Guy--Part Twelve

Splog # 34

Twelve

   The woman stood on the green and tried to decide on some course of action. She had thought that when she arrived at the village she would find either her children or some clue as to their whereabouts. Then she would figure out what to do next. But this was something she wasn't prepared for. No children and no one to aid in her search.

   Well, she thought, no use giving up until all possibilities are exhausted. She turned to the house nearest where she was standing. It was the home of Bord, the wheelwright, and his family. She went up to the door and knocked. The sound was immense in the eerie stillness. But it was a relief to hear something other than her breathing and her footsteps so, before there was time for anyone to respond, she knocked again. This time she waited for someone to come to the door. She wasn't surprised when her knock went unanswered. But she knocked again, partly for the comfort of the sound and partly to see if it would have any effect. She kept it up for a short time, hitting the door with the side of her fist to keep her knuckles from getting sore. After what seemed much too long a time not to have any response, she stopped banging and turned away from Bord's door.

   Across the green, there was a shop where fruits and vegetables could be purchased and also a small one-room hut where books could be bought or borrowed. Since both of these buildings were open to the public, she would be able to walk right in and see if there was any sign of the local inhabitants. So she headed across the green. On the way, she passed a large stone fountain. There was a statue of a horse in the middle of it. On the horse's back was a sheep and, sitting on the sheep, was a monkey holding a fish in its hands. From the fish's mouth there was usually a stream of water spurting up into the air and then falling back to coat the odd assortment of animals and fill the basin of the fountain. She was rather surprised to find the entire structure empty and dry. Still, she didn't take any time to stop and wonder at it.

   As she entered the fruit and vegetable shop, she was struck by the sweet smell of produce that was passing ripeness into decay. There was no one in the shop. She looked behind the counter and went into the back room. No one anywhere. She walked among barrels of apples, peaches, pears. Past baskets of tomatoes, cucumbers and carrots. There were displays of grapes and melons. It seemed to her that none of the fruit looked fresh. But, if whatever had happened had occurred just this morning, then most of the produce in the shop should still be fairly new. Her husband had come to town yesterday and returned home with no news of anything out of the ordinary. Yet one more thing she didn't understand that she had to put out of her mind in her concern for her children.

   She walked out of the shop into the fresh air. And here was something else strange. The air had a peculiar sensation to it. Not a scent or an odor but it was like air that one finds in a room that has been shut up for a long time. Simply not fresh. Heavier or drier or thicker. She hadn't noticed it until she'd emerged from the shop with its cloying smells. She'd come out expecting to get a good whiff of fresh clean air only to encounter more strangeness. With a sigh, she turned to the bookshop. It was only a few steps away and she was soon there. She looked through the small round stained-glass window set at eye-level in the door but it was quite dark within. Another surprise, as George, who kept the shop, always had it bright and open so that people could spend time comfortably browsing. She put her hand on the door latch to go in and suddenly she heard a sound.

 

It was the murmuring of water being poured on the ground. She quickly turned in surprise but saw nothing that hadn't been in sight earlier. The sound increased slowly in volume. Then she realized it must be the fountain. It was a lovely sound amid the unnatural silence and she felt drawn to it. But as she approached, she saw that whatever was flowing in the fountain wasn't water.