Jacky Traneer wasn't the most sober of individuals, nor was he the most charitable.
When he appeared in the local Inn he was usually asking for a handout and always looking for a drink.
His mean behaviour was barely tolerated by those in the village and many were of the opinion that his little makeshift home on the moor outside of Zennor was the best place for him.
"Kep 'em away from us" was all that some say about him.
Any thought of him being alone or lonely soon evaporated when his behaviour, attitude and lack of personal hygiene were considered.
"He gets what 'ee deserves" was the attitude many had about him.
Most nights would find Jacky lurking around the village inn, spending what money he had on beer and liquor. What he couldn't pay for, he would beg for. When peoples charity ran out or the Landlord felt his behaviour could no longer be tolerated, he was ejected from the inn no matter what the weather to make his way back across the moors.
It was Kalan Gwav and the people were celebrating the last harvest. There was merriment in the village and the locals were feeling more charitable by nature. Jacky was taking more than his fair share of hospitality. As the ale flowed and moods of others became joyous. Jacky took advantage by taking what he could reach and stealing what was left unguarded.
When he left the Inn the stars were dancing in the inky sky and the air was cold and crisp.
Jacky started on his way home. As he walked across the moor, he noted in the distance two dim lights.
At first Jacky ignored them.
But the more he looked the more he realised that they were coming towards him. Small, yellow eyes.
"A beast" Jacky thought...
A wind started to blow from the sea, a wind which moved and twisted the heather.
As Jacky watched he recognised that the lights were getting closer and closer.
When he appeared in the local Inn he was usually asking for a handout and always looking for a drink.
His mean behaviour was barely tolerated by those in the village and many were of the opinion that his little makeshift home on the moor outside of Zennor was the best place for him.
"Kep 'em away from us" was all that some say about him.
Any thought of him being alone or lonely soon evaporated when his behaviour, attitude and lack of personal hygiene were considered.
"He gets what 'ee deserves" was the attitude many had about him.
Most nights would find Jacky lurking around the village inn, spending what money he had on beer and liquor. What he couldn't pay for, he would beg for. When peoples charity ran out or the Landlord felt his behaviour could no longer be tolerated, he was ejected from the inn no matter what the weather to make his way back across the moors.
It was Kalan Gwav and the people were celebrating the last harvest. There was merriment in the village and the locals were feeling more charitable by nature. Jacky was taking more than his fair share of hospitality. As the ale flowed and moods of others became joyous. Jacky took advantage by taking what he could reach and stealing what was left unguarded.
When he left the Inn the stars were dancing in the inky sky and the air was cold and crisp.
Jacky started on his way home. As he walked across the moor, he noted in the distance two dim lights.
At first Jacky ignored them.
But the more he looked the more he realised that they were coming towards him. Small, yellow eyes.
"A beast" Jacky thought...
A wind started to blow from the sea, a wind which moved and twisted the heather.
As Jacky watched he recognised that the lights were getting closer and closer.
A 'beast', no a 'demon' he said to himself.
Fear rose in his throat as the eyes got closer and closer.
Jacky fell into a ditch and rolled in the mud.
The eyes were getting closer and closer and Jacky imagined the face of the demon; the face of Satan himself.
In is half drunk half fear-ridded stupor Jacky begged and pleaded believing that the Devil had come to collect his wicked soul.
The eyes. the fire-filled eyes were upon him.
Jacky prayed as he had never prayed before; atoning for the sins he knew had committed and many more he imagined he could. It was harvest, the years end and he was about to reap what he had sowed.
The eyes were now fixed upon him, close, he felt the heat.
He heard voices, not a single voice, but a collection of voices all moaning and whispering his name.
Jacky could bear no more, his heart was racing, his breath was rapid and slow. Then in the shadow he notice that the eyes were set in a small turnip head; that the turnip head was suspended from a string; that the string was attached to a pole; that the pole was held to some village youths.
They laughed out loud , pleased with there jape. But Jackys mind was racing. He was thinking about how Satan would have welcomed his dark soul and made the choice that from that moment he would sow seeds worthy of who he could be and who he wanted to be.
The next morning he was up and dressed really early. He washed, tidied his hair, put on his cleanest old clothes and made his way to the village.
He went out of his way to greet and meet people; to offer his help and support; to be the person he knew he could be.
Fear rose in his throat as the eyes got closer and closer.
Jacky fell into a ditch and rolled in the mud.
The eyes were getting closer and closer and Jacky imagined the face of the demon; the face of Satan himself.
In is half drunk half fear-ridded stupor Jacky begged and pleaded believing that the Devil had come to collect his wicked soul.
The eyes. the fire-filled eyes were upon him.
Jacky prayed as he had never prayed before; atoning for the sins he knew had committed and many more he imagined he could. It was harvest, the years end and he was about to reap what he had sowed.
The eyes were now fixed upon him, close, he felt the heat.
He heard voices, not a single voice, but a collection of voices all moaning and whispering his name.
Jacky could bear no more, his heart was racing, his breath was rapid and slow. Then in the shadow he notice that the eyes were set in a small turnip head; that the turnip head was suspended from a string; that the string was attached to a pole; that the pole was held to some village youths.
They laughed out loud , pleased with there jape. But Jackys mind was racing. He was thinking about how Satan would have welcomed his dark soul and made the choice that from that moment he would sow seeds worthy of who he could be and who he wanted to be.
The next morning he was up and dressed really early. He washed, tidied his hair, put on his cleanest old clothes and made his way to the village.
He went out of his way to greet and meet people; to offer his help and support; to be the person he knew he could be.
Sometimes we need a wake-up call to inspire us to be the person we want to be; to sow better seeds to reap richer rewards for our self and others,
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Acorn Theatre, 6th December 2019 For those living or near Penzance, you might like this as part of your pre Christmas Events.
An interactive and mind opening experience featuring demonstrations of mind reading, suggestion and psychological illusions
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