In Search of the Alter Dom (6 page)

Caddoc looked a pitiful sight. His clothes were torn and damp with sweat and saliva from the three dribbling Tartarus Hobs. Caddoc had two lovely black eyes that made him look like a startled panda – caught in the bath.

Caddoc’s father Morgan the Milk, had returned early from the hospital that evening with a hearty appetite and had polished off both the dinners in the oven; while Mrs. Morgan’s back was turned. His bandaged head slowly surfaced from the Sporting Life and looked at Caddoc; smiled then returned to his paper. Both professionals studied the bruised, battered and tattered Caddoc lying on the settee: with little sympathy.

‘What have you been up to Caddoc Morgan?’ Sgt Thomas asks.

‘I was attacked – mugged see,’ answers Caddoc sobbing, ‘there was three of the buggers!’

‘Three!’ repeats Sgt Thomas with surprise….. ‘can you give me a description?’

Caddoc thought for a moment: he was used to lying and being believed. “If people believed his lies – they will surely believe his truths – after all it really happened! They just had to believe the truth – no matter how strange.” ‘They were dark, short and hairy – they had a sharp claw inside their legs, they stank….. And they kept gobbing on me!’

Caddoc Morgan lifted his shirt and exposed his pallid, flabby love-handles which were covered in scratches. Once he had started, Caddoc could not stop his mouth or the streaming tears. ‘One jumped on my back and clung on – see!’

‘Aha,’ says Sgt Thomas, “a Cling-on” – was it, you have been watching too much Star-Trek Caddoc!’

Caddoc ignored the policeman’s jibe and continued. ‘They took turns riding me – stuck their dirty fat smelly fingers in my gob and rode me like a bloody donkey – up and down the mountainside. When I was knackered, one bit my leg, then they mugged me…. stole my hundred quid mobile and my sweets!’ ‘Sweets! Did you say?’ repeats Sgt Thomas: writing everything down.

‘Don’t worry my cariad; Mam will get you another mobile,’ Mrs. Morgan consoles. ‘And then,’ continues Caddoc, they gave me a bloody good bashing.’

Doctor Tudor Ellis examines Caddoc’s leg. ‘A bite all right,’ he confirms, ‘a big dog bite! That means a painful course of rabies injections, I’m afraid Caddoc,’ says the doctor preparing an overlarge syringe!

‘It was not a dog stupid,’ screams Caddoc, ‘how could a dog stick its smelly fingers in my gob and mug me?’

The doctor and the policeman regard Caddoc with obvious distain.

‘There was also a small person – a kind of bug that could fly!’ Caddoc regretted saying this immediately – he had now overdone the truth.

‘I see,’ says Sgt Thomas, putting away his note book. ‘There is not much I can do if the “little people” were involved.’

‘Don’t be stupid!’ snaps Caddoc angrily; for once when he was telling the truth, he was being ridiculed. ‘Look,’ shouts Caddoc pulling down his trousers and mooning the two professionals, ‘it stung me on the arse!’

Dr Tudor Ellis inspects the red-inflamed sting. ‘Dear me!’ he exclaims, ‘I have only ever seen similar stings before – when the twins from Bryn-y-Afon went bird nesting in the high glade.’

‘See – I told you,’ says Caddoc. ‘I saw it lower its arse – and sting me!’

‘It was probably a very large hornet,’ suggests Dr Tudor Ellis…. ‘there are some on the mountain.’

‘It was not a bloody hornet,’ snaps Caddoc, ‘it was a foot long…. I saw its face grinning at me!’

‘Look Mrs. Morgan,’ concludes Dr Tudor Ellis, ‘Caddoc has been attacked by a big dog…..then stung by a very large hornet!’

‘How can a large dog give my Caddoc two black eyes?’ snaps Mrs. Morgan…. ‘Answer that Dr Tudor Ellis!’

‘It was probably a big boxer dog Mrs. Morgan,’ answers Sgt Thomas, with a smirk.

‘That’s not funny Thomas Thomas,’ Mrs. Morgan scolds.

‘A stray boxer dog has been reported wandering about,’ Sgt Thomas replies. ‘Morgan the Milk!’ Mrs. Morgan orders. ‘Get your shotgun and go after that stray boxer dog!’

‘Now then Mrs. Morgan,’ says Sgt Thomas, ‘we don’t want Morgan the Milk wandering around at night with a loaded shotgun!’

‘I don’t have any cartridges anyway,’ replies Morgan the Milk lifting his head from the Sporting Life and rolling a cigarette.

‘Or a gun license!’ adds Sgt Thomas.

‘Look here lad,’ says the policeman, leaning over Caddoc. ‘I cannot write this rubbish down, I would be the laughing stock of Tala Pandy, and all of all Gwynedd and Powys…..all of Wales in fact……I need facts, see.’

