WALKIES
2 A Stroll in the HiIls
If I'd been with my mates, I would have enjoyed the trek through the not very demanding hills. We would have talked, told disgusting jokes, boasted "creatively" about our girlfriends (I still think it's a better idea to pretend all the while I'm living at home.) and generally put the world to rights. In my current situation and with just Smeggy Eddie for company, however, things were less enjoyable. At least the terrain made few demands on the need to use my arms to balance myself and, even though Ed, being hardly encumbered by his very slight burden, got a bit of a shift on, I could breathe reasonably easily in spite of that wooden bit. After a while, however, I started to become concerned about what would happen as its bindings contracted.
I don't know how far we'd walked while I had to listen to my big brother carrying on about how wonderful he was and about all the girls who had fallen into his bed at uni but I started to wish my eardrums would melt. The sun was pleasant enough and I certainly didn't need a shirt. Indeed my back was very sweaty indeed. D' y' know that feeling when sweat trickles down your back and gets channelled down your crack? I hate that! I couldn't even use my hands to try to divert it. Eventually, Ed thought it was time he took a break.
"Right, Shrimp, I need a little rest. Sit down there." My captor indicated a Scots pine and pushed me backwards towards it. "Now, before you sit, would you like me to remove your pack?" I indicated that that would, indeed, be my preference. "Then say, 'Please, Mighty Edward, Sir, please take off my pack because I am such a weak little worm who can't carry it any longer.'" Ed didn't remove the pack. I felt myself in collision with the tree and said pack tried unsuccessfully to work its way up over my ribcage as the old, blackened frying pan moved to the side and I landed on my bum with less dignity than a cat swimming out of a garden pond. "Shame, really, you only had to ask!"
Ed then forced my right ankle up towards my bum. I didn't even notice where he got that padlock from but I was soon unable to straighten my right leg because he had wrapped a length of the chain lead round the ankle and locked it. "There, just so that you don't get any ideas of escape while I take a rest." He grinned and gave me a couple of little slaps on the cheek; then he turned his back and headed for another nearby tree to take his ease.
Ed announced that I obviously had the right idea and that, after he had taken a much needed drink, he thought he would remove his top as well. He removed his canteen from his daypack along with a large tube of sunscreen. I was simply not prepared to beg to be allowed a drink as well even though I badly needed one, it was just too humiliating. Not only would I have to grovel, I would sound like a total gimp while I did it. I would just have to settle for going thirsty. At least I believed that Ed would not really let me get too dehydrated; I had to believe it.
Once Ed had removed his top, it was obvious that he had bulked up even more over the previous year and I wondered whether his rowing and weight training left him any time to work on his engineering degree. He applied the sunscreen as best he could and remarked that the annoying patch of skin that he couldn't quite reach would be shielded by his daypack in any case. He took a bandana out of his pack and tied it round his forehead before replacing his cap so that its peak would protect the nape of his neck. I thought that just went to prove that, when you put a "Gunners" cap on, it lowers your IQ by ten points and that it lowers it by ten points more when you turn it backwards.
Ed came over to me, pushed my head downwards dislodging the bush hat so that he could examine my neck for sunburn. No, I didn't think I would do as invited and tell him how kind he was for taking such good care of me. He then let me raise my head again and replaced the tatty old hat. I knew I needed it but it was no more stylish for that. The lining of Ed's old shorts had worked itself well into my crack and there was no way I could alleviate my consequent discomfort. I started to think better of my refusal to beg my brother to remove the rucksack that was no longer sitting where it should have been when he announced that it was time we got on. Ed knelt and undid the padlock securing my ankle, he took the hazel switch from the side of his under-filled pack and gave it a few demonstration swishes as he suggested that I hurry up and get to my feet.
I don't think he understood all of my barely moderated imprecations as I struggled to my feet by pushing back against the tree, but I knew that he would be likely to wait for a convenient target before taking his revenge for those he could decipher. At least the pack had settled into place by the time I was standing unaided.
