focus there's nothing there? Things moving on their own? Heard funny sounds in the darkness?’
‘I can hear them now.’ said Sam shooting a look at the entrance to the tunnels.
‘Can you?’ said Weewalk with a small smile, also looking at the doorway ‘Very interesting. And what do you think it is? Making those noises?’
‘Ghosts.’ said Sam softly ‘Spirits of the dead. Echoes of those who have died.’
He felt strangely keen to talk about this now. Having lived his entire life in a house which he was sure was possessed he wanted to know more, however scary it was. His grandfather had always dismissed his questions and he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing it with anyone else. This Weewalk, whoever he was, seemed to know something. Right now Sam just wanted some kind of theory that he was not completely mental. That thought stuck him suddenly. Was he even awake? It had been the most bizarre night. He had heard of grief affecting people in funny ways. Was he still in his bed at home? He surreptitiously pinched his arm not sure whether the ensuing pain was good or not.
Weewalk must have noticed for he said ‘Don’t worry, you're awake. You can pinch me if you like.’ His face softened then ‘This must all seem very strange. Okay, I'll tell you some things, but I can't guarantee that this is going to make your life any more straightforward. Perhaps I should show you something first. Something very very few people have ever seen.’
He produced a long stemmed pipe from a pocket somewhere under the grubby yellow dress.
Sam laughed and Weewalk raised an eyebrow.
‘Just wait.’ The small man lit the pipe and took a couple of deep puffs until there was a small cloud of smoke above his head. ‘Now, watch.’
Weewalk closed his eyes and seemed to go into some kind of trance. In the flickering candlelight Sam was astonished to see the smoke move in a way that was unnatural. Where the grey blue smoke should be dissipating it had become immobile and then as Sam watched, his mouth open, it began to take shape until an insubstantial figure, a ghostly torso, hovered above their heads. Sam pushed himself to his feet and began to back away, terrified, his eyes fixed on the thing before him. Weewalk opened one eye and looked at Sam from under a bushy eyebrow then he gave his head a quick shake and the smoke seemed to revert to normal as it disappeared into the cold dark air.
‘Sam, come back and sit down. You have nothing to fear.’ said Weewalk as he tapped out his pipe and put it away.
Sam stumbled and put one hand on the wall, still open-mouthed and staring at the air where the figure had disappeared. ‘What, what was that?’
‘An illusion of sorts, nothing more. Nothing that can harm you. There are places Sam, where we don’t want men to go. So, we scare them off. Here, come sit down and I'll explain.’
Sam took a deep breath and wobbled back to Weewalk and sat down again, his knees drawn up to his chest. Once his heart rate had returned to something approaching normal he gave a weak nod and the little man began to talk.
‘Your world, this place in which you live, is not the only world. There is another and it lies alongside your own. Our worlds, yours and mine, rub against each other, causing friction. This causes strange things to happen, things which people in your world do not understand and have tried, over the years, to explain without success. Ever walked into a place and it felt odd? A sudden change in temperature? A charge in the air that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise? That's where the worlds are close and are pressed against each other, rubbing, causing the friction. Electricity. Static. It can even cause metallic objects to move or shift.'
Sam looked up 'All the cutlery on the table moved the other day when no-one was there!'
Weewalk nodded. 'Occasionally, but only rarely, the worlds are pressed so tightly together that it is possible to cross between them. These
‘I can hear them now.’ said Sam shooting a look at the entrance to the tunnels.
‘Can you?’ said Weewalk with a small smile, also looking at the doorway ‘Very interesting. And what do you think it is? Making those noises?’
‘Ghosts.’ said Sam softly ‘Spirits of the dead. Echoes of those who have died.’
He felt strangely keen to talk about this now. Having lived his entire life in a house which he was sure was possessed he wanted to know more, however scary it was. His grandfather had always dismissed his questions and he hadn’t felt comfortable discussing it with anyone else. This Weewalk, whoever he was, seemed to know something. Right now Sam just wanted some kind of theory that he was not completely mental. That thought stuck him suddenly. Was he even awake? It had been the most bizarre night. He had heard of grief affecting people in funny ways. Was he still in his bed at home? He surreptitiously pinched his arm not sure whether the ensuing pain was good or not.
Weewalk must have noticed for he said ‘Don’t worry, you're awake. You can pinch me if you like.’ His face softened then ‘This must all seem very strange. Okay, I'll tell you some things, but I can't guarantee that this is going to make your life any more straightforward. Perhaps I should show you something first. Something very very few people have ever seen.’
He produced a long stemmed pipe from a pocket somewhere under the grubby yellow dress.
Sam laughed and Weewalk raised an eyebrow.
‘Just wait.’ The small man lit the pipe and took a couple of deep puffs until there was a small cloud of smoke above his head. ‘Now, watch.’
Weewalk closed his eyes and seemed to go into some kind of trance. In the flickering candlelight Sam was astonished to see the smoke move in a way that was unnatural. Where the grey blue smoke should be dissipating it had become immobile and then as Sam watched, his mouth open, it began to take shape until an insubstantial figure, a ghostly torso, hovered above their heads. Sam pushed himself to his feet and began to back away, terrified, his eyes fixed on the thing before him. Weewalk opened one eye and looked at Sam from under a bushy eyebrow then he gave his head a quick shake and the smoke seemed to revert to normal as it disappeared into the cold dark air.
‘Sam, come back and sit down. You have nothing to fear.’ said Weewalk as he tapped out his pipe and put it away.
Sam stumbled and put one hand on the wall, still open-mouthed and staring at the air where the figure had disappeared. ‘What, what was that?’
‘An illusion of sorts, nothing more. Nothing that can harm you. There are places Sam, where we don’t want men to go. So, we scare them off. Here, come sit down and I'll explain.’
Sam took a deep breath and wobbled back to Weewalk and sat down again, his knees drawn up to his chest. Once his heart rate had returned to something approaching normal he gave a weak nod and the little man began to talk.
‘Your world, this place in which you live, is not the only world. There is another and it lies alongside your own. Our worlds, yours and mine, rub against each other, causing friction. This causes strange things to happen, things which people in your world do not understand and have tried, over the years, to explain without success. Ever walked into a place and it felt odd? A sudden change in temperature? A charge in the air that causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise? That's where the worlds are close and are pressed against each other, rubbing, causing the friction. Electricity. Static. It can even cause metallic objects to move or shift.'
Sam looked up 'All the cutlery on the table moved the other day when no-one was there!'
Weewalk nodded. 'Occasionally, but only rarely, the worlds are pressed so tightly together that it is possible to cross between them. These
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