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In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out the unimaginable reality of what happened to Farfalla after the accident.
This week's podcast partner is Volsteadland: https://linkin.bio/volstead_land
The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com
The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell
Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com
Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri
The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell
All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com
Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music
Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.
FULL TRANSCRIPT:
Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 15 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.
In last week’s episode Tragedy fell as the boat that James and Farfalla were travelling on shattered into the sea, leaving Farfalla to sink to the depths of the water.
In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out what happened to Farfalla after the accident.
Today’s podcast partner is Volsteadland. Hosts Amy and Heather take you to the deepest, darkest recesses of prohibition era Minneapolis while exploring the fascinating real life story of famous Twin Cities mobster Kid Cann. Even if you aren’t familiar with Minneapolis, or Kid Cann, this is a fascinating tale that you won’t want to miss. Just check the show notes for a link to Voslteadland.
Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.
All is dark.
I cannot tell if I’ve died. I cannot tell if I’m breathing. I cannot tell if I hear music, or voices, or a ringing in my ears. I cannot tell if I am moving or if I am still, if I am surrounded by water or by air, or by sand. I cannot tell if I feel arms around me, or waves, or wind.
My only thought is Elisabeth. My darling, beloved Elisabeth. If I focus all my attention, all my energy, all my being on her, perhaps there will be light…
… … …
I hear something. Voices. Shouting. Crashing waves.
I can feel air burning through my lungs. I can feel pain as my body sucks it in and pushes the water out. I can see a flicker of orange light through my closed eyelids, I think it is the sun. I think I can open my eyes.
I think I am alive.
~~~~~~
“Over here!” shouts the man, waving an arm at the group of people further down the beach.
They rush over and stop short when they come to the body. The woman is laying in the sand, her white dress clinging to her wet body. Her red hair is splayed out in the sand like a crown. Around her neck is a silver chain with trinkets attached, a charm in the shape of a tree, a silver ring, and a small key shaped like a feather. There is nothing else around her to indicate who she is or where she has come from.
“Is she…” asks a woman, not daring to finish the sentence. The man shrugs, and gently kicks at the red-haired woman’s foot. At that precise moment the woman inhales deeply, emitting a loud raspy sound that startles the small group and causes them to jump back.
Farfalla blinks hard, blinded by the bright sunlight. She stays on the ground, trying to catch her breath. She can feel the pressure of the wet sand under her back. She must be on a beach. Her head hurts as she tries to recall what happened. She remembers being on the ferry, coming to Scotland, with James. James, her husband. There was a woman on top of the cliff, she threw something, and when it hit the water… Farfalla moans as a piercing headache stretches across her forehead like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, she thinks of Elisabeth. “Elisabeth,” she mumbles, struggling to sit up. A large, rough hand reaches out to help lift her into a sitting position. She can see the hazy outline of a person in front of her. “Elisabeth,” she croaks, a pleading tone in her voice.
“S’alright miss, dunnae worry yourself, you’re safe now,” says a man’s voice above her, his words garbled by her throbbing headache and the ringing in her ears. He crouches down to her level and comes into focus. Farfalla stares at his weathered face for a moment, noting his thick gray beard and gentle blue eyes. She blinks several times, then turns to look around. She can see the beach stretching on either side of her, and jagged stone cliffs reaching up into the sky. Ahead of her are fields dotted with the odd house, each connected by a winding road. She painfully turns her head to look back toward the water. Where are the docks? Where are the fishing boats?
“The boats…” she tries, but her throat is too raw to say anymore.
“Come, love, let’s get you some dry clothes and a cuppa tea, aye?” says a petite, older woman standing nearby. The woman nods at the men next to her, and they walk over to Farfalla. She feels their arms wrap around her and pull her to her feet. Now that she is upright, she can see there is a horse and cart parked on the road across the beach. Where are the cars? she wonders. James organized for a driver to take them from the docks to Carnifex House. She remembers him making the phone call from the hotel in Glasgow. The driver’s name was Geoffrey. Farfalla looks around the beach again. Where are the other passengers? Where is the ferry boat? If something happened to the boat, shouldn’t there be debris on the beach? She turns toward the water again, scanning the horizon for any sign of the ferry, the people… or James.
“Have you ever seen her before?” whispers the weathered-face man to the younger man standing next to him. The younger man shakes his head. “It’s like she just walked out’ the sea,” continues the older man. He and the younger man give one another a knowing look and the older man’s lips press together tightly.