"Right, Donkey Boy, stand still." That knife came rather too close to my face for comfort but the leather cords holding that bloody stick in my mouth immediately slackened off. "Don't worry, I was very careful with the knife - - - I've still got plenty of leather left to put your bit back in again later." That grin again. Ed unwound the leather and pulled the gag from my mouth. At least I got a drink from the plastic bottle that he had taken from the side pocket of my pack, he even administered it carefully. I did not thank him for his consideration.
---=====0000000=====---
Once more Ed examined his pack slave to ensure that I was still securely bound, and lifted the back of those grubby white running shorts up for me. Now, that was needed after I had been made first to sit down and then to climb to my feet once more but, predictably, he took things too far. At least with the pack in place, he could only administer a minor wedgie but it still hurt 'down there', if you know what I mean, and my reaction caused the crocodile smile to resurface. At least my package was still adequately contained and, before I could react to prevent it, that hazel twig had been forced into my mouth once more but it was noticeably not tied as tightly as before.
You know that I implied earlier: that I had to believe that my big brother would not seriously endanger me? Well, like I said, he had inspected my neck for sunburn and now he took a second bandana from his day pack, poured some water onto it and tied it like a Scout necker to protect my neck. At least this time I didn't automatically thank him.
The over-sized frying pan was already swinging around and, whenever I moved to any extent, it came into contact with me. It wasn't in any way painful but, because it was just hanging loosely, it was going to be a constant irritant as it swung against me. Ed grabbed the chain and announced that, as I had been a good little donkey ("apart from all that foul-mouthed braying"), he wouldn't make me walk on a lead for the next leg. He then took the hanging end of the chain, fed it up between where it was digging into my waist and my person and pulled. His Little Donkey brayed again as he pulled it though. I was glad it was a welded chain so that the scratching was kept to a minimum. By the time Smegward had finished, there was a loop of chain hanging down to just past my knees and the free end hanging down just a little further. "There, now you won't trip. En't I thoughtful?"
I could do little more than wheeze as I recovered from the 'adjustment' to my bonds that I had just experienced. A couple of seconds later the implications dawned on me. THAT'S when I started begging. Ed didn't seem to understand what I was saying. I wondered whether it was still possible to cut the brake cables on a motor car.
Ed gave the hazel switch a couple of demonstration swishes and ordered, "OK, on your way, Donkey Boy, I'll tell you when you need to turn off the path." The sting, as the switch made contact with my skimpy shorts, wasn't really painful, just enough to ensure that I would want to avoid too may repeats so I got underway with the frying pan bumping me from behind and all that bloody chain massaging my most tender parts in front. I only hoped no one would approach from up ahead.
Even from behind me, Ed was well aware what was happening and he can't have tormented me like that for more than about ten minutes before calling a halt. There was absolutely no point in my trying to hide my 'embarrassment' from my brother as he came round to face me. I settled for glaring at him as he explained his 'new incentive scheme' to me. At least he had the decency not to take any photographs.
What he had to say boiled down to his offer to remove my gag and to arrange the chain in a less tormenting conformation as long as I was prepared not only to kneel down and beg him to do so but to promise to stay silent and to get more of a move on than I had done so far. I had nothing left to lose. Getting up again with a large pack on my back and without being able to use my arms for balance was not particularly easy. If you don't believe me, you should try it some time.
Ed's knife made short shift of the leather thong once more and I soon forced the nutwood stick from my mouth. Ed made a show of tidying the thong, which now sported two knots in it, and placing it carefully in that plastic bag again. The implications were very clear and I decided not to push my luck. The thong and the stick were soon stowed along with the sheath knife. I wondered whether it would be safe to remind Ed about the chain. I didn't need to do so but I didn't exactly enjoy the prospect of its being withdrawn. This time Ed forced his fingers between my abdomen and the portion of the chain that was tightly locked around my waist, creating some space before pulling the free end clear. To say that I made an intake of breath would be unwarranted litotes.
