Forever, A Curse On Arran's Children
(The story of the bear feet)
by Angus Shoor Caan
Genre: Horror/Supernatural
Swearwords: None.
Description: We all know not to upset the Gypsies. Let this serve as a warning to us all.
_____________________________________________________________________
Some curses appear to take, while others fail.
This curse on Arran is certain to prevail.
You can cross-reference with any medical records it is within your powers to access and the end result will always be the same. This particular curse has been proven to be true, and is in no way, shape or form one of those quaint tales handed down through folklore.
Shortly after the end of World War Two, the good people of Arran took up a collection to bring the travelling Gypsy circus to the island. They in fact raised enough to cover the costs of shipping and a three night performance by virtue of a sustained campaign to bring some quality entertainment to what many islanders felt to be both a forgotten and much neglected part of Scotland.
The ringmaster, one Knuckles Baxter, negotiated with the ferry company and was then able to have the vessel to himself and his entourage for a dawn crossing. He personally supervised the loading, making sure his performing animals were well ventilated and secured below decks, happy in the extreme to know the water was like a millpond, thus ensuring a smooth outward trip.
It was mid July, and warm with it. Only Karamba, the dancing Spanish Bear and the star turn of the circus, seemed upset at his temporary surroundings, and Knuckles was quick to send his trainer down to calm him.
Besides performing, the acrobats, clowns, trapezists, high wire walkers and all took on other roles in that they erected tents, drove vehicles and mucked out the animals to ensure the show came alive. On arrival at Brodick the road train wound its way to Lamlash Green and a site which had been hurriedly prepared to accommodate the spectacle.
Many islanders turned up to watch the big top take shape, making a day of it with packed lunches for all and crates of beer for the men. The circus was easily the biggest event to hit the island in many a long year and had caused quite a stir.
The first night was a rip-roaring success, with Karamba stealing the hearts and minds of his adoring audience with a fine display of almost balletic precision. He took the biggest cheer of the evening in his stride and bowed graciously to ever more applause.
Somewhere in the night, Karamba managed to escape his cage and was soon making the most of his new found freedom. There was no one to snap orders at him, no one to crack the whip, so he made his way into the village, he simply followed his nose.
The baker had pies out cooling in readiness for the day ahead and Karamba selected one of the apple variety, large, to take the edge off his hunger. The only other person about at that early hour was the butcher and, while going about his delivery to the baker’s premises, he was first to encounter Karamba. Hard to say which of them was most surprised, but the butcher was certainly the first to react, sadly, to Karamba’s cost. He ran the bear through with a large knife lest the creature should attack him and found his heart with the first blow. The baker and the butcher were the greatest of friends and so colluded to rid themselves of the evidence, knowing full well Karamba was easily the most popular inhabitant of the island, however temporary his stay was meant to be. Between them, the only part of the animal they couldn’t find a use for was his feet, and these were hidden in a thick hedgerow until such times as they could be buried properly or somehow destroyed.
The search covered the entire island of Arran and eventually Knuckles had to resign himself to the possibility Karamba had decided to swim for it. However, the handsome reward for any information provided still stood despite this assumption.
The baker’s pies never tasted better. The butcher and his wife dined on the finest of steaks for lunch and had enough minced meat in reserve to last them and theirs for a week or more.
No one really knows how twelve year old Sadie Kildonnan came into possession of the feet. It’s rumoured she didn’t want to get her collie into trouble for dragging them from under the hedge, but either way she wasn’t for telling. Sadie carefully placed the feet in an old infant’s carry-cot and made her way to Knuckles’ caravan, she had heard about the reward and was determined to collect.
Knuckles went absolutely berserk, understandably so. When the luminaries who had hired the circus couldn’t shed any light on the matter, he ordered his charges from the island, effective immediately.
The skipper of the ferry at first refused to comply with the ringmaster’s demands to have his boat made available for the exclusive use of the travellers, but Knuckles was in no mood to argue. He threw a curse upon the ferry and her crew and only retracted it when the skipper saw sense.
When all were aboard, Knuckles delivered yet another curse which was plainly heard by those who had gathered on Brodick harbour, his words brought a shiver to every single one of them.
“By the powers invested in me as leader of the Gypsies, I hereby lay this curse upon Arran and its people. I swear that every future child brought into this world on the island will be born with bare feet.”
Go and check the records. It simply can’t be denied.
Swearwords: None.
Description: We all know not to upset the Gypsies. Let this serve as a warning to us all.
_____________________________________________________________________
Some curses appear to take, while others fail.
This curse on Arran is certain to prevail.
