The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1475 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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“Da pain is easin’,” said Theresa as I continued to apply what I hoped was healing energy.

“Don’t you think we ought to call the paramedics? If you have injured your back, they have special lifting equipment.”

“Me don’t want no ambulances, me jus’ needs you, you have da powah.”

“I’m not happy with this at all, Theresa, I think we need a health professional here to make sure we’re not doing more damage.”

“Jus’ pull me up,” she insisted and now all I wanted was to get away and back to the safety of our home.

“Simon,” I called and nothing happened. “Simon,” I called again only louder. Still no one came. “Hold on a moment Theresa, let me get Simon, he’s probably talking to someone in the street.

“Who would he know round here?” she asked and I shrugged which was pointless as her head was still hidden by the chair. “Me can feel me feets,” she declared from under the chair.

“Oh good,” I said and walked towards the front door muttering, ‘If you’re stood talking while I’m in here doing all the work, it’ll be you who needs the ambulance, Simon Cameron.’ I got to the door and right outside was parked the Mondeo but no sign of my husband. Where the hell was he?

I looked up the street and down it, I even walked into the middle of the road but there was no sign of him. He’d seemingly vanished into thin air–unless of course some Japanese whalers had appeared. I shouldn’t joke, but he is getting quite plump and he always blames my cooking. I tried to explain that he was responsible for what he shoved down his throat.

Puzzled and not a little concerned, I returned to the house and went to speak with Theresa. “Simon seems to have gone off somewhere.”

“Oh dat’s jus’ great, why does we have to suffer dose men?”

“They’re quite good at carrying the shopping,” I said trying to keep it light hearted though all the while I felt uneasy.

“Me suppose so, where’s Peg?”

“Who’s Peg?” I asked although I did have suspicions that it was the woman who’d let us in to the house.

“Me friend, she opened da door fa you.”

“She was here a minute ago. Peg?” I called but there was no answer. Things were getting even stranger now–one thing was certain, she hadn’t run off with Simon–he may have run from her, but not the other way round.

I went in search of her but couldn’t find her, I went back to Theresa, “Looks like they’ve both disappeared.”

“Why is dat?”

“I have no idea.”

“You better help me up den.”

I certainly didn’t anticipate trying that by myself. I pulled the over turned chair away from her and righted it. I didn’t know why I hadn’t done that in the first place it gave quite a bit more room.

I eased Theresa into a sitting position, and then got her to turn round and adopt a kneeling position, I then pushed the chair towards her and helped her clamber up it. A few anxious moments later and she was sitting in it looking exhausted.

“Who’s da old woman?” she asked me, her eyes beginning to glaze over.

“Old woman,” I looked around but was on my own save for Theresa and she seemed to be going into a trance or a petite mal. Or perhaps it was shock from her fall? I tried to speak to her but she looked at me with a strange expression and her eyes were obviously not seeing me.

“Good evening, Cathy,” she said in a voice which wasn’t her own.

“Theresa?”

“No, she is taking a little rest and allowed us to use her body.”

“Who’s us?” I felt quite worried.

“We think you know that already, Cathy.”

Well it sure as hell wasn’t EIIR, who is the only person I’ve heard talk in the first person plural; her and that loony goddess thing–shit, it’s her again.

“What d’you want?” I asked angrily, “If you’ve hurt my Simon, you can go take a running jump.”

“Simon is fine. He and Peg think they’re helping to free a trapped hedgehog.”

“What d’you mean think?”

“They are both standing in the rear garden completely oblivious of anything, but they are both safe.”

“They’d better be.”

“Or what, Catherine? What are you going to do to us, seeing as you’re a mere mortal and we are a goddess?”

“So you keep reminding me and as I keep reminding you, I don’t believe in fairies or Santa Claus.”

“That is a great pity, we have met both.”

“That figures,” I replied.

“We think you are being disrespectful of us–you will apologise.”

“I think you’re the one who needs to apologise–you set this whole thing up–I should be home helping Billie with her homework.”

“We agree that we caused this to happen, please be ready to remove your clothing.”

“What for?”

“You will need to be anointed.”

“Annointed–what for?”

“You are the chosen one, it is written that you will be anointed.”

“I don’t think so, written where?”

“You must believe us.”

“I wouldn’t believe or trust you if you were the last goddess on earth.”

“We are not.”

“Pity,” I mumbled.

“We think your disrespect needs challenging, which of your children would you like to die first?”

“You what?” I gasped, “You can’t do that?”