"'Awright, Shrimp?" I had to nod. "Good boy. Just stand still and I'll make sure you don't trip over this thing." So saying, Ed wrapped the chain round my waist and once more that other padlock miraculously appeared. The loose chain went twice round my waist and a bit more besides and was padlocked to the chain belt at my hip leaving only a few centimetres hanging free.
It had gone unsaid that, if I wanted the gag replaced, I knew how to ensure that it was and Smeggy Eddie announced that it was time to hit the road. A sharp sting in my backside helped to reinforce the message and I did my best to make good headway.
---=====0000000=====---
By now we had reached the summit of the nearest hill and Ed indicated that we were going to turn along a ridge towards the next rise so that he could enjoy the views as we walked. Yes, the countryside views from our local hills are renowned but I was glad that there are some tracks that are little frequented by grockles even in high summer. After a fairly long trek, Smegward announced that his exertions had earned him another rest. I decided that it was not an appropriate time to earn myself a further taste of that bit.
Ed offered to remove my pack 'If I asked nicely' so, following some careful mental calculations, I asked as nicely as I was prepared to. It was good enough for him but not before I had sat and crossed my ankles. I could guess what was coming next and, sure enough, Smeggy soon had the chain locked round my ankles robbing me of any opportunity to stand until he was good enough to release me. Sitting like that, I couldn't even enjoy that floating feeling; you know the one: that feeling you get when you put your pack down after a few hours hiking.
Ed dumped the pack against a handy hedge and I eased my aching muscles as much as possible. Ed checked my bonds and did, at least, announce that my rope marks "weren't too bad" before declaring that, "You know, someone really skilful must have tied you up this morning." I had hoped that he would untie me once I was safely chained but that was obviously not to be. Past experience of being 'kept out of trouble' by my big brother should not have encouraged me to hope in the first place.
Ed took a slug from his canteen and gave me some now rather warm water from my bottle. It's surprising how civil we can be towards one another in some strange circumstances and I thanked him when I'd had enough. He even shared his 'Kit-Kat' with me although I did have to cope with each entire finger once he had placed them individually in my mouth. That sight seemed to amuse him, I can't think why. I also got a few slices of apple and, I thought, a rather mingy portion of Kendal Mint Cake. One more draught of water and Ed laid himself down with his head on the large pack for a rest. Needless to say, I could not lie down unless I wanted my legs bizarrely displayed in the air.
At least, while he was resting, I got a rest too - a rest from his boasting, self congratulations and exaggerations; and the cooling breeze unimpeded by the hills was quite refreshing. Not refreshing enough for me to want to repeat today's excursion too soon, though.
---=====0000000=====---
Eventually Ed decided that it was time to get on and he had some proposals to put to me concerning that chain. As he put it, I had the choice: would I like to be on the end of a lead again, would I like it hanging down in front of me again, would I like him to wrap it round my waist like he did before or, perhaps I might like to have my feet shackled with it. He waited for me to choose.
Of course, I had to ask nicely. "Please, Edward, wrap it round my waist," there was a hiatus, "Please."
"Since you ask so nicely, OK." I exhaled. "There's just a small price to pay." I should have known better. "Now, now, would you like me to put that stick back in your mouth?"
"No" I answered almost before he could finish. There was a pause, " - - - - Please!"
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, 'or should I find some other way of ensuring a peaceful walk in the hills?'"
"Please, Ed, no. Have mercy." It would seem that I wasn't humble enough and Smegward reached into his day pack. Did I tell you he was obviously well prepared?
"Remind me, d'you like fruit?" I was puzzled as I looked at the lemon he was holding in one hand but at least I knew what that was. That black stuff in his other hand soon resolved itself into what looked like the remains of a pair of the tights that he wore as a base layer when he went running in the winter after it had been attacked by a maniac. In fact, as you've guessed, that's exactly what it was. I was still puzzled as to the purpose of the two ill-matched items.
