04 Village Teacher by Jack Sheffield

also a huge
Star Trek
fan and he had converted his attic into the flight deck of the Starship Enterprise. For, in the strange world of Eugene Scrimshaw, he loved acting out his role as James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the
USS Enterprise
.
    He had recorded the opening soundtrack of
Star Trek
on his Grundig reel-to-reel tape recorder. When he pressed the start button he would transport himself into the twenty-third century with his imaginary First Officer, the cool, analytical, logical Mr Spock.
    Around him were life-size posters of his crew, including Lieutenant Sulu at the flight controls; chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Scott; chief medical officer Dr Leonard McCoy and the attractive, long-legged communications officer Lieutenant Uhura.
    The diminutive chemist in his over-long white coat reappeared with a dark-brown glass bottle of murky-looking medicine. ‘Here y’are, Mrs Earnshaw. This’ll get Mr Earnshaw’s bowels shiftin’. This stuff ’s better than Dyno-Rod.’
    ‘Thank you, Mr Scrimshaw. Yurra star,’ said Mrs Earnshaw.
    Heathcliffe fiddled with the cap of the bottle. ‘Ah can’t get t’lid off, Mam,’ he said in frustration.
    ‘Y’not s’pposed to,’ shouted Mrs Earnshaw, removing the cap with a confident twist and smelling the medicine. ‘It’s one o’ them new child-proof caps.’
    Terry looked in amazement at the bottle. ‘But how does it know it’s ’Eathcliffe, Mam?’
    ‘C’mon, let’s get ’ome,’ said Mrs Earnshaw.
    ‘Go forth an’ prosper,’ recited Eugene. He raised his right hand, palm facing outwards, and, with some difficulty, he separated his second and third fingers and gave Mrs Earnshaw his V-shaped Vulcan salute.
    Mrs Earnshaw smiled politely and stared wide-eyed in the direction of Peggy. It had been a long day and Peggy was clearly not impressed. She held up her right hand, pretended to throttle an invisible foe, and then proceeded to unpack a box of Erasmic aftershave foam. Had he known, Eugene would have been impressed. Peggy had clearly perfected Mr Spock’s Vulcan nerve-pinch.
    ‘I called in for those headache tablets, Mrs Scrimshaw,’ I said.
    ‘Oh yes, sorry, Mr Sheffield,’ she said, looking distracted. ‘Ah’ve got ’em ’ere,’ and she selected a packet of extra-strength aspirins from behind the counter. ‘There y’are: these’ll do t’trick.’ I put a pound note on top of the ancient till. Mrs Scrimshaw dropped the tablets into a small white paper bag and gave me my change. ‘Y’know, Mr Sheffield, ah met ’im in toiletries in Boots the Chemist,’ said Peggy with a wistful glance. ‘Ah thought ’e were normal then. Anyway, our Mary will be seven tomorrow and we’re all off to t’circus. She’s real excited. Let’s ’ope it cheers ’er up.’
    ‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘and I hope you have a lovely time.’
    As I left she turned her attention to stacking boxes of Setler’s indigestion tablets but, sadly, in her case they were not bringing instant relief.
    On impulse, I turned left past Pratt’s Hardware Emporium and walked into Nora’s Coffee Shop. Dorothy Humpleby was standing behind the counter, fiddling with her pendulous earrings and swaying to Randy Crawford’s ‘One Day I’ll Fly Away’.
    Dorothy regarded me dispassionately. ‘Y’looking down in t’dumps, Mr Sheffield.’
    ‘I’ve got a headache, Dorothy,’ I said.
    Nora Pratt walked in from the back room, carrying her coat and scarf. She was also clutching her script for the forthcoming Ragley annual pantomime. This year it was
Jack and the Beanstalk
.
    ‘Please could I have some water, Dorothy?’ I held up the packet of aspirins. ‘I’ve just got these from the chemist.’
    ‘OK, Mr Sheffield, coming up,’ said Dorothy and she put a glass of water on the counter. ‘ ’E’s a right one is that chemist,’ she added and resumed fiddling with her earrings.
    ‘ ’E loves ’is
Star Twek
does Mr Scwimshaw,’ said Nora as she stuffed her script in her