Saturday, 19 February 2011

Riders - Missing (Chapter 3 - The second Visit)

I have not been feeling well the past couple of days.  Full of the dreaded flu!  So with a very muzzy head, I hope the start of my next Chapter is not too incoherent. 
I would also like any comments about my previous Chapter (The Meeting) and whether it made any sense or if I have just confused you all tremendously.   I don’t want to go into too much detail about the four riders yet as the ‘who’ and ‘what’ will hopefully unravel through the next couple of Chapters.  But if the general feel is I should explain more about them on introduction, please tell me.

Like all the houses in the street, the house was a nondescript mock Tudor semi-detached house with steeply pitched roof, tall mullioned windows, high chimney and overhanging first floor.  The house was situated on 2-acres of land and had an attached stable with an enclosure at the rear.  It boasted a tall, well maintained hedgerow which ran along the front of the house and obscured it from the neighbours and at the rear of the house was a large, elderly oak tree.   The golden light from the kitchen window fell on the rough bark of the gnarled tree and the gently blowing leaves created patterns on the neatly mowed lawn.  Nothing stirred; it was your typical peaceful family neighbourhood with the average husband and wife with the average two and a half children and one family car.  Everyone was indoors, either eating dinner, watching TV or just relaxing after a long day at work.
The silence was broken by a soft voice drifting out the open kitchen door, ‘Dad’s home.’
The women in the kitchen looked up and turned to the window just in time to see her husband appear next to the stable at the back of the garden.  It amazed her how her son always knew when his father was on his way home, their connection was more than physical it was metaphysical.  She smiled as she watched her son walk across the lawn towards his father.   The boy was already as tall and as lanky as his father, his dark blue eyes and long nose identical.  At this distance the only difference in father and son was the boys shoulder length black hair.  This he had inherited from her.
The sudden roar of a large motorbike caused her to jump and drop the spoon she was holding onto the floor with a clatter.  That confounded motorbike always gave her a fright, but she always forgave Khaos after he begged her forgiveness each time.
The large man parked his pride and joy next to the shed and greeted the young boy standing with his father. ‘T-Man, how’s it hanging?’ be bellowed raising his hand for a high five.
‘Uncle Khaos,’ said the boy humouring the large man by slapping his hand against his.  Khaos always made him laugh with his attempts to remain young and hip as he called it.  ‘You are going to have to apologise to mum again for arriving so noisily,’ laughed TJ.
Khaos looked guiltily towards the main house.  ‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘I really need to buy a muffler for occasions like these.’
Thanatos had finished unbridling his horse and putting him to rest so the three turned and walked slowly up to the house.
‘How was college?’ queried Thanatos.
‘Fine,’ said TJ. ‘We have a Humanities project I may need some help with.’
‘When is it due?’ replied his dad. ‘I am sure I will have time this weekend to help, perhaps after your baseball match.’
‘Only at the end of the month,’ said TJ, ‘so anytime is fine.’
The three men entered the large kitchen and sniffed appreciatively at the delicious aroma wafting around the room.
Before Thanatos could greet his wife, Khaos had dropped dramatically onto one knee in front of her, hands clasped together and a puppy dog look on his face. ‘My sweet, beautiful Mel, forgive me for my rude entry.  I hope I did not frighten you?’ he pleaded.
‘Oh, Khaos,’ laughed Melanie, ‘get up you fool, you are always forgiven.’ She leant over and gave him a friendly peck on the check.
Thanatos chuckled as he watched his large friend struggle to get to his feet, happy that he had been forgiven for his loud arrival, again.  His wife, a petit, dark haired beauty had a real soft spot for the large man.  She mothered him like her favourite child; nothing he did was ever seriously scolded.  Even when he arrived on their doorstep dancing and laughing after a heavy night of drinking wanting to talk and a bed or couch to rest on.  She adored him and all his children who she often babysat when Khaos was away for any length of time. 
Thanatos manoeuvred himself around his son and Khaos to lean over and gently give his wife a kiss.  ‘Hello, my love,’ he greeted. ‘You are far too lenient on him, he will do it again.’
She smiled lovingly up at her husband, ‘I know, but who can get cross with that face.’
They both turned and looked at Khaos standing gazing at them with his sad brown eyes and laughed.
Just then the front doorbell rang.
TJ left the kitchen and made his way through the living room and out into the front room to open the front door.
‘Evening, TJ,’ came a loud masculine voice.  ‘Is your mother home?’
‘Mum,’ called TJ. ‘It’s Mr Smithers.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Melanie under her breath. ‘Not again.’
She slowly wiped her hands on her apron and made her way to the front room. 

No comments:

Post a Comment