“Red” - by Joanne England
He listened carefully, he had done this a million times before, but he knew tonight was different.
All was quiet, he just had to wait for the church bells to chime.
One…… two…… three….. on the fourth chime, he climbed his way out of the window, gently lowering himself to the damp grass below. He had packed his torch, but he knew he wouldn’t see much, the fog was dense and covered the Vale like an immense white blanket.
Why tonight?
Why couldn’t it be a bright beautiful moonlit night as so many had been before?
It was ‘the test,’ in his heart he knew tonight was ‘the’ night.
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Red was waiting, he loved the boy so much. They had spent so many nights together on top of the hill, counting the stars, watching the moon and listening to Wynnsway. Wynnsway? Who is that, you might ask? Wynnsway. He is my eyes, that gracefully, silently and slowly coast across my wonderful Vale. He is beautiful, mysterious, majestic and an incredibly annoying, know-it-all, owl! He has been with me ever since the Earl of Warwick lovingly placed me here. You could call him ‘my’ protector.
The Earl, all those centuries ago, had made me promise to watch over the Vale. The vast expanse of its enchanting, and captivating landscape. It’s coloured fiields, strong beautiful old trees, and the picturesque charm of the old villages scattered amongst all its splendour.I had accepted this honour with pride and have been ever present, protecting all that live and pass through the Vale.
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The churchyard was an eerie swirl of damp, white crystal-like droplets encasing the gravestones. I could hear my breathing. It was fast. It always was when I fiirst set off to fiind my beloved Red. I needed to focus. They would be out for me tonight, I had to be ready for them.
Red had taught me well, I knew this was my time, my time to fiind my inner strength, my courage, my resolve.
Shhhhhhhhhh, I hear a crack in the undergrowth, is it them? I can’t see. The fog is suffocating me. I drop gently to my knees.
Yes, there it is again, that cracking sound. They are close. So close. I close my eyes, I must control my breathing, gradually it starts to slow. I can’t stay here. It’s far too risky. Slowly I crawl, gently feeling my way, my hands reaching out in front. Slowly does it, inch by inch.
What had Red told me? What did I need to do? I can’t remember, my mind is blank. I can’t do it; tears start to sting my eyes.
Wait. I do remember. He said to me, in his magnifiicent voice, that was as soft as the wind blowing across the Vale. “Boy, listen, listen and look to all the wonderful, sounds and sights of the Vale. The windmill, with its creaking sails, graciously moving through the silent air. The trees allowing themselves to be ruffled by the gentle breeze, church bells ringing. The precious wildlife. All, awe-inspiring, meaningful and breathtaking”.
I listen intently. I can’t hear anything, it’s not working. My breathing is faster again. The tears spring back into my eyes. I’m lost. That feeling of dread is starting to overtake me.
Oh no, I can’t go back, I won’t go back.
Wait.
What was that? It is faint, but it is there. I can hear it; I can hear the Vale. The sounds are wrapping around me like a loving cocoon, swirling, making me feel protected, strong and secure.
Slowly, I put one foot in front of the other. The wonderful sounds of the Vale encasing me. Then I hear him, in the distance, but I know it is him. It is Wynnsway telling me my precious Red is near.
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“Can you see him Wynnsway?”
“No. The fog is so dense. I have fllown over Old Lodge, Springhill and the Hangings and even with my eyes I can’t see a thing. Why did we decide tonight would be the night? It was a mistake. He will never make it. He wasn’t ready. They could creep up on him. We could lose him forever”
“Quiet Wynnsway”
Red spoke. He never spoke much. He preferred to watch over his beautiful Vale and take in all its glory. He loved being hidden, a legend, a powerful, magical red horse, but mostly, he cared about the people that could see him and sought his help.
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The cracking sound came again. They were still close.
I can do this. They are not going to find me.
The fog was starting to disperse. But then, the unthinkable happened.
I could feel them all around me, they were closing in, the smell was disgusting, it was suffocating me like the fog, so intense. I close my eyes.
Was this it? All for nothing? All my dreams gone?
“Red I am so sorry; I have failed you.”
It is so still.
Slowly, I dare to open my eyes. There are two large black discs staring intently at me.
This is it, it’s the end.
Then I heard a voice.
“You made it then boy?”
“What?"
"Well, I didn’t think you would!”
“Wynnsway, is that you?”
“Of course it is, who else would it be?”
Then Red spoke, “My boy, you have made it. Your adventure, your journey, you are now ready.”
I sat with Red as the sun rose. His glorious mane fllowing and shimmering as the early sun caught each hair. Together we watched over the Vale as a new day dawned.
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“Dad, where is my schoolbag?”
“I’ll get it son”
As I bend down to pick up his bag I notice his shoes. It can’t be, it is. It is red soil. I glance to the hill, to him, and once again I feel embraced in his love and presence, protected forever.
Red, our beloved Red, is still there, looking over us all.