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thanks and hope you enjoy this read.
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1 – Dirt Track Road
The breeze seemed to travel around him while he reclined on the soft, green slope beside the dirt track road. It gently lifted the edges of his black shawl which perfectly matched his dark hair. In one hand he held a flute, not a shining concert flute, but a reliable bamboo one. With his other hand he removed the black cowboy hat resting comfortably on his head and placed it on a rock beside him. The wind tickled his ear and played an impossible note on the flute. The bamboo called to him and it wasn’t long before he let his lips touch the sweet flute; then he began to play a tune of his own, trying to match that of the wind.
Then his ears picked up distant footsteps amidst the ballad of the wind and the tune of his flute. His lips slowly backed away from the flute and he wore his hat once more; tipping it down a little to cover one his eyes. Then there was silence, only the wind and footsteps conversed under the radiant sunlight. The voice of a dog and the sound of a singing girl grew gradually louder until the two caught sight of the man at which point the girl stopped singing. The girl and the dog slowed their pace as they came closer and closer towards him. Then her voice flowed towards him, like the music from his flute.
“Hey there,” her voice was sweet and sincere, “Not seen you around here before – are you a traveller?” He didn’t answer and allowed the breeze to pass them one final time; but she persisted, “I’m from the nearby village, were you on your way there?”
“Maybe.” His answer was simple and crisp but it had her racing.
“Maybe you’re a traveller, or maybe you’re heading to the nearby village,” Her eyes lit up and she leaned over while waiting patiently for an answer.
“A bit of both.” He teased, but she kept going, she wanted to know more.
“I’m Melanie, what’s your name? Even thieves and vagabonds have names.” She joked and smiled. He didn’t say anything though and simply looked up into the sky, the black hat still covering part of his face.
“If I told you my name, I wouldn’t be that mysterious travelling musician anymore now would I?” He turned his face towards her and his coal black eyes pierced into her ocean blue irises. She was completely still and said nothing.
The dog walked around the traveller and sniffed his boots. Then it sniffed his shawl and walked higher up onto the slope to do the same to his hat. Sensing no danger he jumped onto the man’s lap and licked his face. Melanie flushed but felt helpless to do anything; she just hoped it hadn’t offended the stranger. To her relief, he petted the dog before getting up. As he did so, the dog wagged its tail playfully.
He started to walk on the dirt track and the dog followed him for a while but abandoned him as soon as it realised Melanie wasn’t following then.
“If you’re heading for the village, you could rest at my house and have dinner with my family.” It was one last attempt; one last try, she thought. There was something about him, something so curious and yet so amazing that Melanie could not help but wait for his answer. She knew there was little chance the stranger would eat with her family, he wasn’t a talker and he didn’t seem interested. She imagined him walking on silently right there and then, even in her thoughts she felt the traveller would just continue along the dirt track, paying no attention to her. To her surprise, he stopped and turned around.
“Sure, why not?” She wasn’t certain whether he could see her eyes glisten like they did; Melanie wasted no time in running up to the traveller and escorting him to her village.
“Where are you from?” Melanie’s father inquired as her mother served bread and cheese to the stranger. The normally cold stone floor was surprisingly warm, but the fireplace wasn’t lit. Whites, the dog, constantly huddled up to the traveller and every so often he would try and steal a piece of meat from the plate. Melanie’s father gave up shouting at Whites once he realised the traveller was quite happy to have Whites share the meal.
“A distant land,” He cut a slice of cheese to accompany the bread while waiting for the next question.
“You must’ve come a long way, what do you think of our village?” Melanie’s mother smiled as she asked.
“It’s calm and peaceful. Earlier today I was on this slope overlooking a valley, which was when I met Melanie,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “You’re lucky to live alongside such beauty.”
“Would you be talking about Melanie or the valley?” Her father laughed, but the traveller did not reply and continued eating his food. Both men were unaware of the blushing Melanie.
“Melanie,” The mother spoke as she stood up, “Would you come with me for a moment?” She beckoned her into the next room. There was silence for the few moments that followed. The traveller tore some bread and ate it with the slice of cheese, while he did so, Melanie’s father got up.
“Excuse me for a moment; they’ve been a while now.” He walked towards the door and didn’t expect the traveller’s comment.
“Compliment your wife for me, she’s a good cook.” He bit into more of the meat as he said so. The father smiled and walked into the room next door where he could see Melanie and his wife whispering to each other.
“No… That’s not right! How can you be sure it’s him?” Melanie was nearly in tears, though she whispered, her father could feel the shock she put into her words. She had grown fond of the mysterious travelling musician from a distant land – and she didn’t know why.
“What’s the matter?” The father looked to his wife for an explanation.
“Yesterday in town they were saying a vagabond was wanted for rape, it could well be our guest.” She looked to her husband for support in the matter. He looked at his daughter then back at his wife before passing his decision.
“Right,” he peered over into the room where the traveller was sat to check if he was still there; once he’d confirmed the traveller was still seated he continued, “You go get the neighbours, I’ll keep him talking.” But as he strode back into the room all that remained was Whites the dog and the traveller’s empty plate.
The smooth stone floor, once warm, was now cold.