You can cross-reference with any medical records it is within your powers to access and the end result will always be the same. This particular curse has been proven to be true, and is in no way, shape or form one of those quaint tales handed down through folklore.
Shortly after the end of World War Two, the good people of Arran took up a collection to bring the travelling Gypsy circus to the island. They in fact raised enough to cover the costs of shipping and a three night performance by virtue of a sustained campaign to bring some quality entertainment to what many islanders felt to be both a forgotten and much neglected part of Scotland.
The ringmaster, one Knuckles Baxter, negotiated with the ferry company and was then able to have the vessel to himself and his entourage for a dawn crossing. He personally supervised the loading, making sure his performing animals were well ventilated and secured below decks, happy in the extreme to know the water was like a millpond, thus ensuring a smooth outward trip.
It was mid July, and warm with it. Only Karamba, the dancing Spanish Bear and the star turn of the circus, seemed upset at his temporary surroundings, and Knuckles was quick to send his trainer down to calm him.
Besides performing, the acrobats, clowns, trapezists, high wire walkers and all took on other roles in that they erected tents, drove vehicles and mucked out the animals to ensure the show came alive. On arrival at Brodick the road train wound its way to Lamlash Green and a site which had been hurriedly prepared to accommodate the spectacle.
Many islanders turned up to watch the big top take shape, making a day of it with packed lunches for all and crates of beer for the men. The circus was easily the biggest event to hit the island in many a long year and had caused quite a stir.
The first night was a rip-roaring success, with Karamba stealing the hearts and minds of his adoring audience with a fine display of almost balletic precision. He took the biggest cheer of the evening in his stride and bowed graciously to ever more applause.
Somewhere in the night, Karamba managed to escape his cage and was soon making the most of his new found freedom. There was no one to snap orders at him, no one to crack the whip, so he made his way into the village, he simply followed his nose.
The baker had pies out cooling in readiness for the day ahead and Karamba selected one of the apple variety, large, to take the edge off his hunger. The only other person about at that early hour was the butcher and, while going about his delivery to the baker’s premises, he was first to encounter Karamba. Hard to say which of them was most surprised, but the butcher was certainly the first to react, sadly, to Karamba’s cost. He ran the bear through with a large knife lest the creature should attack him and found his heart with the first blow. The baker and the butcher were the greatest of friends and so colluded to rid themselves of the evidence, knowing full well Karamba was easily the most popular inhabitant of the island, however temporary his stay was meant to be. Between them, the only part of the animal they couldn’t find a use for was his feet, and these were hidden in a thick hedgerow until such times as they could be buried properly or somehow destroyed.
The search covered the entire island of Arran and eventually Knuckles had to resign himself to the possibility Karamba had decided to swim for it. However, the handsome reward for any information provided still stood despite this assumption.
The baker’s pies never tasted better. The butcher and his wife dined on the finest of steaks for lunch and had enough minced meat in reserve to last them and theirs for a week or more.
No one really knows how twelve year old Sadie Kildonnan came into possession of the feet. It’s rumoured she didn’t want to get her collie into trouble for dragging them from under the hedge, but either way she wasn’t for telling. Sadie carefully placed the feet in an old infant’s carry-cot and made her way to Knuckles’ caravan, she had heard about the reward and was determined to collect.
Knuckles went absolutely berserk, understandably so. When the luminaries who had hired the circus couldn’t shed any light on the matter, he ordered his charges from the island, effective immediately.
The skipper of the ferry at first refused to comply with the ringmaster’s demands to have his boat made available for the exclusive use of the travellers, but Knuckles was in no mood to argue. He threw a curse upon the ferry and her crew and only retracted it when the skipper saw sense.
When all were aboard, Knuckles delivered yet another curse which was plainly heard by those who had gathered on Brodick harbour, his words brought a shiver to every single one of them.
“By the powers invested in me as leader of the Gypsies, I hereby lay this curse upon Arran and its people. I swear that every future child brought into this world on the island will be born with bare feet.”
Go and check the records. It simply can’t be denied.
About the Author
Angus Shoor Caan is in his 50s, an ex-seaman and rail worker. Born and bred in sunny Saltcoats, he returned to Scotland after many years in England and found the time to begin writing. He is inspired by the Ayrshire coast and likes what he calls "real music". He also enjoys pool, snooker and is a big fan of rugby league side, Wigan Warriors. He has written several novels and one poetry collection and says that writing gives him "endless pleasure". His two ebooks can be viewed by clicking on the images below.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
Angus tells us that all his stories on McStorytellers have been inspired by the titles of songs written by Paul Kelly, who is often described as the poet laureate of Australia.
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