The Paradise War

Chapter 3 The Green Man

I had hoped to see Loch Ness. But all I saw was my own blear-eyed reflection in the car window, made lurid by the map light in the dashboard. It was dark. And late. I was hungry, bored, and tired, aching to stop, and silently cursing myself for being a party to this idiotic outing.

The things I said about Simon were essentially true. He came from a long line of manic depressives, megalomaniacs, and megalomaniac depressives. Still, I had only hoped to get him off his whinging binge. Instead, my impromptu psychoanalysis produced a strained and heavy silence between us. Simon lapsed into sullen withdrawal and would speak only in monosyllabic grunts for the next seven hours. I carried out my navigational duties nevertheless, disregarding his sulk.

The map in my lap put us just south of Inverness. I turned from the window, and peered at the atlas under my thumb.

We were on the A82 approaching a village called Lochend.

The narrow body of the famous monster-bearing lake itself lay a hundred yards off to the right, invisible in the darkness.

«We should see some lights soon,» I said. «Three or four miles.»

I was still bent over the Bartholomew when Simon screamed. «Bloody hell!»

He hit the brakes and swerved. I was thrown against the door. My head thumped the window.

The car dry-skidded to a stop on the road. «Did you see it?» Simon yelled. «Did you see it?»

«Ow!» I rubbed my head. «See what? I didn't see anything.

Simon's eyes glinted wildly in the dim light. He jammed the gearshift into reverse, and the car began rolling backward. «It was one of those things!»

«Things? What things?»

«You know,» he said, twisting around to see out the rear window, «one of those mythical creatures.» His voice was shaky and his hands were trembling.

«A mythical creature-well, that certainly narrows it down.» I craned my neck to look out the back as well, but saw nothing. «What sort of mythical creature exactly?»

«Oh, for God's sake, Lewis!» he shouted, his voice rising hysterically. «Did you see it, or didn't you?»

«All right, calm down. I believe you.» Obviously, he had been driving far too long. «Whatever it was, it's gone now.»

I started to turn away and saw, fleetingly highlighted in the red-and-white glow of the tail lights, the ragged torso of a man. Rather, I saw the upper thigh and lower stomach, and part of an arm as it swung away and out of sight. Judging from the proportions, the body must have been gigantic. I only saw it for the briefest instant, but my strongest impression, the thing that stuck fast in my mind, was that of tree leaves.

«There!» bellowed Simon triumphantly, slamming on the brakes. «There it is again!» He tore at the door handle and burst from the car. He ran up the road a few yards.

«Simon! Get back here!» I yelled, and waited. The sound of his footsteps died away. «Simon?»

Hanging over the seatback, I peered out the rear window. I could not make out a thing beyond the few feet of tarmac illuminated by the tail lights. The engine purred quietly, and through the open car door I heard the sough of wind in the pines like the hissing of giant snakes.

I kept my eyes on the circle of light and presently glimpsed the rapid movement of an approaching figure. A moment later, Simon's face floated into view. He slid into the car, Slammed the door, and locked it. He put his hands on the Steering wheel, but made no other move.

«Well? Did you see anything?»

«You saw it, too, Lewis. I know you did.» He turned to face me. His eyes were bright, his lips drawn back over his teeth. I had never seen him so excited.

«Look, it happened so fast. I don't know what I saw. Let's just get out of here, okay?»

«Describe it.» His voice cracked with the effort it took to hold it level.

«Like I said, I don't think I cou-«

«Describe it!» He smashed the steering wheel with his fists.

«It was a man, I think. It looked like aman. I only saw a leg and an arm, but I think it was a man.»

«What color was it?»

«How should I know what color it was?» I demanded shrilly. «I don't know. It's dark. I didn't see it all that-«

«Tell me what color it was!» Simon's tone was cold and cutting.

«Green, I think. The guy was wearing something green-rags or something.»

Simon nodded slowly and exhaled. «Yeah, green. That's right. You saw it, too.»

«What are we talking about, exactly?» I asked. My stomach twisted itself into a tight knot.

«A huge man,» he answered quietly. «Eight feet tall at least.»

«Right. And wearing a ragged green coat.»

«No.» Simon shook his head firmly. «Not a coat. Not rags.»

«What then?» Tension made my voice sharp.

«Leaves.»

Yes. He'd seen it, too.

We stopped for gas at an all-night service station just outside of Inverness. The clock in the dash read 2:47 AM. Except for a flying stop to fuel the car and grab some sandwiches in Carlisle, it was exactly eleven hours since our last real rest break. Simon had insisted on driving straight through, in order to be, as he put it, «in situ» by daybreak.

Simon saw to the gas while I scrubbed the bug juice from the windshield. He paid the bill and returned to the car, carrying two styrofoam cups of Nescafй. «Drink up,» he said, shoving one into my hand.

We stood in the garish glare of the overhead fluorescent tubes, sipping coffee and staring at each other. «Well?» I said, after a couple minutes of this. «Are you going to say it, or am I?»

«Say what?» Simon favored me with his cool, bland stare-another of the many little tricks.

«For crying out loud, Simon, you know perfectly well what!» The words came out with more force than I intended. I suppose I was still fairly upset. Simon, however, seemed to be well over it. «What we saw out there.» I waved a hand to the highway behind us.

«Get in the car,» he replied.

«No! I'm not getting in the car until-«

«Shut up, Lewis!» he hissed. «Not here. Get in the car and we'll talk.»

I glanced toward the door of the service station. The attendant had wandered out and was watching us. I don't know how much he had heard. I ducked in and slammed the car door. Simon switched on the ignition and we pulled out onto the road.

«Okay, we're in the car,» I said. «So talk.»

«What do you want me to say?»

«I want you to tell me what you think we saw.»

«But that's obvious, don't you think?»

«I want to hear you say it,» I insisted. «Just for the record.»

Simon indulged me with regal forbearance. «All right, just for the record: I think we saw what used to be called a Green Man.» He sipped some coffee. «Satisfied?»

«Is that all?»

«What else is there to say, Lewis? We saw this big, green man-thing. You and I-we both saw it. I really don't know What else to say.»

«You could add that it's plain impossible. Right? You Could say that men made of oak leaves do not, cannot, and never could exist. You could say that there's no such thing as a Green Man-that it's a figure of antique superstition and legend with no basis in reality. You could say we were exhausted from the drive and seeing things that could not be there.»

«I'll say whatever you like, if it will make you happy,» he conceded. «But I saw what I saw. Explain it how you will.»

«But I can't explain it.»

«Is that what's got to you?»

«Yes-among other things.»

«Just why is an explanation so important to you?»

«Excuse me, but I happen to think it's important for any sane and rational human being to keep at least one foot in reality whenever possible.»

He laughed, breaking the tension somewhat. «So, seeing something one can't explain qualifies one as insane in your estimation-is that it?»

«I didn't say that exactly.» He had a nasty habit of bending my words back on me.

«Well, you'll just have to live with it, chum.»

«Live with it? That's it? That's all you've got to say?»

«Until we figure out something better, yes.»

We had come to a small three-way junction. «This is our turn,» I told him. «Take this road to Nairn.»

Simon turned onto the easterly route, drove until we were out of the city, and then pulled off the road onto the shoulder. He allowed the car to slow to a halt, then switched off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt.

«What are you doing?»

«I'm going to sleep. I'm tired. We can get forty winks here and still make it to the farm before sunrise.» He pulled the lever to recline his seat and closed his eyes. In no time at all he was sound asleep.

I watched him for a few moments, thinking to myself:

Simon Rawnson, what have you gotten us mixed up in?