Chapter Five

 

Stuart is Sorted

 

 

“How we view magic is a matter of perception,” Emily said in answer to Coll’s question.

Coll, Laurel, Gort, Sarie and Emily were sitting in Sarie’s kitchen the next evening. The slanting rays of the sun gilded the grass in the pony field and lay warmly across the blue oilcloth of the table.

“What do you mean?” Laurel was confused.

“When we think of magic, as a rule, we think of things like fairies in the garden and mermaids in the bay, or shadows in the moonlight and all sorts of mystical ideals,” Emily continued.

“But it’s a fine line between the beauty that can be associated with magic and the slide into darkness which can happen if you tip over the edge. You know how the old sayings go, if you follow the fairies home, you return either mad or a poet,” Sarie added.

“Aisling says it like magic holds up a mirror to your heart, and what you are inside is reflected back at you,” Gort piped in.

“Aisling is not so far from the truth,” Sarie agreed. “How we behave and how we view the world comes back to us for good or ill.”

“But what did you mean about perception? Don’t things just exist as they are?”

“It’s how we view things on a personal level that can make two people see the same thing, but interpret it exactly opposite. For example, walking the beach at low tide, a person can see all sorts of glittery bits of sea polished glass and rocks. Some will see them as treasures from the sea; others will walk right over them without really noticing them. Whether we acknowledge them or not, they’re still there. Even your own perceptions can change from one moment to the next. Take walking alone in the moonlight for example. You know how one minute it can be all lovely and beautiful, and then somehow, something changes; and suddenly it’s not all silvery star shine. Now, the shadows aren’t friendly anymore, and they hide secrets in their midst. Where one moment there is harmony, and you feel completely safe, the next it seems danger is everywhere. Some of us will only ever see the beauty and bright side of magic. While we are aware the balancing dark side does exist, it doesn’t really touch us.” Emily paused.

“But for some,” Sarie took up Emily’s train of thought and continued, “the dark side is all they know, so only the darkness exists for them. Like Daniel. So in answer to your question Coll, you did see the darker side of the magic last night. Daniel was correct in a way to call them demons, but they were demons of his own making. His anger and rage and just plain meanness of spirit were reflected back at him.”

“But I thought the piskie was a friend of Aisling’s, and she asked them to torment Daniel.”

“Aisling is far too smart to ask a piskie to do anything specific for her. What she did was point out the wrong done to Gort, who is her good friend and therefore, in the piskie’s way of reckoning, under Aisling’s protection. She let the piskie decide how he should deal with the situation,” Sarie explained.

“At least Uncle Daniel agreed I could stay here with Sarie for a fortnight,” Gort said happily.

“He would only talk to me through the locked door!” Emily laughed. “He was sure I had a whole flock of “little demons” with me just waiting for him to open the door.”

“Did ya get him to agree to let Gort go to Padstow with us?” Coll asked.

“He did say Gort could come with us.” Emily nodded and smiled at Gort.

Laurel and Coll exchanged relieved looks across the table. Now they only had to make sure Aisling could come along, too.

“I’ll just go along tomorrow and have a word with Alice. I’m sure she’ll let Aisling come with us. We’re going to visit with my friend, Jane,” Sarie said.

Coll grinned, and Gort beamed from ear to ear.

“Jane is Aisling’s aunt. Tom’s sister,” Coll whispered.

“If Alice won’t agree, I’ll get Jane to give Tom a ring and invite Aisling for a visit. Tom can never figure out why Alice gets so hysterical about Aisling going to the festival.” Emily shook her head. “Whatever disagreement a man and wife might have behind closed doors, it won’t much matter; Aisling will be allowed to go. Tom will make sure of it.”

* * *

Laurel and Coll leaned on the rough fence of the pasture and watched the ponies grazing in the lush grass. Emily and Sarie were deep in some discussion about perception and reality, so they took the opportunity to go visit the horses. They left Gort fast asleep in the big armchair.

“Does any of that make sense to you?” Coll furrowed his brow as he spoke.

“Kind of, but not really.”

She narrowed her eyes against the setting sun, making huge rays of light shoot out of the blazing ball as it continued to sink behind the trees. She slipped through the fence and started across the thick grass towards the ponies. Coll followed, catching up with her just as the ponies came mooching over to see if there were any treats to be had. Laurel laid her hand on Lamorna’s shoulder and brushed the heavy forelock out of the mare’s eyes. The pony regarded her with huge dark liquid eyes. Coll scratched Gareth under the chin and searched his pockets for something suitable to offer the inquisitive pony. Laurel laid her hands on either side of the pony’s face and rested her forehead against Lamorna’s.

“What do we do about Stuart?” she asked Lamorna. “He can’t just get away with treating people the way he does.”

“Do ya think Stuart’s mean because someone else is nasty to him all the time?” Coll cleared his throat.

“I don’t much care. He just can’t go around acting like poison.”

“I guess you’re right. But it can’t be fun having Angela for your mother, constantly crowing about how great you are and going on about your exalted family history. And Ted, well from where I stand, Ted’s a right bully.” Coll moved to stand beside her and she lifted her head. Lamorna regarded him thoughtfully from under her forelock.

