collect them. They obviously left some behind today! Maybe they had eaten their fill, and were lying with their hands resting on their big bellies, that made him smile.
He pretended he was a scout checking out the area for any more sea monsters, and crouched low spying out the lay of the land. He ran and jumped, then skidded to a stop as something ahead caught his eye. In the grey light he saw a dark hump in the distance. There were gulls ahead wheeling and climbing in the wind. Maybe another monster washed ashore?
Caught up with the idea Jack crept closer, slowly he came to a rocky ledge that crossed the beach down to the sea. On his left above a crumbling cliff of sandy soil, a stone wall marked the back of a house. He didn’t know who lived there, and climbing over the stone ledge he slipped down the other side. The dark smudge in the distance didn’t move. But the birds above cried out and dived down, then glided just above the sandy cliff, following the contours of the land. It was amazing that they could do that even in this wind. Splashing through some pools, he crossed the stone and rocks until he reached the upper beach, and found a border of sand clean between the stones and the smelly seaweed. With the wind still in his face Jack couldn’t make out what he had seen. There was more sand in the wind and it made his eyes itch and water. But he kept on, determined to find out what was ahead.
It was the smell that stopped him; it was so bad that he pulled his scarf up around his face. Trying to block the smell. It partly worked. The hump he had seen from a distance was now clear. Partly buried in the seaweed and sand was a grey black back of a sea creature. It was bigger than he first thought. He had never seen anything like it. Maybe those sea monsters were real after all! He backed off, and then stopped.
Deep gravel like voice said, “ It won’t hurt you, it’s quite dead.”
Startled Jack looked up, he looked around but there was no one there.
Suddenly feeling very scared wishing he was safely home, thinking he should make a run for it. But only then realising that he had gone further along the beach than he had intended. Turning his head back and forth he didn’t know what to do.
“Hey, up here!” There was a deep friendly laugh.
Jack looked up and there sitting on a small ledge of sand jutting out from the sand bank was a man. He had a big red woolly hat, a dark and light green coat. Brown knitted gloves holding a large twisted creamy yellow stick resting across his knees.
Through round dark glasses and a silver flecked black beard the man smiled and said,” Look I don’t bite, “ a rumbling chuckle “I’ve eaten already today!”
Jack had a thought, looked down at the creature, saw what he took for bite marks, as the flesh was torn, and took a step backwards.
“Oh yea, sure!“ Remarked the strange man, and he was strange wearing such dark glasses in the depth of winter, “Obviously you think I eat whales!”
The last said with such a grim expression that Jack almost bolted. But then the man laughed and for some reason it reminded Jack of Hagrid from the Harry Potter books. Not that the man was a giant of course, he was a lot shorter but as he was staring up at him he realised he wasn’t scared any more and smiled back.
“That’s better!” said the man. Swung his stick and using it to point at the rotting carcass added, “You never seen a dead whale before?”
Jack nodded his head no.
“Umm so you don’t say much!”
Feeling brave Jack answered, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers”
“Very wise!” Putting the stick back across his knees, the man “Well you better be off then.”
Looking back down at the Whale, Jack thought it wasn’t very big for a whale and feeling curious decided to say,” Its not very big, I thought they were bigger.”
The man scratched his beard and answered, “Okay, well it’s only a baby and it’s a lot bigger than you think, it’s just buried under the sand. The storms must have been burying it for days. “
“Oh…” Was all Jack could think to say. While he stood trying to think of something else to say the Man stood up and carefully stepped down onto the stones. Leaning heavily on his stick to do so.
“Look I’m going to walk back home along the beach, you can walk with me if you wish.”
He wasn’t sure if he should and as the man began to walk away Jack made up his mind and decided if the man did anything odd then he could always run for it. He didn’t think the man would catch him as he was leaning heavily on his stick and looked like it was an effort for him to even walk. Jack found it easy to keep pace, and feeling that the man was friendly looked up at him and asked, “Where did you get such a strange walking stick from?”
Pushing his glasses up with one hand, the man replied, “It’s not a stick but a staff, and it was made for me by a very unique man who lives on another island in the Orkneys. His name is Jack.”
“That’s my name too!”
“Well, well, how curious, I wonder what the chances of that are?” The man stopped and added, “Okay Jack.” And put out his hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Feeling very grown up Jack shook the mans hand and said, “Pleased to meet you too.” And grinned up at him. It was a change to be treated like an adult and not just a boy and Jack decided he liked this strange man.
Feeling comfortable as they carried on walking, asked, “Why do you wear dark glasses? Its not summer!”
The man laughed, and replied, “True, its not, and they are not dark glasses as such. They react to UV rays. And darken even on a grey day in winter like this.”
“I thought they only reacted in bright sunlight.”
“Well, now you know.”
And that was how it began. Jack found himself talking more and more. The strange but friendly man listened to him and for the first time in ages he felt someone was really listening to him. His Mum and Dad were okay but they didn’t always have time. As they walked along, the wind died down and the sky lightened. It was still crispy cold but Jack didn’t mind as he was feeling that Sanday might not be so bad after all.
