This story was originally part of my latest novel The Experience [to be published 2025]. It is one of five ‘outtakes’ that were originally threaded through the novel’s opening chapters. The job of these stories was to reflect or counter the nature of the narrative’s ‘reality’. Their style and viewpoint being contrary to that of the novel’s. It was eventually decided to remove them, simply to keep the continuity of The Experience’s particular style. Please feel free to comment.
- Tim Bragg
My dad would tell me stories. We’d have fun sitting around the kitchen table when I was very young – him making up stories or all three of us playing board games or a card game. Before Ellie was born but even after she was born and sleeping upstairs, we’d have on a low light or lit candles with the fire crackling in its hearth. That part of my life when everything was normal. Well, perhaps that’s the way everyone views their childhood growing up. My mom would make great food and the children that lived around us knew which house to go to to get well fed.
Stories enchanted me. With the other children we’d act out stories I had in my head. Nearby there were fields and barns to play in; hedges to hide behind; woods to disappear within. One simmering summer evening we decided to stay out late. It was safe. We were free. It was my idea that I would act the part of a wild stag and the other children had to hunt me down. My dad had told me a story about a stag that had been cornered by wild dogs, but the stag dropped his head and antlers and held them off. Tossing a dog into the air as they snarled, barked and attacked. The stag was courageous. In the end the dogs retreated. And behind the stag, in a thicket, was revealed a hind with a new born deer – a calf. How I cheered. My dad said that the young of big deer were called a calf not a fawn and that the stag itself would be called a hart. I really liked that. Now I was going to be that stag, that hart – though I had no hind or calf to protect.
We decided to meet up outside the old pub near the centre of the sprawling village. When I got there, Root was waiting, the first as usual. I had no idea why he was called Root and no-one had ever asked him as far as I knew. I sauntered down the lane that led from the high street. It was only then that the name of the pub The White Hart made any sense. I looked up at the sign as if for the first time. But I’d never connected the painting of the stag with the name. I said hello to Root and we waited for the others to join us. Old Farmer Joe seemed to appear out of nowhere and went into the pub, giving a nod as he passed us.
Root said, ‘Here’s Josh and Abby.’ Abby was the only girl we let play with us, she was fun. Eventually, Colin, Doug and Rob arrived.
‘Where are we off to Jim?’
‘Down to Gallows Wood, I’ve got an idea.’ I’d wanted to make a headdress that looked like antlers but every attempt had failed. Imagination would do the trick like it always did. We ran down the hill whooping and hollering, pretending we were riding horses. Old Ma Aldington saw us from her garden and waved. She probably thought us quite mad.
Once over the squat stone bridge, the water constantly gurgling beneath, we climbed the style and went single file down the path. There were lots of blackberry bushes here and in the late summer and early autumn local folk would collect bowls full.
‘Right,’ I said finally. ‘We’re going to play “hunt the stag”.’
‘Dad hates stag hunting,’ Doug said.
‘It’s horrible,’ Abby added.
‘Yes, I know,’ I said, ‘but it’s a game. I’m going to be the stag, or the hart,’ I added knowingly, ‘and you have to hunt me down.’
‘Why?’ said Root.
‘Why what?’
‘Why do we have to hunt you down?’ Colin answered for him.
Thinking fast I said, ‘Because I’m not really a stag. I’m a bad wizard that’s been turned into one. And if you don’t kill me, I’ll kill all the crops, and cows,’ I said defiantly.
‘And sheep?’ Abby asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Not my sheep,’ Rob said. ‘They’ve won prizes.’ Everyone laughed.
‘I’ll hunt you,’ Josh said. ‘I’ll be the prince…’
‘Abby the princess,’ Root teased.
‘Right. Good,’ I said. ‘Give me ten minutes,’ I said. ‘Has anyone got a watch?’ No-one had. Josh said to Abby, ‘Did you bring your phone?’
She shook her head, ‘Mum wouldn’t let me.’
The other boys jeered.
‘Okay. Okay,’ I said, trying to calm them down. ‘Each of you count to a minute but in turns. Then come after me. You’ve got bows and arrows and swords and that’s it.’
