Chain Story - Wait and See
We have previously run a successful Chain Story project through 'Lockdown 2020; so this is your chance to take part in the 2023 story.
Our chair David Lewis read the start of our latest chain story and selected the next ‘volunteer’ to write 200 – 500 words for the next chapter.
The title: ‘Wait and See’.
Part One - ‘Wait and See’
A 2023 chain story by many writers
‘Why am I walking like a heron with a hangover? You may well ask such a pithy question young man,’ said the second of the two adventurers present, ‘So would you be if you have any care for your health right now, you just wait and see.’
‘Wait and see what?’ replied Milo’s impatient compatriot.
‘”Wait and see” means “wait and see”…all will become apparent in the course of time; all things have their moment do they not? This is not their moment.’
‘I refuse to follow you along this alleyway for one more step, scrabbling along as if I had a walk on part in the Mikado singing “Three Little Maids” in falsetto,’ … or suffering from a carrot stuffed up somewhere unmentionable came to mind before a distant memory gave a reminder that Milo disliked any comments not utterable by a Doctor of Divinity or the dearly regretted late Queen. (God Bless Her.)
Before either of our intrepid bio-mechanicals could offer one more foot to their gait, the air all around them suddenly turned day into night, light into dark, delicate enquiry into anguished mystery, for neither of our now limping heroes was, in point of fact, particularly heroic. It was as if someone had suddenly pulled the shutters down on the sun, or a squid had inked all over the page of their notebook as they tried vainly to record the day for posterity. A darkness it was that some word-weary novelists might have described as ‘grasping as their very souls’, an African suddenness neither of them could comprehend in the slightest. A strange strength-sapping chill had also come over them. And it was only Monday.
Milo turned to the single friend available, now just a nameless shadow shivering somewhere close as if a name meant anything in this new world of darkness and fear. Milo would have said, ‘I want my mum’ if the realisation hadn’t occurred with a sudden pang that firstly childhood had long since passed and secondly that ‘poor mother’ had died years before, sucked into the pig mulcher of the local abattoir where she worked as a part-time offal scraper, a fact that had depressed the town’s pork butchers for many a year afterwards. But that is another story… perhaps…
Right now, Milo hugged the shape in the shadowy alleyway, not caring whether it disliked being touched so intimately or not. This was a crisis, a gold lined lamé of a crisis with mother of pearl specs on. What in the name of Jupiter and Mars, and probably a few other places, was happening to them?
© The Global Writers Forum and UK Writers SIG / David Lewis
Part Two - ‘Wait and See’
Wait and See…
It was inevitable these two old friends would give into the temptation of what good old uncle Hector called ‘electric soup’ at Bar Chez Moi. Staggering toward Hotel de Ville, the wind was blowing, head on, making it almost impossible for Milo and Marvin to make it back in time before the night porter dozed off. After a few brandies he’d been known to sleep through anything. It was pointless trying to get into the hotel room at such a late hour.
Finding shelter under the old harbour bridge, waiting for the storm to pass, they wrapped their coats around themselves, hands in pockets trying to keep warm. The ground cold and hard, both hoping the night would pass quickly. It didn’t. Memories of Milos mum still haunted him, he’d became vegan ever since.
Wakening to the heavy aroma of fish, Fabien, the local fisherman, was setting up his little stall with the mornings catch. Blue skies and the strong scent of the sea was almost too much for the two friends, escaping quickly to the other side of the harbour. Madame Aubert’s was opened for coffee. Hot, dark and strong, it hit the spot.
Strands of sunlight warmed the dimly lit café. Madame Aubert seemed upset, her eyes red and swollen, maybe an allergy from Soja, her cat. She loved him regardless.
Her husband had just returned from the local jail. He had been known to upset the locals on occasion, becoming worse after a few glasses of absinthe. Hoping the day would improve along with his mood.
Walking back toward Hotel de Ville, smoke came billowing down the tiny cobble streets, sirens blaring and a sense of panic. Madame Aubert came running from the café, tears running down her cheeks.
