CHAPTER 9

Hello you

The night was still sneaking around the corners of Beckasin road. The troll hunting was over.   I stood under the whistling tree and observed the little man disappearing with his wagon down the street. The clock on the old people’s home struck the hour with heavy beats. Kling clung! With narrowed eyes I glanced down the deserted road. The smoke signals were gone. Elfvie must have changed her spot or perhaps she has given up and gone home. I folded the two circus tickets and put them in my other pocket.  The clock rang again and the bell’s jingle was caught by the wind. 

It was cold, dark and unfriendly lonesome out on Beckasin road. I sensed decision anxiety and my feet felt more or less fixed to the street.  The nervous feeling made me loosing my balance.  For a moment I wanted to run after the little man with the hat. I could still make out his clattering footsteps. The second after I wanted to go and see what Elfvie and Polo kept house. I hesitated and my will went around in my body. I stumbled one step forward and one step back and then I fell. My feet were fixed and I hit the asphalt with my palms. Slowly, I pushed away from the ground to pick up balance. Once on my feet the decision anxiety hit me again and I had to wave with my arms. Nevertheless, I fell over and sat down on the street.

My hands blistered and I blew away a few pine needles. It moved in my pocket. Gently I lifted the sequin lid and looked down at the little troll. It looked at me puppy-like with its ears drooping. The troll shivered in the corner of my pocket with the silver bean tight in its arms. I took my forefinger and tapped its head. It smiled and showed off a line of uneven teeth. Carefully I closed the lid over his head. My feet and the ground were as magnetic.  Slowly, I could pull one feet at the time but I could not lift it. Even if my feet would come off the ground, I would not know where to go. In the middle of the street I laid down. To lie on the ground gives whole new perspective of things. The small brick-houses looked bigger and the boxwood hedges seemed to be taller. Also, the chestnut trees looked different from the eyes of a beetle. Most of all everything seems so quiet.

Broad and widely the tree swung its arms above my head. The brown crispy leafs created figurative shapes like the clouds on a blue sky. I distinguished all possible men and figures. Faces with long chins and pointy noses looked down at me. An Easter bunny and some kind of other animal transcended into a locomotive. The tree moved and I could almost hear it creaking of age. But, al of a sudden I could also hear something else. A sound that was not coming from the tree nor from the wind. Quickly, I sat up. A metallic taste spread in my mouth. I shivered by the wet asphalt and of the hostile surrounding. Stressfully the troll messed around in my pocket.  His movements made the sequin jacket rattle and I put my hand on top of the pocket to make it still. I listened quietly and peered into the darkness.

My feet were still stuck in the ground. I heard the sound again and closer this time. I was not alone. Something scraped and shuffled. I pulled my legs harder this time. Please come off, I whispered. That something came closer and like a wet dog the tree shook. What I believed was autumn leafs unexpectedly lifted to the sky like a dark mist. The birds crowd left the tree naked on the pavement.  I pulled up my shoulders to my ears. As I felt like that something could come and breathe in my neck any moment.  A high whining from my pocket exposed my position and I told myself to run. After a rapid look around the retirement home appeared to be the best hide away. Since, I figured out where to go, my feet were released from the grip of decision agony and I could move them again. They were stiff of cold but still I ran.   In front of the retirement home there was a huge area that can be compared to an old schoolyard.  Yard games drawn in white chalk shone in the dark. I jumped over pools of water and finally I could put my hand on the big doorknob. The gate was closed. I knocked with both fists against the dumb wood., but no one came to my rescue. The scratching and shuffling had caught up with me. I took a deep breath, turned around and faced what was hunting the little troll and me. The black illusory tall being rose in front me. I stood eye-to-eye with someone who has been following me for a very long time.