“Still, we have to figure out what we can do to stop Stuart from setting his gang of bullies on Gort and whoever else they torment. Without getting my dad all hot and bothered,” she added as an afterthought.

She pulled away from Lamorna and walked across the pasture with her head down. Coll sauntered along at her side; the ponies and large draft horses tagged behind them like a row of ducklings. Laurel stopped at the old barn and leaned against the sun-warmed granite of the foundation. Some bats fluttered about in the gathering dusk. In the wooded valley of the White Lady’s spring an owl hooted. There didn’t seem to be much anyone could or would do through official channels. Stuart’s dad being the local police was an annoying obstacle as far as she was concerned. Not so much different from Cora-Anne back home being the daughter of the guidance counselor.

Laurel smiled at Coll as he leaned on the wall beside her. Coll bent his knees and slid down the rough stone until he was sitting on the ground beside her feet with his legs stretched out in front of him, his back against the barn. The last vestiges of the sun buried itself in the fringe of the trees, and the first stars pricked out in the twilight sky.

As she watched the darkening sky, Laurel was surprised to realize she hadn’t talked to Chance or Carlene in almost two weeks. Alberta seemed more than a world away right now, except for her mom. The doctors were trying some new treatments. Mom sounded so tired but said the pain wasn’t as bad. Laurel bent her knees and slid down the side of the barn to sit beside Coll on the still warm earth. The granite wall of the barn felt solid and good against her back. A tear wound its way past her nose. Coll pulled a dirty handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her without saying a word. He shifted into a more comfortable position and spoke without looking at her.

“You can’t go getting your knickers in a knot about stuff you can’t do anything about, ya know.”

Laurel’s laughter snorted out her nose. “My knickers in a knot…” She giggled. “Wait ‘til I tell Carlene that one!”

“I was trying to make you feel better.” Coll sounded offended.

“I know you were. Actually, you did make me feel better, I think.” Laurel laid her hand on Coll’s arm. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. It just sounded so, oh I don’t know, like something Emily would say. Not you.”

“Do you laugh at me with your friends from back home?” Coll said angrily.

* * *

For some reason he couldn’t fathom, Coll wasn’t ready to forgive her for laughing at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Of course I don’t!” She scrambled to her feet and shouted down at him. “If that’s the kind of person you think I am, why do you want to be friends with me at all?”

The ponies snorted and backed away hastily as she stormed back across the field toward the house. Coll sat for a minute longer and then jumped to his feet. He kicked at an unoffending clump of trefoil by his boot. He couldn’t decide if he was mad at Laurel or just the world in general. Nothing was working out the way he imagined it should.

“Bloody hell! All I was trying to do was make her feel better,” Coll said to the circle of inquiring pony faces.

Arthur nudged Coll with his big black nose and snuffled in sympathy. His wise dark eyes advised Coll not to even try and figure out what the female members of his species thought or even how they arrived at their conclusions. Coll stroked Arthur’s sleek black neck. Lamorna gave Coll a shove in the back, knocking him forward toward the lights of Sarie’s house gleaming in the darkness.

“I don’t know what I have to apologize for,” Coll told the mare grumpily.

Lamorna regarded Coll with her dark starlit eyes and snorted all over his shirt.

“All right, all right, I’m going.”

Coll backed away from the mare and started across the dew-laden pasture. Before he reached the fence, his feet and pant legs were wet with moisture. Could the night get any better? He looked down in disgust. The hooting of the owl in the valley carried across the dark pony field and followed Coll as he made his way up the path to Sarie’s back door.

Coll pulled the door shut behind him and turned to see Laurel’s white face across the table from a thunderous-looking Sarie. It took a second for Coll to see she wasn’t looking at him but at the kitchen door leading into the front hall. Daniel and Ted stood in the doorway. Daniel looked like he was on the verge of being sober; at least, there was no whiskey bottle in his hand. Ted was doing his very best to look officious as he hooked his thumbs in his belt and hitched his pants up on his ample hips.

“Figures you’d be here, a nest of trouble makers that’s what you are,” Daniel spat at Coll.

He took a step back and closed his mouth, which had dropped open in astonishment at the scene before him. Laurel’s chin quivered as she fought to hold back tears. Coll skittered around the edge of the table to stand beside Laurel and glare at Ted and Daniel.

“I asked you to leave my house, Ted. You have no business here this night,” Sarie said, her voice low and dangerous.

“I want my nephew you kidnapped from me, you divil spawn!” Daniel made sure he got his two cents worth in, Coll noticed. Coll’s breath caught in his throat at the dangerous light which flared in Sarie’s eyes when Daniel took a step toward the table.

“Emily has Gort, as well you know. She came around and told you she was taking him to London to see a specialist.” Sarie sounded remarkably reasonable, considering she was visibly vibrating with anger.

* * *

This was the first she had heard about Emily taking Gort to London. Laurel returned her attention to Daniel as he shifted his eyes from one place to another.

