Read Online Sprout Mask Replica by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Rankin
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and everything. Everything.
When
Norman went to visit his wife in hospital that evening he told her all about
everything. Everything that Felix had told to him.
‘Well,
I knew that was bound to happen,’ said Norman’s wife. ‘But, of course, no-one
ever listens to me.
Norman
raised a quizzical eyebrow to this and then shook his head. ‘Nah,’ he told
himself, ‘not a chance.’
As for the Ministry of
Serendipity. Well, who can say? You certainly can’t get a train to Mornington
Crescent and that must prove something. Felix is still up and about and
occasionally, very occasionally, phrases such as ‘I suppose you know who
they nicked that idea from’ can be heard coming from his direction. But these
are accompanied by much nervous over-the-shoulder looking and rarely go any
further.
It’s a
bit of a shame really, as he’s a harmless enough fellow. Of course, I knew
it was all going to happen. But then no-one ever listens to me.
But
they will.
Oh yes they will.
Because finally, in case
you were wondering where all this has been leading, it’s now that my story truly
begins.
ROPED
INTO SOCCER
Roped into soccer on Thursdays.
Pair of old boots on my shoulder.
Pads made of bone
To protect precious shin,
Big brother’s shorts
Secured by a pin.
I shan’t do this stuff when I’m older.
Roped into soccer? Not me, sir!
Roped into games, Friday morning.
Plimsolls that smell in the summer.
Horses to vault
When you haven’t a note.
Mats made of rush
And you can’t wear your coat.
Burns upon hands that might play the piano.
Roped into games? No, not me, sir!
Roped into dull social studies
By teachers with beards and bad jackets.
Learning of Lenin
And Stalin and Marx,
Tolpuddle Martyrs,
Sedition and sparks,
Crass revolutions in God-awful places.
Roped into that lot? Not me, sir!
Roped into prizes on Prize Day.
Projects that no-one approved of.
Always some boff
From the fourth form or third
Who writes some great thesis
On ‘Flight of the bird’
And wins every prize and becomes the school captain.
Roped into prizes. NO THANK YOU!
I was always a loner really.
4
NOW THERE ARE REVELATIONS.
And
there are REVELATIONS.
The
preceding chapters were laid before you not without good reason. The matter of
my great 3 granddaddy’s sporran, my Uncle Brian’s discoveries
regarding the hidden properties of metal, Felix Lemon’s encounter with the
Ministry of Serendipity, all these play a part in revelations yet to come.
But of
the REVELATIONS, these begin right here.
My
discovery that I was the Chosen One came quite without warning. Although I had
always considered myself a bit of a loner, I had no idea just how much of a
loner I really was. The sudden revelation came as quite a shock and unleashed a
chain of events that I could never have foreseen.
But I
am getting ahead of myself here. Let me begin at the beginning, or as near to
the beginning as is necessary. To begin…
Let me
tell you about my brother.
Being four years my
senior, he held for me the status of a demi-god.
While
Mother shooed away my questions with talk of pressing housework, and Father
replied to my askings with parables, brother Andy was always there to provide
an answer when one was required. How well I recall the occasion of my eighth
birthday, when he taught me all about the workings of our record player. It
being my birthday, I was allowed, as a very special treat, to sit alone beneath
the kitchen table and lick the varnish on the legs. Ah, such childhood bliss.
My brother was playing the gramophone record he had bought me as a present. It
was by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band and although it made little sense
to me at the time, I was pleased that at least my brother seemed to be enjoying
it.
I
remember sitting there in the damp and darkness, a fine veneer of rosy varnish
crusting my tongue, watching the god-like being as he sat
When
Norman went to visit his wife in hospital that evening he told her all about
everything. Everything that Felix had told to him.
‘Well,
I knew that was bound to happen,’ said Norman’s wife. ‘But, of course, no-one
ever listens to me.
Norman
raised a quizzical eyebrow to this and then shook his head. ‘Nah,’ he told
himself, ‘not a chance.’
As for the Ministry of
Serendipity. Well, who can say? You certainly can’t get a train to Mornington
Crescent and that must prove something. Felix is still up and about and
occasionally, very occasionally, phrases such as ‘I suppose you know who
they nicked that idea from’ can be heard coming from his direction. But these
are accompanied by much nervous over-the-shoulder looking and rarely go any
further.
It’s a
bit of a shame really, as he’s a harmless enough fellow. Of course, I knew
it was all going to happen. But then no-one ever listens to me.
But
they will.
Oh yes they will.
Because finally, in case
you were wondering where all this has been leading, it’s now that my story truly
begins.
ROPED
INTO SOCCER
Roped into soccer on Thursdays.
Pair of old boots on my shoulder.
Pads made of bone
To protect precious shin,
Big brother’s shorts
Secured by a pin.
I shan’t do this stuff when I’m older.
Roped into soccer? Not me, sir!
Roped into games, Friday morning.
Plimsolls that smell in the summer.
Horses to vault
When you haven’t a note.
Mats made of rush
And you can’t wear your coat.
Burns upon hands that might play the piano.
Roped into games? No, not me, sir!
Roped into dull social studies
By teachers with beards and bad jackets.
Learning of Lenin
And Stalin and Marx,
Tolpuddle Martyrs,
Sedition and sparks,
Crass revolutions in God-awful places.
Roped into that lot? Not me, sir!
Roped into prizes on Prize Day.
Projects that no-one approved of.
Always some boff
From the fourth form or third
Who writes some great thesis
On ‘Flight of the bird’
And wins every prize and becomes the school captain.
Roped into prizes. NO THANK YOU!
I was always a loner really.
4
NOW THERE ARE REVELATIONS.
And
there are REVELATIONS.
The
preceding chapters were laid before you not without good reason. The matter of
my great 3 granddaddy’s sporran, my Uncle Brian’s discoveries
regarding the hidden properties of metal, Felix Lemon’s encounter with the
Ministry of Serendipity, all these play a part in revelations yet to come.
But of
the REVELATIONS, these begin right here.
My
discovery that I was the Chosen One came quite without warning. Although I had
always considered myself a bit of a loner, I had no idea just how much of a
loner I really was. The sudden revelation came as quite a shock and unleashed a
chain of events that I could never have foreseen.
But I
am getting ahead of myself here. Let me begin at the beginning, or as near to
the beginning as is necessary. To begin…
Let me
tell you about my brother.
Being four years my
senior, he held for me the status of a demi-god.
While
Mother shooed away my questions with talk of pressing housework, and Father
replied to my askings with parables, brother Andy was always there to provide
an answer when one was required. How well I recall the occasion of my eighth
birthday, when he taught me all about the workings of our record player. It
being my birthday, I was allowed, as a very special treat, to sit alone beneath
the kitchen table and lick the varnish on the legs. Ah, such childhood bliss.
My brother was playing the gramophone record he had bought me as a present. It
was by Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band and although it made little sense
to me at the time, I was pleased that at least my brother seemed to be enjoying
it.
I
remember sitting there in the damp and darkness, a fine veneer of rosy varnish
crusting my tongue, watching the god-like being as he sat
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