Alan Garner: Boneland (Unabridged)
Boneland
'Colin. Colin?'
He woke, drank, blew a fire heap, ate meat…
Risselty-rosselty, hey pomposity…
So the day shrank and night stretched.
Colin locked his bicycle at the Health Centre and span…
Colin built momentum to above Beacon Lodge…
He stood, smashed the tumbler on the marble and fell…
He lay for one day.
He took moss and blew a brand at the fire heap…
'Hello. This is Colin Whisterfield.'
'Oh, heck,' said Meg.
They went from the library to the corridor.
Bert was prompt.
Colin rolled the empty oil drum along the floor of the quarry…
'The results came through yesterday…'
They came to a room that was a clutter of computers…
Then he came to the age where he could not run.
He had found the woman.
'Why am I scared of you?'
When his legs could walk and his hands could hold…
'Hi,' said Meg. 'Am I too early?'
A path with steps came between Castle Rock and the overhang.
The hut sat in a corner…
The adit was straight…
They sat in silence, watching the fire.
She would come.
The wild weathers of the world passed…
Colin crouched in the chair…
'Hi, Colin. Sit down.'
When at last he came to the lodge he blew a fire…
'Hi, Colin. Come in. Sit down.'
He wrapped the stone and the blades in a skin of birch…
'Hi, Colin,' said Owen. 'How's your mother's rag arm?'
He woke. The sky was above and the world swayed under him.
Colin rang the doorbell.
Colin went wide round the table and sat in the chair…
Colin stared at the profile of the stone.
Colin heard the sound of an engine in the quarry…
Colin turned his head aside.
He pushed himself up.
'I have a story,' he said.
Colin ran his bicycle through the quarry…
'I have a story.' 'Tell me your Story,' said the other.
I sang and danced…
