July
2018. A fresher and cloudier day than those gone before but there are
signs that it will soon burn off. And the temperature is rising.
I'm
in a park with three companions: two, two legged and one, four,
though this morning he's a little unsteady. One of his back legs
keeps slipping, but otherwise he seems happy enough with his tennis
ball clamped in his jaws. Dropping it, then chasing after it on his
extension lead; dropping it and then forgetting it as he's found
another smell that's more enticing, so that his master has to
retrieve the ball and place it in his trouser pocket for safe
keeping, or at least until George wants it again. He tells you by
woofing and looking imploringly at you, though he does the same when
he wants biscuits.
I've
never been to this park before. It's more than a park, really, with
pathways under trees and a large green space, with benches, and a
fenced-in picnic-play area for families. There's a small café, too,
with indoor and outdoor seating. And across the road, from the
entrance, there's a lavender field, which very recently has broken
into bloom.
We
take a paved path, under trees, George leading his master, with
myself and another, in conversation, behind, when from the left hand
side, two schoolboys burst, cutting across us and the track. Chasing
each other, weaving in and out of bushes and trees, in glorious
flight with smiles plastered on their faces. Both have on white
shirts and grey shorts; only one has a striped school tie fastened
round his head. “It's Piggy and Ralph” my companion said.
We
all laughed because it was true. In an instant, of it being said,
that's who they became. There, right before my eyes was Ralph chasing
Piggy; and then, a moment later, Piggy lumbering behind, trying to
catch energetic Ralph up.
We
saw them them a few times, always the same, one following after the
other. Except when they tried to get into their navy blue school
mini-bus, but, on finding it locked and unattended, raced off again
into the greenery.
After
that, they disappeared. Just as abruptly as when they had first come
into view. There was no sign of them on the open common; just little
dogs frolicking and telling each other off with high pitched barks.
No
other schoolboys showed up. No unruly tribe in a state of undress, or
one with a painted mask to set himself apart from the one with the
tie. No gaggle of them either with a teacher or an authoritative
figure. Strange, that. I thought so at the time, but didn't remark on
it.
It
wasn't, to my knowledge, World Book Day. So it was just two boys
being boys, which, weird as it might be to say it, was good to see.
But
to have two book characters suddenly materialise was, well,
interesting, as well as thought-provoking, particularly since it
wasn't all that long ago I read Lord of Flies.
Was
this going to happen from now on?
Had
I been on the Downs when horses were being exercised, I wouldn't have
been at all surprised if knights of King Arthur had arrived, as that
had occurred lately. The scene transmogrified before my eyes, but
that, I realised, was my imagination - it didn't then develop into a
live re-enactment. No, this occurrence was certainly not that. I
wasn't immersed in anything but the walk, and the scene, itself,
didn't transform, magically, just for me i.e. I wasn't the only one
to see them.
No,
this was an overlap of realities as the park with its stone paths and
parched grass remained exactly as it was. Piggy and Ralph chose to
make themselves manifest for some reason, perhaps desiring a change
from their island territory to this rather more inhabitable, and
gentrified, park. Perhaps their bus had broken down...in an updated
version of the tale, and the others were scattered somewhere...
although the bus looked to me in fine condition: no obvious dents to
its body or scratches to its paintwork.
I
would think of that possibility though, wouldn't I? Anyhow, my modern
reworking was further flawed when I saw the bus leave...with nobody
on board...
Picture credit: Piggy and Ralph, Lord of the Flies, 1963 film.
All posts published this year were penned during the last.
