The Trinity Connection:

Correlation of Worlds

1

Savernake Gazette

Mysterious crop circles are appearing round the county. Farmers

and scientists are perplexed as to how they are made. One

suggestion is that they are formed from wind currents, a sort

of mini tornado. Yet no one has ever witnessed a crop circle being

made.

The Minister of Agriculture is also baffled as to how these crop

circles keep occurring but added, “as long as the county keeps

producing all year long food crops we should view it beneficial

to the economy.”

The Minister made reference to the unusual weather that allows

farmers to continue harvesting and planting even while the rest

of the country froze or had floods...

           River fanned the news article round his face as he searched the board. Grabbing his shoe he carefully manoeuvred the article with a yellow pin and began to hammer it with his shoe. He gave the pin one last push. “Good.” Satisfied he threw the shoe back to the pile it had come from on the floor.

           Zig-Zag crossed his paws and plopped his head on them while watching everything that River did. Zig-Zag or Ziggy for short, was the family’s three-year-old lemon beagle that had a mind of his own. He found it difficult to walk in a straight line especially on the lead and instead he would zig zag across from side to side tripping you up, though not on purpose, hence his name. He was the family’s pet but he spent every waking moment with River.

           River picked up another news article and began to read:

Savernake Gazette

Strange sightings of a phantom plane have been

reported to local policeman Sergeant Jacobs.

The mysterious plane appears to be a Spitfire

from World War...

           River stopped reading he knew immediately where this needed to go. Taking a blue pin, he placed the article with the pictures and photos of World War II planes.

           Sticking the pin on the map gave River purpose. The pin would not go in. River shrugged and pushed it. Ten reported sightings this year alone and it was only April. What was coming next would only add to the mystery.

           Televisions and lights turning off on their own is one thing but what happens when frozen meals are already cooked from the freezer! Animals go missing and those that remain behave strangely. Who had heard of dogs that climb trees? Spiders do not spin webs but live in ponds while frogs choose to make their homes in birds’ nests!

           River sat back on his bed and searched the map for an answer. He pushed his blond straggly hair out of his face. His brown eyes glistened while he searched for an answer at the map. Yet none came only more questions burned in his mind. His mother needed to make an appointment at the salon for him. River knew he would have to cut his hair again. He could not stand it when it got too long. Though his mother did not mind. His mother did not mind about anything since their father left.

           River and Brooke had moved here to the country when their parents had split up. Yet their father had been gone so long that River could hardly remember him or even remember him leaving for that matter.

           River took the cut-out news article and fanned it round his face while he peered at the map. “What to do?” He breathed out a sigh.

           Staring at the cluttered board he gave a nod of satisfaction. A job well done. Now all he had to do was work out exactly what was going on. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and scratched his head while he stared at the map.

           The map was covered in news articles, disappearance notices, photos, and scraps of ideas written in different coloured pen, pictures of crop circles, strange cloud shapes and formations. A whole host of pictures of Spitfires, B52 Bombers and Lancaster planes with old photos of an R.A.F. pilot had pride of place on the map of mystery. Along with old pictures and photos from World War 2. What was the connection? Not to mention Merlin.

           Merlin.

           River picked up another news article and began to read.

           “River.”

           A knock at the door brought River back from his thoughts. “Come in Brooke.”

           The door slowly opened and a head peered round it. A brown-haired girl with deep blue eyes smiled at River. His twin sister Brooke was his little sister by eleven minutes. The two were inseparable. When River had fallen from his bike Brooke had the scars.

           The two siblings knew something strange was going on in Savernake. The appearance of mysterious planes and sounds like a mechanical hum over the Wessex Triangle was enough to convince them.

           “Something is going on River. She’s conjuring.” Brooke softly said with a nod towards the door-beckoning River outside.

           River took a deep breath. “Well let’s investigate then.”

           River and Brooke ventured downstairs. The house was completely dark except for the glow of flickering light emanating from the kitchen. A shrieking sound pierced the air. River and Brooke stopped in their tracks, looked at each other and then shot down the rest of the stairs.

           River went first. He slowly peered round the door hiding most of his body from view. Brooke stood carefully behind her brother. “Oh my God.” He exclaimed.

           A fuchsia pink haired woman in a rara mini skirt and skull tights danced round the kitchen singing along to her ipod. The kitchen was in darkness apart from the light of candles illuminating the room. The kitchen was as messy as the rest of the house except herbs hung from every corner with coloured ribbons pertaining to their magical use. Rows and rows of different coloured glass jars with items in such as acorns, corks, pebbles, salts and all manner of things. Everything imaginable and everything possible could be used for magic, as with magic anything is possible.