‘And spears?’ Colin asked.
‘Maybe,’ I said. I didn’t know if they would or wouldn’t have had spears. Lances perhaps.
I tore off down the path and the wood began to swallow me up. I could hear Doug counting out loud and deliberately missing numbers out but being told to start again by Abby. Before long there was only the strange quiet of the wood. Not wholly quiet, there was tapping on bark from the distance and insects buzzing close by. But it felt like an entirely different world. Stopping briefly, I decided which way to go. The wood was familiar to me – but you could easily get lost. There were a few well-worn paths but I turned off on a barely recognisable one. The sun was gliding through the branches as I rushed headlong into denser tree trunks. Resting, I could hear shouts from Abby and the boys. Seemed like they were off in another direction.
After some moments hesitation I carried on and eventually came to the old hut. I’d discovered this a few weeks back but no-one else knew about it. It was the perfect place to hide. Glancing in through a window, with a piece of its glass missing, I saw dark shadows. I could smell the mustiness of the interior. I’d been in before and was thinking of clearing it out and making it a proper den. Pushing on its wooden door, I opened it enough so that I could get in if necessary. I didn’t want to spend my time in the mushroom-smelling dark, so I found a bush nearby and lay behind it under a patch of sky where the sun hovered for a while. I was so comfortable. I hadn’t slept enough the previous night and so I closed my eyes and I was, as my mum would say, ‘out for the count’.
Waking with a start I looked up to see a man staring down at me. The man had tousled hair, a beard and a look of wildness in his eyes. I attempted to get up but he held me down. As I was about to shout out, he put a dirty hand across my mouth. ‘Please,’ he said, ‘we need help. I’m not going to harm you.’ Releasing his grip on me and removing his hand I had an instance to decide what to do – shout out and try and escape or remain where I was and listen to him. As I looked up at his face I felt an odd sensation, as if I knew him from somewhere.
‘Are you a tramp?’ I asked getting up on my knees. He shook his head. ‘Are you running from the police?’ I asked.
Looking around he said, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing. I just want to…’ He broke off as screams were heard in the distance. His face contorted in fear.
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘They’re my friends. They’re hunting me down.’
‘You too?’
I nodded. I was curious. ‘Are you being hunted?’
He looked around like an animal sniffing the air. ‘Who’s hunting you?’
‘Just some friends. We’re playing a game. I’m a stag.’
He smiled, ‘I see.’ There was some silence between us then he said, ‘I’m like a stag being hunted too. Do you think you could help me?’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘What do you want?’
‘We need some food.’
‘Is there more of you? Have you broken out of prison?’ I asked.
Shaking his head he said, ‘Can I trust you?’ I nodded. He’d been crouching down next to me. As one we got to our feet. ‘We’ve been hiding in that old shed,’ he said. ‘Probably a hide,’ he added.
‘Where are you from?’
‘Not far away,’ he said, ‘and very far away.’ Again he looked about, listening intently. Insects still buzzed and whined their way through the trees. ‘Follow me,’ he said. I held back and I knew he could sense that. ‘It’s okay,’ he said, ‘you can trust me. I just need some help. We need some help. Please.’ His face softened. There was something curious about him. I could hear my parents’ voices in my head – don’t go near strangers, never go with any stranger. On cue a voice shouted out in the wood not far away and another answered but more distant. ‘Please,’ he said again. He walked to the old door and pushed it open, motioning to me to come over. I did. With light coming through the doorway I saw a woman and a child. A toddler. They both looked dirty. The woman was younger than the man.
‘Hello,’ she said. She was sitting in the corner with the child in her arms.
‘Hello.’
‘What’s your name?’ she asked.
‘Jim.’
Looking over at the man she smiled. ‘Can we trust you Jim?’
I nodded. They waited. I said, ‘Yes.’
The man looked out the door. The woman said, ‘I’m Jen. This is our little girl Elizabeth. Beth.’
I looked around the interior of the hut, the shed, and as I got used to the light I could see they’d cleaned it up a bit. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘A few days,’ the man said. ‘We haven’t eaten for a few days. Only drunk water from the stream.’