“Who do ya thinks’ gonna pay for the whelp to see some specialist?” Daniel sneered. “It inin’t comin’ out of what I get. Ain’t hardly enough to put bread on the table.”

“But it puts whisky in your belly, don’t it!”

“That’s enough out of you,” Ted bellowed at Coll. “I'll arrest your Gramma, and where’ll that leave you!”

His shaking hand gripped Laurel’s shoulder. She knew he was making sure she didn’t throw something at Ted. Muttering under her breath, she shuffled her feet but didn’t challenge Ted or Daniel.

Emily was nowhere to be seen, and Gort was missing from the chair he occupied when they slipped out earlier. She hoped fervently Emily was with him upstairs or somewhere safe where Daniel couldn’t lay hands on him.

“I looked through all the sheds on this godforsaken place and can’t find him,” Stuart said from the back door of the kitchen.

Why is Stuart here at all? Just when you think things have gone about as far south as they can, doesn’t this throw a whole new dimension into the drama? Laurel reached up and closed her hand over Coll’s in warning. Now it was her turn to worry about Coll losing his temper and jumping Stuart right here in Sarie’s kitchen. Coll’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the table before they relaxed slightly. Coll regarded Stuart like he was a snake just come out of hiding.

Sarie pushed her chair back from the table and drew herself up to her full height. She looked down her nose at Ted, pointedly ignoring Daniel and Stuart.

“Ted, I have asked you to leave my premises. You have no right to be here, and if it pleased me, I could charge your son with trespass. You don’t have a search warrant, or you would have waved it around before now. If you don’t leave at once, I’ll call Sam Pritchard over in Mousehole and ask him to come and remove you.” Sarie was barely holding on to her anger.

“There’s no need to bother old man Pritchard,” Ted said uneasily.

“Oh, but I will if you don’t leave this instant.” Sarie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Laurel let out her breath when Ted grabbed Daniel by the arm and dragged him down the narrow hall to the front door. As he left the kitchen, he jerked his head at Stuart to leave by the back.

“You haven’t heard the last of this.” Daniel’s nasal voice carried down the hall as Ted thrust him out the front door.

Laurel got up, closed, and locked the back door. She turned and leaned against it with her hands clenched behind her back. Coll picked up the tea mugs knocked over on the table and mopped up the spilled tea from the floor. He finished rinsing the dishrag in the sink just as Sarie re-entered the kitchen.

“Who’s Sam Pritchard?” It’s nice to know Ted is scared of someone.

“He’s Angela’s granddad and the Chief Constable over in Mousehole.” Sarie smiled. Laurel knew she meant the small village of Mousehole even though Sarie pronounced the name as Mouzel.

“Him and Ted don’t ’zactly see eye to eye, if you know what I mean.” Coll grinned. “That was brill of you Sarie, to think of mentioning old man Pritch.”

“I do have my moments,” Sarie agreed.

“Where is Gort?”

“He’s upstairs in your room. It seemed the best place to hide him.” Sarie glanced at the ceiling as she spoke.

“Is Gramma with him?” Coll asked.

“She is. You’re both staying here tonight. I’ve fixed a cot in the spare room for you, Coll.”

“What about me?” If Gort was in her bed, and Coll was in the spare room, where was she supposed to sleep?

“Why you can have the bed in the spare room,” Sarie said, “if you’ve finished arguing with Coll and promise not to kill each other in your sleep.”

“Okay,” Laurel said, drawing the word out.

She guessed it wasn’t much different than camping out with Carlene and Chance down by the Old Man River. It just felt kind of weird to think about sleeping in the same room with Coll. The more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t figure out why she felt that way.

“Is Gramma really taking Gort to London?”

“Emily is leaving with Gort on the first train out of Plymouth tomorrow morning. He needs some help in sorting out his nightmares and how Daniel treats him,” Sarie said.

“Why Plymouth? Isn’t that pretty far away?”

“It will be harder for Daniel to follow them. He’ll just assume they’ll leave from Penzance. By the time he figures it out, Emily and Gort will be safely on their way to London. Once they get there, Daniel will have no way of knowing which way they went.” Sarie sounded quite pleased with the plan.

“Why’s he got to go to London? What’s wrong with Doc Eli?” Coll demanded.

“We’re hoping the specialist will advise Gort be removed from Daniel’s custody and placed with Emily until he’s of age.” Sarie sighed as she spoke.

“Can they make Daniel give him up? He won’t want to lose his monthly dole.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see. Now it’s time you two were off to bed. We have to leave before dawn to get to Plymouth in time for the London train.” Sarie waved them toward the stairs. “Mind you don’t wake up Gort on your way.” Her voice floated up the dark hall behind them.

The bedroom seemed small in the dark. Laurel was very aware of Coll rustling around on the cot just a few inches from her bed. In the faint light from the window, she could make out his face as he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. The starlight glinted in his eyes, so she knew he was still awake.

“How long do you think Gort will have to stay in London?”

