CHAPTER 1
INVASION
The high-pitched scream tore through Roddy’s dream instantly turning it into nightmare. The pleasure of riding his horse across a prairie under a cloudless sky was instantly transformed into a scene of terror as a horde of demon-like creatures emerged from a shallow gully nearby and began to pursue him. He desperately urged his horse to go faster but his limbs would not respond and he panicked as he struggled to move them and stir his mount into a gallop.
Cold terror gripped his body as he fought to escape. He could see the bloodlust in the demons eyes as they came after him, screaming through the rows of sharp teeth that filled their mouths. He was gripped by fear and he found himself fighting for breath as his chest tightened as if held by a steel band. While his every instinct was to flee, his limbs would not respond. With escape seemingly impossible, panic rose in his throat and he struggled to breathe but his chest continued to tighten with every attempt to draw breath. It was as if he was drowning and had lost the power to command his limbs.
Terror gave way to confusion as he thrashed around in his bed and began to emerge from sleep and the horrors of his dream. Suddenly, he was awake and breathless as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings through the wraiths of his evaporating nightmare tangled with reality. Looking around, he tried to understand the source of the high-pitched screaming that continued to assault his ears?
Slowly confusion was replaced by the familiar as he felt the roughness of his bed blanket and felt the cool air wafting from his open window. Finally escaping the chains of foggy unconsciousness, he sat up in his bed and saw that his bedroom window was wide open and slowly his awakening brain tried to make sense of the high-pitched scream that he now realized was coming from somewhere outside. It was a sound he had heard before and his memory churned as it tried to remember where. Suddenly he knew what was causing the screaming and he leapt out of bed and ran to the window. Yes, of course he knew what it was now and his mind recalled a summer day when, standing by a hedgerow, he observed a frightened young rabbit making the same sound. It must have seen a stoat out hunting and had immediately called out in fear. The eerie scream of fright had made the hair on his neck stiffen and had seared itself into his memory.
Thrusting his upper body through the open window and shivering in the chilly air, he scanned the garden and the hedges across the road but could see no movement. Then, as suddenly as it began, the sound ceased. In vain he searched for signs of animal movement within the thick summer growth at the foot of the hedge, but all was still in the early chill of a misty summer dawn.
He scanned the road that ran before his house, looking both ways before focusing on the distant fields. Of course, he suddenly realized, today was a Saturday and that meant that he would be able to meet his friends at their den in the nearby fields. Above the morning mist the sky was of the palest blue and with no breeze his instinct told him that today would be a good one to be outside playing and exploring with his friends.
Then he groaned as he realized that this being a Saturday, he would be called upon to do chores around the house or run errands. That would make getting away difficult.
For all of his friends, finding the time to build dens, play games and embark upon adventures required planning and guile. Parents always had lists of chores for their children to do, and the lists always seemed to grow, never shrink, and would soak up more and more free time.
So, a primary objective was to get out of the house as early in the day as possible and to then stay out for as long as possible. While there was always the attraction of a book with an exciting story, if the weather was dry and the sun was shinning, the lure of the outdoors was just too great, Also, if your mother knew that you were within summoning distance it was inevitable that sooner or later you would be asked to go and do some shopping or be asked to help with some task around the house or, and this was the worst, weed or dig some part of the garden. So, an early escape was the objective, and this had to be done as quietly and surreptitiously as possible. The best way was to help to do some minor task such as washing dishes or putting some dishes away and by doing so lull your mother into a sense of false security, then wait for her to move on to one of the bigger jobs that only she could do, such as cleaning the bathroom, before silently disappearing like an evaporating cloud. One moment you were there and then, when your mother turned to ask you to take the list and go to the greengrocer’s, you were no longer in sight.
For Roddy and his friends, this evasion was not a matter of being work-shy but had more to do with a balanced approach to work and life, ensuring that there was always time carry out one’s obligations to the gang. It was also a matter of self-respect as a modest amount of time spent on family chores was acceptable among friends but too much time was a sign of a serious lack of character and independence and the fellow members of the gang would think that you were a bit “namby pamby”.