"Now, I just need to go into your pack. Where did I put the tent spares?" It was a purely rhetorical question that he needn't have asked, he always packed very systematically and I saw no reason that anything he was likely to have packed for me would be likely to disrupt that system. "Ta-da!". My caring brother produced the little draw-string bag that held the tent pegs, repair kit and spare guy line. He put most of the contents back carefully and closed the pack again.
Ed had that habit of whistling tunelessly to himself when he was happy in his work. The happier he was, the more tuneless and annoying the noise became. He seemed to be VERY happy!
As he worked, I managed to put things in context and made a very good guess as to what he was constructing. When he heard my suppressed, "Oh, shit", the awful noise stopped briefly. It's impossible to whistle while you grin! Ed tied a clove hitch round what was effectively a lycra stocking somewhere near the middle of it and pulled tight before binding a few more rounds of the guy line near the original hitch and tying off tightly a few times. He slipped the lemon into his creation and tied another binding near the captive fruit without cutting the cord. He left the end of the guy line with the tensioning runner in it dangling and the runner quite close to the lemon.
Ed held up his creation admiringly and gave it a quick twirl. He seemed to be even more pleased with himself than usual. When he approached, I thought it would be inadvisable to open my mouth in protest at the time but Smeggy Eddie appealed to reason. "You know where my boot is now? Well, how do you want that chain hammering against it while you're walking?" I opened wide and Edward removed his boot from the front of my shorts. "Good boy."
The lemon, fortunately, was not a large one but the fabric stretched my lips and was far from comfortable once my tormentor had tied it incredibly tightly multiple times behind my neck.. Perhaps I should have chosen the bit after all? "Don't worry, Shrimp, it's lycra, it'll stretch a bit with wear - - - I think."
"Ngghh!" Perhaps it was fortunate that my exclamation was completely indecipherable. Smegward just smiled and patted both my cheeks at once.
"OK, Donkey Boy, on your feet."
"Hnnn! Hnn! Hn!"
"Oh, sorry, forgot, just shuffle your feet up towards your bum a bit." I did as I was told (I was beginning to learn that such was usually the best course of action.) and Ed unlocked my ankles. Even after so short a time I was ready for that. We both examined some prize-winning indentations round my ankles. I thought I saw just the merest hint of concern flicker over Ed's normally smug fizzog. "OK, up you get, Donkey Boy." Perhaps I was wrong. "Feel free to run away." Smugward held all the cards, he knew I couldn't risk that. At least it was easier standing up without that great big pack on my back.
Once I'd had the loose chain fastened in the least inconvenient manner, Ed helped me into the pack with some difficulty. I thought it was about time he had to do some work. The waist belt was tightened above my hips and the shoulder straps adjusted more or less comfortably. "Right, you see that track there? That's where we're going".
Although I recognised all the paths we had taken so far, I had never been down that particular descent before and I couldn't help wondering whether it might not have been a god idea but I could hardly express that reservation to my captor. He simply announced that he'd loosen the top straps on the pack so that I could balance more easily on my way downhill. The top of the rucksack fell back slightly and Edward picked up his pack, held on to his trekking pole in one hand and "Hazel", as he had taken to calling the switch, in the other and made his final pre-flight inspection of his pack carrier.
"You still safely contained down there?" Smegward gave the front of my shorts the lightest of taps with Hazel. I nearly tripped as I jerked backwards with a yell of surprise. "Uh - uh - uh, no language, please. We'll discuss that later". I steadied myself. "Like I said, 'Is Willy still snug down there in his hammock?’" I just glared; he could make of that what he liked. "OK, suit yourself. Off you go".
I headed towards the unknown path before Hazel could speak to me again.
---=====0000000=====---
With the pack reducing my arm movements to complete insignificance, my progress was somewhat tentative to say the least and I experienced several, admittedly none too vicious, encounters with Hazel which were more humiliating than painful. Even so, I made little attempt to moderate my yelps until it became obvious that the resultant muffled sounds were nearly as embarrassing as being whipped like a gold prospector's donkey in the first place.
