The Drawing (Short story By Alexander Wilon)

They say love is the most powerful force in the world. Love knows no barriers or limitations, it reasons not, it listens not to logic or counsel. It cares not about age, appearance or language.

Love wants what it wants and strives to seek the fulfilment of its desire. Love is a force that erupts in the heart. A spark ignites it: a look, a gesture, a comment in passing, a light touch of the hands. It turns fast into a roaring, wild, uncontrollable fire, fanned by the wind of desire.

If love is the most powerful force in the world, than evil should be no match for its power. And yet evil destroys love. Or is evil the absence of love? Or is it a by-product of love, as when the most wonderful food returns to the ground in dark and putrid form.

In such case love plays a part in the creation of evil. Perhaps evil is the tool with which love tests itself. The icy wind that blows deadly on the fire.

Few are those who have felt the power of love to its fullest intensity. Few have experienced the magical powers that transcend the laws of nature. One of these people was Kathryn Stacey. This is her story.

Kathryn Stacey was a country girl. Golden red hair to her shoulder framed a roundish face. She had deep blue eyes, clear and limpid. Her gazes penetrated deep into the soul, making people uneasy. Her friend, and she had only few, described her as a dreamer. To her parents she was a source of pride but also concern and sometimes despair.

Kathryn had emerged from childhood suddenly. Her body, grew fast in all the right places. She was fast turning into a young woman. Her once, stubby legs had now grown slender and long. Her neck was now graceful and distinct. Her walk was soft, feminine and alluring. Her mind, now sixteen years old, was parading before her thoughts of passion, desire, love, companionship, intimacy of body and thought. She longed to fall in love, but did not know how.

Her school work was so poor the teachers felt she could be retarded. Yet she was not that at all. No one really knew who Kathryn was and what she was about to become...

"Kathryn, what are you writing?" erupted the teacher.

"Nothing Sir, just some notes" lied Kathryn, quickly hiding the pages under her grammar book.

"Notes? What notes?" asked Mr. Bell, a fat, little teacher of about 50, with more chins than hair.

"About what you were saying Sir!" exclaimed Kathryn.

"Oh yes, and what was it that I was saying, Kathryn?" retorted Mr. Bell, almost enjoying the inevitable disaster that was before his victim.

"About the life of Napoleon?" proposed Kathryn, her voice becoming more feeble and insecure.

"THAT WAS TWO HOURS AGO!" Shouted triumphantly Mr. Bell. He had caught Kathryn again for the one hundredth time this semester.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE LAST TWO HOURS, KATHRYN? HALLOO, IS THERE ANYONE THERE?" The class started to laugh. Even her two friends laughed at her--that hurt the most.

Kathryn burst into tears, lowering her sobbing head.

"You are a disgrace! Out with you, Out of my class! I will speak to your parents tonight! OUT!" The last sentence caused Kathryn to shudder.

The thought of having to look at her parents' disappointed faces for the twenty-eighth time this year was enough to cause her to sober up quickly and leave the class composed and apparently cool.

"Silly, boring, fat, little man, Kathryn cursed silently" as she marched past Mr. Bell, whose face was so red it looked like a pumpkin.

"Yeah, pumpkin head! Shouted Kathryn ... silently."

She walked out of the class quietly, closing the door behind her, softly, almost reluctantly. After all, she was a polite child.

Kathryn's anger at Mr. Bell left quickly when she felt the breeze on her face. The tall pines swaying in the wind waved to her.

"The trees are my friends" Kathryn sighed. She felt peace, for a little while.

Kathryn was not capable of hating anyone, not even that paunchy little Mr. Bell.

"Hi, gran!"

"What are you doing, here? Why aren't you at school?" asked Mrs. Janice Stacey, a towering, strong woman of about 60.

"I ... I ... " tried to lie Kathryn

"Don't tell me. You got thrown out again! Bloody hell, Kathryn! Mine or mine, your father was bad enough, and now you. You are the same. No ... worse!"

Mrs. Stacey, thundered and whined. She tried to look angry. She thumped on the table with her large, kind, wrinkled fists. The table shuddered and creaked, the tea saucer leaped at the blow, tingling with laughter on the way down.

Barnie the cat lifted his fat furry head, unconcerned--he had seen this before.

Kathryn remained silent long enough and granny Janice's act caved in--as it had always done before.

"Sweet child, my sweet little child" Kathryn felt the tender embrace. She sensed true love and abandoned herself in the warm glowing feeling."

" I didn't mean it gran" whispered Kathryn. "I can't help it. It's so boring at school"

"I know child I know" agreed gran.

"I'll call on the way back from church, I'll speak to your father"

"Thanks gran, I'll tell mum and dad you are coming"

Gran grew silent for a moment.

"Walk me to church, Kathryn, I feel a little weak today"

They descended together hand in hand through a narrow pathway covered in wild blue flowers and weeds.

"Bloody Robert! He promised he would come and take the weeds out"

"You know Kathryn, your father was the most handsome boy in town, he always used to walk to me church before he got married."

The path swerved suddenly to the right. Before the two women appeared the "Devil's Hill" A cruel, frightening climb all the way up to heaven. The road was littered with stones each one waiting to trip the unweary and the old.

"Bloody idiots" cursed gran "who would build a church on the top of a hill". Kathryn agreed and prepared herself for the exhausting trip.

Gran took to the hill as a young mule would. Giant strides forward with an intent in her eyes that increased with each step.

Kathryn felt the full force of gravity.

"Slow down gran, please. I thought you said you felt weak today!"

"Yeah, well... I feel better now"

"Gran, you lied to me" Kathryn shouted amused, laughing.

