The Shortcut
The short cut.
Sara wore her flared blue denim skirt her off the shoulder red gypsy blouse and the dangly onyx earrings Brad had given her. Her long blond hair was tied in what she called side ponies, at eighteen she decided pigtails sounded too childish. Subtle eye-shadow emphasised her vivid blue eyes.
Brad swallowed hard, she was so beautiful. As they stood together outside the farmhouse in the bright sunlight Brad took her hands and squeezed them gently. “Try and understand Sara,I have to go...”
“No” Sara retorted “Braddy,Braddy, there is no such thing as got to.” Her eyes flooded with tears.
“Please stay Braddy...please”
Brad pushed her away and turning on his heel began to stride toward the highway. His heart filled with pain,anguish and regret.
“Braddy! What did I do? Tell me....we can fix it, please Braddy!
Unwilling to turn lest she see his heart breaking he snarled “Get inside woman and forget you ever met me!”
“Braddeeeeee!!!!
“Bugger off” he roared and her pleas changed to heart wrenching sobs.
He walked a good two miles along the highway without once looking back. At last hearing a vehicle approaching Brad turned and walked slowly backward,thumb raised. The dusty old pick up rattled and squeaked to a standstill beside him. “Would you like a lift son?” The old man asked him kindly.
Stupid question, what the hell else I got my thumb up for? Brad asked silently.
“Yes sir, that would be great!”
“Hop on in then son, hop in” the old man smiled.
“Yor travlin light son, goin far?
“Reckon” Brad answered stoically.
“commin back agin?
“Nope.”
“Wail son, I only go as far as Ellensbrook, so....”
“That’s fine old timer, will you point out the road to Judderton from there?”
“Judderton? That’s a long way boy”
“But can ya show me?”
The old timer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I kin do better than that son, I kin show you a shortcut that will half the distance.”
“Far out old timer, that's great!”
A few miles further down the road the old man pulled over. “See the row of bushes over yonder, an the rusty old gate?” the old man whispered conspiratorially.
“Ya mean the gate with the sign that says no trespassing” Brad whispered back.
“Yup, climb over the gate an you'll see a dirt road. Foller it an it'll take ya clean through ta Judderton.”
“Will it?” Brad asked doubtfully.
“Yep, straight ta Judderton.”
“But the sign....”
“Don't pay that no attention boy,it was to keep people away from the silver mine,” but, he shrugged, it was worked out an shut down years ago.”
“An that’s a legal shortcut ta Judderton now?”
“Whall” the old man drawled, “gits used fer that.”
“So”Brad asked, why are we whispering?
“Whispering?” The old man looked around shiftily, “don't rightly know.”
Brad frowned, What do you mea..., I don't need no trouble with the man”
“The old man locked eyes with Brad. Don't worry none about the man kid.I gotta git goin , jest climb over the gate an start walkin!”
“All right” Brad sighed, he had nothing to lose anyway. “Thanks for the lift.”
The old man drove away without another word. Brad stood watching him recede into the distance then he walked cautiously toward the gate and the shortcut beyond.
He could see that the woodlands were starting to encroach upon the road,though it was still quite well defined. “These boots were made for wallkin' “ he laughed to himself as he strode boldly along. Before long the road deteriorate and the scrub closed in. Now the road was a mere track about four feet wide and the ground was uneven. Branches seemed to snake out and slap or stab him and coiling roots entangled his feet and sent him sprawling several times. Brad had been walking for about three hours now, he was tired and hungry and with the approaching nigh the light was starting to fail. Twilight time, or zone he giggled foolishly. Better find somewhere ta sleep he thought.
At that moment he saw it. “FRIAR TUCK'S TAVERN.” It was brightly lit and cheerful music was playing loudly. Brad was confused,why the hell didn't I see or hear this place he wondered. Musta been concealed by the bushes an sound plays tricks at times, he reasoned. He was tired and hungry, so it was with some trepidation that he stepped into the tavern.
He found himself in a room about forty feet square. There was a bar running along the left hand wall, from a door behind the bar he could smell what seemed to be food cooking. His mouth watered. A Surly barman glowered at him. At the back of the room a set of stairs led to an upper floor and Brad could see a row of doors. Guest rooms? A dance floor occupied the middle of the room. At the right hand end of the dance floor a midget sat on a stool. He was feverishly playing an accordion. Nobody danced, though there were a number of people sitting at tables.
Brad hesitantly walked over to the barman who ignored him.
“Excuse me barman.”
Slowly the barman turned toward Brad, “What?”
“ shouldn't that be “what'll if be?”
The barman scowled. “I don't want anything, I am an alcoholic.”
“No” said Brad, “your supposed to ask me what I want!”
“I did already,you lookin for trouble?”
“Hell no” Brad retorted, “just a beer an somethin ta eat, maybe a bed for the night.”
“Ah!” smiled the bar tender, “ a Friar's ale and a pea and ham pizza coming up!”