Soon the gradient became much less steep and Ed called another halt. He thought that, now the going would be less demanding, I might as well help him with his burden. I won't bother trying to convey to you the sounds I was making because they would probably make even less sense to you than they seemed to be making to my 'driver' at the time; just understand that our Gran would not have approved of the language.
Ed took out his tablet, fiddled with it, and put it to me that he could, "Just press this little 'send' button", or that I could just shut up and stand still. I must admit that my language did moderate slightly and I certainly stopped jerking around.
Ed undid the buckles of his day pack which was soon lodged under my chin and held in place by the shoulder straps while he forced the waist belt between the larger pack and my back. In spite of my lack of clothing, this was obviously going to be a very sweaty walk. Ed gave Hazel a quick swish but I took the hint before she could come into contact with my person.
The path was shaded by the trees on each side of it and the slope was still becoming more and more shallow as it zigzagged down the unfamiliar side of the hill. Laden as I was, I didn't mind having to walk further as long as the increased distance compensated for having to negotiate a steeper gradient. Then I saw the fence, the locked gate and that sign. That was why the path was so little frequented.
You don't often see a kissing gate onto what was obviously private land. But there it was. The sign said that the land was private and belonged to the Curmead Estate and that trespassers would be prosecuted. There was a padlocked five-bar gate that could have admitted a vehicle (as long as it was capable of negotiating the approaching paths), and a kissing gate alongside it. Ed pointed towards the smaller gate saying that at least it wasn't a style so I wouldn't have to climb over it. I didn't thank him for his consideration.
Anyone who has tried negotiating a kissing gate while bearing even a single pack will know that the easiest way is to remove the pack and lift it over the gate whilst squeezing through the aperture. Ed showed no signs of helping. Well, I suppose he did push the gate back for me. Some help! There was no way I was going to be able to force both myself and my burden between the swinging gate and the 'v' shaped surround. I looked at Ed with an expression that should have conveyed my feelings of deep love for him - either that or a mixture of confusion and defeat.
"Ok, Shrimp, don't say I never do anything for you. Up!" He held the gate with his left hand and pressed me against the surround with his right. "Go on, up!" He was obviously expecting me to climb onto the horizontal beams of the structure. He certainly needed all that strength wile I did it. My feet stood on the lowest beam and that just about left the packs clear of the top rails. I made sure to lean forwards because I certainly didn't want to fall backwards into the Estate lands. I thought at the time that it would surely have been much easier for Ed if he would just remove the packs but he seemed to be enjoying my attempts to make suggestions and the difficult position I was in.
I gradually worked my way sideways to the further component of the gate surround and Ed let me down again on the far side of the gate. "Phew, that took some effort; I think I'll go the easy way." The bastard pulled a key out of his pocket, unlocked the large gate, passed through it and locked the gate again.
"Ngoo ngaaf'uu'"
"I don't think so, Little Brother, Mum and Dad were married two years before I was born but I sometimes wonder whether you're adopted." My fury as I stood propped against the kissing gate was completely wasted. Ed just grinned once more as he scruffed my hair through that appalling bush hat. I was so incensed that it didn't even dawn on me that he shouldn't have had that key.
As I continued giving my brother the benefit of my opinion, he unlocked the end of the chain from my waist and hooked the padlock through the last link. I thought I would be wise to shut up. "Good decision." There was a pause. "Ready?"
"Khungh!"
"I'll take that as a 'Yes.'" I felt myself yanked away from the fence and Ed pulled away down the path, trailing me along behind him on the chain. That tuneless whistling noise resumed and I stumbled along as best I could. At least he wasn't behind me 'assisting' my progress with the end of that hazel branch. We must have continued along the winding Estate path for about half an hour until I caught sight of the lake, our obvious destination.
Of course I knew the lake was there from looking at maps but I also knew that that particular estate did not encourage anglers or visitors in general. I started to wonder what the landowner's reaction would be if we were caught. I was rather hoping that we would be, really; at least Smeggy Eddie wouldn't be able to blame that on me. It was then I started wondering about how he got hold of that key.