Merlin's Wood (Mythago Wood) by Robert Holdstock Page B

Christmas Eve for the parent. But sometimes he put the head on a small tree, and if the child repented the tree grew into a new body and walked home on its roots. If the parents took the tree-childback, they would have to cut a small piece of the skin, or bark, every year to offer to Old Provider with the fish and fowl. That’s where we get the expression, a chip off the old block. You remember the song Auntie Suzanne and I taught you?
’
    ‘A chip off the block
,
    I’ll live a full clock
.
    A splinter forgot
    I’ll end full of rot
.’
    ‘That’s right. You do remember things well, young man. Well, sleep now, and in the morning we’ll dance around the kitchen to Baloo’s Song
…’
    ‘Saw Black Dog. Saw shadow
.’
    ‘You saw the Black Dog?
’
    ‘It’s hungry. It wants Mummy
.’
    ‘Where did you see it?
’
    ‘It runs up the path. It eats shadows
.’
    ‘What do you mean, It wants Mummy?
’
    ‘Mummy shadow. Black Dog wants to eat Mummy shadow
.’
    Old Provider duly provided, and Christmas Day passed with pleasure, leftovers, and a long walk over the fields. There was no more talk of Black Dogs and Mummy shadows, and Martin’s frisson of excitement when he had thought, for that instant, that Daniel had actually seen something was soon forgotten.
    The songs from Disney’s
Jungle Book
becamesemi-permanent residents in the house until well into the Spring, when the weather, which until then had been abysmal, began to improve dramatically, heralding an early and warm summer and the opportunity for the family to spend time outside.
    Resurrection Sunday was particularly fine, and Martin drove the family across to the megalithic site at Carnac, encouraging Daniel to touch the stones, describing the ranks of uprights, stretching miles towards the west.
    Daniel made it clear that he wished to hear the sea, and they drove to a small bay and descended the steep path to the red sand. Here, Rebecca sat on the rocks peering gloomily through her thick lenses at the shifting ocean. Martin searched for fossils, and Daniel wandered in circles, laughing and shouting.
    And it was here, about half an hour after they had come to the fresh air and salt spray, that Martin saw Daniel pursuing a broken-winged gull. The black-headed bird was weaving across the sand and Daniel was following the creature exactly, reaching for it. When it suddenly jumped, half flying for a few yards before descending again, the boy followed it with his gaze!
    Martin walked stiffly towards his son, his heart thundering. ‘Daniel?’ Daniel looked round and grinned.
    ‘What colour’s the bird, Daniel?’
    ‘Black and white,’ the boy said. ‘Broken wing.’
    ‘Can you see it? Can you see the bird?’
    ‘See it,’ Daniel whispered. ‘Bird shadow. Like Mummy shadow. Like Daddy shadow. See it.’
    ‘My God! At last!’
    He waved a hand in front of Daniel’s eyes and the boy followed the movement, gaze bright, breath sweet as his father kissed him, joyfully, ecstatically. Then he looked towards the rocks. ‘Mummy shadow crying.’
    Rebecca’s head in her hands. She was shuddering silently. Martin ran to her, sat next to her, lifted her chin to peer at the tears. ‘Beck?’
    ‘Christ, Martin. It gets worse. It keeps getting worse. I can feel it going. The world is shrinking. Oh Christ, everything is shrinking, everything’s going dark, everything’s starting to look like shadow.’
    5
    The boy played with his cars, running them across the stone floor using the small radio-control panel, his fingers working the switches confidently and accurately. He was getting tall for his age. He would soon be six, though he looked older, perhaps because he had grown fast in the last few years. He could not see colours, but he could see shades of grey. He was beginning to talk very coherently, almost gabbling, at times, as if catching up for lost conversations, though his conversation was self-centred, occasionally brutal, rarely questioning.
    Martin