© The Global Writers Forum and UK Writers SIG / Ann Cumberland
Part Three - ‘Wait and See’
Milo and Marvin, with that lovely dusk day chill starting to wear off, walked quickly to the tearful lady. All three could smell the gentle smoke from the bottom of the cobbles mixed with the acrid siren of the local part time brigade. Arriving with a professional screech, doors flung open, the fire service burst into action grabbing hoses and lunging at the red and yellow enemy.
How could this happen to the wonderful Café bibliotheque. The centre of real culture and the only proper vendor for the independent book. Madame Aubert’s drew in the weekend sea-set quite nicely and coped well with the weekday fishing folk who enjoyed the specialty coffee and harbour views.
Madame Aubert, still teary, knew exactly what happened because Charlie rushed to the fire station several minutes before after dashing out of her bed shouting.
“Some idiot set fire to Les Livres.”
which the locals knew the bookshop as. Milo was astonished to see him at the front of the building in full flow bringing the beast to heal. Marvin not so remembering the earlier conversation from Madame.
“Yes, he likes a good wine, too much and gets in a state but the locale are learning to love him because he fights our real enemy.”
Black smoke turned grey then wispy white against the now brilliant blue sky. Marvin watched as hoses were reeled in with spurting water plopping out in between the cobbles. The fire Chief came out, with a bucket full of burnt books. Milo could just make out the names of a few of them with crisped spine titles.
“Hood 500, a tour guide to Gambia, and the fast Celt. “
“Well Chief”
asked Madame Aubert
“Was there much damage inside.”
Madame had a very real interest in this, her other Café, and had spent many hours there while Charlie was inside. In fact, it was this interest in books and writing that sparked the gem of an idea to ensure writers, books, and prisoners all had a future in the area. Not all locals liked or supported the project.
The Chief answered, “Not too much damage caused by the fire or water as we caught it in time and Charlie was fabulous.”
Milo posed the next question.
“So, what caused it and why in the new writer section.”
The Chief walked over to the trio and just said.
“Wait and see, wait and see.” And walked off with a slight half-smile.
Milo looked at Marvin trying not to catch the eye of Madame, and both were thinking the same thing.
© The Global Writers Forum and UK Writers SIG / Sean Hannigan
Part Four - ‘Wait and See’
Milo struck the two matches together and watched as both erupted into a bright yellow flame. He held both in front of Marvin and then blew them both out. Milo smiled and placed the two spent matches on the ground to finish the letter “S” of the word “LIES” in matches on the cobbled floor.
“The fight goes on.” Marvin stated confidently to Milo.
“It does indeed brother.” Milo agreed.
“The truth must always be fought for.” Marvin continued.
“Burn the lies, reveal the truth.” Milo canted.
“Burn the lies, reveal the truth” Marvin repeated.
Both men stood up and pulled their long coats tighter around them to keep out the cold of the morning. A cold wet mist of a morning that was blowing into the harbour with the incoming tide and returning boats from their night fishing.
Milo kicked at the matches destroying the match word on the cobbles.
“Breakfast?” Milo queried, his eyes seeking and then finding his friends in the slitted gap between the high upturned collar of the heavy coat and the flat plaid cap on his head.
“Breakfast.” Marvin agreed and the two men walked together into the gathering mist at the end of the alley leading to the harbour.
The Fire Chief looked at the location pins on the area map on the wall in his office. The recent fires in the area were definitely creating a pattern. He had suspected after the fire at the library that there may be some pattern to the fires at the book stores and libraries in the area. The suspicion had caused him to take a gamble and put Charlie on observation at Mme Aubert’s Café Bibliotheque the previous evening. The Café Bibliotheque was the largest of the bookstores in the area and the prime target for any arsonist or fanatic intent on burning down places of the reading or selling of books. His gamble had paid off. It had also saved the café from burning down and as an added bonus the quick reaction of Charlie and attendance of the Fire Department had saved vital evidence from being destroyed. It was that evidence that the Fire Chief was now trying to comprehend. The accelerant used for the fire had been sprayed onto the New Writers section in the form of a word. That word was “LIES”.
The Fire Chief stroked his chin deep in thought. Why the word “Lies” and who or what was doing the lying?
© The Global Writers Forum and UK Writers SIG / Stephen Winnard