3^rd Saga

Part Four

May I begin with a few words about the Shed. Many of you will, I have no doubt, be familiar with the common or garden shed, some of you may even own one, or perhaps, even two. Your shed or lean-to will be mostly used to hoard odd garden stuff, old bikes, paint and even an eccentric husband. Most will be self-built and viewed as an outdoor storage-cum-hiding space. This however is not the case in Oggland, not at all.

Here the common shed has been somewhat elevated, to the status of small cottage or a dwelling place. Sheds of any description cannot simply be built or dismantled on a whim. Each village or hamlet has a group responsible for oversight of a shed and this “Nanning Assembly” calls most of the shots. This brings us to The Shed Master, he has the job of designing the size and shape of any shed or ‘shed like’ structure and overseeing its safe and compliant building. Once, many years ago, many Shed Masters wandered the country plying their trade and sheds, extensions and lean-to’s sprung up hither and yon. But after the Romans departed, in a huff, most of the Shed Masters left with them, for better paid jobs. So now, only one Shed Master remains, Giles Belann of Westex, The Shed Master General.

A Shed Master always travels with a companion or “Apprentice”, this apprentice is taken on to help out and most of them take over when the Shed Master gives up work or, as happened many times in the past, mysteriously dies suddenly. Titus Morley of Walland is Apprentice to Master Giles and has been since his boyhood, some sixty five years. This has left him a stunted and bitter little man, impatiently waiting for his Master to die and often, openly wishing him so.

Oggin sat and slowly finished his food, his mind, as always, was working over the day to come. By his reckoning it would take three or four days for The Shed Master to get to The Village. This should give him plenty of time to draw up plans for an extension and contact the members of the Nanning Assembly for approval, so no need to rush, he hated to rush. He picked up the last piece of greybread, popped it into his mouth and pushed his plate away with a flourish, leaned back and slapped his stomach with a sigh. After placing his plate in the sink he padded back to his room to change for the day ahead.

He emerged twenty minutes later wearing his third best work trousers, his second favourite wool shirt and a handkerchief wrapped around one hand. He was cursing under his breath and muttering foul threats to an un-named cat. Apparently, as he’d reached under the bed one of the creatures had lashed out from the darkness and left Oggin with a ‘calling card’ of deep bleeding scratches. He crossed to the sink and ran cold water on the cuts to clean them and then reapplied the kerchief, promising bloody retribution at a later date. Going outside the back door he found the sun indicated it was around mid-morning and the early mist had mostly burnt off, leaving the promise of a fine day to come. Birds twittered and squabbled in the trees and the ever busy Bees buzzed their way from flower to flower, in organized and frenzied anxiety. Oggin decided to walk the long way around to the Green and ambled off toward his back gate. From inside the shed at the rear of the garden he could hear Cyril, The Sleeping Man, moving around. He called out a greeting.

“Morning Cyril…”

“Fuck off Oggin….I is asleep you bastard…!” came the standard reply.

Oggin smiled to himself, any day was improved by a word or two from Cyril, as he was always in a worse mood than you.

Going through the back gate, Oggin started down the narrow hedged in path toward the village green. He stopped at the rear of The Mammie’s garden and peeped around the hedge, The Mammie was hanging out yet more washing and was surrounded by several slightly grubby children. Some of them pulled at her skirt, some played hide and seek around her legs and one was sitting eating some dirt. The Mammie seem oblivious to the noise and continued to peg out the clean clothes, including, Oggin noticed, a pair of men’s underpants. As The Mammie was unmarried, Oggin guessed the rumours about Ted, The Postman, must have some truth but dismissed it from his mind. After all, both were single, so it was nobody’s business but theirs, not that that would prevent the local women from idle gossip and passing comment. Oggin pressed on, the moss under his feet was soft and still cool and in a few minutes he reached the far end of the green. On the right he could make out Evan Evans, the Shepard, leaning on his crook, stroking a sheep’s head and talking to it. Over the far side Oggin could see Ted the Postman, sitting at the base of his post, apparently eating something from a paper bag. Evan suddenly noticed Oggin and abruptly stopped talking to the sheep and shooed it away in an embarrassed manner. He waved a greeting to Oggin, who waved back and spoke.

“Good morning Evan…nice day for it…”

“Mornin’ Oggin boyo…tis indeed…”

Oggin ambled on and had gone about half way when he was brought up short by a sudden puff of smoke, right in front of him, his heart sank, his shoulders dropped as he waited for the inevitable appearance of The Stone Woman.

Sure enough, the smoke cleared to reveal the tatty presence of Gladys, The Stone Woman. Her hair was dishevelled as usual and her wand drooped where it had been repaired yet again.

“Good Morrow Oggin of Oggland…I bring you a gift…a Boone…a reward…an offering…a little pressie…But first, I shall council thee with some wise and sound advice…”

Oggin steeled himself, this was the part he hated most.

“Oggin of the Ogg…I caution thee…Never play leap frog with real Frogs…for they are slimy and much given to cheating….”

As she spoke, she tried to wave her wand but only succeeded in making it bend even more till Oggin thought it was in danger, not for the first time, of breaking completely. As she appeared to have finished her ‘advice’ giving, Oggin spoke.

“Good Morning Gladys…it’s really nice to see you again…tell me, what is this “gift” you have for me today…?”

“Pardon…?”

“The Gift Gladys…you said you have a gift for me…?”

“A gift…? Oh yes…the gift…yes…”

She reached down the top of her dress and produced a folded piece of paper and with a flourish, handed it to Oggin.

“I give you, Oggin of the Ogg…Plans…on paper…drawn and measured and drawn…With lines and such. For verily, as a reward for your goodness and to speed its construction, I, that is to say, We, have brought you, Oggin of the Ogg, these plans…as you see…”

Oggin unfolded the paper and indeed, there was a plan drawn on it, a plan of an extension, an extension of his cottage. It was very finely drawn, almost beautiful in fact and at the bottom were the marks of the Nanning Assembly and strangely, the stamp of the Shed Master General as well. As Oggin took in the detail he forced his now open mouth to shut and swallowed hard, Gladys spoke again.

“The Shed Master General has been summoned and he and his apprentice will arrive shortly…so you may start construction this very day…worry not Oggin of the Ogg…all has been seen to…materials are already waiting for you in your cottage garden…Bob Weaver will assist you and provide lodging for the Shed Master while he is here. Bob and the two Bobs the elder will provide labour as well…all this has been done…”

“Right…” stammered Oggin, “all done…already…”

“Indeed Oggin of Ogg...it has already been done…already…We have combined our forces to ensure you may bring happiness to your Tosk woman….and as thanks for the help you have given us in seasons passed….Go now Oggin…meet the Shed Master as he arrives at the village post….”

As Oggin opened his mouth to speak another puff of smoke marked the departure of The Stone Woman and he found himself alone once more. A glance at Evan Evans and his sheep showed Oggin that as always, he was the only living soul to have even seen the fairy or her pyrotechnic display. In fact, only the piece of paper in his hands seemed to mark the events of the past few minutes.

Oggin glanced up to see a collection of figures had now gathered at the village post. Ted the postman was on his feet and seemed to be bowing to a very tall person in a red cloak, a smaller man stooped nearby, rubbing his hands and a little way off, a young girl stood watching, at her side a fawn and on her shoulder what looked like an Owl.

Oggin sighed one of his ‘post Gladys’ sighs and figured that as the fairy was involved things could only get more weird as the day went on, so with a slow shake of his head, he started toward the group.