They had been walking for some time when the man suddenly stopped, leaned on his staff and looked down at Jack. “I have a feeling that I can trust you, would you like to see something curious?”
Jack’s first thought was oh oh, my Mum warned me about people who said things like that! And took a few steps back. I just hope he’s not a pervert!
The strange man must have seen something in his face and gave a tired sigh and said, “No wonder people believe there is no magic in the world, when our kids have to be taught to fear strangers.” Then chuckled and added, “and I should choose my words more carefully!”
That made Jack smile with relief and the feeling of trust in this man hadn’t changed and with confidence replied,” So what did you mean?”
“Lets find a place to sit first then I’ll tell you.”
Within a short time they had walked into the second bay along the coast. Up ahead were the sand cliffs of Cata sands. On the other side was another bay and Lady village down the road. Jack lived in a small house up the right hand road just before the village. He realised that he had walked further then he had thought. He wasn’t far from home. They had passed the golf course where the local doctor played in the afternoons. No one today though, Jack had heard his mum talk about that. It wasn’t much of a golf course and often had sheep grazing on it. The wind had dropped even more, and soon they had the sand cliffs to their left. About midway the man stopped, finding a place just under the cliff sat on the sand. Jack sat down beside him, he watched as the man struck the staff into the sand. Surprisingly it went deep, about a third of the way down. The sea was still rough but white crests on the waves were a lot softer.
In a clear soft but deep voice the strange man began, “This Island has had people living on it for thousands of years, many different people have come and gone. Now we are in a time that new people like you and I have come. Newcomers as some still like to say, but just as their ancestors were once, so we join the long line going back far into time. There have been some who have realised that this island has a special quality that has managed to survive even into this time. The spirit of this island is still strong.”
He paused and Jack saw that that the man’s glasses had cleared, and he could see that he had deep brown eyes with flecks of gold and they shone as he continued;
“And if you know how, you can talk to the island and in turn reach others.” He winked and smiled at Jack.
Now Jack wondered if this man might just be a bit mad! But then for some reason he thought that if Harry Potter, who he had always felt, ever since he read the first book, was a real person and his friends down south had thought him a little strange in the head when he mentioned that, was this any different? He continued to search those eyes for the truth of this feeling and smiled to himself. Well if you took away the beard, he could be a grown up version of Harry Potter for all he knew. Some people have said that JK Rowling is really Hermione and he guessed that this man was about the same age. Not that he was that good at judging the ages of old people. And there is a faint scar on his forehead in the right place. And they might even know each other!
Caught up with that idea he said, “Have you ever read Harry Potter?”
The man chuckled and said, “Of course! I know about Harry…”
“Your name wouldn’t be Harry?” Asked Jack.
The man just laughed, but kindly and said,”Look shall we continue or do you want to talk about Harry Potter?”
Hoping he hadn’t spoilt anything he quickly said, “No, go on.”
Smiling the man reached into his pocket and took out a harmonica. “Now watch out to sea and listen carefully Jack.”
He did as he was told and watched the sea as the man began.
At first nothing much seemed to happen, just the sound of the sea mixed with the sound of the man playing a strange tune on his harmonica. It reminded Jack of his Grandfather who had suddenly died the year before. He had a memory of his Irish uncle playing on his harmonica. That made him feel warm and then he noticed that the sky was darkening. Clouds came rushing in and as the tune changed in pitch it began to snow. Big white fluffy snow falling on the sand. His attention was drawn to the staff. It was glowing! Soft white gold light flickered over it and it seemed to be singing!! This was amazing! A hand gently touched his shoulder and he felt himself turned back to look at the sea. It was as flat as a pond and then breaking through he saw nine humps, then nine tails rise out of the water. Whales! He knew they were whales! He had seen them on TV. The tails or Flukes as he knew was the proper name splashed down and then he heard them.
It was like nothing he could have imagined. The sound filled his head, making his heart swell to bursting point as joy filled him so completely. For a moment he felt like he was deep in the sea, the sound of family and belonging brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t think it was possible to feel what he was feeling. For a moment he felt like the island was holding him up, a deep female presence wise and powerful welcomed him to her heart and with a kiss like his mothers on his brow felt a breeze bring him home to himself.
The island sang, the whales sang, the sea sang, and his heart sang with the joy of it. Then it faded, he found himself standing alone on the beach. No sign of the strange man, or the whales and the sea had returned to white angry waves.
Was it real? What had happened? He looked into the grey day, and saw that it was white and the snow was falling still. He didn’t notice the cold or that he was still holding the bag with the tin of beans and the partly squashed loaf. He didn’t notice that he had walked home.
Until the door burst opened and his mum was hugging him and laughing that he had certainly taken his time. And what a relief he was home safely. Lights from the tree, the smell and colour of the flames of the dark peat fire as he was wrapped in a blanket and a hot mug of tomato soup were placed into hands.
From a far distance a voice chuckled and a whisper said, “Merry Christmas Jack.” They didn’t ask why he smiled all the time through the holidays or why he no longer moaned about living on Sanday. He couldn’t explain he was truly home…
THE END
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