The Tale of the Edinborough Street
My shopping was over and I started returning home on my bicycle. It had a front basket in which I kept all my groceries. The night had slowly crept in from the dusk when I started my shopping.
I had to cross the Edinborough street adjoined by apple orchards, shrubs, eucalyptus trees and dense hedges. This route was my shortest route to reach my home. I had journeyed across this route several times in the past.
The full moon was shining its satin glow with full intensity. The street was filled with the moonlight. There were provisions of streetlights but they were either malfunctioning or were damaged.
Some anti-social elements break the street lights on this road so that they can continue their activities with some anonymity and without any hindrance.
Barely did I knew that tonight my journey along this street would be eventful but not in a good way.
As I walked down the street, the rustic sound of the moving chain of my bicycle was my only companion.
There were no signs of people tonight which was pretty usual since not many of them prefer traveling down this street.
There was the presence of a strong wind blowing across the landscape which created animated shadows of the branches of numerous trees on the road.
It seemed as if the wind was the conductor of an orchestra and the trees were the different musicians playing to the tunes of nature.
The wind made a hissing sound while passing through the narrow branches. The fallen dry leaves made a gentle rustle as the wind caressed them on the ground. The branches of the trees crackled as they brushed against each other.
I struggled to keep the possession of my hat which was more inclined to fly away with the gust of the wind.
Somebody had lit a large bonfire in the empty ground some hundred yards away from the street. The smoke from the bonfire engulfed me.
Though the smoke was widespread because of the constant wind yet it was not a hindrance to completely limit my vision.
Some occasional streetlights flickered and they cast erratic shadows on the street. The atmosphere became very spooky and made me uncomfortable.
I decided to increase my pace and to reach my home at the earliest.
To supplement my anxiety, I started viewing grotesque patterns of the shadows cast on the ground. The moon played hide and seek with me and the occasional howling of a jackal made me perspire.
Suddenly I heard the sounds of footsteps coming from behind.
At first, I ignored them thinking it was my hallucination in this dreadful environment. I further increased my walking pace.
To my horror, I heard the pace of footsteps from my behind also increase. It seemed as though a person was intending to follow me. I began perspiring through my neck and somehow gathered the audacity to look behind. There was a person who was avidly following me from a distance.
He seemed to wear a full-length sweatshirt which covered most of his face. He was also traveling with his cycle and had a large bag attached to it.
‘Oye, you…..wait there!!’ The person shouted.
I became shell-shocked and trembled with fear. There was no other person in the street to whom I can ask for help.
‘That guy must probably be a murderer or a mugger. The ones we hear in newspapers… who rob and kill travelers in desolate streets.’ I thought to myself.
I didn’t listen to his command and started walking further briskly.
‘Hey, there!! I am talking to you only, young fella. I said stop there.’ the person shouted in a hoarse voice.
I became more nervous, the amplitude of my heart-beats further increased so much that I thought even the stranger would be probably hearing them.
‘I am not gonna fall into your trap. I know people like you are wayside mugger’s.’ I shrieked almost involuntarily.
Things people do when panic and anxiety overcome their rational actions.
‘Hey, relax young man. I am not a mugger. I am a police patrol officer. I am asking you to stop since you have trespassed into a prohibited zone.’ said the person. His gentle voice now seemed more of a request than an order.
Hesitatingly I stopped after some yards and turned around.
The smoke filled air was clearing gradually and the person was now much better visible.
‘Calm down. young man.’ He said and handed me his police ID card.
I realized that he was indeed a genuine patrol officer.
‘Look, you have trespassed into this street which has been closed off to general citizens. Haven’t you noticed the signage at the entrance.’ said the officer.
‘Umm…No. I have been living in Vancouver for the past six months and recently came back here. Earlier I used to frequent this street and thus may have overlooked such signage.’ I replied hesitatingly.
‘That’s fine for tonight but in future please avoid using this street.’ The officer ordered me turning his cycle to go back.
‘That’s alright officer. I won’t use this street anymore but I have one question.’
‘Yes. What is that?’ The officer inquired.
‘Why have you prohibited this street for the general public?’
‘Well, haven’t you heard of the serial murders taking place in the adjacent Moors of Rexdale?’ the officer asked squinting his eyebrows.
‘No, officer I am unaware of such news.’
‘Not your fault young man.’ The officer said sympathetically. ‘The murders were committed by a psychopath who seemed to get a kick out of killing innocent people and stealing their valuable items. Since this street is not well maintained and is usually frequented by anti-social elements, the county police have decided to prohibit it for general public usage.’
‘What a tragedy it is. It is of grave concern that such a crook exists in this rather peaceful suburban area. I hope you would be able to apprehend him soon.’ I said feeling a lump in my throat.
‘Yes very soon. We are on the lookout for that person and have also urged the citizens to be careful and vigilant.’ The officer replied.
‘Surely officer. I would take that into consideration. Thank you for bringing this to my notice.’ I replied.
The officer hopped on to his bicycle and disappeared into the darkness of this dreadful street.
Now I felt more anxious to reach my home. I still had to travel hundreds of yards and the murder story didn’t increase my valor. I hesitatingly started my brisk walk through the Edinborough street.
The hoots of an owl and the flapping of a bat’s wings made the scene even more frightening. I started missing the presence of the police officer.
The street was broken and the wheel of the cycle bounced over the multitude pebbles. My walk was also becoming uncomfortable.
However, I didn’t feel like stopping alas I may become a victim to the serial murderer.
Soon I approached the last curve of the street and was able to see scores of lanterns dotting the distant horizon of my locality. I felt a sense of relief but it was short lived.
I heard a sharp ruffling noise from the hedges adjoining the street. The hedges were moving vigorously and I felt as if something was about to pounce on me.
I was terrified of my wits. I wasted no time and instantly hopped on to my bicycle and pedaled fast to reach my home. I was able to hear the sound of something hoofing behind me and chasing me. I pedaled as hard as my legs could and almost felt like I was traveling at warp speed.
The street lights were now functioning and I turned back for a couple of seconds. It was nothing but a stay porcupine which was after me. Upon seeing the street lights it stopped chasing me and faded into the dark hedges.
I didn’t feel relieved by this incident and continued cycling my way back home.
As I reached my locality, the sight of other people alleviated my anxiety to a certain extent. I had the appearance of someone who has seen a ghost and few of my neighbors felt concerned about me.
They asked me if I was OK.
Mr.Hudson was kind enough to provide a glass of water to me and in no time I gulped it down.
I narrated the incidents that occurred to me along the Edinborough street to my neighbors.
They also said that they were not aware of the prohibition to general citizens however, they were aware of serial murders taking place in the Moors of Rexdale.
I felt relieved amidst the companionship of my acquaintances and after a while, I reached my home. I made sure that all the doors and windows were properly latched and to dispose of my fear I even placed a heavy mahogany table across the garden door at the rear of my house.
I ate a petite amount of food and retired to my bed feeling tired of the physical and mental exhaustion from the events of the evening.
I promised myself never to use the shortcut of Edinborough street but rather travel along the circuitous Windsor street.
My eyes felt heavy and my hamstrings hurt from the rapid cycling and in no time I snored off to sleep.
