EpilogueA Chapter by Peter RogersonRounding things up...“I know a few interesting ways through the woods, though none as interesting as dad found when he was a kid,” said Jack to Jonny, "ask him some time and he’ll tell you about dead bones!”. “I know. He told me,” replied his very identical twin brother, “though I’m not so keep on looking for old bones!” The two boys happily called themselves The Two Jays as their parents had arranged for them to have the same initials as themselves, and they wanted to keep the idea alive for the future. The Two Jays! “When I saw you lying flat ion your back I thought you were me and I was turning into crumbling bones,” laughed Jack, “I know it sounds daft, but you really do remind me of what the mirror says I look like, even down to your school clothes being almost the same as mine!” “I wouldn‘t mind spotting old Chalky’s bones though,” said Jonny, “he was the least popular teacher at school, and when I saw him here and not back in Brumpton I thought he was actually mad and stalking me across the country!” “That’s why he’s been locked up,” nodded Jack, “because he;s crackers.” “And just because he was sad because his twin brother died before he was born,” shivered Jonny, “I mean, bro, think of it… if you had died ilke that, the last thing I’d want was to make out you were still alive in my head!” “So gross! Same here, bro,” grinned Jack “Then there were those weirdos he called his gloopy friends,” said Jonny, “I mean, gloopy! It’s not a real word, surely! And when dad went out to round them up, not one of them had a kind word to say about Chalky. In fact, they weren’t taking him seriously and dad says not one of them wants anything to do with anything gloopy!” “But it has cost dad his job,” Jack reminded him, “Now tnat the danger of the gloopy tdrrorists has been shown to not be real he’s being sent to somewhere really spooky! At least, he says it is, and as soon as he can he’ll have arranged somewhere for us to live away from these trees and the memories of what’s happened here.” “With auntie Angela,” agreed Jonny, “what do you reckon he’ll be up to next? That Major fellow seems to think he’s quite good.” “His job is to sort out bad sorts politically before they get dangerous ideas, and cause a revolution or something like that.” Jack told him, sounding as if he knew everything about it when he really only had a vague idea. “As long as there are no Chalkies and no gloopies we’ll be all right,” he added. “Did you wonder if dad would hit it off with that detective Inspecter? Florence he always called her, by her fist name and with a twinkle in his eyes?” “No chance, bro. She’s nice, but not into blokes. Can’t say I blame her, seeing the sort of blokes there might be around.” “We’ll be blokes soon enough,” grinned Jonny, “with beards if we like, or moustaches and big you know whats!” “I don’t really fancy having to shave every say, and dad says some old men get their dinner trapped in their whiskers until it gets stale enough to poison them if a bit falls into their mouths!” “Gross, bro! But I reckon I’ll be really into pretty girls,” sighed Jonny, “there was one girl at my last school in Brumpton who I really got on well with. I thought she was real pretty and her name was Rosie. Rosie Talbot. And, you know, she was dead clever” “I reckon I’ll stay a kid a bit longer,” murmured Jack thoughtfully, “I‘ve never had a girl friend, probably because all the girls at my school were ugly as pot dogs,” he added with a grin. “What about Angela and dad?” mused Jonny, “do you reckon they might… you know what… get along?” “Oh, they’re friends,” smiled Jack, “and dad’s got no idea that I know, but more than once she’s slept in his bed all night with him. And anyway, when we move it’ll have to be a house with enough bedrooms for the four of us to have one each, like Emerald Cottage, or they might end up sharing a bed full time!” “I’d have liked to cuddle up to Rosie,” sighed Jonny, “and tell her how nice I think she is. But I’ll probably never see her again, and that’s not nice for me to think about.” The two boys wandered off back towards their home. There was still plenty for them to talk about, so they did. But the name Rosie Talbot managed to crop up once or twice before they arrived back home in time for tea. “I’ll go and find her again one day,” vowed Jonny. © Peter Rogerson 26.07.24
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StatsAuthorPeter RogersonMansfield, Nottinghamshire, United KingdomAboutI am 80 years old, but as a single dad with four children that I had sole responsibility for I found myself driving insanity away by writing. At first it was short stories (all lost now, unfortunately.. more..Writing
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