A Beauty - and a Beast

Frozen immobile, listening intently, my brain searched in vain for some alternate escape route. Of course there was none. It scoured and scrimmaged through memory tracts in fruitless haste. The sound grew noticeably nearer. I turned and sprang galvanized into headlong flight, running blindly forwards in desperate hope of escape.

In the abyss of that night I bounced into and off the verge repeatedly. Blind to everything, and deaf to all but the sounds of a pursuing doom…. more than once I tripped and fell headlong. Each time I was up and running again in one fluid motion, impervious to pain or injury, blundering ever forwards.

In the stygian blackness the clammy fog turned sweat into ice water. How far I ran in that first mad charge I do not know. I ran until my lungs were on fire, and my head was pounding fit to burst, and my legs twin masses of tortured jelly. In the end I just had to stop.

Staggered to an enforced halt, I bent, drawing huge drafts of air into a tortured, heaving chest. I strained to listen between each indrawn gulp, gauging the distance now separating me from instant extinction.

Despite my not insignificant efforts the sound of Evil had not only held it’s own, it was noticeably gaining. All the pictures I had ever seen portraying the Devil I knew to be chasing me, loomed large in my mind’s eye. The huge horns tipped with flame, the cloven hoofs, and eyes of burning coals. The deformed callused claws, grasping, and clutching a bundle of chains. Exhausted or not I plunged forwards continuing my desperate flight.

It was all in vain…. The noise grew nearer behind me.

Head pounding and surely about to burst, heart thumping fit to break loose, lungs a pair of excruciating agonies, still I found hidden reserves of strength to propel me homewards in a wringing wet sweat of ice cold trepidation. On and on - each stride a lifetime of torture.

Then, through the mist of this hell, a vision slowly cleared - a small spot in the inner turmoil of my being. The vision grew from the center outwards, to eventually encompass my whole mind’s eye. What was this vision of? – I still don’t know - it was a sort of restful serenity, an impressionist's pastel-pleasing picture - of purity and peace.

Retreating no more, my tired limbs staggered to an unsteady halt. Still holding this inner perception of peace, the agonies of tormented limbs and organs dissolved, leaving a glowing numbness behind. No panic now, and fear had lost its stranglehold. With but little effort I straightened and calmly turned to face my fate….

It was only yards away now. Time seemed to slow in anticipation. Relentlessly - in an eon of time - the remaining feet separating us was whittled down to zero.

There was no feeling of bravado as I squared up to confront the Devil that night. Void of any emotion other than a restful calmness, I waited in total detachment. Then time - tired of its erroneous ways - and speeded up to make amends. In an instant Devil and chains made contact…

Life could never be the same for me following that notorious night. It was without question – at least in part – one of the happiest I had known. Equally, it would never find a par in terms of the terror its latter minutes held.

It was a watershed for my more unpleasant emotions. Never again would I experience fear. It was also the night I lost religion - with its accompanying superstitions and bigotry. Anything that could reduce a night of beauty, tenderness, and love, into one of guilt, and fear, and sordidness, could have no place for me.

From that night I saw fear as an individually induced emotion, spawned of guilt, and an unreasoning conscience. I came face to face with myself that night, and my childhood was forever left behind. I had experienced the joys and comforts of two persons sharing love.

I was never to see my Gail again. Searching and enquiring high and low gleaned nothing. Nobody knew her, or claimed to have seen her before, or after that night. To this day she remains a mystery: Was she some holiday visitor taking pity on a would-be soldier? Or indeed a mythical Cinderella, that disappeared on the stroke of midnight into the mist like a Brigadoon? One thing is certain: she was my first love, and not only did she fulfill me sexually, she emptied me of fear, and the trappings of religion.

As for Jim’s Gail – she waited in vain at the next waterfall up. All ended well for them… oh yes, the Devil – turned out to be a sheepdog pup. It had pulled free from the wall and strayed off, complete with chain. I presume it followed me for company, poor thing….