"Kathryn, I like it when you walk me to me to Church"

"When grandpa was alive the whole family walked to Church together you know. We had the best looking kids in town"

Kathryn grew sad. She knew gran was lonely. She missed her four children. Granpa had died in a far away land, fighting a war he did not understand. She had worked hard, taking menial jobs to raise her young family and give them a future.

She succeeded. John was now a rich accountant in America. Margaret was happily married with an arty type. Peter's life was not so glamorous but, as a plumber, he made more money than all of his bothers and sisters put together. And then there was Robert. Robert was neither successful nor rich. Actually he was struggling to make ends meet as a house painter.

But he cared for his mum. He helped whenever he could. He brought small gifts and even money sometimes. But most of all he brought love. The kind of love mothers dream to receive from their children.

"Robert was the best looking, though, and he was such a dreamer"

"Like me?"

gasped Kathryn trying to catch up with her towering gran. Gran had lowered her head, she leaned forward determined to get to her destination.

"Like you child, just like you are now"

The hill was dying out, losing its grip on the two women.

"Ha! the Devil lost again" laughed gran "I get to speak to God today" "Why do you need to go to Church to speak to God gran? Can't he hear you at home."

"Why do you come to my house? Kathryn"

"Because I love you. I like being with you.---Anyway gran, if God loves you why does he not make you rich. Why didn't he bring back grandpa like you said he would?"

"Kathryn, you are pissing me orf." Granny Janice's face grew as dark as a sudden summers storn and Kathryn knew she'd better be quiet.

Suddenly the wild, nervy road transformed. White pebbles appeared, and a neat trimmed lawn framed the pathway. The sweet scent of roses announced the entrance to the church. A little old wooden building with a tall pointed roof that seemed to pierce the white clouds.

Old Marty was playing the organ, pumping furiously at the pedals, air escaped with a hiss from the many tiny little holes in the organ's old frame. Some of the air managed to blow through the pipes making vibrating sounds that vaguely resembled a hymn.

Gran Janice stopped in front of the church and looked at Kathryn--hopeful.

"No gran, thanks I don't think I will. I better go home now" The old lady nodded and gave her favourite granddaughter a kiss on both cheeks.

"God bless you child,"

She turned slowly towards the door, covered her head with a black well-worn veil and silently, respectfully stepped into God's home.

Kathryn stopped for a moment and looked down to the valley below. She watched the wind play with the leaves, lifting them up high in a whirlpool and letting them fall gently to the ground.

She knew she had to go home .. "later, a little later" she thought and sat under a large maple tree and descended into deep thought.

A loud noise startled the quietness of her mind. She saw a large group of men rushing towards her. They were many, bold, courageous and strong, dressed in armour they climbed the hill fast with the power and swiftness of young stallions. They held swords high over their heads and shouted a war cry.

Ahead of them there was a tall, large man. He wore no armour, but on his head he had a thin crown, in his left hand he held a short sword with a wide flat blade, which shimmered in the light, on the other he carried a shiny round battle shield with a black dragon painted.

From behind her another group of men lunged towards the soldiers. A furious battle erupted. The man with the shield fought with power, slashing at his enemies, piercing their armour with his powerful thrusts. His men advanced rapidly, mowing down their enemies swiftly without mercy.

Kathryn saw them fall dying, crying, moaning. Fear gripped the survivors and they tried to retreat, but the man with the shield blocked their escape. Kathryn saw his sword pierce the throat of one man as he tried desperately to escape. Suddenly all drew quiet. Death had come to collect its harvest and was now leaving satisfied.

The man with the shield approached the maple tree. He knelt before her. Kathryn studied his features, his mature, powerful body leaned over hers. She looked at his eyes, dark, piercing and yet filled with tenderness. His face bore the scars that only time can inflict. And yet in him she saw a child.

He leaned closely and touched her lips with his. Then he withdrew, respectfully;

"Your Highness, your enemies are dead, I behold you, your father and I rejoice in your freedom" Kathryn looked at him, her heart was pounding, she desired more ...

Kathryn felt a pat on her shoulder "Hi Kath how's it going!"

"Oh, Cyril do you have to!" Kathryn was furious, just when she was about to kiss the guy with the crown on his head.

Cyril, stood motionless, perplexed. "What's wrong with ya?"

"Nothing you idiot, I was thinking. You scared me"

Cyril was a roundish boy of about fourteen. He was without doubt the ugliest creature in town. A round face with little eyes, a tiny little mouth to match and an enormous nose that hung like a carrot. Mother nature had forgotten to give him eyebrows but had given him an extra helping of freckles instead. Cyril was fat and a little slow. But he did not seem to know all these things and being alone did not seem to bother him at all.

Kathryn liked him. She had read somewhere that people like Cyril are born to teach people true love. Cyril was growing up, hair had grown on his freckles and his voice was getting deeper. Kathryn looked at him for a moment and thought; "Poor Cyril, he will never know love."

"Your mum and dad are looking for ya" Cyril nodded as he spoke. He liked Kathryn because she was the only person in town that he knew.

"Promise you won't tell them you saw me here" Kathryn spoke hurriedly "Promise!" "What's it worth?" said Cyril. "You little shit" cursed Kathryn, "I'll give you fifty cents" and she handed the coin to the boy.

Cyril let out a loud shrill, he turned his body towards the groceries store and bounced down the hill with the coin held tightly in his hand.

"I wish the man with the shield would come and take me away" Kathryn sighed.

She pulled herself up off the ground and started to walk slowly downhill. The wind had stopped playing with the leaves. Black clouds had gathered in the sky--dark creature looking on her from above. Kathryn knew she was in deep trouble.

 

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Short story By Alexander Wilon