Archived Document & Notes #20091207-LO - A Strange Day in July

RECORD #20091207-LO
TYPE: ARCHIVED DOCUMENT: CIVILIAN REPORT & NOTES
RELATED PERSON(S)/ENTITY(S): Ernest Killingsworth, Branch Record-Keeper (EK), Charles/Charlie Netter, Branch Architect (CN), Thomas Skinner, Former Branch Record-Keeper (TS), Vincent Howard Finch, civilian (VHF), Phoebe Victoria Finch, civilian (PVF), Isabella Smart-Finch, civilian (ISF)
(RECORDING BEGINS)
(Sounds of a creaky door opening, footsteps on a wooden floor)
(CN) Hey, Ernest? You’re on tape.
(EK) Oh, yeah. Hi, Charlie. Just reviewing the field report from Karla… she just got back from visiting Voltaire. Seems he’s doing alright, all things considered.
(CN) That’s good news, if not expected. Would you mind digitising this old civilian report for me? It’s routine stuff, got to go keep our records straight and up-to-date as recordings just in case of a Scripture event.
(EK) Oh? Sure, I can do that.
(CN) Thanks. This one's pretty old, from 1979.
(Sound of paper hitting a desk; heavy enough to make some noise)
(EK) That's thick.
(CN) Yeah, Skinner was kinda obsessed with this one. It took place near his home village, and it’s Skinner, so I can kinda understand… but still, even he went overkill on this one. Thanks, Killings!
(Sounds of footsteps on wood and the creaky door)
(EK) Ah, let's see here… huh, Mr. Skinner even gave it a name. A Strange Day in July. Well, that matches up with the date on the file… no recordings attached, just a transcript. Alright, let's get this over with.
*clears throat*
This is Ernest Killingsworth, Record-Keeper of the London Branch of the Chatter & Melody Society. I am recording an archived civilian report from 16th of July in 1979, made by my predecessor Thomas Skinner. Reporters are all civilians; one Vincent Howard Finch and one Phoebe Victoria Finch, twin siblings aged 7, and one Isabelle Smart-Finch, mother of the above, aged 33. Report concerns a daytime outing at the local pond and what transpired there. Current date is 7th December, 2009. Report begins with Ms. Smart-Finch’s account.
*inhale*
(ISF) So, we live out in Colchester. My husband died in a driving accident, and I’ve been doing my best to raise Vince and Phoebe. They’re great kids, of course! I love them dearly, but sometimes, I just get tired, y’know, cause it isn’t always easy to be a single mother.
Yesterday, we went out to a little pond near our home to have a picnic and play in the water. We’ve got a dog, a shepherd mix of some sort from the local rescue. Vince and Phoebe named him Biscuit. So we’re out on the grass with a blanket eating the sausage rolls I had brought, and everything was normal. Then Vince told me that he wanted to skip stones on the pond. I used to do that when I was a kid, so I went to the water’s edge with him. Phoebe wanted no part of it and sat with Biscuit on the blanket.
So I pick up a round stone and skip it. Not very well mind you, only made it four times before sinking. Then Vince tried it; he skipped it five times before it disappeared into some waterweeds. I go to pick up another, and suddenly the stone comes skipping back. I reckoned that some other kid was hiding in the waterweeds, and that they were having some harmless fun. Then Vince skipped another into the waterweeds, and I watched as it came skipping back. At that point, Vince was looking quite puzzled; of course, I was too. And so I told him, “Maybe if you throw it really, really hard, it won’t come back.” And so he did, winding up his arm like an American baseball player. But it came skipping back.
I honestly don’t have much more to say. I took them home after that, and nothing’s happened since.
*exhale*
(EK) End of Ms. Smart-Finch’s account. Loyal skipping stones are certainly not normal, but I can’t quite think of something that would go out of their way to do such a simple thing. Let’s see, next is Vincent’s account.
*inhale*
(VHF) Oh, hasn’t Momma already told you what happened?
(TS) Yes, but we’d like you to tell us what happened as well. See, adults can sometimes not see what kids like you see, because we are almost always worrying and looking about at a taller height as well. You’ve probably seen your momma be worried before, right?