“Don’t know. I never thought to ask. I don’t reckon it should be long. If they weren’t going to be back in time to go to Padstow, Sarie would have said.” Coll’s voice hung in the still air.

“Would you mind very much if Gort came to live at your house?” She wasn’t sure how she would feel about having to share her parents with another kid, even one of her best friends.

“No, I think it would be bloody brilliant! Gort’s me best mate, and I hate he has to put up with the shite Daniel hands out. You don’t know what it’s like for him,” Coll said fiercely.

“That’s good then; night, Coll.” Laurel turned over and pulled the quilt up over her shoulder.

“Night.”

It seemed she just shut her eyes when a horrible screeching brought her bolt upright in bed. Coll was sitting up as well, but he seemed more worried than scared by the loud wails. Laurel screwed her eyes up against the glare as she groped for the wall switch and turned on the overhead light. The hands on the old alarm clock by the bed said it was two a.m. The volume of the screeching increased. It sounded worse than the barn cats back home when they decided to fight over some female cat.

“What’s that noise?”

Maybe it’s Daniel come back to take Gort away.

“Let Gramma and Emily deal with it,” Coll said, his voice quiet with worry. He twisted the quilt between his hands. “It’s Gort having nightmares again.” Coll frowned at the nails on his right hand. “Daniel coming here tonight will have set him off. This was one of the places Gort always felt safe.” Coll threw the quilt onto the floor in disgust and scrambled from the cot to stand at the window.

“Does it happen often?” How can anyone keep letting Gort go through this?

“Often enough,” Coll said roughly.

Slowly the screams faded; there were footsteps in the hall and then water running in the bathroom. The floorboards outside the door creaked just before Sarie opened the door and smiled wearily at them.

“I thought you two would be up. Gort’s fine now. Emily has got him back to sleep. You best try and get some sleep; we have to be up and away in another hour and a half.”

Laurel turned the light out and tried to settle back in her bed. Coll continued to stand by the window. She tried to think of something to say to him, but nothing seemed to be the right thing. Finally she settled for lying on her back and looking at the ceiling waiting for the time to go by.

She was already up and dressed when Sarie came to wake her. Coll was snoring under his pile of blankets on the cot, having finally abandoned his post by the window. Sarie shook him awake and went downstairs to wet the tea. Laurel padded after her and was setting mugs on the table as Coll stumbled into the kitchen. Emily and Gort followed on Coll’s heels. The yellow light spilled through the windows into the pre-dawn darkness. Are Daniel and Ted out there, hiding in the darkness, waiting to grab Gort before we can get to the car?

It was a subdued group who piled into Sarie’s car. The engine sounded loud in the stillness. The headlights of the car pushed back the night. Soon they were speeding north and then eastward towards Plymouth.

“Sorry if I kept you up last night,” Gort whispered.

Laurel snorted. “It’s Daniel and Stuart who should be sorry.”

Coll put his arm around Gort and grinned at him. “Thought you were gonna pop a lung that time.”

“Felt like it,” Gort grinned back.

She stared from Coll to Gort and back again. How can they joke about something as horrible as last night? I will never understand boys. Ever.

The sun swung clear of the eastern horizon as the train for London roared its way into the station. Gort looked very pale and small as he stood with Emily on the platform. Coll kept looking over his shoulder, as if expecting Daniel or Ted to show up at any minute. The dusty oily smell stirred up by the train’s arrival made Laurel wrinkle her nose and sneeze. As soon as the train came to a stop, Emily and Gort clambered on board and found seats by the window. Gort waved at them and smiled. Sarie shifted her weight from foot to foot, impatient for the train to get on its way to London. When the train pulled away from the station, the three left behind heaved a collective sigh of relief.

“Well, that’s that then,” Sarie said.

“Let’s get home before anyone knows we were gone.” Coll headed for the car park.

On the way back to Penzance, they quietly discussed how they should deal with Stuart. Nothing they could come up with seemed to be the right thing.

Presently, the long night and early morning caught up with Laurel and Coll. Silence descended as both fell asleep, the breeze from the open window ruffling their hair.

Laurel rubbed her eyes and sat up when Sarie stopped at a crossroads. She was surprised to see they were almost home.

“Can we stop and pick up Aisling?”

“I’ll stop and see can she come, if you like,” Sarie agreed.

Before long, Aisling joined them in the back of the car, and they were headed for Sarie’s. After a quick bite to eat, they headed out to the barn to saddle the ponies for a ride.

The late morning sun was warm on their heads as they jogged along the track, not headed anywhere in particular. The chimney of an abandoned tin mine stood out on the horizon, and without really deciding to go there, that’s where they ended up. The gorse and grasses grew long and wild around the foot of the tower. They let the ponies graze as they rested, and Laurel admired the view.

“What kind of mine was it?” She was familiar with the coal mines in the Crowsnest Pass back home.

“Tin. This was called the Ding Dong Mine,” Coll said.

“That’s a weird name.”

