Treacle Walker by Alan Garner

Author:Alan Garner
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2021-09-02T21:38:04+00:00

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Bang. Bang. Bang.

Three times the handle on the door.

Joe shot under the blankets and tugged them over his head.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He reached for his pillow and covered his ears.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He was sweating. His eyes were shut. All he saw were swirls of purple on the black of his lids. He had no spit; the thud in his ears made the silence worse. He could not slow his breath.

Stillness.

He moved the pillow and pulled the blankets down to his nose and opened his eyes. The sun shone sideways in the window and the sky was bright. He sat up and listened.

Stillness.

Joe climbed down and moved over the floor, not letting the boards creak, to the edge of the window frame and looked out.

The pony and cart were under the pear, and Treacle Walker was on the path by the door, holding the round handle.

‘You daft beggar!’

Joe ran down the stairs and opened the door.

‘What are you at? Sounding like them lomperwhatsits!’

‘How else might one wield the ferrous weight?’ said Treacle Walker. ‘May one come in?’

‘Come in?’ said Joe. ‘Help your blooming self!’

He ran upstairs, grabbed his Knockout and down again. Treacle Walker was sitting in the chimney, looking into the stack.

‘What ails you, Joseph Coppock?’ he said. ‘What is wrong?’

‘Wrong? Me? There’s nowt wrong with me! It’s this!’ He threw the Knockout into Treacle Walker’s lap and sat down on the other side of the fire. ‘That’s what!’

Treacle Walker turned the pages of the comic. ‘It has humour,’ he said. ‘A nice wit. Charming vernacular. Ah.’ He was reading Stonehenge Kit.

‘Why’s the house there? Why?’ said Joe. ‘It’s a story! Knockout! A story! And it says find out next week! But next week’s missing!’

‘Has it been written yet?’ said Treacle Walker. ‘And who is in the window?’

‘It’s only a comic!’

‘“Only”? The house is here, where we sit,’ said Treacle Walker. ‘And the house is there, where we read, is it not? What is out is in. What is in is out.’

‘That’s what he said!’

‘Who?’

‘Him down yonder, in the bog! He said it, too! Before you came!’

‘Thin Amren awake still? Thin Amren sleeps.’

‘Not now, he doesn’t,’ said Joe. ‘I was talking to him just the other minute. And he said that, same as you: “What’s out is in. What’s in is out.” He did.’

‘Thin Amren knows much,’ said Treacle Walker.

‘Well he doesn’t reckon much on you.’

‘Alackaday.’

‘He knows about that bone thingy of yours. And this.’

Joe went to his museum and took out the jar.

‘Yes,’ said Treacle Walker. ‘Many do.’

‘What is it?’ said Joe. ‘All the Poor Mans Friend and Bridport? What’s that about?’

‘Beach, Barnicott, Roberts, Bridport? They are foils for those that seek yet are not worthy to achieve. As you may be.’

‘I’m only asking what’s it for,’ said Joe.

‘That is the question few have asked,’ said Treacle Walker.

‘Why? And what’s it doing here?’

‘You chose it.’

‘I liked it. That’s all.’

‘It held the glamourie.’

‘The mucky stuff?’ He turned the jar. ‘It’s gone! There’s none left!’

‘You saw. You touched. You have. Is that

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