Paul was busy reading in the Library Staffroom and because his head was buried in a Haynes Manual he only heard part of Naomi’s latest story. He noticed Vikki pick up a book from the table and remove a feather that had been used as a bookmark. It was amazing what librarians found when books were returned, someone once used a slice of crispy bacon as a book mark, in another he had found a love letter, a lottery ticket – no money though and a bizarre photo of someone’s cat in fancy dress, in fact only recently Paul had found dried waterweed in a book about Buffalo Bill Cody’s Wild West Show.
When Paul walked home from work that night the air was crackling with electricity, he was keen to get back because his library book ‘UFO Investigations 1892 to the Present Day’ was heavy in his rucksack. He’d been fascinated by Ufology since he was a lad, that’s why he liked to walk home along the canal, he reckoned that this stretch of water had the most Alien spacecraft sightings in Scotland and he knew because he was there, back in the 90’s.
Paul was wearing his black beanie hat under his head torch but he was suddenly cold so he decided to run the next stretch of the canal to warm up. He was sweating as he approached the bridge, at first he thought a seagull was sitting on the railing but as he got closer he found it was a man in a pair of red Long-Johns sitting cross legged under a street lamp, he had a needle and thread in his hand and he was mending a pair of soft leather pants. On his head he had a Native American Indian head-dress, the headband had small polished glass beads that sparkled in the lamp light and the long feathers he had mistaken for a seagull were strung together neatly with leather thongs. They fell down either side of his red face and over his shoulders and as Paul admired them he noticed the gap, one feather was missing. Happy to stop and catch his breath, Paul decided that there was something interesting about this character, his matted hair looked like a shaggy wig and his face was wrinkled like a walnut and a very strange shade of red. There under the street lamp on the bridge the air felt hot and heavy.
“Looks like we might be in for some thunder?” Paul suggested politely
The old man shook his head and continued to repair his pants.
“You look like you’ve been in the wars?” Paul joked…
The old man scowled and on he sewed.
“I see you’ve lost a feather?” Paul pointed out…
The old man put down his needle and slowly shut his eyes; Paul saw a tear run down the old man’s cheek it left behind a pale tributary on his face and a pink stain started to bloom on his vest as it dripped from his chin.
Then Paul realised that the feather bookmark he had seen at work in the library earlier was a perfect match.
“Did you leave your feather in a library book?” Paul asked
“ Whit? Library – library – library …”
He kept repeating the word Library like a mantra perhaps he was trying not to forget where he had left his missing feather or perhaps he had never heard of a library before? To Paul it sounded like a spell the man was reciting.
“Well if you call in I can get it back to you?” Paul suggested
“Each feather is a badge of honour for bravery” and then another tear travelled down the old man’s face.
An owl hooted and Paul turned to look up the canal and then a roll of thunder echoed under the bridge and SPLASH! Paul turned to find the old man gone. Paul ran down onto the tow path to the nearest orange life preserver but the ring had been stolen and as he looked back at the canal all he could see were bubbles rising from the black water… so Paul pulled off his trainers and dived into the canal to save a life.
Paul was a tall man but he found himself sinking down, down, deeper and down, he realised he still had his heavy rucksack on his back with the Haynes Manual inside so he shrugged it off one shoulder and was about to abandon it when his feet touched the bottom of the canal. Paul’s head torch shone on the lots and lots of old junk: witches cauldrons, rusting stoves, old canon and lots and lots of soup ladles and hundreds and hundreds of cold iron horseshoes. Paul picked one up and put it in his pocket for luck. Then he realised he had been holding his breath all this time…but looking up he could see the arch under the bridge and realised he was in what looked like a snow dome but instead of snowflakes it was full of bubbles of air, he caught a bubble of air in his mouth and could then breath. The bubbles appeared to be coming from a bubble machine that looked curiously like a giant chocolate fountain but when he swam over he noticed that there were words on the side of the iron fountain:
WASTE NOT WANT NOT
Paul walked around the fountain an on the back were more letters:
PROPERTY OF THE CALCUTTA WATER CO
Paul had never been to Calcutta but somehow he liked the taste of Calcutta water bubbles or rather Calcutta air bubbles… in fact the bubbles tasted sweet and tickled the inside of his nose so he felt like a kid again.
Suddenly Paul saw a giant horse galloping towards him, its eyes were wild. The horse slowed and came to a halt in front of Paul and as it shook its great head and reared, its long mane shimmered. Paul looked up at the horse and wanted to touch its soft muzzle but the horse’s shoulder was an arms length above his head, now if it had had on a bridal he could have held on to it…then Paul realised he had an apple in his rucksack so he rummaged in the deep side pocket, grabbed the apple and just as he swung the rucksack back on his shoulders he realised he was being watched…as he lifted his head slowly the horses head descended and Paul came eye to eye with the beast and the huge horse did not blink.