“As they say in the films, ‘Just watch us,’”.

“Stop it, don’t you dare hurt my children.”

“It always works, except in the case of the pharaoh–he was too stubborn for his own good.”

“Pharaoh, as in Egypt?”

“The very same, we took his firstborn.”

“And you want me to respect you? You’re just a megalomaniac.”

“We are a goddess, you don’t seem to understand.”

“No I don’t understand. If there is a God, and you’ve just terminated one of his models. He isn’t going to like that very much.”

“Our brother will understand.”

“If he’s a typical male god, I think there could well be a large difference in what is said and done. Simon has known me a couple or more years, he still complains that he doesn’t understand me.”

“Our brother is a god, he will understand; he understands all.”

“In which case he’ll understand why I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You have an indebtedness to us, you have no choice in the matter.”

“Try me, missus. Now open this door.” I pulled at the door to the room which had been open a few minutes before.

“You have no choice, you have been chosen.”

“I’d like to call a recount.” I paused, “Chosen for what?”

“You will learn in time.”

“I want to know now.”

“You are unready to learn this now.”

“Learn what?”

“You will know this as you become ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“To do our bidding and fulfill your purpose.”

“Will you stop talking in riddles and cut to the chase?”

“There is no point in us telling you now, you will not understand.”

This worried me somewhat–understand what? Some form of higher emotion or experience–like grief? What if being ready meant losing someone close to me?

“I hope this being ready doesn’t mean any of my family or friends suffering?”

“We are unable to tell you.”

“I know because I’m unready–who d’you think I am, Ethelred?”

“Who is Ethelred?”

“You’re a goddess, find out.”

“Your insubordination will bring you grief.”

“Let this woman go, what has she done to you?”

“She was a convenient way of summoning you.”

I was speechless with anger. “How dare you use human beings as puppets?”

“It is our privilege.”

“And you wonder why I want nothing to do with you?”

“You have no choice.”

“Maybe.”

“It is written.”

“Writing can be erased or unwritten.”

“You would dare to challenge the scriptures?”

“I’ll challenge anything I suspect is wrong.”

“This is blasphemy.”

“How can it be blasphemy? The scriptures were written by men–men can be wrong.”

“You think too much.”

“Perhaps you think too little.”

“Shall we kill her, this woman of no significance, to teach you a lesson?”

“If you do, then I shall guarantee to never be ready for your purpose.”

“You will be ready.”

“I prefer to be asked, not told; led, not driven. If you want me to respect you, show me you’re worthy of it, release her and cure her disease.”

“Would you prefer we gave her suffering to you?”

“No, I asked you to take it away from her as a demonstration of your munificence.”

“And what will you do in return?”

“I will respect your generosity.”

“Very well–she will remain in remission as long as you respect us.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you to do?”

“We do not bargain with humans.”

“Pity, no wonder there’s little respect amongst rational people for belief in superstition, which is all religion is and the scriptures the scribbles of disturbed minds.”

“You want her to die?”

“That’s up to you, I told you what I asked for and what I was prepared to give in return.”

“She will die then.”

“Fine, let her die, but find another chosen one, because I just quit.”

“It is written.”

“Rubbish, now kill her and stop wasting my time or do as I ask you.”

“Your insubordination will cost you dear.”

“Yeah, I’ll stop believing in fairies and Santa Claus and stop others too. You lot only exist because people believe in you.”

“We were here long before human kind.”

“Fine, go deal with a dinosaur and leave me in peace.”

I turned to leave and a force whirled me round and slammed me into the door backwards.

“She will remain in remission as long as you respect us.”

“Thank you, that was all I asked you to do, your generosity is respected greatly, your ladyship.”

“Your courage would be commendable were it not based on stubbornness and stupidity.”

“Perhaps you do understand me after all.”

An iciness seemed to fill the room and pass through me, the front door slammed and Theresa slowly came round. “How d’you feel?” I asked her.

“You still have da powah?” she said stood up and hugged me. “Cathy, you is a miracle.”

“I think negotiator might be nearer the truth.”

She roared with laughter and Simon followed Peg into the house, “Bloody hedgehog,” he said loudly.

Peg was laughing, “The more he tried to free it the worse it got tangled.”

“We have to go, Theresa–you should be okay for a bit.”

“As long as you have da powah, me is fine.”

“C’mon, Miss Dynamo, let’s see if Trish has done the rest of that number plate,” said Simon grabbing my arm, “Bye, Theresa, Peg.”