The Lose Of A Friend (part 2 of The Mill), chapter 1
"Come on answer me," I started to get a bit worried.
I broke off. Suddenly, as if responding to a call, Max swung his legs so that they were hanging off the branch and he was sitting looking down between them. And then, with barely a pause, and with no break in his concentrated gaze, he gave a violent push forwards and toppled into space.
He fell without a sound, and the waters of the mill pool closed over him. I sprang to my feet with a cry and leaned out over the edge, scanning the surface. No bubbles rose. There was one swirl of a wave, just one, and then the surface was still again, as calm as ever.
I waited.
Time froze at the edge of the pool. I waited, waited for his head to reappear. Time started up once more and I kicked off my shoes and dived into the pool.
As I hit the water, the warm sun peeled off my back as if I had been flayed. My body stung with the cold, my ears rang of silence. All the little flittering and soothing cries of that late summer day were left behind. I opened my eyes and saw around me a green-grey void. Behind me were green fronds that stroked my legs with clammy tips.
I passed by. Around and below was an emerald green emptiness, speared here and there by weak shafts of sunlight which had broken through the surface and now faded away into the depths. The pool was very deep.
Far off I saw Max. He was swimming, but swimming down, his face turned from the hot sun. I pursued him with a knot of panic in me belly and blood pounding in my head, but hard as I beat my legs, I could not catch him. And then I noticed other things moving in the water; pale thin women with long hair streaming like fiver moss, who wrapped their arms round him as he spun in the waters of the mill pool.
I swam towards them, and they turned, and Max's face was white and his eyes were open, but I knew he couldn't see me any more. He smiled and the women smiled with him, they could see me alright - they were looking at me with eyes as green as buried pebbles.
One of them kicked her legs and floated over to me, reaching out with long thin fingers and smiling. Her touch was as cold as ice, then her mouth opened, I heard bubbling before my eyes, her fingers brushed my neck, and I felt a laziness grow over me, a sleepy desire to float amid the quiet things in this peaceful pool, to drift among the rocks and the broken wood and lost, forgotten things and never feel the harshness of the sun again. But I had seen the eyes of my friend Max, and seen his skin, all pasty-white like feet dangled in a river through a summer's afternoon. And suddenly I longed for the touch of wind, the endless colours of the sky and earth and for the sounds that fade in layers across the hills.
So I set about her with my fists, and tore myself from her slender arms. Her mouth opened in startled rage and the water around us turned to foam. I kicked upwards towards the dim daylight arches as her fury sent a million bubbles rushing round me.
Then a hand reached up out of the foam and grabbed my ankle. In my terror, I lashed downwards with my free foot and made sharp contact with something solid. The hand released me, but dragged its nails across my leg as it fell away.
Now the bubbles seemed to carry me upwards in a cushion of spume, and the light grew in brightness till it burst upon the very centre of the mill pool, with the blood throbbing in my wounded calf. The bubbles vanished and thrushes sang in the plum trees. The afternoon was two minutes older then when my feet had left the edge, but that moment had receded in my head to distant depths and the birdsong sounded strange. I swam to the edge and hauled myself out onto the hot stone, from where I gazed stupidly at the calm waters of the mill pool, which hid my friend forever. My lungs breathed air, but cold green water filled my heart.
I broke off. Suddenly, as if responding to a call, Max swung his legs so that they were hanging off the branch and he was sitting looking down between them. And then, with barely a pause, and with no break in his concentrated gaze, he gave a violent push forwards and toppled into space.
He fell without a sound, and the waters of the mill pool closed over him. I sprang to my feet with a cry and leaned out over the edge, scanning the surface. No bubbles rose. There was one swirl of a wave, just one, and then the surface was still again, as calm as ever.
I waited.
Time froze at the edge of the pool. I waited, waited for his head to reappear. Time started up once more and I kicked off my shoes and dived into the pool.
As I hit the water, the warm sun peeled off my back as if I had been flayed. My body stung with the cold, my ears rang of silence. All the little flittering and soothing cries of that late summer day were left behind. I opened my eyes and saw around me a green-grey void. Behind me were green fronds that stroked my legs with clammy tips.
I passed by. Around and below was an emerald green emptiness, speared here and there by weak shafts of sunlight which had broken through the surface and now faded away into the depths. The pool was very deep.
Far off I saw Max. He was swimming, but swimming down, his face turned from the hot sun. I pursued him with a knot of panic in me belly and blood pounding in my head, but hard as I beat my legs, I could not catch him. And then I noticed other things moving in the water; pale thin women with long hair streaming like fiver moss, who wrapped their arms round him as he spun in the waters of the mill pool.
I swam towards them, and they turned, and Max's face was white and his eyes were open, but I knew he couldn't see me any more. He smiled and the women smiled with him, they could see me alright - they were looking at me with eyes as green as buried pebbles.
One of them kicked her legs and floated over to me, reaching out with long thin fingers and smiling. Her touch was as cold as ice, then her mouth opened, I heard bubbling before my eyes, her fingers brushed my neck, and I felt a laziness grow over me, a sleepy desire to float amid the quiet things in this peaceful pool, to drift among the rocks and the broken wood and lost, forgotten things and never feel the harshness of the sun again. But I had seen the eyes of my friend Max, and seen his skin, all pasty-white like feet dangled in a river through a summer's afternoon. And suddenly I longed for the touch of wind, the endless colours of the sky and earth and for the sounds that fade in layers across the hills.
So I set about her with my fists, and tore myself from her slender arms. Her mouth opened in startled rage and the water around us turned to foam. I kicked upwards towards the dim daylight arches as her fury sent a million bubbles rushing round me.
Then a hand reached up out of the foam and grabbed my ankle. In my terror, I lashed downwards with my free foot and made sharp contact with something solid. The hand released me, but dragged its nails across my leg as it fell away.
Now the bubbles seemed to carry me upwards in a cushion of spume, and the light grew in brightness till it burst upon the very centre of the mill pool, with the blood throbbing in my wounded calf. The bubbles vanished and thrushes sang in the plum trees. The afternoon was two minutes older then when my feet had left the edge, but that moment had receded in my head to distant depths and the birdsong sounded strange. I swam to the edge and hauled myself out onto the hot stone, from where I gazed stupidly at the calm waters of the mill pool, which hid my friend forever. My lungs breathed air, but cold green water filled my heart.
