Part 2 of 3
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Tonight, Thomas Blackhall, master frontiersman and student of the occult, finds himself at the edge of exhaustion while attempting to navigate his companions through the frosty wilderness.
Some days, gloomy, my hours are slumberless Dear is the shadows I live with by nonetheless Little white flowers will never awaken Not where the bright culture solace taken you Angels have no fire ever turning you Or they'll be angry if I so don't join in you Welcome to Flashpulp episode 313 This evening we present the long haul A black haul, chronicle part two of three This week's episodes are brought to you by Mike Luoma's glow-in-the-dark radio I'm Mike Luoma, I write science fiction and podcast free chapters each week on my glow-in-the-dark radio I do that because you might not know me yet, but my work has been drawing comparisons to Highland, Clark, and Bradbury. Cool, huh? Actually, it was Anit Cool who made the Bradbury comparison My new book is Alibi Jones and The Sunrise of Her Alibi is trying to find The Sunrise of Her, a lost artifact belonging to the cat-like race The Doc Her. You can hear chapters right now Find out more about me and all my books at glow-in-the-dark radio.com Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings Tonight, Thomas Blackhall, Master Frontiersman, and student of the occult finds himself at the edge of exhaustion while attempting to navigate his companions through the frosty wilderness The Long Hall, a Blackhall Chronicle, part two of three Written by J.R.D. Skinner, art and narration by Popenax, and audio produced by Jessica May The distraction of Blackhall's words did not last long against the increasingly insistent wind Despite the bell's best efforts, the gusting air seemed to find every shirt seam and push aside every mislaid blanket corner Worse yet, the greater speed at which Thomas attempted to carry them to safety, the greater the rolling of the green ship and the more it was necessary to expose tender fingers and bluing hands to steady themselves Blackhall's scrutiny swept the horizon with the persistence of a lighthouse beacon But there remained no sign of a smoky column nor a civilized break in the brackish sea of timber upon which they rode After some four hours of unfaltering drumming, Thomas's arms cramped at the continued exertion If it were not for the simple fact that any change-up would likely send them tumbling through the bristling limbs and to the unwelcoming earth below He would have gladly shared the labor Even with the malnourished and gaunt-eyed bells Supposing they did survive such a fall with minimal wounds, however, Blackhall doubted his belligerent shoulders and aching forearms would stand the client to begin the journey in you There was nothing before it but to continue and to hope Clara's concerns were largely for James and James's largely for Clara Given the arcane resources he demonstrated in their rescue Thomas had begun to suspect that the couple thought him somehow indefatigable and in truth the frontiersmen wished he had one more trick to pull from his collection that might assist them It only made his cadence heavier to know he did not As they sailed over a rising cluster of spruce James spoke of the plans they would enact at their return to populated turf But a particularly abrupt roll of the bow left him with a smile of reminiscence on his lips I do believe this is as harrowing a ride as the one we enjoyed on our wedding eve He told his bride Clara blushed briefly before her memory summoned the incident in question "Huh, yes," she said, turning to Thomas as if an explanation was suddenly necessary "We'd been lent the doctor's nimble buggy for the occasion of our ride from chapel to threshold and father insisted we be led by Praetorian a stallion of his land that was little use for work but paid its way in Saturday night bedding at the local public house We were not halfway home when the brute caught sight of a lynx on the trail Then there was not for it but to hold each other tightly and hope that her first evening of matrimony would not be our last more interested in somehow loosening the knots in his shoulder than conversation Thomas absentmindedly replied "Hmm, a harrowing enough day the best of times as I recall" "Ah!" said Clara "So you are married then?" Shaken from his painful preoccupation, Blackall again allowed his pace to slow The slack and meter did nothing to ease his aches Yet he cleared his throat and said "I knew a man who was asked the same question once I heard the tale when consulted as to if I could help his wife Did your grandmother ever whisper against a scoundrel with the notion that he had hold of some dead man's coins?" The bells shook their heads as they blew meager warmth into their cupped hands Thomas continued "This fella, Bartholomew, stood over six feet and he had the sort of smile that made you feel his friend, however long he'd known him" He'd married young after a passionate romance but his handsome features led him often to temptation There was not a lonely maid or unhappy housewife in the county who did not look over him fondly and he did bask in their attentions His work as a carpenter regularly called him far from home to lay crossbeams or repair roofs and it was in these times that his will was at his weakest For the maidens of the surrounding climb saw only the thickness of his arms and none of the invisible bindings of his union It was during one such job, some repair work on a listing barn that he finally surrendered himself His paranoia however was immediate For it soon came out that his flame had a sister in his hometown and unaware that he had other obligations His soft limb lover was eager to join him there to continue their all-too-hasty courtship While explaining his troubles that evening to