I thought about the old stone bridge and the water gurgling beneath it. ‘I can get you food,’ I said.
‘That would be great,’ Jen said, ‘Beth is so very hungry.’ She looked over at the man.
‘We ate some berries,’ he said. ‘I need to hunt…or…’
‘I can get you food.’ Then, ‘Why are you running away?’
‘It’s my time,’ the man said.
‘Your time?’
The man looked at Jen. Jen said, ‘He’s too old.’
‘For what?’ I asked.
‘For this world.’
‘Our world,’ the man said. ‘Tell me Jim,’ he said, ‘have you got grandparents?’ I nodded. ‘Are they alive?’
‘Of course,’ I laughed.
‘And are they very old?’
I thought for a moment. ‘Yes.’
The man looked at Jen. ‘I told you,’ he said to her. ‘We have a chance. We have a chance here.’
I was confused. ‘A chance?’
‘Can you get us some food, please,’ Jen asked.
I’d never known someone ask anything in that way before. ‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Good boy,’ the man said, exchanging a smile with Jen. Beth continuing to sleep.
Then we heard, ‘What’s that?’ The voice was startlingly close.
‘Don’t let them find us,’ Jen said.
‘They’re my friends,’ I explained.
‘They mustn’t know about us,’ the man said. ‘We can trust you Jim. But no-one else must know we’re here.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let me go out and I can lead them away.’
‘Go,’ Jen said. The man moved from the door.
‘Hide,’ I said. Beth was beginning to move. The man began to put a few large and heavy old cans around them and began unrolling a black covering of some sort. I smiled. ‘I’ll be back,’ I said, ‘with food.’ Then I squeezed out of the doorway into the light of the wood. The door was quickly shut behind me. As I got out I saw Colin looking about.
Turning, he saw me and shouted, ‘Tally ho!’
Root and Rob appeared. ‘We’ve got the stag,’ Rob shouted.
Root called out, ‘Abby, Josh!’
They splayed out around me. I had to escape them and lead them from the shed.
‘Get him,’ Doug shouted. They tried to grab me. But I fought them back. I wasn’t expecting the game to turn this way.
‘What’s in that hut?’ Root asked as they prowled around me.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
‘Stags can’t talk,’ Abby said, arriving on the scene.
Again they pounced on me – but I fought them off again. It was as if something had grabbed hold of me and was controlling my limbs. I’d never fought in this way before. Colin went towards the hut. I thumped Root in the stomach and threw myself at Colin, bringing him down. Then they began piling on me and I was like a boy drowning in an ocean of limbs. With all my determination I rose and gulped air. I saw Abby close to the hut’s door and then a blood-curdling scream came from within. Everyone stopped. I knew this was my chance. ‘It’s a ghost,’ I said. ‘It’s a monster,’ I added. ‘I saw it.’ Another scream came from inside. The others were frozen. I took a gamble. I got to my feet. ‘I’m free,’ I called out. ‘The stag is free. You can’t catch me.’
Running swiftly, I sensed their dilemma. Whether to go into the hut or save face and follow me. I knew what they would do and sure enough I heard their whoops and shouts again as they made chase. With all my remaining energy I ran as fast as I could. The farther from the hut I could get the safer they would be inside it. I knew this wood better than any of them but I had to lure them away. Keeping a short distance between us, I brought them to one of the main paths and ran hard so that eventually I found myself in open fields. Collapsing in the grass, it wasn’t long before they all arrived.
‘Got you, you’re dead,’ Root said. And we all laughed.
We lay in the grass under the hot sun, panting for breath.
‘I didn’t know you were that good at fighting,’ Doug said.
‘Nor did I,’ I joked.
‘What do you think was in that old shed?’ Abby asked.
‘Maybe a wild animal,’ I said. ‘Or a ghost.’
‘We should go back and investigate,’ Root said.
‘No way,’ said Josh.
‘Not today, at least,’ Colin added.
‘If it’s a wild animal it could be dangerous. Best leave it alone and let it escape,’ I said. ‘If it’s a ghost, I’m going nowhere near.’ They all laughed.
