Apparently I took this photo last year in February at Glenfinnan. I remember wondering about the bell in its own little house out on the grounds. As these things often work out with me, I never got around to looking it up until today. Whether the builders ran out of money before constructing the belfry, or it was a deliberate design decision to have the bell at ground level, seemingly isn’t recorded. Which is great for story tellers as we get to make up our own (outlandish) reasons…
My feet skidded on the clay-laden rain soaked mud and I fell. No time to dwell on the misfortune I scrambled up and continued running. I’d say like my life depended on it, but it actually did at that moment. My pursuers were not far behind.
I’d passed the church many times and not given it a second thought. Okay, in fairness, that’s not strictly true. The first time I saw it I noted the bell in its wee house on the grounds. I was tickled by the notion that it had it’s own manse for when it wasn’t needed in the belfry. Of course, that was silly. The church didn’t have a belfry.
Whatever crazy impulse drove me there, of all places, is beyond me to guess. Church had never been somewhere I’d sought out. I had nothing against it, of course. To each their own, I suppose, and people of faith have always seemed like decent folks. Which wasn’t a compelling reason to go running there when things went bad. And yet there I was.
Behind, I could hear ragged breathing. Not as one struggling for air, but a strange inhuman rasping. The sound of a monster. I ran on. My feet gripped and slipped at random, where wet grass gave way to sucking mud.
A voice shouted from ahead. “Ring the bell, fool!” A man with a short-cropped silver beard was standing in the church’s doorway. He was pointing frantically to my left.
“What?” Yes, it was a stupid question. Under the circumstances I think my confusion was fair.
“The bell, lad. Ring it!”
It sounded like terrible advice. Monsters were close on my heels and he wanted me to stop to ring a bell? But he seemed serious. He also seemed entirely unfazed by the creatures chasing me. I veered off to the bell house under the large tree. My feet squelched against thick mud and I almost slipped. The ragged breathing was close now. I could feel the heat of it on my neck. Or maybe that was my imagination. I didn’t dare turn to check.
Swerving around the wooden struts of the bell house I reached out and punched the bell as I ran past. It clanged dully but to my surprise the sound grew as I darted past. The noise swelled from a low chime to a resonant ringing. The ragged breaths turned into gasps. Under the peel of the bell I heard a series of splat sounds. Knees onto mud.
As I rounded the bell I risked a glance. The three creatures, all pale skinned men with long fingers and stark white fangs stabbing past scarlet lips, had collapsed on the grass a mere four steps back from the bell. I ran on to the church door, not trusting my sudden reprieve.
As I crossed the threshold the old man said, “You’re safe now, lad. There’s nothing to fear.”
Looking out, I could see that my attackers were crawling away. They tried desperately to cover their ears while still moving. The bell, improbably, was still ringing. I heard its unsettling tone as a buzzing in my spine as much as a sound in my ears.
“I don’t understand,” I gasped. I was winded from the run, but on some level I felt like I’d never catch my breath again. Too much had changed in too short a time.
“The power of our Lord has driven off the demons,” said the man. There was a quiet power to him. Like his voice anchored reality.
“Why would he save me? I don’t even believe in him.” In that moment I was afraid to admit it. Would my salvation be rescinded? Still, I felt the truth was owed.
The man smiled gently and a volcano of peace erupted through his face. “That doesn’t matter. He believes in you.”
Brandon Lim 