Caddoc’s small black ringed eyes studied the policeman’s face with malicious intent. ‘Err, disgusting!’ Caddoc observes. ‘Hair is growing out of your nose and ears – it’s making me want to spew up!’ Then suddenly Caddoc remembers. ‘Blodwyn Jones – Blodwyn Jones!’ he cries out.

‘Blodwyn Jones!’ they all repeated. ‘Was she there?’ Sgt Thomas asks.

‘No,’ replies Caddoc. ‘She set it all up!’

‘Caddoc is suffering from aftershock…. He needs rest,’ advises Doctor Tudor Ellis.

‘It’s the bloody truth!’ Caddoc swears. ‘Why don’t you believe the truth?’

‘Does my Caddoc need counseling Doctor?’ asks Mrs. Morgan, concerned.

‘I will give him counseling – with the back of my hand – if he swears again,’ says Sgt Thomas.

‘And about bloody time!’ Mumbles Morgan the Milk under his breath: before withdrawing his head back into the Sporting Life like a nervous turtle.

‘Now bend over Caddoc,’ says Dr Tudor Ellis, ‘this rabies injection will hurt.’ Caddoc gave out a bellow as the injection sank deep – then passed out! ‘I wouldn’t put it past that Blodwyn Jones – she is a right little Madame,’ says Mrs. Morgan. ‘You will have to have a word with her Sgt Thomas.’

‘I will be around the Jones’s first thing Mrs. Morgan,’ replies Sgt Thomas. ‘Now – good night to you.’

‘Are you really going to see the Jones’s, Tom?’ asks Doctor Tudor Ellis, as they walked home.

‘Of course Tudor – first thing to order a nice leg of Welsh lamb from Blodwyn’s dad, Brian – for my Sunday lunch see.’

Caddoc got his new mobile the next day; a more expensive model bought by his mother. One week later, when he had partly recovered from his ordeal: Caddoc planned revenge. He sat at his game boy dressed in a brand new Yankees baseball jacket and cap; a present from his doting mother. He sat in a zombie like trance – eyes blank, fixed on a flashing screen. Suddenly the images on the screen began to distort – to his horror the face of a Tartarus Hob appeared! Caddoc quickly switched the game boy off; then jumped out of his skin when his new mobile rang.

The call came from his stolen mobile! Caddoc thought he recognized the voice – it sounded like Myfanwy Jenkins – but impossible!

‘I am waiting for you Caddoc!’ the voice announces. ‘A Hob is at your window.’ The grinning face of Bulrus Khan peered in at him through the open window! Caddoc slammed the open window shut. ‘I can’t come – I am too scared to leave my room, see,’ Caddoc pleads.

‘You should be scared to stay in your room!’ the voice answers.

Caddoc realized the voice was no longer coming from his stolen mobile but from inside his own room! Caddoc’s small pig-like eyes widened and fixed themselves on a dark corner. Something big was moving in a flowing motion; like a stack of patterned car tyres – a giant python! Glassy lidless-eyes in a large, triangular scaled head mesmerized him. A flickering tongue tasted the air. The giant constrictor hissed! Caddoc Morgan, the heartless bully picked up his new trainers and shot out of the door – like a rat up a drain pipe.

Two Tartarus Hobs
–
Bulrus Khan and Bellbinder waited in the shadows. They pulled and tugged Caddoc across the ford and up the lonely mountain path; his second ordeal was about to begin.

Nearing the big rock Caddoc heard mad laughter, accompanied by grunts and squeals of pain! He saw an old hook-nosed Hag riding nimbly on the back of the Tartarus Hob Bunderhund. The old hag was biting the Hob’s ear to make him run faster. She agilely leapt off the Hob’s back at Caddoc’s approach and regarded the shaking bully. A large purple mole with hairs sprouting stood proud on the hag’s big hooked conk; at the tip of which, a long silvery dewdrop clung – defying gravity!

Caddoc watched the elastic dewdrop rise and fall: horribly fascinated. The Hag’s eyes were deep set and dark ringed; yet sparkled emerald green! Her wrinkled skin seemed to be decaying and was ingrained with dirt; her rotten teeth black and broken.

And worst of all the – old Hag stank of puke and pee – it turned his stomach! ‘It’s Caddoc Morgan – is it,’ says the old Hag in a very pronounced Welsh accent. ‘Have you ever snogged a weasel Caddoc?’

‘No – way José!’ answers the bully Caddoc: trying to sound brave.

‘Now then,’ says the old Hag, ‘I am going to ride you over jumps see – or as your old dad “Morgan the Milk” would say – “over the sticks.”

She then pinched Caddoc’s thick legs with her skinny, clawed hand. ‘Ah, good strong legs boyo isn’t it.’

‘I have started pumping iron,’ says Caddoc: puffing out his chest to look bigger; an attempt to intimidate the grotty and gruesome old crone.

‘Are you sure it’s Iron you are pumping Caddoc – and not wood!’ the old Hag asks with a snigger.

Caddoc looked sheepish! The three Hobs started to laugh – then stopped and scratched their shaggy heads – not understanding the joke.