           Oblivious the woman danced round a big iron pot in the middle of the kitchen bubbling away. The cauldron had no need for a fire. This was pure magic. The cauldron had been passed along the generations to River and Brooke’s mother and one day it would be theirs.

           As the woman danced her beads and bangles swished from side to side as she swirled round the cauldron. Every so often she would spontaneously drop herbs or items such as a shell into the magical pot which spluttered and coughed at another ingredient.

           Suddenly seeing River and Brooke, who had now joined her brother in the kitchen. The woman shouted, “HELLO DARLINGS.”

River and Brooke closed their eyes and scrunched their faces before River signalled to their mother she still had her earphones in.

           “Oh.” She grabbed the lead and popped the earphones out.

           “Mum, what are you doing?”

           Sally was amazed that her son would even question her, as it was clearly obvious she merely replied. “World peace.”

           Just then a strange curdling sound arose from the cauldron. The three moved closer and listened eagerly to the gurgling pot. River and Brooke stopped and slowly knelt down as their mother crept closer to the cauldron. Ziggy did not even venture into the kitchen instead he lingered outside. He never did like the cauldron. The cauldron uttered a sound like a sneeze before exploding all over the kitchen and all over their mother.

           “Ewww. Yuk!” Their mother coughed as she began picking slimy gooey bits off herself.

           Two glistening green eyes suddenly appeared on the shelf next to the glass jars. Tarragon the cat had opened her eyes to see what all the commotion was all about. Tarragon was their mother’s cat. As Tarragon only ever stayed with their mother especially when she was casting or weaving healing spells. Tarragon stayed to herself and did her own thing when she wanted. She was a sheer black cat who looked like black velvet. At night, you could not see her except for her two bright green eyes.

           Brooke shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “Well at least it wasn’t tea mum.”

           Their mother was just about to answer when it began. Ziggy heard the sound before the humans did and moaned as he cowered his neck. Tarragon curled into a ball with her paws over her ears. A droning mechanical sound hummed all around the house. The family stood still as Brooke sprang into action when River shouted, “Brooke, the recorder,” before running to the door. Their mother followed in pursuit.

           Pulling the front door open River sprinted into the garden. Brooke joined them handing River the recorder. Switching the recorder on he held it high in the air as if to scoop up every piece of sound. The family stood in the twilight air of a spring evening, fresh from the April rain. The evergreens of the forest swayed in the evening breeze as the family listened to the droning sound of an engine of some kind.

           It echoed high in the clouds and all around them. Suddenly on top of that sound came a different noise one which seemed to be recognisable. That of a plane in trouble spluttering as it tried to fly.

           River turned to Brooke and his mother. “What is it?”

           “Look!” Pointed his mother.

           River turned back to look at the sky again. There darting in and out of the clouds was a plane. Though it appeared to be invisible at times. It was as if the plane was a shadow upon the clouds though it had no mass. A translucent plane with the roundel of a Spitfire clearly marked.

           The plane dipped and spluttered before rising again. It flew towards the deep part of the forest then just as it suddenly began the noise stopped as the plane’s engine coughed and spluttered one last time.

           The family watched helpless as the plane plummeted down and appeared to crash in the forest.

           “Let’s go.” Shouted River as he and Brooke raced to their bikes.

           “Ok you two be careful and be back before its completely dark.” Shouted their mother after them.

           Ziggy barked and ran after them to the forest but stopped. He raised his brown shiny nose into the air and sniffed before turning back.

           Cycling frantically through the trees the two did not realise they were going further and further into the deep forest. The darkness was closing in around like a cloak swooping round them.

           “River.” Shouted Brooke.

           “It fell over here somewhere.” River replied cycling as fast as he could. He wanted to find that plane. He needed to find that plane.

           “River. It’s too dark. We should go back.” Shouted Brooke after him.

           River squeaked his brakes to a sharp stop. Brooke joined him with a skid of her wheels. “It’s too dark to see anything River. We should go back.”

           River searched the darkness with his eyes knowing his sister was right. Even with their bike lights on they could not see much.

           “Ok Brooke we’ll head back. I need to record this anyway.”

           The two turned their bikes round and began to gently cycle home. It was dark and their lights beamed through the forest. The night was dark as no moon shone in the sky. The trees creaked in the darkness as a cool breeze rustled through them. Deep in their thoughts the two siblings did not see him watching them.

He hid in the shadows. A cloaked figure that hung to every tree they passed. As soon as River and Brooke had cycled passed a tree he was there holding onto it. The figure watched River and Brooke reach their home safely. He held onto the trunk of the last tree before sliding into the forest once more.