“I cannot help but think it strange,” declared Philomena Bucket, “that things are suddenly being found washed up on the beach at Scilly Point. Not just ordinary things, either; so far we have been brought cheese, brandy, wine, pies, flour, confections made from marzipan… and all in excellent condition, too.”
“Well,” said Reggie Upton, “you know how it can be at sea. Things are always getting jettisoned overboard for one reason or another.”
“All the same, it smells a bit fishy to me,” said Philomena. “In fact, thinking about it, I would be more convinced that there was nothing strange going on if things really did smell fishy. As it is, everything that has turned up so far smells as though it only left the shop this morning.”
“You know I can vouch for the provenance of most of what has turned up,” said Reggie, defensively. “After all, I have been the one finding the stuff.”
Philomena gave the old soldier a sideways glance, but said nothing.
Reggie had been on the island for months now, and, until very recently, his wanderings (or flâneuring, as he liked to call it) had yielded very little in the way of useful discoveries. Now, suddenly, it was as if he had been granted the keys to some magical food hall. Still, she thought, she ought not to complain. Lately, the bill of fare at The Squid and Teapot had improved beyond all imagining.
“You’ll have to persuade Durosimi to start dropping the food off in other locations. And we need more people in on the secret, too.
Philomena is becoming most suspicious; it’s getting to be embarrassing.”
The ghost of Granny Bucket listened to Reggie’s worries with growing impatience.
“I’ve got no sway over Durosimi,” she said. “If I start making demands, he’ll stop bringing things back.”
“It’s beyond me why he wants his trips to the Underland to be kept secret, anyway,” said Reggie.
“Because he knows that Philomena will do her utmost to seal the passage, in the way that she closed up the other one,” said Granny.
“She could do that?” Reggie was intrigued.
Granny nodded. Durosimi was well aware that when it came to magical abilities, Philomena was the only person on Hopeless who could beat him hands down every day. Much to Granny’s disapproval, however, unless pushed to extremes, her granddaughter eschewed using, or even acknowledging, her powers.
“I might have a quiet word with Septimus Washwell,” said Reggie, thoughtfully, “and let him in on the secret. It occurred to me that if he says that he found the next consignment on another part of the island, that would, at least, let me off the hook.”
“I’m not comfortable with all this deceit,” complained Granny. “To begin with, I was the only one who knew about Durosimi’s trips to Tudor England. I thought a spot of blackmail might be worthwhile. Then young Winston Oldspot had to go and tell you that he saw Durosimi hiding that box of cheese and wine, and now you’re planning to bring Septimus on board. If too many people know, things will start getting out of hand, Reggie, and if Philomena finds out that I’ve been hob-nobbing with O’Stoat, she’ll never speak to me again.“
“Oh, nonsense,” said Reggie. “She should be pleased. The Squid and Teapot has taken on a new lease of life with all of this wonderful provender, brought to us directly from the time of Good Queen Bess.”
“Oh, I’m beginning to see the error of my ways,” said Granny ominously. “No good will come of this now, you mark my words.” With that she allowed herself to vanish into the ether, leaving not a trace of her ever having been there.
“Dashed annoying habit,” muttered Reggie. “Anyway, despite what the old girl says, I shall certainly be lurking around Scilly Point tomorrow morning. I wonder what we’ll get this time…?”
The following day struggled into reluctant life through a haze of murky fog and light drizzle. True to his word, Reggie slipped out of the inn and made his way to Scilly Point, where Durosimi would have left the latest cache of Elizabethan groceries.
The haul looked particularly appetising on this occasion. Reggie could spot several dark, wax-sealed bottles, an ornate confection, shaped like a swan, and a variety of pies and puddings, all wrapped in muslin.
He pulled the box out from its hiding place and eyed it appreciatively, rubbing his hands together in joyful anticipation. His good mood suddenly evaporated, however, when, as if from nowhere, a pale blue rock, the size of a football, dropped from the sky, missing Reggie by inches. Then, to his great dismay, the mysterious missile managed to totally destroy the box and all of its delectable contents, before bouncing harmlessly into the sea.
It is not often that Reggie has been rendered speechless, but with his legs wobbling and his heart pounding, for once in his life, he had nothing to say.
Granny’s words reverberated in his ears. “No good will come of this, you mark my words.”
Was this some sort of portent? It certainly felt like one. The worst of it was, he would never be able to tell anyone. He could hear the comments already.
“A blue rock hurled from the sky? Have you been on the absinthe again, Reggie? Who threw it, the Green Fairy?”
No, it would probably be best to say nothing about the bolt from the heavens, but just tell Granny that he could now see that she was right. She should tell Durosimi to stop bringing food. After all, the next blue rock might be aimed at any one of them, and Reggie had no wish for it to be him.
Author’s note:
As has been mentioned before, Hopeless, Maine has a complicated relationship with time and space. Maybe it is for the best that its inhabitants have no idea that a frightening world exists just beyond their reach. A world in which vastly complicated flying machines grace the skies, high above their little island. Sophisticated as they are, even these machines are not infallible. Occasionally one will have a leak in its septic tank, allowing a potentially lethal projectile to form, frozen in the high altitude and composed of something as basic as good old night-soil, bathed in liquid disinfectant. This is known as blue ice, and, over the past fifty years or so, has been responsible for dozens of instances of destruction to property throughout the United States and Europe.