More to the point for Roddy especially, going to the greengrocers would always result in the purchase of some mistake, such as overly bruised fruit, or potatoes with too much mud on them, and he would then have to go back with the offending item and ask the grocer, to exchange the fruit or the muddy taties in front of gosh knows who. These were very embarrassing encounters and were dreaded, not only because “Mr. Sprout”, as the Village children called him because of his unruly hair, would look down on you with all the despairing contempt that he could never use on your Mother, but also because a friend, or worse a girl whom you liked and admired, would be there to witness the potential humiliation.
He could hear the rest of the family stirring and so he dressed and hearing the bathroom door open, he rushed in before one of his sisters took it over for what always seemed like an age. Quickly he washed face and hands and then took himself downstairs and into the kitchen where his mother was cooking breakfast. During the week, with everyone in a rush to be off to work or school, breakfast was a catch as catch can affair with each family member bustling over cereal or toast or perhaps a boiled egg. But Saturday was more relaxed and there was time to eat at a more leisurely pace.
Roddy decided that he would need to play his part carefully if he was to get away from home and into the fields with his friends as early as possible, so he offered to lay the table and carry the breakfast items from the kitchen to the table. While his mother seemed grateful for his volunteering, her glance of gratitude did linger rather longer than usual and Roddy thought he detected a slight quizzical rising of her eyebrows. Instantly he recognized a warning. He must be very cautious not to overplay his hand and show himself to be too willing as his mother might begin to suspect that he was planning something.
Breakfast went by quickly with the usual conversations about what the rest of the family would be doing that day. Roddy just listened and concentrated on eating his breakfast but he also tried to appear relaxed and resisted the temptation to bolt his food. Afterward he busied himself helping with washing up and putting away dishes, then after helping clean and tidy the kitchen counters, he waited for his Mother to sit down with a cup of tea and read the paper, which she often liked to do immediately after breakfast.
“Mum, I’m just going out to look at the garden and put the tools away”
His Mother was reading the parts of the paper that she had missed earlier and was thinking of other things. She nodded and turned back to the open page in front of her. Roddy sauntered out of the back door and across to the shed and made himself busy shuffling some garden tools, before turning, walking slowly toward the street and, once past the living room window quickening his pace. Through the gate he walked, faster and faster until he decided that it was safe enough to run. He believed that such a gradual increase in speed was in some way more inconspicuous than just a mad dash that might draw someone’s attention.
Soon he was in the fields and running toward the den looking for signs of his friends. The fields were empty and so he guessed that they must all be inside the den doing something. While the den was a place for its members to gather and retreat from the demands of the adult world, it was not a place in which they spent large amounts of time, preferring to be out roaming the fields or playing games. As he neared the den he was reassured by the sound of animated voices, and ducking low, he crawled along the narrow tunnel that was the entrance, to find that everyone had managed to get away from homes and chores and were sitting in a circle talking loudly at one another.
Peter was leading the conversation and next to him sat
Clive, who looked as if he were poised to ask a question and opposite, sat Derec, Peter’s younger brother.
“We were thinking of going down and looking at the pond,” said Peter. “I think it would be really exciting to build a raft and sail out to the little island. Perhaps we could build a den there too.”
The others nodded in agreement though they had no idea how they might build a raft, as they had never seen it done before.
Derec raised the obvious question.
“Don’t we need something like empty oil drums to keep the raft afloat?”
“Well they don’t have to be oil drums,” said Peter. “We can use any large cans. Anyway, we aren’t going to do it today, I just think it would be good to go there and scout the place out for a bit.”
The other boys mumbled agreement and as nobody else had a good suggestion, one by one, they crawled out into the field and waited for Peter to lead them on their exploring. The Gang often wandered far and wide; the compass of their perambulations depending on the weather and the time available and as today was dry and sunny, it was perfect for a ramble. They set off in single file keeping close to the hedgerows so as not to be conspicuous. They had to cross several fields to get to the pond. Finally they entered the last field, close to the railway and the pond and it was here that they got their big shock.
Peter was the first to notice the path of trampled grass leading directly across the field from the reed beds that surrounded the pond and ending in a wide arc of flattened grass in front of the hedgerow.
“Whoa! What’s going on here then? Look at all of this trampled grass.”
He signaled to the boys behind him to stand still and then began to survey carefully the area of flattened grass before finding what he was looking for.
“Look at the hedge. There’s a hole in it right next to the tree. It looks just like an entrance tunnel to a den.”