I didn’t say anything to my friends or my family about what I had seen in the hut in the woods. Instinctively I kept it a secret. But I couldn’t get back out on Sunday as my mother announced we were going to see my grandparents. The ones that the man had asked about. By the time we got back it was dark. It was Monday when I got home from school and packed my haversack with food I could find that wouldn’t be missed. I had plenty of time before the sunset, when my parents would worry about me. I told my mum I was off to play football. It was a very safe neighbourhood.
Finding the hut was more difficult than I imagined and at one point I nearly went back home. But I thought of little Beth. Recalling where I had run as a ‘stag’ I eventually found the wooden hut. It felt as if the wood would eat it up by high summer. Looking around to make sure no-one was about I went to the rotting wooden door and knocked. At first there was no response. Pushing the door open, I heard Jen say ‘Who is it? Is it Jim?’ She sounded worried. I entered. ‘It is Jim,’ she said surprised. For some reason I felt as if she wasn’t expecting me. There was only Jen there. ‘They’ll be back soon,’ she explained as I was looking around. ‘Beth’s going for a bathe in the stream.’
‘Is everything okay?’ I asked. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Yep. Monk got some food.’
‘Monk?’
‘My husband,’ she said. ‘It’s what people call him.’
The wooden hut was as tidy as it could be and the window was fixed. Taking off my back pack I handed it to Jen. ‘As much as I could get,’ I said. ‘And a bottle of my dad’s beer too, for…for Monk.’
‘He’ll enjoy that.’ Then, ‘You know we’re not from these parts?’ I nodded. ‘We’re not from around here at all,’ she said. I felt she wanted to say more but the door was opened fully and Monk came in holding Beth in his arms. ‘Jim.’ he said.
‘Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier,’ had to visit my grandparents, then school.’
‘I understand,’ Monk said. He sat Beth down carefully and she immediately got herself onto her feet. I was absorbed by her movements. ‘Thanks,’ Monk said. I smiled at Beth.
‘No-one has seen you?’ I asked.
‘No.’
‘How long will you stay here?’
‘Not sure Jim,’ Monk said. They seem able to track us down.’
‘Who’s they? The police?’ I ask again.
‘Not exactly,’ Monk said, looking over at Jen.
‘Like the police,’ Jen said, ‘but we’ve done nothing wrong…’
‘Nothing but get old,’ Monk said.
‘Monk!’
‘Getting old isn’t a crime,’ I said in innocence.
‘Not yet, maybe,’ Monk said. Then, ‘Are you hungry, will you stay here and eat with us?
‘You can help feed Beth,’ Jen said.
Before I left I asked again if they, or Monk, were in trouble with the police. Jen again explained that they’d done nothing wrong but the authorities were after them.
‘You believe us?’ Jen asked me. I knew she wanted me to believe her, that it was important what I, a boy, thought. I nodded.
Monk said, ‘It’s been good to meet you Jim. Keep your wits about you. Try not to believe everything you’re told by your teachers or what’s on the news. Times can change. Time can…’
‘Monk!’
‘Time can be…’ he searched for his words. ‘Time can be a friend or a foe. It can be like the wind or as solid as a tree. But it’s still growing and changing.’ He looked at Jen. She smiled. ‘It’s been nice meeting you Jim,’ he said. ‘I reckon you’ll grow up into a fine young man. Don’t you think Jen?’
‘Yes, indeed.’ She was holding Beth’s hands and bouncing her up and down.
‘I’ll come tomorrow,’ I said.
‘I think we’ll be gone,’ Monk said. ‘Have to stay one step ahead. Time’s catching up with us.’
‘Oh,’ was all I could say. I said goodbye to Monk and Jen and then stroked Beth’s hair. ‘She’s very nice,’ I said, ‘and she saved you from being discovered when she cried out.’ Jen and Monk looked at each other puzzled. But then smiled.
As I left and looked back they were standing outside next to the door. ‘Take care,’ Jen said. ‘Grow up to be a good man. And stop them if you can.’