the maid who usually acted as his aid and who knew more of his situation than any other The suggestion arose that he might try a pair of dead man's coins That is, the coins laid across the eyes of the deceased Supposedly pay for his journey across the sticks The helpmaid's grandmother and my own had often leveled the accusation that such tender was capable of blinding a spouse to infidelity placed in their drink And it so happened that in the very house that they were staying An uncle was on display to collect condolences before his internment In fact, it was the very damage to the cattle shed on which they worked that had set the man low At their departure Bartholomew brought away more than just his agreed-upon payment Of course, as was their tradition on every previous occasion His wife had kept anxious watch for his return and ran into the field to greet him Two months later with his mistress safely installed in her sister's home he was finally discovered While collecting wild strawberries to jar A quiet-footed widow had stumbled across a trist amongst the tall grass Bartholomew rose in a panic, though a weak man he never intended direct harm to his wife He did love her in his way, but his reason was captive to his instincts With barely a word to his still-naked paramour, he rushed home Placing the stolen tokens and his wronged wife stand a lion wine later that afternoon Who's all that saved him At the same moment she took her first sip Some ten miles off, the Berry-Holland grandmother was nearly trampled by a team of horses She survived with only a weekend's recovery, a fortunate thing considering her age But all memory of her expedition was wiped from mine And she carried an aversion to jams for the rest of her days Bartholomew nearly threw over his affair then But the lusty promises made in secret missives from his spurned concubine were too much And instead, he derived a plan to soothe his loins while maintaining his household Telling her they were meant to bring luck, he affixed the charms to the base of her favored tin cup As she sipped from it each morning, it would renew her artificial myopia And, perversely, each time she finished her draft and spotted the devices She would be reminded of him That is, until the following year In the interceding time Bartholomew had grown brazen Going so far as to carry on even in the out structure that acted as the shop He did not know that, in a rare turn, his wife had decided to bring him his new time meal I suppose the fates, or whatever mystic body governed the magic Could find no other escape for the philanderer The moment she pushed wide the door, the poor woman was immediately And without cause, struck truly and permanently blind Unheard by the screaming, panic-stricken wife His lover retreated for the final time, uttering the same words you had Though with greater disbelief, so you are married then I suspect that it was the same working that kept his wife unaware That prevented any in the area from breaking the girl's heart with the truth of the matter Though their lips trembled only from the cold The disdain and disappointment was obvious in the bell's eyes Unexpectedly, Thomas moved to defend him They did not notice his weakening tone He was a rogue, it's true But when I passed through, a year later, they were still happily married He had abandoned his old ways, because of guilt, yes But also due to the simple fact that his wife's state was, at least in the beginning, largely one of hopelessness Her care meant that he could no longer roam and build, and he was forced to turn his hand to the land An untrained body does not know how to make its way through this world without its primary sense Every chair, step, hot, stove, and forgotten broom was now a threat There was something more though, I believe the enormity of his transgression passed into his mind in that moment Causing a transformation that no lesser shot could have managed A new tradition formed, with careful hands, she fashioned simple sandwiches at the warmth of the kitchen window And then she would proceed with tender strides towards the entrance of their home From her perch, she would sing a tune of her youth, a warbling song of spring and foolish love And he would come in from the fields, grateful for the meal I should add as well that I was told the story from her own lips He could not forgive himself without confession Though it says much of her fortitude and grace that she founded in her to grant him pardon Despite Blackhall's quiet intonation, James smirked at the conclusion, pulling his wife tight to him Claire's gaze though remained firmly on the straining face of the ship's captain "There's something in the curl of your lip that tells me there's more to the tail," she said Thomas made his best effort to shrug His mind was too soaked with fatigue to make any more happy reply than I knew his conversation was an honest one, as he was truly broken when she tumbled into a well some six months after my visit The news that he'd laid a pistol to his temple at her burial came as an honest shock Their past 200 yards of silence, then another cramp set in The depth of this new pain was too much for Blackhall to bear and reflex drew his arms sharply to his body The green ship halted its progress as it unfurled but its startled passengers were less lucky It was not a pleasant descent Flashpulp is presented by flashpulp.com and is released under the Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 3.0 unported license Text and audio commentaries can be sent to comments@flashpulp.com but be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast We'd also like to thank the FreeSound project found at freesound.org For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com And thanks to you for listening. 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