styx
STNX
Nigel Nook was glad. He really needed this time out in Adelaide, things were getting difficult back home in Melbourne. In fact,he thought to himself, it might be a good idea to move the business to Adelaide. Yeah he frowned, Melbourne is bad news these days.
He came out of Hindly street and paused on the pavement. Would he turn left along King William road toward North Terrace and beyond? Take a pleasant stroll along the banks of the Torrens? He shook his head, Nah, he would cross the road and go into the Rundle mall. He could we it was bustling with shoppers and lunching workers on this sunny spring day. He sat on one of the benches in the mall and studied the people as they relaxed or went about their business. Listening to the chatter, he learned that some poor devil had been shot down in cold blood as he strolled along the bank of the Torrens this morning! Shit, that could have been me. Nigel Nooks blood ran cold. Enemies were every where and it really could have been him.
He got up and weaved his way along the Mall. On the other side of the mall two pretty girls were busking, and by the looks of it doing quite well as many passing shoppers were dropping coins into a bright yellow plastic bucket beside them. Almost opposite them was a narrow alleyway. It was rather splendidly named "James Place." Though he could see shops down both side of it,it was strangely deserted. Almost. Against the wall about fifteen feet inside it stood a busker. A melancholy looking man, Long unkempt copper hair and matching beard, filthy warn jeans and a black T shirt over which he wore a green checked shirt. He was softly playing a sad melody on of all things....a Banjo ! Weird. Nigel Nook entered the ally and walked past the man, dropping a dollar coin into his empty shoebox.
He entered a small store on the far side of the alley. reeking of incense it was badly lit and full of all sorts of curios. He saw a box of rings on the counter and bent to inspect them. "Only Two dollars sir"
Startled, he spun round and was confronted by the image of an old woman in a purple sarong and wearing black beads,gold bracelets and bejeweled fingers... "God, you scared the shit outa me!" Regaining his composure, he picked a ring from the box. It was fashioned in the image of a skull,a gray color it looked rather like pewter. "What is this made of?" he asked.
"Metal sir, and fine it would look upon the finger of your nephew!"
"How the devil did you know I have a nephew?" Scowling, his hand went instinctively to his inside pocket. "How do you know me?"
The woman smiled enigmatically, "all is revealed to me." Pointing at him theatrically she continued, "The time for questions,for all things has passed."
"What are you talking about you old crone?
" I am the oracle and I tell you, what must occur has occurred this day!"
Nigel Nook laughed contemptuously and stalked out into the sunlight. The busker was still strumming his mournful dirge. Nigel Nook felt disquieted , there was something surreal about this alley, still not a soul to be seen.Weird. EVERYBODY IS CONNECTING BUT NOBODY IS CONNECTED! Where did that thought come from? Shrugging mentally he moved further into the alley. He passed a quaint sweets shop, again devoid of patronage, just a shadowy figure lurking in the back ground. A women's clothing shop and a small bookstore. Over on the left hand side a Cinema, boarded up,clearly long disused. On the wall there was a faded poster advertising an old Humphrey Bogart movie, Casablanca. Next door was an astonishing thing. It was a art gallery. An art gallery? Here? It seemed deserted.Nigel Nook looked around the alley. Why was this place so dead? The sense of unreality was almost overwhelming. He thought he should get away from this place but the art gallery seemed to beckon him. He was in fact inexorably drawn.. compelled to enter, as though it were his destiny. He opened the door and stepped into the gallery.
What madness was this? The small room was empty save for the painting on the far wall. On the far wall? It WAS the far wall! Wall to wall, floor to ceiling it totally dominated the room. It was a landscape of sorts, no Constable for a certainty. In fact it was strangely featureless. Almost. A wide green field, sloping upward steeply almost filled the canvas. At the top, running the full width was a copse of what looked like Norfolk island pines. To the far right was a huge weeping willow and just visible beneath it a cottage,a small figure standing outside its door. At the very top of the canvas, and again running its full width was a thin, well perhaps two inches wide pale blue line. The sky? The sea? A river?
Nigel Nook stepped closed to the painting, reached out and touched it. He was filled with dread when something caught his hand and dragged him INTO the painting. He fell heavily on the grass he had moments before beheld from the doom. He was inside the painting! He struggled to his feet and ran toward the room but bounced of an invisible barrier and fell again. Oh God what is happening! He tried frantically, again and again to get back into the room. He could not. Out of his wits with terror and dread he ran up the slope toward the trees. Perhaps the figure by the cottage could help him! Was that an express train he could her,and a drum? He slumped to the ground exhausted. Staggering to the cottage he opened the door and went in. Nobody was there. In fact it was not a cottage. It was a reception room of some sort. Dropping into a comfortable armchair he fell asleep, fatigue overcoming his horror and dread. Night had fallen when he awoke but there was a candle burning. It was on a small table,and next to it was a newspaper. It was dated that day and the headline made him collapse in shock. It read:
MELBOURNE UNDERWORLD FIGURE GUNNED DOWN IN ADELAIDE.
At 7:50 this morning notorious crime boss Nigel Nook was gunned down by unknown assailant as he walked by the popular. Torrens river.
When he regained consciousnesses he found a hand written note on the table. It told him to pass through the tree and speak to the man in the boat he would find at the river bank. Recovering from his shock and full of outrage, believing the whole thing to be a sick joke as he was clearly alive, he decided to go find this damn fun freak and fix his wagon permanently! The trees proved to be an almost impenetrable jungle and it seemed to take hours to reach the river. Sure enough, there was the boat, and an incredibly old man, just as the note had said. "Hey you old bastard what the hell are you playing at?"
"Silence fool" The voice was powerful and its sound renewed the terror. The voice could not come from one so old. It was vibrant and full of confident authority.
Fear flooded over Nigel Nook and dread tore his voice away from him.
The old man folded his arms and fixed the man with a mocking stare, "You, you yourself and doomed to haunt this riverbank for 100 years. There is nothing else for you. Slowely the boat and the old man faded and were gone as though they had never been.
"WAIT!!!!" screamed Nigel Nook. Wait....wait.....wait....wait. Darkness fell and enveloped Nigel Nook.
FOOTNOTE.
Charon was the aged boatman who ferried the souls of the dead across the River Stynx to the gates of the underworld. He would admit to his boat only the souls of those who had received the rites of burial and whose passage had been paid with a coin placed under the tongue of the corpse. Those who had not been buried and whom Charon would not admit to his boat were doomed to wait beside the Styx for 100 years.
C Gainsford (C) coryright 2012