“Whoa, what else is on the menu?” Brad tried to look friendly, “an make that a millers mid strength please.”
The barman leaned on the bar, his face inches from Brad's. “We got Friars ale an pea an ham pizza buster.”
“Well then,” Brad said, “Think I will have Friar's ale and a pea and ham pizza.”
“Good choice” beamed the barman. “and if you still want a room” he added, “we have no other guests tonight so you can pick any one of those rooms on the top floor there” he added,gesturing to the row of door as the top on the stairs.
“So how much is this gonna cost?” Brad reached for his wallet.
“Nothing” the bartender replied flatly. “It never cost anything to stay here. Not since we opened”
“Nothing!” Brad clamped his forehead between his middle finger and thumb. “How long ya been open?”
“Since the place got built,” the bar tend replied enigmatically.
“You sure this isn't the Hotel California?” Brad asked half jokingly. Something is sure as hell wrong here he thought.
“The WOT??”
“Don't worry about it” Brad smiled."Goodnight."
"You have not eaten yet" the barman chortled."Ya gotta eat ya know."
"Too tired" Brad said. The long and difficult day was rapidly catching up with him. "I will have it for breakfast ,then I will be checking out.” I hope Brad, Brad thought,noting the bedroom door had no lock.Despite it all he soon fell asleep.
The light was very bright and someone kept jabbing him in the side with a stick or something.
“Please don't go” wailed the voice of Sara and Brads eyes shot open. He was laying in the dirt on the track, the shortcut. The tavern had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Sara was sitting on a nearby rock,she was looking at him strangely. She had a long pitchfork. As he watched she metamorphosized into a hideous demon,the ground opened and swallowed them both and as he fell Brad smelt the strong odour of sulphur. This was the final phase of the shortcut. He was being claimed. He just hoped the devil kept his part of the deal.
“Look at this Sara” her younger brother yelled excitedly.
“What is id Daniel?”
“It's a letter from uncle Bills attorney, he's dead, uncle Bill not the attorney, he got mangled up in a harvester and he left three million dollars to us. It's a miracle, we won't lose the farm now!
Sara was stunned. This had to be a coincidence, it had to be. But what id it wasn't? What id Brad really did sell his soul to save Sara's family farm?
Sara was three things, young, impulsive and hopelessly in love. She would so anything, just anything the devil wanted, if she could just have her Braddy back.
The devil pricked up his ears and smiled.
C Gainsford (C) copyright 2012
Sara wore her flared blue denim skirt her off the shoulder red gypsy blouse and the dangly onyx earrings Brad had given her. Her long blond hair was tied in what she called side ponies, at eighteen she decided pigtails sounded too childish. Subtle eye-shadow emphasised her vivid blue eyes.
Brad swallowed hard, she was so beautiful. As they stood together outside the farmhouse in the bright sunlight Brad took her hands and squeezed them gently. “Try and understand Sara,I have to go...”
“No” Sara retorted “Braddy,Braddy, there is no such thing as got to.” Her eyes flooded with tears.
“Please stay Braddy...please”
Brad pushed her away and turning on his heel began to stride toward the highway. His heart filled with pain,anguish and regret.
“Braddy! What did I do? Tell me....we can fix it, please Braddy!
Unwilling to turn lest she see his heart breaking he snarled “Get inside woman and forget you ever met me!”
“Braddeeeeee!!!!
“Bugger off” he roared and her pleas changed to heart wrenching sobs.
He walked a good two miles along the highway without once looking back. At last hearing a vehicle approaching Brad turned and walked slowly backward,thumb raised. The dusty old pick up rattled and squeaked to a standstill beside him. “Would you like a lift son?” The old man asked him kindly.
Stupid question, what the hell else I got my thumb up for? Brad asked silently.
“Yes sir, that would be great!”
“Hop on in then son, hop in” the old man smiled.
“Yor travlin light son, goin far?
“Reckon” Brad answered stoically.
“commin back agin?
“Nope.”
“Wail son, I only go as far as Ellensbrook, so....”
“That’s fine old timer, will you point out the road to Judderton from there?”
“Judderton? That’s a long way boy”
“But can ya show me?”
The old timer looked thoughtful for a moment. “I kin do better than that son, I kin show you a shortcut that will half the distance.”
“Far out old timer, that's great!”
A few miles further down the road the old man pulled over. “See the row of bushes over yonder, an the rusty old gate?” the old man whispered conspiratorially.
“Ya mean the gate with the sign that says no trespassing” Brad whispered back.
“Yup, climb over the gate an you'll see a dirt road. Foller it an it'll take ya clean through ta Judderton.”
“Will it?” Brad asked doubtfully.
“Yep, straight ta Judderton.”
“But the sign....”
“Don't pay that no attention boy,it was to keep people away from the silver mine,” but, he shrugged, it was worked out an shut down years ago.”
“An that’s a legal shortcut ta Judderton now?”