‘Now Caddoc,’ continued the horrible Hag, ‘if you shy at the jumps I will stick my lovely fingers in your little pudding-hole and larrup and lampoon you with this stick see – while biting your little fat lug-flaps.’ She then pulled back her thin wrinkled lips and chomped her black rotten teeth in a biting demonstration. The old Hag noticed Caddoc’s new jacket and felt the material with boney hand. ‘A lovely bit of smutter my dear,’ the old Hag announces in a Fagin accent. She then wiped the over long dew-drop on the horrified Caddoc’s new jacket.

‘Now then Caddoc,’ the old Hag croaked, returning to a strong Welsh accent, ‘how would you like to see my lovely legs cariad – for a fiver? Or alternatively, you can snog me – but if you use your tongue – it will cost more see!’ The old crone pursed her thin cracked, wrinkled lips expectantly. Caddoc grimaced. Kissing the old crone or looking at her legs were the last things Caddoc wanted! ‘I haven’t got a fiver, see,’ Caddoc lies.

Immediately, powerful arms grabbed his ankles, and turned Caddoc upside down – shaking him. A shower of sweets and pound coins fell on the stony mountain path.

‘Ten pounds!’ exclaims the delighted old crone; on her hands and knees, counting, and stuffing her pockets with money and sweets. ‘I have changed my mind Caddoc,’ says the old Hag, ‘the price has gone up to ten pounds, inflation see! Looking at my lovely legs Caddoc is much better than looking at all those magazines you keep under your bed.

Caddoc gulped, his secret was out! He did not realize his mother had found the magazines three months ago while making his bed! ‘I found them in a skip,’ fibs Caddoc. ‘I brought them home to burn – to protect other children!’ The three Tartarus Hobs rocked with laughter – they were regular skip-miners!

‘Now, Caddoc – you can see the real thing!’ The old hag croaked: lifting her tattered dirt covered skirt and exposing a pair of disgusting, nauseating, scrawny bandy, blue veined legs; covered in coarse black hairs, warts and dirt – with knees like bed-knobs! If you are lucky you may get a glimpse of my drawers!’ giggles the old Hag. Caddoc retched!

The old Hag then wiggled her long filthy, bony crooked toes; with long dirty yellow toenails right under Caddoc’s pug snout. Caddoc winced: but he noticed two sparkling diamond rings!

‘Don’t you think I have the most lovely feet – you have ever seen?’ croaked the old Hag. Caddoc felt sick in his stomach, but did his utmost to hold on to the three large deep pan pizzas he had for his tea. ‘That’s enough,’ says the old Hag dropping her skirts and giving Caddoc a wink. ‘I do not want to give you eye-candy for later! Now Caddoc Morgan – if you are good and can save up twenty pounds – I will let you suck my lovely big toe!’ The disgusting old Hag stuck the filthy raised-up smelly digit right under Caddoc’s snout. That was the last straw! Caddoc threw up – a Technicolour yawn, any student at Aberystwyth University would have been proud of.

The old Hag then addresses the three Tartarus Hobs. ‘Get down on your hands and knees – you useless imbeciles – six paces apart.’ The old Hag backed up a dozen strides, hoisted up her tattered skirts; tucking them into her threadbare drawers. Then with a short run-up, she did a double summersault and pike high into the air and landed on Caddoc’s broad back; quickly bringing the hazel switch down hard on his fat backside!

Caddoc took off like a startled colt, up the path. He was then turned and headed for the crouching Hobs at a fast gallop. Caddoc cleared each of the three hobs’ backs, then jumped them from the other direction up-hill and came to an exhausted halt. The old Hag leapt off his back and stood before the panting Caddoc. Before the bully Caddoc Morgan’s eyes the old disgusting Hag turned into the beautiful Myfanwy Jenkins!

Grunwalde giggled at Caddoc’s terrified reaction. Then her face turned serious. ‘I give you fair warning – Caddoc Morgan. Never speak of what you witnessed this night. You are now in the hold of Star-worshipers – a tithe-payer!’ Turning, Grunwalde gracefully glides into the dark woods without a backward glance. Caddoc’s small fat goby-like mouth hung open. ‘What did she mean?’ he asked himself.

‘Idiot,’ says Bellbinder the Tartarus Hob, ‘you are now a servant of the Changelings – to do their bidding – just like we.’

‘Now it’s our turn to ride upon your back,’ Bulrus Khan announces.

Caddoc gulped: but accepted his fate – he had no option!

Thereafter, the three Tartarus Hobs were always waiting for their sport when Caddoc was summoned to the big rock, at the birth of dusk. The Hobs rode him up and down the mountain path, spurring him on with their sharp dewclaws and a hazel switch; occasionally Grunwalde Angharad joined in their jolly japes. Sometimes Bryn Jones the wino watched from the shadowy woods; while moonbeams danced over his ruddy face on windy nights. He would smile; between pulls from his jug of homemade rocket fuel!