I waved. I wanted to ask ‘who?’. But I stopped myself. The next time I looked back they had disappeared. For some reason a tear formed in my eye and rolled down my cheek. I don’t know why.
Root had come to the door. It was Friday night and we were going to town to get some pizza and chips for a treat. ‘Hi Root,’ I said.
‘Hi Jim. Been police all over the village.’
‘Police, what’s happened?’
‘Looking for a dangerous prisoner who’s escaped. Never seen police that looked like them before.’
‘They there now?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Hang on, let me get my shoes on.’
We ran into the centre of the village where the church was. No-one was about. Nothing. ‘I’ve got an idea,’ I said, ‘follow me Root.’
I ran down the lane, past the pub on the left where we had met the previous weekend. Root was right behind me. We got to the bridge and to the style and then we were up and over. Like the wind we rushed along the path and into the wood. ‘Where are we going?’ Root asked nearly out of breath.
‘Can’t you guess?’
We went along a path and then I darted off down another, which was overgrown. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I know how to get there.’ We tore through the bushes and got scratched by thorns and spikes of branches but eventually I stopped, Root nearly crashing into me. ‘There,’ I said triumphantly.
‘That old shed again,’ Root said.
‘Where I beat you all,’ I laughed.
I walked up to the door and knocked on it. Root thought this funny. There was no sound so I pushed it open. ‘Nothing,’ I said out loud. Monk had made a make-shift table which still stood there. It still looked quite tidy but the cans had been knocked over and there was no trace of footsteps in the dust of the hut’s floor. No rubbish. Not a mark. Root was looking about. Then on the table I noticed that there were stalks of grass – and they seemed to spell out something. It wasn’t obvious but I could see they spelt out ‘TIME’ and underneath them were two tiny letters written with blades of grass ‘JH’. I wasn’t being fanciful. I was sure they read TIME with my initials underneath. Well, they had to be mine. But perhaps the J stood for Jen? Without thinking I brushed the stalks and blades from the table top. Root looked at me and I looked back at him innocently.
‘Why did we go to that hut?’ Root asked as we walked back up the lane.
‘I wanted to see if there was a wild animal there, perhaps a deer’s calf…’
In the village a smart-looking man handed us a poster with a photograph on it. At first I didn’t recognise him but I realised it was Monk. Clean shaven, haircut.
‘Seen him around boys?’
‘Who is he?’
‘A fugitive.’
‘What’s that?’ Root asked.
‘Someone running from the law. He might have been with a young woman and a toddler.’ I looked at the man. ‘You know anything son?’ he asked. I wasn’t his son. ‘He could be dangerous.’
‘What’s he done?’ I asked.
‘He’s broken the law.’
‘What’s he done?’ I asked again.
‘He has stepped out of society,’ the man said, ‘stepped out of his obligations.’
‘What’s that?’ Root asked.
But I had a strange feeling come over me. I looked up at the man’s face. There was something different about him but I couldn’t explain what. As we walked away the man shouted over to us, ‘If you see him, make sure you report him.’ Then after a pause. ‘We’re running out of time.’
Reviewed by Tim Bragg
Survivors
As I was walking down the slope into the small valley I could hear voices ringing out and the heavy sound of machinery. This was unexpected. Gradually the sounds quietened. It got me thinking about what a surreal dream we all inhabit – bordering on a nightmare. I’ve mentioned this before but it came to me so clear. What exactly is going on? I was thinking about how we are becoming afraid of our fellow beings. Mind forged manacles indeed – now we are not simply ‘isolating’ ourselves but imprisoning our minds. I carried on and dropped still further to a stream. There stood a man, alone, looking at the waters flowing. It was an encounter. Briskly I continued and as he turned and walked to me I gave him a wide smile (the only form of ‘reaching out’). He seemed perturbed. Maybe this was just my interpretation – but it felt awkward. I said ‘hello’ (‘bonjour’) and he replied in like. After crossing the stream I watched him climb the slope I had previously come down. His trousers were salmon pink in colour – I have this fanciful idea that he came from the stream and took human form! What better time for another species to tread warily into human society. They must never have witnessed us so scared and vulnerable.
