This morning that all changed. As Thrumps sipped at his second cup of coffee, pondering just why he was wide awake at such an early hour, a blast from the past softly landed on the doormat. He stared at it, expecting it to disappear, but it didn’t.
He went for a better look. This was too strange not to be some kind of trap, or deception but it appeared genuine, well sort of. The writing on the front boasted, Postcard from HELL … wish you were here and ended with a question mark looking for all the world as if it were smouldering. Carefully he tried to flip it over with his foot. It wouldn’t budge. Holding his breath, he picked it up, expecting it to be hot, but it wasn’t, and it certainly didn’t look like the proverbial image that was to be expected. It actually looked rather inviting, a typical tropical island, immaculate white-sand beaches with crystal clear turquoise waters. The postscript at the bottom read Cayman Islands.
Thrumps turned it over.
Dear Professor Thrumpas,
I know that you don’t know me, but I know you, well sort of and anyway I can’t think of anyone else that could possibly GET ME OUT OF HERE!!
Alice.
PS: Please meet me in Hell.
She was right, he didn’t know an Alice, let alone one that needed to be freed from the underworld. He reached for his coffee only to find it had been replaced by an ice-cold metal drinks bottle. The Book of Un-Reality flipped open.
Visiting Hell in Grand Cayman
The largest island in the Cayman Islands has all the qualities typical of the area, but Hell was created by salt and lime deposits millions of years ago when chemicals interacted with attacking algae and created the spiky black formations.
Thrumps noticed the dull hum as the air conditioning, which he didn’t know he had, kicked itself into life and he realised that he was sweating. He didn’t need to be told where he was. Clicking his fingers he was instantly attired in a white linen suit complete with a wide brimmed straw boater. Better he thought but he was not too sure on the open sandals, wondering if there were creatures out there that might just take a fancy to his bare toes.
The heat suffocated him as he stepped out. The Emporium doors automatically slammed shut and barred themselves with a cross of wood, as if protecting against unknown evil. He took a deep breath, well actually a very shallow one as it was too difficult to do anything else and set off down the dirt track. The scrubby forest soon gave way to lush greenery and finally a main road. There were no signs but he instinctively knew he had to turn left. His destination was just a few paces along the aptly named Hell Road.
It was quiet, maybe too quiet but what did he know. Apparently when the cruise ships call, as they do in their multitudes it was unbearable chaos, but for now there were just a few people kicking about, mostly around the petrol station. As soon as she spotted him, she waved, it was too hot to run or he rather suspected she would have done just that, she looked so delighted that he was there. No he corrected himself, she looked relieved.
He tentatively extended one hand, she ignored it and gave him a big hug. When they finally parted, she just blurted the whole story out in such a jumbled mess that he had to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” she panted. “But you really do have no idea how pleased I am to see you.”
He smiled, took her hand and gestured to the gift shop.
“Is there perchance a café?”
She shook her head. “Good job you have a flask.” He nodded.
“Let’s go sit on the picnic benches in the shade and you can start all that again … slowly.”
She smiled.
“Ever baited a fallen angel?” she asked. Thrumps hadn’t.
“It’s not a good idea,” she said earnestly.
“I was kind of messing about, you know as you do at Halloween and well what we expected was a bit of light conversation with a ghost or at the very least a disgruntled spirit, but …” she paused trying hard to frame things in a more favourable light. “But … what we got was a kind of warlock, a very pissed off one at that. The others legged it but somehow, I was kind of trapped with my finger firmly welded to the glass on the board. Message after message spelt out curse upon curse until it finally realised that I was far from the great mystical communicator that he’d taken me for.” She shook her head. “That was his first mistake, I mean thinking that just because I’m not that good at all the witchcraft stuff, and that I was a push-over. What he wanted was for me to give him free reign to walk the earth regardless of the time of year, well I tell you even if I’d been able to have done it, I wouldn’t, I mean that’s just not right, he was, well just not very nice.”
Thrumps took another sip of water, grateful that The Emporium magic was holding fast and replenishing his bottle regularly. He nodded for her to go on.
“Well, he let up a bit and I screamed at him to go to hell.” She looked around. “And that’s what we did, the both of us. We came to Hell.”
“The warlock is here as well?” Thrumps asked.
“Yeah, didn’t I say that?”
He nervously looked about him.
“Don’t worry he’s not here, not yet but he will be as soon as the tourists start coming. He walks about dressed as the devil and greets people with How the hell are you? They all think it’s hilarious but what he’s really doing is casting for a likely victim, me to transport him … well I don’t know where do I. It’s not as if we sit and have cosy chats or anything is it. If he’s here, then I make sure I’m not.” She folded her arms as if expecting Thrumps to argue. He didn’t.
“So, he’s stuck here, looking for you.” Alice nodded.
“You need a rabbit hole.”
“A what?”
It was clear she was not a bookworm.
“A way out that he cannot follow.” That she agreed with.
“His immortal charms don’t work here,” she said.
“Which is why he cannot leave on his own.” Thrumps was beginning to understand, well a little anyway.
“Sooo, Prof are you going to be my saviour?”
He wasn’t sure, but to stand any chance they needed to get back inside The Emporium.
“How hot is hell?” said a strange voice behind them.
“It can be 90+ degrees in the summer. Okay, that’s not fire-and-brimstone, but enough to make you plead-for-mercy and to get away from the heat.” It continued without waiting for a reply.
A man dressed head-to-toe in a red bodysuit, hung his forked tail over his arm and slid himself down next to Alice.
“Found you!” He breathed hotly.
Now, sometimes fortune is on your side, not often maybe but it was in this instance. The carpark was suddenly inundated with coach after coach, each spilling its load of eager people desperate for that one photo that they could dine out on for years, and the sight of a real devil just sitting there was obviously too good an opportunity to miss out on.
“I hate tourists,” he hissed as they crowded around, each jostling for the best shot. Thrumps surreptitiously took Alice by the hand and lead her away from the melee.
“Shhh …” He put his finger to his lips. If they were missed it would not be until much later.
Once safely on the road back to where Thrumps hoped The Emporium would still be Alice relaxed, a little.
“Do you know why they call this place Hell” she asked quietly.
Thrumps didn’t.
“It’s the eerie and rather sinister look what gave it its infamous name.” She had obviously looked into this, she sounded like a tour guide. Maybe that’s how she got by Thrumps mused.
“If a pebble is thrown out into the formation,” she continued. “… it echoes among the limestone peaks and valleys and sounds as if the pebble is falling all the way down to … well Hell."
He smiled, not only because she did but more importantly because right at the end of the dirt track The Emporium stood, almost hidden in the undergrowth.
Once sitting in the comfort of his favourite chair he asked Alice how she knew what to do.
“It’s a popular activity here to send a postcard marked from Hell.” She grinned. “So thought it was worth a go.”
Well he didn’t know how it worked but it did. The warlock was still stuck in Hell and she was safe.
What he didn’t know thought was how she knew where to send it to.