“Whall” the old man drawled, “gits used fer that.”
“So”Brad asked, why are we whispering?
“Whispering?” The old man looked around shiftily, “don't rightly know.”
Brad frowned, What do you mea..., I don't need no trouble with the man”
“The old man locked eyes with Brad. Don't worry none about the man kid.I gotta git goin , jest climb over the gate an start walkin!”
“All right” Brad sighed, he had nothing to lose anyway. “Thanks for the lift.”
The old man drove away without another word. Brad stood watching him recede into the distance then he walked cautiously toward the gate and the shortcut beyond.
He could see that the woodlands were starting to encroach upon the road,though it was still quite well defined. “These boots were made for wallkin' “ he laughed to himself as he strode boldly along. Before long the road deteriorate and the scrub closed in. Now the road was a mere track about four feet wide and the ground was uneven. Branches seemed to snake out and slap or stab him and coiling roots entangled his feet and sent him sprawling several times. Brad had been walking for about three hours now, he was tired and hungry and with the approaching nigh the light was starting to fail. Twilight time, or zone he giggled foolishly. Better find somewhere ta sleep he thought.
At that moment he saw it. “FRIAR TUCK'S TAVERN.” It was brightly lit and cheerful music was playing loudly. Brad was confused,why the hell didn't I see or hear this place he wondered. Musta been concealed by the bushes an sound plays tricks at times, he reasoned. He was tired and hungry, so it was with some trepidation that he stepped into the tavern.
He found himself in a room about forty feet square. There was a bar running along the left hand wall, from a door behind the bar he could smell what seemed to be food cooking. His mouth watered. A Surly barman glowered at him. At the back of the room a set of stairs led to an upper floor and Brad could see a row of doors. Guest rooms? A dance floor occupied the middle of the room. At the right hand end of the dance floor a midget sat on a stool. He was feverishly playing an accordion. Nobody danced, though there were a number of people sitting at tables.
Brad hesitantly walked over to the barman who ignored him.
“Excuse me barman.”
Slowly the barman turned toward Brad, “What?”
“ shouldn't that be “what'll if be?”
The barman scowled. “I don't want anything, I am an alcoholic.”
“No” said Brad, “your supposed to ask me what I want!”
“I did already,you lookin for trouble?”
“Hell no” Brad retorted, “just a beer an somethin ta eat, maybe a bed for the night.”
“Ah!” smiled the bar tender, “ a Friar's ale and a pea and ham pizza coming up!”
“Whoa, what else is on the menu?” Brad tried to look friendly, “an make that a millers mid strength please.”
The barman leaned on the bar, his face inches from Brad's. “We got Friars ale an pea an ham pizza buster.”
“Well then,” Brad said, “Think I will have Friar's ale and a pea and ham pizza.”
“Good choice” beamed the barman. “and if you still want a room” he added, “we have no other guests tonight so you can pick any one of those rooms on the top floor there” he added,gesturing to the row of door as the top on the stairs.
“So how much is this gonna cost?” Brad reached for his wallet.
“Nothing” the bartender replied flatly. “It never cost anything to stay here. Not since we opened”
“Nothing!” Brad clamped his forehead between his middle finger and thumb. “How long ya been open?”
“Since the place got built,” the bar tend replied enigmatically.
“You sure this isn't the Hotel California?” Brad asked half jokingly. Something is sure as hell wrong here he thought.
“The WOT??”
“Don't worry about it” Brad smiled."Goodnight."
"You have not eaten yet" the barman chortled."Ya gotta eat ya know."
"Too tired" Brad said. The long and difficult day was rapidly catching up with him. "I will have it for breakfast ,then I will be checking out.” I hope Brad, Brad thought,noting the bedroom door had no lock.Despite it all he soon fell asleep.
The light was very bright and someone kept jabbing him in the side with a stick or something.
“Please don't go” wailed the voice of Sara and Brads eyes shot open. He was laying in the dirt on the track, the shortcut. The tavern had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Sara was sitting on a nearby rock,she was looking at him strangely. She had a long pitchfork. As he watched she metamorphosized into a hideous demon,the ground opened and swallowed them both and as he fell Brad smelt the strong odour of sulphur. This was the final phase of the shortcut. He was being claimed. He just hoped the devil kept his part of the deal.
“Look at this Sara” her younger brother yelled excitedly.
“What is id Daniel?”
“It's a letter from uncle Bills attorney, he's dead, uncle Bill not the attorney, he got mangled up in a harvester and he left three million dollars to us. It's a miracle, we won't lose the farm now!
Sara was stunned. This had to be a coincidence, it had to be. But what id it wasn't? What id Brad really did sell his soul to save Sara's family farm?
Sara was three things, young, impulsive and hopelessly in love. She would so anything, just anything the devil wanted, if she could just have her Braddy back.
The devil pricked up his ears and smiled.
C Gainsford (C) copyright 2012
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