Magnus Mills - Three to See the King

‘It’s a good prime position here,’ he told Patrick. ‘One of the nearest there is to the canyon. We would recommend you built your house facing west, of course, then you’ll catch a glimpse of the sunset.’

‘Perfect,’ remarked Patrick, measuring out the ground in long, even paces. ‘Just perfect.’

‘Don’t mind me asking,’ I said. ‘But won’t it be a bit cramped with all the buildings jammed so close together? Looks to me like there’ll hardly be enough room between them.’

‘These sites were laid out by Michael himself,’ said Steve. ‘There is actually sufficient space here for an entire house.’

‘We have a similar plot set aside for you,’ added Philip. ‘Or, of course, you could have the first option on this one, if you preferred.’

At these words an expression of deep disappointment crossed Patrick’s face.

‘No, no,’ I said. ‘Let Patrick have it. I insist.’

‘Well, if you’re sure

‘Yes, that’s alright.’

‘Thank you,’ said Patrick.

When I again glanced at Steve, I noticed he was regarding me with a rather stern visage.

‘Michael does know what he’s talking about,’ he announced.

‘So I gather,’ I replied. ‘I’ve heard all about my house being built on sand.’

‘Precisely,’ said Steve. This settlement has been constructed under his specific guidance, and we don’t question any of the decisions.’

‘That sounds fair enough to me,’ I said. ‘Who am I to argue?’

Steve glared at me for a few moments more before giving me a curt nod.

‘Very well,’ he managed, in a firm but polite tone. ‘Shall we go on?’

I said a hasty goodbye to Philip and Patrick, and then set off after Steve, who had already marched away. I caught up with him just as he passed between the last of the houses. Shortly after that we emerged once more onto the open plain, where I was relieved to find Alison waiting for us. Steve hadn’t spoken for the last minute, so it was pleasant to have her company as well.

‘What did you think of the site?’ she asked.

‘Very good,’ I replied. ‘Almost a home from home.’

‘Should be just right for Patrick then.’

There was a clearly marked trail ahead, on which I could see remote figures moving. The volunteers for the canyon had now become strung out in a long line, many walking in single file, others travelling in pairs, and they never wavered from their steady course. I cast an eye along this determined procession, and then turned my gaze to the wide sweep of plain. Away to our right, about a mile distant, I noticed a house standing quite alone. I knew by its dull gleam that it was built from tin, and it also appeared to be positioned on a piece of land higher than its immediate surroundings. This made it look somehow elevated, as though set aside for some exalted person. I didn’t bother to ask who lived there.

‘How’s Mary Petrie?’ asked Steve, breaking his silence in an obvious attempt to resume normal relations.

‘Fine,’ I replied. ‘It was on her insistence that I came, to tell the truth.’

‘So she’ll be joining us eventually, will she?’

‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ I said. ‘She’s very fixed in her ways, you know.’

‘And you’re not, I suppose?’

‘Of course I’m not. No one’s more open to change than me.’

‘Oh come, come,’ he said. ‘Surely you don’t expect me to believe that. You’re the only one who refused to move when the rest of us did.’

‘That’s because I was content where I was.’

‘So what are you doing here then?’

‘Answering your invitation, if you must know, but if I’d thought you were going to go on like this I wouldn’t have bothered.’

‘Will you two stop squabbling!’ cried Alison suddenly. ‘I thought you were supposed to be old friends!’

‘We are,’ said Steve. ‘But—’

‘Well, then!’ she snapped. ‘You’ve been continually pecking at each other since we set off, and it’s got to stop! Whatever will Michael think?’

Personally, I didn’t care what Michael thought, but all the same I was glad that Alison had intervened. The last thing I wanted was to fall out with Steve again, so I decided to change the subject.

‘I’m really looking forward to seeing this canyon now,’ I said. ‘Do you reckon I should offer my assistance?’

‘I think it would be most welcome,’ said Steve. ‘Especially as you’re so handy with a shovel.’

It was a simple exchange of words, but more than enough to get us talking again, and soon I was having the canyon explained to me in detail. I learnt that Michael Hawkins had begun the undertaking completely alone about a year ago. This was round about the time Simon Painter started making his visits. Other people journeyed in from different parts of the plain, and one by one they offered their help. Shortly afterwards Steve and Philip arrived, followed by yet more travellers. The numbers grew until eventually they had enough volunteers for operations to be organized on a larger scale. These were carried out under the auspices of Michael Hawkins, who seemed to have a genius for such matters. Apparently, it was merely a question of him suggesting that such and such a thing could be done, and within hours it would be achieved. By now the stage had been reached where a few hundred helpers were fulfilling the work of thousands.

As I listened to all this I began to wonder if some sort of trickery wasn’t at hand, by which these people were being deluded. Indeed, I’d long suspected that Michael Hawkins had most likely discovered some natural fault, or fissure, out here on the plain, and then adapted it for his own use. The colourful account that Steve was giving me did nothing but confirm my scepticism. Ah yes, the canyon certainly existed. He’d not only seen it himself, but had actually taken part in its development. This, of course, was an indisputable fact, and the sight would no doubt be impressive. I was on my way to view a great work that offered purpose to numerous men and women. Nevertheless, I had a feeling it was being accomplished by hook and crook.

Steve was gradually quickening his pace.

At first I hardly noticed the difference and continued to match him stride for stride. Then I became aware that Alison was having to break into an occasional trot just to keep up with the pair of us. It struck me that he probably didn’t even know he was doing it, and I was pleased to discover that in spite of some odd new traits, his inherent lack of patience remained intact. The slick smile with which he’d first greeted me had long since disappeared, suggesting that the original Steve Treacle wasn’t far beneath the surface.

Eventually, though, the rate at which he was propelling us across the plain got too much for Alison.

‘Can’t we slow down a bit?’ she demanded.

‘Not really, no,’ replied Steve.

‘What’s the big hurry?’

‘I don’t want to miss out on anything.’

‘But the canyon’s going to be there for ever!’ she said. ‘I’m sure it’ll wait for you.’

Steve did his best to ease up a little, and we pressed on at a slightly slower speed than before. Ahead of us I could see that the first dozen or so volunteers had come to a halt, allowing those behind to catch up. For some reason, however, the leading bunch didn’t appear to grow in size as the others joined it, but continued to number only about a dozen. All the rest were simply vanishing from sight. For a while I couldn’t work out what was happening at all, and only when we drew closer did I realize that, having reached the edge of the canyon, they were now making their descent into it. Each individual would arrive at a certain point, pause for a moment, then drop out of view. The remaining group slowly dwindled, one by one, until all had followed.