“No one really knows why it’s called that. Some guy wrote a history book and said it might mean ‘head of the lode’ or refer to the outcrop of tin on the hill. There used to be three mines there, the Good Fortune, Wheal Malkin and Hard Shafts Bounds. The name Ding Dong didn’t come into use until the 18^th century. There’s a bell in Madron church called the Ding Dong Bell that they used to mark the end of the last shift of miners at the mine.” Aisling supplied some more information.

“Are all the old mines around here tin mines?”

“Most of them. There are some old granite quarries though,” Aisling said.

“How old are they? How long have they mined tin here?” The sun felt good on her back.

“They mined tin way back before the Romans came to Cornwall. They called this the Tin Isles and Cornwall was referred to as Belerion at one time. Some of the old folks say the Phoenicians used to come to St. Michael’s Mount and trade for tin. Others say it was the Scillies they went to when they were still part of the mainland before the flood,” Aisling said.

“How come you know all that?” Coll demanded.

Aisling regarded Coll regally. “Some people like to know about the place where they live. I love reading the old stories and imagining what it was like when the stories were happening. Some of the older folks, like Old Joseph, know the best stories, the ones that are passed down and haven’t ever been written about in the books. Someday, I’m going to write down all the old stories I know.”

“I think that’s a cool idea.”

“Do you know any stories about tin mines?” Coll asked.

Aisling thought for a minute, and then a big smile spread across her face. “Have you heard of the knockers?”

Coll shook his head and slid down off Arthur’s back. Laurel jumped off Lamorna’s broad back, and Aisling slid off her pony, too. The three ponies shone in the afternoon sun. Laurel was glad they decided to ride bareback. She always felt so much closer to her horse without a saddle. They took the ponies’ bridles off so they could graze without being encumbered by the bits. Laurel smiled fondly as the three big black butts of the ponies disappeared over the crest of the hill. She knew they wouldn’t go far, and the ponies would come when they were called. Failing that, she knew Aisling could ask the piskies to bring them if they wandered too far.

* * *

“All right then, the knockers.” Aisling settled herself comfortably in the grass. “This is a story Joseph told me last week. His Da used to be a miner and so was Joseph before the mines closed up, and he took to fishing for pilchard.”

“Joseph’s Da was called William, Will for short. Will took Joseph to the mine when he was about thirteen years old. Times were bad, and they needed the extra money, so Joseph quit school and started working in the mine. At first the thought of being all that way underground with no way to get out but up the long narrow shaft with the creaky hoist lift gave Joseph nightmares. It was way better than when they had to scale the long shaky ladders to get in and out, though. But he said that after the first month, he just stopped thinking about it. It helped he always worked on his Da’s gang, so his Da looked out for him as best he could.”

“It was terrible dangerous, so Joseph said. He saw men in his gang lose their fingers and break bones all the time. There were no safety regulations or anything back then. It was dead hot down at the mine face, over one hundred degrees. You couldn’t complain. Your family needed the money. You just went down the hole, did your job, collected your pay, and shut your trap. Some of the mines would fill part way up with water when they got deep enough, and they would have pumps going to keep the water out of where they had to work. Joseph said the worst sound he ever heard was the silence when the pumps broke down, or the petrol ran out.”

“It happened one time when Joseph was working a night shift. Someone grabbed him and ran for the lift, Joseph figured it was his Da, but once they got up on top, he saw it was his Da’s mate, Tom. Joseph couldn’t see his Da anywhere. The sky was covered in low clouds, and it was dark as pitch. Joseph asked Tom where his Da was, and Tom wouldn’t answer him. He couldn’t look Joseph in the face at all. Well, Joseph, he gets all upset and angry at Tom. Yelling at Tom, why didn’t Tom save his Da instead of him? Joseph knew he couldn’t never earn enough to keep his mom and sisters; they needed his Da for that. Tom, he grabs Joseph and lifts him off his feet and holds him out at arm’s length so Joseph will stop beating on him.”

“‘Joe,’ he says, ‘Your Da weren’t dead the last time I saw him! He was after saving some of the others and told me to get yu clear. Joe! Do ya hear me?’

“So Joseph stops trying to do damage to Tom, and Tom sets him back on his own pins.

“‘Where’s my Da then?’ Joseph demands.

“Tom looks all kind of funny and says real quiet like, ‘He ain’t come up yet, Joe. He shoulda been up by now.’

“Well Joseph, he doesn’t know whether to cry, or beat on Tom again when suddenly there’s a whole lot of commotion over by the mine head, and Joseph sees them pulling some men from the lift. Joseph runs over there as fast as his legs will take him and looks at the men they’ve laid on the grass. They’re all mates from his gang, but his Da isn’t there. Tom comes up behind him and puts his hand on Joseph’s shoulder.”

“‘There’s more on the lift Joe, you know your Da wouldn’t come up and leave any of his mates behind.’”

“Tom tries to sound like he believes what he’s saying. The men on the lift are pulling another man out onto the grass, and it’s Joseph’s Da! Joseph falls on his knees by his Da’s head, but his Da has his eyes closed and is breathing all funny. Joseph sits there holding his Da’s hand and praying to anyone he thinks will listen that his Da has to be all right.

