Part Eight

Oggin soldiered on for another fifty yards and then, ‘the squeak’ started. Intermittent at first, with no real rhythm to it, just a standard, annoying stressful sort of ‘squeak’. Oggin, a long time, hard core ‘tool man’ and ‘fixer’ decided to try and ignore it, for now. The “Squeak” of course knew this and went into full ‘on’ mode. Every step became a nerve shredding cacophony of metal on metal torture for Oggin, not only was the sack barrow getting harder to push on the soft ground but he feared his ear’s would start to bleed as well. He stopped and bent down to inspect the wheels and his trained ‘tool mans’ eye soon found the problem, it was a squeaky wheel axel, caused by a lack of anti-squeak stuff. Oggin stood and rubbed his beard with one hand as he thought this predicament through. The obvious solution was a drop of oil but his oil-can was at home, in his tool box and it would take too long to walk all the way there and back. He could try to carry the bale and leave the sack barrow where it was but that idea lost its appeal when he remembered just how heavy the bloody thing was. He decided he needed to sit down and give this some deeper consideration and turned to rest his backside on the bale. As he sat down he felt something in his back pocket, sticking uncomfortably into his bum cheek. He reached in and pulled out the small tin of Badger Grease he had been using only this morning. Shaking his head, Oggin stared at the tin for a moment and mumbling a curse against his ageing memory, stooped to the task at hand. Oggin used a bit of dry grass and a little twig to put some grease in the axel hole and then stood back to admire his handyman skills. In a cloud of self aggrandisement, of the sort known only to the true “Tool Man”, he returned the tin in his back pocket and gave it a smug sort of pat before setting off once more. The sack barrow was still just as hard to push as previously but now, minus the squeak. Oggin struggled on for another two hundred yards or so, pushing and pulling and sweating and swearing when he heard a tinkling girly laugh and giggle. His heart sank as he thought this would mean a visit from the Hasslesnag, the very last thing he needed right now.

He stopped, as much for a rest as anything and waited to see what the mischievous Imp had planned this time. The girly giggles grew louder and suddenly a very small child burst into view, running like the wind, followed by two more, also running and skipping. All were shoeless, slightly grubby and laughing fit to bust. A few seconds later four more children ran past, all giggling and skipping like loons, then Oggin heard a familiar voice.

“W’en I catch youse lot there’s gonna be some skelped arses roond here...!”

A panting and puffing Mammie came into view, she was dressed in her forth best tartan trews, with the holes in the knees and blue woollen vest and planted on her head was a grossly oversize tartan bonnet. As she ran, the bonnet the kept slipping down over her eyes and she struggled to get it back on her head again.

“Good morning Mammie....” said Oggin.

“Gan an’ feck your’sell Oggin....ya tumshie ya...!”

“Are those your children Mammie...?”

“Oh no Oggin...ah jus foond em....ya scunner...!” she replied sarcastically.

Oggin thought this might be truer than she knew. Mammie clamped the bonnet on her head once more and set off after the fleeing children, Oggin out called after her.

“Nice bonnet Mammie...nice bonnet...”

She called back over her shoulder,

“Feck off....ya baldy bawbag ye...Aye..an’ try pullin’ yon feckin’ barra...ye numtie...!”

As he watched her disappear, Oggin thought on what she said and even allowing for the fact she was a woman, so would have no practical experience or knowledge of sack barrows and large bales, she might have a point. Turning the barrow around, Oggin reached back and grasped the handles and set off. Surprisingly, it was undeniably easier than pushing, the wheels still stuck from time to time but it was a lot simpler to pull them out. After a couple of hundred yards he was feeling a lot less worn out and congratulating himself for coming up with the idea of pulling, instead of pushing. Then, just as he was settling into a smooth rhythm there was a ‘pop’ and a large puff of somewhat familiar smoke, The Stone Woman had arrived.

“Greetings to Thee....Oggin of the Ogg....I bring thee a dire warning from the Fairy Garden....’Never look a good horse in the ear’....!”

“Hello Gladys...what can I do for you...?” replied Oggin, in a ‘tired’ voice.

“I require nothing from thee...o’ man of Ogg...it is I that am the bringer of a gift....A boon most glorious, a godsend, a benefit, a fortunate thing....and for thee alone...”

“Right...........and.....?”

“Indeed...you are....For I alone have fashioned for thee a charm of great power....it employs the power of the trees and the power of the spirits....bound in the magic and cyclical circle of life itself.....!”

“......and.....?”

“...and what..?”

“Where is this great charm....?”

“Oh....yes....just a minute...”

The Stone Woman extended her empty hand and waved her wand over it, her eyes closed. Oggin watched as the top of the wand wobbled at the repaired part when all of a sudden there was a small puff of smoke around the extended hand and a ‘thunk’ as something fell on the ground and then the smoke cleared to reveal a still ‘empty’ hand.

“Oh...bugger....it missed...!” said the Stone Woman, bending to pick up the charm and blowing some dirt off it. Oggin recognised this “charm” straight away, it was the old broken wheel from the barrow. The busted spoke had been replaced with a stick and the iron rim was missing, someone had strung some white chicken bones and coloured beads on it but it was the same wheel, none the less. The Stone Woman handed it to Oggin with an air of reverence and a slight bow.

“Take this charm Oggin of the Ogg...May it protect you as you travel on life’s muddy path...it’s my way of saying ‘thank you’ for your kind donation of the bones...”

Oggin was just about to say something when the Stone Woman disappeared in a cloud of smoke, yet again. He tucked the charm under the rope on the top of the bale and shook his head slowly.

“I bet it doesn’t ward off that bloody Hasslesnag...” he said to himself, before continuing on his way.