|
|
|
|
|
|
Amazon.com, 
Amazon.co.uk, 
Amazon.de or 
Amazon.ca
|
 The Hex and the Bronze  (6 ratings)by A.C. Englebert Page 1 of 2 It was an extremely cold everning in the town of Corinth Falls, with a blustery wind that seemed to blow the hanging mist right through one's clothing. I'd made my way out into the dank weather to pay visit to my favourite book shop, only a block or so from the bus station from which I'd arrived, only to find it closed until the following week. Extremely disappointed, I cursed the weather (and even the shop owner, although under my breath!), and drew my scarf tighter around my neck to help fend off the pervading cold. Checking my watch against the scheduling, I found that the next bus outbound to my home of Dorset, wasn't due to leave for another three hours... confound my luck. The cold was really cutting through me by this point, so I decided to venture a little further into the town of my birth and perhaps have a drink if time allowed. The ancient town of Corinth Falls was extremely touching to the eye. One couldn't help but feel as if he'd stepped through the portals of time once crossing into the village limits. The Victorian architecture was breathtaking, and the shops looked as though someone had plucked them straight from a painting. Though I remembered only a few of the shops from my boyhood, I felt a natural pull to the place... it was odd in a way, but I always felt at home upon my return. My parents, upper-middle class folks, had lived in Corinth Falls until my father's strange disapperance was followed by my mother moving to live with her sister in North Carolina, and disappearing herself shortly thereafter. It was quite hard to swallow, for my parents and I had been very close, and my brother and I often re-united to visit the town that seemed to have swallowed my parents up. After making rounds to some of my favourite sites and landmarks, I checked my watch again and found that the bus would be arriving shortly, so I began to make my way toward the depot. Although I longed to stay a bit longer, the cold and icy wind gusts had become next to unbearable, and I was looking forward to a nice hot shower and toasty warm bedding. I took my usual shortcut through one of the main street's alleys, and was rushing along hurridley as not to miss my departure, when I noticed something rather strange. Near the back of the alley, nestled in the rear of an old shop of some sort, was a great, bronze door that seemed to glint so brightly one would think the sun had chosen only it to shine on and nothing more. Thinking that very peculiar, I slowed to a walk, and decided to investigate... and besides, there would be other buses departing for Dorset if I missed this one. The door itsself was an outstanding work... a blinding rectangle of radiance that almost mirrored one's image! And beside it was a sign that read: Hex and Bronze Public House est. 1784. Now this seemed odd given that I'd lived in Corinth Falls as a boy for nineteen years, knowing every in and out of the town, yet, I'd never noticed the establishment before. A shame, I thought, that my father wasn't still living to be queried about it. My curiousity overtook me, and I pulled the handle of the heavy door... I found inside an impressive pub to say the least, although dimly lit, and void of any other patrons. I stepped up to the exquisite oaken bar, hand carved with all sort of what appeared to be sigils of some origin which I couldn't readily identify, and surveyed the rest of the pub. The walls were lined with many shelves upon which stood many figurines which were also of a bronzed tint... hence the name of the pub, I ascertained by this point. I couldn't resist taking a closer look at the figures inhabiting the numerous shelves, and aside from that, I still hadn't seen hide nor hair of a bartender, so I ambled over to one of the walls to satisfy my curiousity. I found the figurines incredible to look upon... there were men and women from almost every age imaginable! And all so intricately formed they were! Each one looked as if they could speak to me if only they were as lively as they seemed! There was a lady of the revolutionary era clad in bonnett and waistcoat, a soldier in WWI ga rb, a young man of the Victorian era... and what must have been hundreds more, each from a different period or trade. I was remarking out loud to myself how incredible it all seemed when suddenly there appeared a friendly, round face inches from mine. "Beautiful, aren't they?", the man's deep, booming voice made me jump to my senses. "Oh, yes... they're quite magnificent", I said as I inspected what was apparently a blacksmith from some age long forgotten. "Yes, they're the proprietor's," he continued, "he must have over two hundred of 'em... I should know, I dust them often enough. Mr. Humboldt is very particular about how they're kept, y'know". "Mr. Humboldt?", I questioned, "that's funny, for I lived here the majority of life, and I don't recall any Humboldts in the area... nor this pub for that matter... it was established elsewhere I assume?" The man shook his head and with a hearty laugh said, "No son, it's always been here I'm afraid... perhaps you didn't notice it in your younger days. As for Mr. Humboldt, well, that's quite another story... Would you like a drink now sir?" I affirmed and made my way to the bar. The bartender smiled and poured a nice stout for me as I sat down, intrigued by the oddity of the place. "It's our own," he said proudly, "Mr. Humboldt began brewing in the late 1700's... same recipe we use today in what you're drinking right now!" Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 A.C. Englebert, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines. |
Copyright © 1999 - 2004 sffworld.com