“He doesn’t know how long he sat there, but then old Doc Ellerly, ‘cept he was young Doc then, comes up and moves Joseph away. Doc works on Joseph’s Da for a bit and then gets up to go the next man. Joseph grabs Doc’s arm and tries to keep him from leaving his Da. Doc kneels down and holds Joseph’s arms so he can’t move. Doc tells Joseph his Da is going to be fine. He has got a lot of water in his lungs, and he’s had a nasty whack on the head, but he should be fine in a fortnight, maybe a month at the most. Doc gets up and moves on the next man.”

“Joseph feels like all the air’s been let out him. He’s happy his Da is all right, but he feels the responsibility of having to be the breadwinner for his house for a fortnight, maybe a month. Joseph’s only been down the mine maybe six months now. He still has to rely on his Da and some of his mates to help him find the best spots to gather the tin. Joseph he wonders how he’s ever gonna make enough to put bread on the table and pay Doc’s fees. He starts to figuring. Maybe they can do without eggs and pay Doc with eggs. It wouldn’t cover all of it, but it was someplace to start.”

“Then Joseph’s mom and sisters show up with half the town behind them. The news of the accident spread like wildfire after Doc Ellerly headed for the mine. His ma gets his Da on his feet and between them they get him home and settled in bed.”

“Well, the next night, Joseph has to go to work without his Da. It feels really strange to take that long familiar walk alone. Joseph liked having the time alone with his Da when they walked to and from work. It was like just ‘man time.’ Joseph always felt closer to his Da when they shared the quiet time walking over the hills to the mine in the predawn darkness or the late evening. But this night Joseph goes alone.”

“He meets up with Tom not far from the mine, and they head down into the mine together and meet up with the rest of their gang. Tom tells Joseph he can work with him that night, and so they set off looking for the best lode of tin they can find. The hours are long, and the work is hard. Joseph is sure he hasn’t got enough tin to justify his night’s labors. He’s in a part of the mine where the pumps don’t sound so loud. Joseph, he sits down and decides to eat his supper. When he’s finished, he makes sure to leave a croust of his pastie for the Knockers.”

“What’s a Knocker?” Laurel interrupted.

“Knockers are small ugly spirits who live in the tin mines. Joseph’s Da told him all kinds of stories about them. But most importantly, you must always leave a croust or part of your meal for the Knockers. Some of the miners would spin yarns about Knockers leading miners into dangerous parts of the mine, or playing cruel tricks on them for not sharing with them. The Knockers figuring the miners were coming into their territory, and they should leave something in exchange for the tin that they took; it being only neighborly and all to do that.”

“So now Joseph gets up and adjusts his hat so the little candle on it is shining as best it can. He looks around and tries to decide which way he should go. Somewhere he’s got separated from Tom, but Joseph thinks that’s all right. He can find his way back to the lift and he’ll catch up with Tom there.”

“Then, Joseph thinks he can hear someone calling his name real quiet like. He twists his head this way and that but can’t make up his mind where they’re calling from. The voice seems louder in his left ear, so Joseph he turns to his left and starts along the narrow tunnel. There aren’t any side tunnels off the one that he is following, so Joseph is sure he can find his way back. Pretty soon the voice becomes louder, and there is more than one voice calling him. All of a sudden he hears this knocking just ahead of him. Well, Joseph he almost messes his pants.”

“He really did say that!” Aisling said as they laughed at her choice of words.

“Anyways, he’s scared. It’s got to be the Knockers! But Joseph left them some of his pastie, and he always leaves them something, just like his Da and all the men in Da’s gang. The voices keep calling him, and he figures he’s come this far, he might as well see it through. Besides he wants a word with these guys. Where were they when his Da was in danger? He thought his Da had told him the Knockers would look out for those who treated them with respect.”

“Joseph feels a little bolder because he’s angry now, not just scared. Next thing he knows, he’s in a little room burrowed out of the stone, and there’s a whole bunch of these little stringy ugly men with beards. The lamplight is flickering, so it’s hard to make out too many details. There’s hardly any oxygen for the lamp flame to feed on. Joseph just remembers that they were some ugly.”

“Joseph he just stands there not knowing what to do; then one of the men steps forward points to the wall beside Joseph. Joseph carefully looks at what the man is pointing at. He doesn’t want to take his attention away from the group of weird guys in case they try something. What Joseph sees makes his stomach drop and his heart jump.”

“There’s a tin lode in this cavern, loads and loads of top quality tin. More tin than Joseph has seen in one place before. How could his Da’s gang have missed this spot? Joseph looks back at the man who pointed. The little man’s face splits in a grin from ear to ear, and Joseph realizes the creature’s mouth really does go from ear to ear, and it’s full of pointy teeth.”

“‘Are you Knockers?’ Joseph asks because he doesn’t know what else to say. He never was too quick thinking on the spot. Too late he thinks maybe he has insulted the men by asking that.”

“‘We are the spirits of the mine. We guard the tin. You can call us that if it suits you.’ The creature’s voice was deep and gravelly. The other Knockers look at Joseph and laugh. Their laughter is like rocks shifting and grating and rolling under water.”