(VHF) Oh, yes! Momma gets worried sometimes when we get mail, or when she’s making supper, or when she’s dropping me and Phoebe off at school. But you say she could be worried more often?
(TS) Yes. See, being an adult is hard, and hard things make people worry. That’s why I’d like to hear what happened from you.
(VHF) Oh, okay!
Momma and Phoebe and Biscuit and me were all out at the rock-pond and we were having a picnic. Momma had brought sausage rolls, and tangerine oranges, and lemonade, and dog biscuits for Biscuit too, and we ate and played in the grass together. But then I wanted to skip stones on the lake because Momma had once showed me how to skip stones. And so me and Momma went to the edge of the rock-pond and Momma picked up a stone. She skipped it really good! It looked like a deer jumping over the water. But then it sank. And so I picked up a stone, and I skipped it towards some weeds that were growing in the pond and it went into the weeds and disappeared.
And then Momma picked up another stone, but the stone I had skipped was coming back, hopping like a deer! I never have seen something like that! And then the stone landed at my feet. And then I grabbed the stone from Momma’s hand and skipped it towards the weeds again, and it came skipping back again too! I thought that was both really weird and really cool, because I had never seen a rock skip back towards me! And so I looked at Momma to see if she thought it was cool, and then she said that if I threw the next one really, really hard, it wouldn’t come back. And so I threw then next stone extra hard, like the American baseball throwers on TV! But it still came skipping back, all jumpy like a deer. And then Momma said it was getting late, and the sun was coming down, and so me and Momma and Phoebe and Biscuit got our things and went home.
That’s what happened yesterday at the rock-pond. Was that good, Mister Skinner?
(TS) Yes, that was very good, Vincent. Thank you.
(VHF) You’re welcome, Mister Skinner!
*exhale*
(EK) Well, nothing seems very different between Vincent and Isabella’s accounts. The only notable thing is the former’s referring to the skipping stones as ‘jumping like a deer’. But there’s no way this is some lost satyr or faun, and most of the deer-spirits live much further north. I mean, it could be some tricksy witch or druid or something, but what sort of coven or circle decides to mess with one family’s kid in known Society territory? For kicks?
Oh, got a bit off track there… maybe Skinner left behind more than just his obsessions. Uh, let’s do Phoebe’s account.
*inhale*
(PVF) So I’m last?
(TS) Yes. Your mother wanted to go first, and Vincent insisted on going second, so here we are. Please, go ahead.
(PVF) Okay.
When me and Momma and Vincent and Biscuit went out to the rock-pond, I was feeling tired. I dunno why, but I’ve felt tired before. I got a little less tired after eating the sausage rolls and tangerine oranges and drinking some lemonade, but when Vince asked me if I wanted to skip, I told him no, I was tired. And so I sat with Biscuit and fed him bits of sausage and dog biscuits as Momma and Vince skipped stones. But, I think I remember Biscuit looking at something in the weeds in the pond. He does that a lot, looking at birds and squirrels and other dogs and people, so I didn’t pay attention to him. I just kept feeding him bits of sausage.
But then Biscuit got up and was looking very hard at the weeds in the pond, and so I looked very hard at them too. And I saw something in the weeds! It looked very odd, like a snake with fish-fins and a belt around its mouth and a great big sword was sticking out of the belt, but it wasn’t very big, certainly not as big as Biscuit! And so we sat there, looking very hard at the snake with the fish-fins until Momma said it was time to go home. That’s what happened yesterday!
(TS) Thank you, Phoebe.
(PVF) You’re welcome, Mister Skinner.
*exhale*
(EK) Well then. A water-spirit, shaped like a snake with fish-fins whose mouth is belted shut with a sword that isn’t very big. I guess I got my explanation. But it seems like a weird hybrid of several old English water-spirits: the Bomere Fish for the sword-belt, knuckers for the dragon-shape, nixies for the whole messing-with-children thing, faeries in general… well, I guess I’ll do some follow up after I finish off this digitisation. Ernest Killingsworth, current Record-Keeper of the London Branch of the Chatter & Melody Society, is signing off.
(RECORD ENDS)