Paul liked anything out of the ordinary and there was nothing ordinary about this evening so far so he reached out with his right hand and touched the mane; it was matted with waterweed and then realised he couldn’t let it go! He put the apple in his teeth as he tried to untangle his right hand with his left then found both hands were stuck, then the horse shook its huge head and Paul was lifted up on its back, the horse galloped away and as it did so it bared its yellow teeth and screamed!
With the apple still clenched in his teeth Paul eyes were almost as wild as those of the phantom horse as they jumped bridges and leapt over locks and soon they entered a long tunnel… a row of old lights flickered along the arched walls, Paul could see a long shadow, a figure silhouetted, a figure that was unearthly it was green from top to toe…something or someone from another world. Then the something or someone spoke:
“Take me to your leader” and to Paul’s surprise the phantom Horse he was riding slowed down then stopped and reared up:
“What do you want from the Kelpie King?”
“Do I speak to the King himself?” The green being enquired
“No, I am The Duke, however it is only I or my brother Baron who may call on the King… what have you come to ask of the Kelpie King?”
“We have come for your Barrino! We have come for your Kolabar! We have come for your Sun Bar…and above all we have come for Carnera your giant horse to pull our intergalactic cart!”
His head above water now Paul saw that the green life-form wore silver shoes and a soft hat behind which an army of aliens were marching through the tunnel towards him, more strange beings in green overalls and a light behind them at the end of the tunnel grew brighter and brighter blinding Paul and then he heard a voice call out:
“Paul! Paul, have you got any cold iron in your pocket?”
Paul thought he recognised the voice but blinded by the light he couldn’t see who was barking orders at him, they sounded confident though they sounded like they were in charge.
What do I have in my pocket he wondered? He usually had a box of tic-tacs and he always had a 2B pencil but nothing iron –he kept his keys in his rucksack. Then he remembered the horseshoe that he had picked up at the edge of the canal he pulled his hands away but still couldn’t get his hands unstuck from the horses’ mane and the green army was advancing down that narrow towpath towards him!
“Look there’s a fountain of aerated water further down the canal!” Paul shouted to the Alien leader.
“But only the Bru will do!” the Alien replied and Paul realised that the sweet tasting air bubbles had indeed tasted like Irn-Bru.
“Danger! Paul! Duck!” another voice behind him shouted.
Paul leant down to see what type of dangerous duck was swimming around in the canal and heard a SWOOSH as something spun through the air above his head. The heavy silver chain landed like a lasso on the giant horses neck. The horse reared then disappeared under the water wearing a glittering silver bridal.
Paul felt hands grab his hoody and pull him up onto the narrow walkway and when he looked up there to his surprise there were Naomi and Vikki from the Library. Vikki was carrying Paul’s trainers and Paul realised that his hands wee empty apart from a handful of waterweed. The three librarians were now facing the approaching alien army and the light at the end of the tunnel grew brighter and they saw the silhouette of a cigar shaped object, a tube pointed at both ends.
Suddenly the sound of galloping hooves and whoops and war cries echoed down the tunnel behind them and Paul turned to see and the old man with the feather headdress galloping towards him followed by a posse of Cowboys.
They were trapped in the middle of the tunnel between two opposing war parties! The noise was deafening as the air crackled as a speedboat roared through Prospect Hill tunnel.
CUT! CUT! CUT! A voice shouted and silence fell in the tunnel
“What are you three doing here?” A man in a black cap clutching a black clapperboard cried reaching behind his ear for a piece of chalk.
Paul, Vikki and Naomi were lost for words.
“You’ve just ruined a perfectly good take! Have you any idea how long that take took to set up? The director man asked
“What’s your name and where do you come from? Naomi asked taking charge
“We’re the B A Cowboys! Ok Let’s reset and we’ll go again! “
The three librarians were shooed along the tunnel and out of shot by the alien commander, under a street lamp Vikki and Naomi realised that they had met this person before.
“ You’ll be needing this…” she whispered as she slipped a small soft object into Naomi’s hand.
“TAKE 2 – ACTION!” The director barked and the clapperboard slammed shut.
On the Monday of Book Week Scotland the three librarians held an impromptu meeting in the Staff Room. On the table in front of them were three items up for discussion: a white feather, a horseshoe and a pink knitted big toe.
“No one is going to believe our stories are true!” Naomi declared
“But our stories did happen, in the past, here in Falkirk” replied Paul
“So how can we explain how we got to travel back in time?” Naomi asked
“You just need stick your head in a book or look on the web” Vikki suggested
Library – library – library…Paul remembered the old man’s chant on the bridge the night before…aye, he thought, good stories can certainly start in a library.
Vikki had another idea so she put up her hand:
“I wonder what other stories Falkirk folk could make up with these three objects – an eagle feather, a horse shoe and a big knitted toe?”
“They couldn’t be weirder that ours could they?” Naomi asked
Paul shook his head, he’d been to a fair few Sci-Fi and Vis-com conventions in his time and he knew that strangers things happened along Falkirk’s canals weirder things happened in ‘Area 51’ than even a librarian could ever dream of.