“‘We’ve led you here to gift you with this tin. Your father is a ‘ansome one who always leaves us a croust, and he’s taught you to respect us proper. The word is you and yours could use a stroke of luck and more pennies in your trousers. For a fortnight, not one day more and not one day less, we will lead you here and help you gather the tin. No one else will be able to see you or follow you. This is our gift to your Da for all the generous croust he has left us over the years.’ The Chief Knocker bows as he finishes talking.”

“Well, Joseph is dumbfounded, but somehow he manages to stammer out his thanks and then takes his fill of tin. Every night for a fortnight the Knockers are true to their promise, and one of them leads him to the cavern. Joseph’s Da is relieved his family isn’t suffering for his accident. Joseph tells him about the Knockers and the reason for their generosity. His Da isn’t quite sure if he believes Joseph, but he can’t argue with the amount or quality of the tin that Joseph is finding.”

“Joseph spends a lot of time with his Da when he isn’t working, and his Da is getting better. His Da tells Joseph old stories about the Knockers and how they can be beneficial to those they approve of and deadly to those who don’t treat them with respect.”

“‘Myths or no, it costs me nothing to leave a croust for those who might need it,’ Will tells Joseph.”

“Every day since then, until his last day in the mine, Joseph would leave a whole pastie for the Knockers. He says even now sometimes he will make an extra big bunch and walk up to the mine and leave them on a flat rock just inside. Joseph says without the Knockers help his family would have starved when his Da couldn’t work. Joseph says the Knockers are cousins of the piskies.”

Aisling stretched her arms overhead as she finished the story. Laurel wasn’t sure she believed everything in the story. But it surely was a fine story to hear sitting in the grass outside the Ding Dong Mine on a sunny afternoon.

“That’s an awesome story. Do you think it’s true?”

Aisling shrugged. “Old Joseph tells it like it’s true.”

“Bloody hell!” Coll’s hoarse whisper made the girls spin around.

Standing on the crest of the hill behind them was Stuart and three of his mates. A nasty smile hovered on Stuart’s lips.

“Well, look who we have here,” Stuart crowed. “Where’s your snivelly friend?”

Coll leaped to his feet and stood with his hands on his hips to confront Stuart.

“None of your business,” Laurel growled through her teeth. All the fun had gone from the golden afternoon.

“C’mon Stu, let them alone,” the shorter heavy-set boy beside Stuart said uneasily.

“Just when I have them all the way out here, all by their lonesomes?” Stuart grinned.

“George is right. Let’s just go do what we were going to do,” one of the other boys said. “My ma gave me bloody hell over that incident at Old Joseph’s. I can’t see Evelyn for a fortnight.”

“I don’t think I want to let it go,” Stuart said smugly.

“Well, I’m quits then. I bin in nothin’ but hot water since you started picking on people.” The third boy in the group made a sideways slashing movement with his hand.

Almost simultaneously, the three boys turned and disappeared over the brow of the hill.

Laurel felt the power shift in her direction and let out a small breath of relief. She wanted nothing more than to beat Stuart senseless and leave him lying on the stone strewn ground around the head of the mine. Fortunately, common sense, in the form of Aisling, took the forefront.

“Look, Stuart. Let’s just forget about this,” Aisling reasoned. “You can still catch up with your friends and go drinking over by the quoit like you planned.”

Stuart’s eyes widened and a flush swept up his face. “Whaddo you know about any drinking?”

Aisling smiled easily. “Of course, I know. Some friends of mine told me they chased you away last week.”

“Friends of yours.” Stuart was clearly puzzled. “There weren’t nobody around. We just thought we heard voices behind the stones, but it was the wind blowing through those old holes.”

“Then how do I know?” Aisling refused to ease Stuart’s mind by agreeing with him.

“Blamed if I know.” Stuart seemed unsure now. “What kind of company you be keeping?”

“The kind of company who visited Daniel the other night.” Aisling smiled widely at Stuart. “I’m sure you know all about it, seeing as how you were at Sarie’s with your Da and Daniel, and Daniel raving about demons and such.” Aisling took a step closer to Stuart who backed away from her.

* * *

“Not so brave without your mates are ya?” Coll finally found his tongue. He had never heard Aisling openly admit to having any truck with piskies or spirits and such.

“Sod you,” Stuart shouted and launched himself at Coll.

The dirt and grass flew in clumps as the two boys wrestled on the ground. Stuart had a size advantage over Coll and used it to end up on top. Blood ran down Coll’s face from a cut over his eyebrow, and he grunted as he landed at hit on Stuart’s nose. Coll was pleased with the amount of blood that gushed out. That one’s for Gort.

The air rushed out of Coll’s lungs as Stuart’s knee made contact with Coll’s private parts. The pain, instead of deflating his anger, sent it to new levels. With a massive heave, Coll managed to get out from under Stuart and scrambled to his feet. He saw Laurel jump forward to help him, but Aisling caught her arms. Coll spared a moment to be glad she wouldn’t be in range of Stuart’s fists.

