Dealing With Tomorrow Part Eight

Part Eight of Twelve of this Seasonal Mystery.

After telling the Caretaker that he'd lock up, Kenneth got to work searching through the cabinets of files. He was astonished at how far back they went. Much of the Old English written by Monks was like another language.

He was still no clearer about the name John Gifford, hesitating he gazed at the door which led underground; It all became clear to him as he remembered the disembodied voice in his dream saying: Below the Bear draws blood! Not that he understood what it meant, but by hook or by crook he was determined to get to the bottom of this secret.

Deciding to take his chances on the tunnels, Reverend picked up the receiver and dialed home. Bridgette answered and Kenneth started to explain without revealing his plans. “Sorry love – got a lot to catch up on here.” He looked at his watch, it was 3.30pm. “We'll have to leave the shopping for tomorrow and the casserole I'm afraid.” Kenneth felt awful for making arrangements and then breaking them, but this was more important. “Is everything okay at the house?” He inquired. Kenneth would never get used to calling it the Vicarage or Manor, it just wasn't his way.

Bridgette seemed fine and Kenneth thought about how lucky he was that she always understood. Putting the receiver down and rubbing his hands together, the Reverend made his way to the small kitchen off of the office. There was a tiny sink below a window that looked out over the graveyard. There were some Magpies sat up high in the Yew tree which overhung a large tomb. Kenneth adored the Yew, it had its connotations but he just thought it was a beautiful tree. Smiling he went back to washing out a cup. Then picking the kettle up he filled it with water then plugged it in.

Soon he was back in the office and sipping hot coffee. As he sat there pondering on the door in the floor, Kenneth contemplated phoning Bridgette again and letting her know of his plans, but then he changed his mind knowing that his Wife would probably tell him it was a foolish idea and how dangerous it was that he shouldn't go down there alone. The voice in his head told him different: that it was up to him to find the truth before it was too late, so that was what he intended to do.

Placing the now empty cup down on the desk, he found a large torch. Lifting the round iron handle, the door was heavy which surprised Kenneth, as he revealed the darkness of the opening.

An icy cold breeze left him feeling unwelcome to be entering this underground hole. He shuddered as he climbed down the wooden ladder, he'd never liked heights and had no idea how far down it went.

Once his feet touched the stone floor below it wasn't as eerie as he first expected. In the gloomy darkness Kenneth was surprised at how unafraid he now felt. Shining the torch around the Reverend noticed old barrels, some wooden crates and old frayed fishing nets laying across deteriorating lobster pots.

The tunnel stretched on into the darkness, it was all so quiet that Kenneth was even aware of his own breathing and felt his heartbeat which was slightly stressful. Taking a deep breath he made his way further along wondering who could have dug these tunnels that twisted and turned. When the Reverend came to a fork he was unsure which way to go until he felt the need to turn left, he was following his instincts which were usually right.

Cobwebs trailed through the darkness along cracks in walls like hidden treasures as Kenneth illuminated them with his torchlight, the dazzle had some spiders scuttling further into the crevices, while others remained unperturbed.

The Reverend scrutinized what he thought were scribbles scratched into the wall it left him agitated. The twisted, crooked forms were muddled and confusing so he decided to take a different approach, turning his attention to the bottom of the wall first and working upwards. After much probing and assessing, walking backwards and forwards, he finally realized it was some sort of large creature with hair all over its body, the beast was lying as if dead in a coffin with giant paws folded across its chest.

The Reverend bent down shining light along the bottom of the wall, at first unintelligible, he then got the gist of words winding along the bottom. It read: Here lies John Gifford – Savior of all creatures both great and small. Died 1598.

Kenneth couldn't believe his eyes, he knew then that behind this wall was a man's body. The rhythmic pulse of the Reverend's heart began to beat faster. Excitement building he decided that even if it meant working through the night he'd get to the bottom of this mystery.

With determination in his stride the Reverend made his way back. Climbing the ladder was no longer a problem his courage having returned. He now knew this man John Gifford was real, humble and compassionate to animals and needed to be recognized.

To be continued...