“Who around here would do that?” said Roddy
Everyone began to look around the field and the nearby hedgerows, but the field was empty and there was no sign of anyone. All was quiet with the only sound coming from the trains on the railway.
“Well, I’m going to take a look,” said Peter. Kneeling, he looked into the gap and then began to crawl into the hedge through the tunnel-like entrance. The others followed and they emerged into a spacious den that had been hollowed out of the centre of the hedgerow. It was a large and well-made den. Whoever had done this had taken their time to do it well and the four boys were stunned that something like this could be built under their noses without them knowing a thing about it.
Derec was the first to react.
“Who did this and how did they manage to do it without us noticing a thing?”
Peter looked back at his friends and shrugged.
“I don’t know, but whoever it was they have done a good job. This is much better than our den. Let’s look around to see if there are any clues that can tell us who built this.”
Although they searched the den thoroughly they found nothing except the well-made den and its substantial and, for them, sophisticated furnishings. Whoever had done this clearly was more skillful than they, and had either better scavenging skills or came from wealthier homes that discarded much better quality rubbish.
The den contained an old chair and some comfortable, if dirty cushions to sit on. Shockingly there were also what looked like weapons, sharp sticks and what seemed to be clubs with long handles and one of them had some rusty nails embedded in its bulbous end. Further search revealed nothing to help answer the key questions of who these people were and where they came from.
The next question was what to do about this. Derec took an aggressive tack and recommended immediate aggression; destruction of the den and the weapons.
“We don’t know who these people are but they are a threat. These are our fields and everyone knows that only we play here.”
Even though the fields did belong to the farmer, few others came here to play or to walk, so it did feel as if the fields were their territory. Derec’s assertion that the fields “belonged” to the Gang was silly and the others knew it, but then he always did react more emotionally than the rest of boys, Amongst the children of the Village however, there were informal but well understood rules about who played where. So if the children who had built this den were from the Village, they would have knowingly crossed a boundary.
Clive, the cautious and thoughtful one of the gang, counseled restraint.
“Let’s find out who they are and what they are up to before doing anything. Remember what Hoppalong always does in this sort of situation, he goes out scouting first to find out what the outlaws are doing”.
This was good advice as Hoppalong Cassidy was the hero of Saturday morning cinema and he was a slow talking, wise man that always outsmarted the outlaws and made them look silly in the end. Clearly following Hoppalong was a good thing and to argue against it was to call into question one of the fundamental beliefs of the gang; that Cassidy was much smarter and cleverer than any of them and even most adults. After all he survived week after week without being caught, injured or even humiliated and was never seen to lose his head even in the most threatening situations.
The shock of finding that strangers were wandering around these fields was palpable as the four boys thought they knew everything about that small patch of fields and hedges and they believed that it was theirs alone and invisible to all others, especially adults. To find evidence of other beings in this small safe world must have been like a tribe of Stone Age people coming across signs that others had invaded their traditional hunting grounds. Feelings of shock and fear on seeing signs of unknown beings whose size and capabilities were mysterious were all the more disturbing because who they were and where they were from was a complete mystery.
The discovery of what seemed to be weapons was a particular shock. This was new, an escalation in the age of gangs. The Village Gang still lived happily in the age of innocence when taunting words and the occasional fight were all they knew. Yes, they made primitive bows but the technology was poor and they were never powerful enough to be accurate or even the slightest bit dangerous. It was lucky if the arrows flew more than a few body lengths, as they had not discovered the technology of selecting sufficiently elastic wood and the proper material to produce taught bowstrings. Swords were but primitive sticks with perhaps a poorly nailed cross stick to do duty as a hand guard and they had little use for spears or clubs except for the occasional sharpened stick to be used to idly poke at things. The Village Gang was generally a peaceable and unsophisticated group. All the more shocking then to see what seemed to be seriously dangerous weapons? What could this mean? Who were these people and where did they come from?
So, after a lot of argument about what to do next it was decided that they needed to scout around for clues and learn as much as possible about these strangers. It was Peter who suggested that they keep a lookout in the fields to see if they could catch these people coming to visit the den. They needed to work in shifts to cover the day and so they decided out who would do this and when. Peter said they needed to start at the end of the following week on a Saturday and Roddy was given the job of being lookout.
LAMBY MEMORIES 