“Let them figure this out fair and square. We’re no better than them if we gang up on him,” Aisling said breathlessly. She looked like she wanted to bash Stuart a few times herself.

Stuart ducked quickly and came up with a large rock in his hand. Without stopping, he threw it will all his might. He missed Coll but struck Aisling sharply on the shoulder. Laurel caught her as she sagged to the ground holding her arm to her side.

Coll was really angry now and systematically worked Stuart around so he was backing up toward the lip of a deep pit. Coll faked a lunge and then came around, caught Stuart by surprise and knocked him to the turf. Quick as a flash, Coll leaped on top of Stuart and held his right arm back with a heavy jagged rock clutched in his hand poised to strike Stuart in the face. Stuart’s face was white under the dirt and blood.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t bash your brains in,” Coll was panting heavily. “All you’ve done is give me and my mates grief and then hide behind your father.” He spat in disgust.

Aisling gently put her good hand on Coll’s shoulder. Coll flinched but didn’t take his eyes off Stuart.

“Let him up Coll,” Aisling said urgently. “What would your Gramma think if she saw you right now?”

“Sarie’d say to smack him.” Laurel growled.

He stared hard into Stuart’s eyes.

“Let him up, Coll,” Aisling repeated gently. “Murdering him won’t do us any good and will make a bigger mess than we want to deal with.”

Slowly, Coll lowered the jagged rock to the ground, and Laurel hastily kicked it out of Stuart’s reach. Coll sat on Stuart’s chest, and his sweat dropped onto Stuart’s chin.

“Touch Gort again, or bully anyone else, and it won’t matter what anyone says, I will hurt you,” Coll said grimly.

She tugged on Coll’s arm, and he got shakily to his feet. The three friends backed away from Stuart as he struggled to his feet. Without looking any of them in the eye, Stuart started back across the moor in the direction he had come.

* * *

Afterward, Laurel could never remember how long the two boys battled in the afternoon sun. It seemed like forever when they were fighting, and when it was finally over, it seemed hardly any time passed. Both boys were sweating and filthy, Stuart’s shirttail hung from his pants, and Coll had a rip in the knee of his jeans, which flapped every time he took a step. It struck her as very funny, although she didn’t know quite why.

The sound of the ponies’ hooves on the turf vibrated in the air as the three black heads appeared over the top of the mound behind them. The ponies must have heard the shouts and came to see what all the excitement was about. Wordlessly, the three friends bridled the ponies and clambered up onto their broad backs. Laurel helped Aisling find a tall rock to stand on, in order to compensate for her sore shoulder. Thankfully, it looked like it was only a bad bruise.

“I’ll tell Mum I fell off trying to jump something,” Aisling said gaily as they rode along through the orange gold of the sunset.

* * *

Coll was quiet as they walked along; he felt very empty and small now the terrible anger had left him. A film of cold sweat broke out on his forehead as he realized he had really wanted to hurt Stuart. What would he have done if Aisling hadn’t grabbed his arm. He vowed he wouldn’t ever let himself get that angry again, no matter what.

Coll thought about the stories of King Arthur’s knights he liked so much. They were always talking about battle rage and how time seemed to slow to a crawl, when in reality the hero was moving very fast. He wondered if what happened to him this afternoon was what they were talking about. Coll always thought it would be cool to be in that magic state where you were virtually invincible. Coll shook his head. He didn’t ever want to go there again, if that was what it felt like. It scared him senseless. Arthur tossed his head as Coll’s hands trembled on the reins, his unease communicating itself to the pony.

“What do you think Stuart will tell his parents?”

Coll shrugged. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell his Gramma.

“Hopefully he’ll make up a story. Stuart won’t like to have to admit Coll did that much damage,” Aisling said

* * *

They rode the rest of the way home in silence and just as quietly fed and groomed the ponies when they reached Sarie’s. They told Sarie the truth and ate a small supper, all the while waiting for the phone to ring, or Ted to show up at the door. Darkness fell, and still there was no word from Stuart’s father. Just when Laurel was beginning to think it was safe to relax, the shrill of the phone made them all jump. Sarie answered it and talked quietly for a time. They exchanged anxious looks and waited for Sarie to end the call.

“That was Emily. Gort is doing fine. The doctor wants him to stay another week. They’ll be home in time to go to Padstow with us.” Sarie smiled at their white faces.

“That’s great news,” Aisling said and smiled into the fire in the hearth.

“What about Stuart?”

“I’m hoping Stuart is smart enough to leave you lot alone from here on in. Time will tell,” Sarie finished dryly.

Laurel nodded and hoped she was right. Beside her Coll’s face was turning spectacular shades of red and blue. His nose was swollen, and his knuckles were scraped and raw. Sarie gave Coll an ice pack earlier, and he was alternating it between his face and his knuckles.

“Time for bed, you three,” Sarie announced; her voice followed them up the narrow hall as they filed up the stairs to wash and get into bed. “Things will be better in the morning, and hopefully this thing with Stuart has sorted itself out for the time being.”