Hannah and Gretchen
by Mark Henson
Part 3
Before continuing, please read PART ONE, followed by PART TWO, if you have not already!
Through the unusual sudden intensity of the red sky above, Hannah and Gretchen approached. Both the girls were now dressed in more casual clothing; Jim assumed their work shift at the Oldroyd Guest House must have ended for the day.
Cautiously he said to Andy, "Dontcha think it's time we were making a move? Remember what Rose said about staying away from her daughters."
“Let's not be too hasty,” answered Andy.
"Well if you will insist on getting your balls broken when we get back to the guest house."
“C'mon, old Rose is never gonna find out.”
Against his better judgement, Jim decided to stay around for a while longer. After all, in this situation, he felt like he had no choice.
As the two young ladies approached, the atmosphere seemed to mellow suddenly.
"May we join you, boys," asked Hannah.
“Sure; please do,” replied Jim, “my name's Jim Schroeder and this is my college friend Andy Wagner.”
“You're the two American lads, right?” said Gretchen.
“Last time I checked,” joked Andy, “since arriving in the UK, we've started using the letter 'u' more in our words; I guess that's where the confusion occurred.”
Gretchen giggled at the joke.
“You're both named Hannah and Gretchen, right?” inquired Jim.
“Spot on,” responded Gretchen.
“I was wondering if you girls are of German descent; kinda like us having ancestors who migrated?”
“Yep, are surnames mean 'wagon maker' and 'tailor', apparently,” butted in Andy.
Jim gave Andy a quick stern look, “As Gretchen sounds like an uncommon name for these parts.”
“Yes, it is rather an uncommon girl's name around here,” said Gretchen, “but we don't have German ancestors; I just think that my mum was looking for a first name which sounded rather exotic.”
The boys were starting to look and feel a little awkward, expecially Jim.
"You know why this Inn is called the 'Rat Catcher's Retreat?' casually said, Gretchen.
“No; why?” asked Andy.
"Because the rats living in the cellar, have a tendency to crap into the ale barrels."
Andy spat out a mouthful of ale.
“Relax, I'm just joking with you.”
"It must be pretty isolated living in this village," asked Jim, disparately trying to think of something to say.
"Well; we have a good number of fascinating people visiting the guest house, but they have a tenancy to disappear after a short while," informed Hannah.
“You've always got Pete Meadowkin, to keep you entertained.”
"Ah; you've met old Pete, then. He's harmless enough, but I think that he's losing it a bit these days. Best not to believe anything he says."
“We were wondering if Pete was the local werewolf,” joked Andy.
The girls both laughed.
“Yes, we've seen that movie too,” joked Hannah.
Jim was really struggling to keep the conversation going and he saw that Andy was now resorting to lame jokes in a most embarrassing fashion. Trying to make a polite exit from the Inn's garden, Jim said, “Erm; to be honest your mum kinda told us to avoid socialising with you two ladies. I mean; I'm sure that she's just looking out for your well-being and..."
“...and what indeed,” answered Hannah, “Ah, forget that warning; our mum gives the same speech to all the young lads who stay at our guest house.”
“And to some of the ladies,” said Gretchen, in a matter of fact way.
An astonished Andy spat out some of the ale he was currently drinking.
“She's just joking with you,” said Hannah.
“Am I?” retorted Gretchen.
"Seeing as it's your first evening here, why don't I get a fresh round of drinks in, then we can chat some more about the local village and its folklore. The real stuff, not the stories that old Pete Meadowkin cons the gullible punters with," offered Hannah.
“Okay, but please let me buy the drinks,” offered Jim.
"I don't go in for all that chivalry malarky," said Hannah, "you lads both just sit there."
“Hey, the benefits of feminism,” joked Andy.
As the girls walked back to the Inn; Jim found himself giving Andy another elbow in the ribs, and just wished that Andy would keep his thoughts to himself for once.
“Is old Pete the local werewolf? - That's the most cringeworthy joke I've ever heard you crack.”
“I was just trying to keep the conversation going; one of us had to and besides it's better than watching your own pathetic display of trying to weasel back to the guest house.”
"I'm just trying to prevent us being evicted tonight unless you fancy having to beg for a room here at the 'Rat Catcher's Retreat', which by the look of things is probably already full. Plus, it's getting close to the end of our trip around the UK and we're starting to get kinda low on money too."
“Okay, I get your point; I'll try and behave.”
A few uncomfortable moments of silence passed between the boys before the girls emerged from out of the Inn's doorway. The walked back down to the wooden table and placed a tray containing four more pints of the finest ale on to the table.
“Don't you worry, these pint's are rat crap free,” giggled Gretchen.
Andy gave an awkward smile at the joke, for the first time in his life he had started to lose his sense of humour. Much to the welcome relief of Jim.
Hannah handed the boys two of the traditionally styled glasses of ale, which they both started to slowly drink. She handed the third glass to Gretchen and picked up the remaining glass to take a gentle sip.
“So you wanted to know about the real history of this area then,” enquired Hannah.
“Well; why not,” replied Jim.
"Are you interested more in solid historical facts or folklore."
"Well, folklore sounds fascinating. In fact, we're doing research into British history, especially your folklore for our college degree. That's one of the advantages of our visit here."
"Just so long as these facts are not made up, eh," butted in Andy.
“Andy!”
"No problem," assured Hannah, "whatever I say can always be verified at the local libraries and online. So where would you like me to start; if you are interested in werewolves I can tell you about the parallels with the ancient dog-headed people legends. Plus, this area is rife with tales of hell hounds. A little further south from here, there are a few good stories of large ape like primates, sometimes referred to as Woodwose, many people believe that this race of creatures could, in fact, form the missing link."
"The Woodwose have even been known to interbreed with the local people," said Gretchen, before admitting, "actually, I am joking now."
Hannah resorted to giving Gretchen a quick elbow in the ribs. A similarity of behaviour which made Jim smile. Andy continued to look displeased.
As the talk went on, Jim found himself starting to feel a little sleepy and nodded off for a few moments. Quickly waking back up with an embarrassed expression on his face, he was now being greeted to the sight of a petty argument taking place.
“Actually no; the tales surrounding Whitby were pure fiction, made up by Bram Stoker,” said Hannah, who had obviously just got on the wrong side of Andy.
"It would be helpful if we could hear some tales of local witchcraft, I believe this area has plenty of history when it comes to this kind of thing," interjected Jim, desperately trying to change the situation.
“Yep, Jim loves witches and wizards, as he's well into Harry Potter stories,” rudely said Andy.
"Hey Andy, you promised to try and be civil, just this once," reprimanded Jim.
A feeling of drowsiness came over Jim again, but he managed to fight it off once more. Andy was really not looking his usual alert self either. Andy suddenly slumped over, his limp body sprawled across the wooden table.
"Speaking of witches; as a matter of fact, you have just been poisoned by two of them," said Hannah.
Those words of Hannah's were the last thing Jim heard before he finally fully passed out.
To be continued...
