Alan Garner - Thursbitch

Mary came out and went to him and took him by the arm.

“I’m sure as how there was. But you’re home now, Jack.”

“Woe unto us that we have sinned. For this us heart is faint. For this us eyes are dim. All along as how mount of Zion is desolate and foxes walk on it.”

“Thee come thy ways.”

“Tear off this garment as you wear; this cloak of darkness; this web of ignorance, this prop of evil, this bond of corruption, this living death, this walking corpse, this bury-hole as you carry. Beware the flesh into which you have entered, the path from which there is no return and from which all light is parted. For your veins, even your mortal veins, are the net wherein Satan shall trap you.”

“We’ll do that, Jack; never fret. But come thy ways now; there’s a good youth.”

“Do thorns prick today?”

“Fecks,” said Richard Turner. “His tongue’s going on wheels.”

HE SAT AT the top of the lane across from the stump of Jenkin and spun the wooden drum.

Tally Ridge came down from Pym Chair. “Is that you, Jack Turner? By, but you’ve been gone a while. And what a sight! You’re that beshitten. What’s to do wi’ you?”

“Fetch folks,” said Jack, not looking at Tally.

“Fetch folks? Whatever for?”

Jack did not answer. He turned the drum and stared at the stump.

Tally Ridge shook his head and went on his way. “Fetch folks. Ay, we’ll do that. They’ll want to see what sort o’ notimaze you’ve turned out to be sin last back end.”

Jack sat through the morning, not speaking, as the people began to drift towards Jenkin, and into the afternoon. They were quiet among themselves, muttering and whispering at what they saw and what he had become.

“Nay,” said Sneaper Slack. “Get up wind on him. We could take a nest o’ wasps wi’ that one.”

When enough were gathered, Jack stood, but continued the spinning.

“O ye unhappy men of Belial. I’m here to warn you of your torment, and of yon fires to come for you as walk in slippy places.”

They looked at one another.

“Take heed, my brethren, I beseech you, for your labour for that meat as perishes and forget that meat as perishes not.”

The women began to snicker.

“It is with grief I speak these things. Yet if I did not, the very stones would cry out.”

“Ay. Stones, then,” said Clonter Oakes. “And what can you tell us about him as smashed Jenkin?”

“It was the hand of God in his wrath as smote yon bethel of Satan, as his hand is ready to smite you all.”

“Then how was it as one o’ Turners’ sledgehammers was found just where you’re standing now, Jack?” said Tally Ridge.

Jack ignored him.

“God passed by me when I was polluted with innard filth, and let me live; He passed by me, and let me live so as I could fetch you news of His great anger against you, and to bruise the heads of snakes as they will bruise your heels. For you shall all, every one, be surely cast into yon flames, where the worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. For you wicked shall go away into everlasting torment!”

“Give over,” said Clonter. “We piss out bonfires, so what’s the odds?”

“O deluded sinner. Think how it will be for you to dwell with burnings everlasting.”

“Yay, but where shall your chap find enough sticks?”

Some of the children were crying.

“Ah, childer as are unconverted, do not you know as you are going down to Hell, to bear yon dreadful wrath of that God, who is now angry with you every day and every night? And women as are their mothers, will you as have neglected this precious season and have spent all your days in wickedness, will you know as how you are now come to such a dreadful pass in blindness?”

The women had fallen silent. But the men urged Jack on.

“Ay, youth! You tell ’em, and then!”

“Beware of Baccbus, yon Great Satan, you as are dead and barren in prayer. Lament and weep for miseries as shall come upon you; for the sword of God’s word shall smite off the heads of them as he hates, even as this here idol was cut down. Therefore, let everyone now awake and fly from the wrath to come. Yon great wrath of Jehovah hangs over you. Haste and escape for your lives. Look not behind you. Escape to yon mountain, lest you be consumed.”

There were shouts and cheers.

“Good lad, Jack!”

“A bonny tale!”

“Very well told!”

“Choice and all!”

Jack walked away down to Saltersford, the drum still whirling.

“By,” said Sneaper Slack. “Yon effort beats Bull for laughs, and no error.”

EDWARD HAD COME over from Redmoor to help move the cattle up at the end of spring.

“Seems as how our Jack’s back again from another on his jags.”

As they climbed towards Shady, they could see the people gathered at Jenkin and hear their cries.

“Well, summat’s back,” said Richard Turner. “But whether or not it’s our Jack is a question. Way that one’s carrying on, he neither dies nor does.”

“I heard chuntering soon as I left Redmoor,” said Edward. “He’s got to be put right, Father. He’s been home long enough. Have you not tried reason?”

“Me, I’ve a farm to be run rather than listen to any more of his muckfoodle talk,” said Richard Turner. “Reason! With that one? A man might as good go stop an oven wi’ butter.”

“I had hoped as how, once he was on jag again, he’d find his wits,” said Edward, “seeing as we’d kept his beasts for him. But off he must go as if nowt had happened nor with a by your leave. And now his jags take longer and he fetches less; so what must he be doing, I ask ye, but mithering others same as here? And his childer. Has he been to Lomases to see ’em, or asked after ’em? He has not. It’s as if they never were. And will he wash and keep himself? He will not. He’s getten that ronk as a man can smell him afore hear his bells, when wind’s right. I must tell you, Father, I reckon as you’re being soft. Jack always did have the best end of the pig trough.”

“Ay. Well.”

“Show him who’s master.”

“It’s not that easy, youth.”

“Is it not? He’s got us all at a tight rein, has Jack. And them as are down there now on their whirlybones, skriking and blahrting with him. Oh, they began at laughing when he first struck up, right enough; our Jack was quite the show. But by fits and gurds he’s getten ’em eating out of his hand, so as they can’t tell t’other from which. And who are they? Oakses, and Slacks, and Ridges, and Swindells, and Lomases, and Potts, and Lathams, and Adsheads. It seems there’s nobbut Martha Barber won’t have no truck wi’ ’em. Who on us shall be next? There’ll come a time when there’ll be scarce any farming in this valley, for ’em all hill-hooting wi’ Jack.”

“Yay, but you don’t know all as happened.”

They moved the cattle along the Butts.

“I do know as he never did say nowt on how we’d kept his beasts and got feed for ’em all winter, let alone us selves. There were no thanks there. So what did happen, Father?”

“It’s this road up. Soon as land man come, full on his talk of Thursbitch, I knew Bull wouldn’t stand it. I knew as he’d turn nowty. And Bull and Jack are one folk, think on, at this time o’ day. And Jack knew it. And he went and said sorry and as how he’d take it on his self to see right by Bull. But yon was a gate as he didn’t know he was taking; and hasn’t Bull called a bonny tune. First Nan Sarah, and now Jack. Bull has him on Belderstone now, right enough, and has pegged his een and peppered his chin good and proper.”

“You never said, Father.”

“It was between me and Jack.”