“What’s this?” The woman’s voice brings Farfalla back to the present moment. The woman is holding up Farfalla’s clenched fist. Confused, Farfalla loosens her grip and looks down at her outstretched hand. Her hand immediately begins the tremble. The item her fingers brushed up against in the bottom of the sea. The last thing she felt before everything went dark. The mysterious item from her recurring dream, the one she never got a chance to see. In all the commotion she had forgotten all about it, but here it is now. Shining silver in her outstretched palm is The Skylark Bell. The same bell Marius had given her for her birthday all those years ago, the same one that hung in her window at Meadow Lane until the day she and her family left, the same one she herself had placed in a locked box and hidden under a floorboard in her old bedroom. Farfalla can hear the ringing in her ears progressively get louder. She feels a wave a nausea and dizziness rise from her feet to her head. She hears one of the men shout “She’s going to faint!” as someone leans in to catch her, then everything goes dark.
The man cradles Farfalla in his arms and carries her up the beach to the road. Another man helps him life her into the cart, and the old woman places a folded blanket under her head for support. “Here, take my flask. She’ll need a drink to steady her nerves when she wakes,” says the man with the weathered face. One of the men and the old woman settle into the front of the cart. The man makes a clicking sound with his tongue and taps the long reins on the horse’s back. Farfalla’s body jolts from side to side as the horse and cart start working their way up the long, steep, winding road.
The old woman turns back and stretches her arm to take the bell still loosely held in Farfalla’s hand. She rubs some sand off the surface with her thumb and holds it close to her face, squinting to make out the words engraved on it. “The Skylark Bell rings only for The Skye Lark Bell,” she reads, her pitch going up with every word. An audible gasp escapes the man sitting next to her. “It’s her!” she whispers, turning to the man, wide eyed.
Farfalla, semi-conscious, shakes her head from side to side. Her? Who? She wonders, too exhausted and confused to utter the words out loud. She lets the steady movement of the cart and the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road lull her back to sleep. There will be plenty time to sort things out.
Thank you so much for listening. Join me next week for Chapter 16 – Selkie – In which Farfalla tries to get her bearings in her new surroundings.
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further, you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.
Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.
By Melissa West5
1919 ratings
In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out the unimaginable reality of what happened to Farfalla after the accident.
This week's podcast partner is Volsteadland: https://linkin.bio/volstead_land
The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com
The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell
Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com
Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri
The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell
All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com
Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music
Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.
FULL TRANSCRIPT:
Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 15 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.
In last week’s episode Tragedy fell as the boat that James and Farfalla were travelling on shattered into the sea, leaving Farfalla to sink to the depths of the water.
In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out what happened to Farfalla after the accident.
Today’s podcast partner is Volsteadland. Hosts Amy and Heather take you to the deepest, darkest recesses of prohibition era Minneapolis while exploring the fascinating real life story of famous Twin Cities mobster Kid Cann. Even if you aren’t familiar with Minneapolis, or Kid Cann, this is a fascinating tale that you won’t want to miss. Just check the show notes for a link to Voslteadland.
Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.
All is dark.
I cannot tell if I’ve died. I cannot tell if I’m breathing. I cannot tell if I hear music, or voices, or a ringing in my ears. I cannot tell if I am moving or if I am still, if I am surrounded by water or by air, or by sand. I cannot tell if I feel arms around me, or waves, or wind.
My only thought is Elisabeth. My darling, beloved Elisabeth. If I focus all my attention, all my energy, all my being on her, perhaps there will be light…
… … …
I hear something. Voices. Shouting. Crashing waves.
I can feel air burning through my lungs. I can feel pain as my body sucks it in and pushes the water out. I can see a flicker of orange light through my closed eyelids, I think it is the sun. I think I can open my eyes.
I think I am alive.
~~~~~~
“Over here!” shouts the man, waving an arm at the group of people further down the beach.
They rush over and stop short when they come to the body. The woman is laying in the sand, her white dress clinging to her wet body. Her red hair is splayed out in the sand like a crown. Around her neck is a silver chain with trinkets attached, a charm in the shape of a tree, a silver ring, and a small key shaped like a feather. There is nothing else around her to indicate who she is or where she has come from.
“Is she…” asks a woman, not daring to finish the sentence. The man shrugs, and gently kicks at the red-haired woman’s foot. At that precise moment the woman inhales deeply, emitting a loud raspy sound that startles the small group and causes them to jump back.
Farfalla blinks hard, blinded by the bright sunlight. She stays on the ground, trying to catch her breath. She can feel the pressure of the wet sand under her back. She must be on a beach. Her head hurts as she tries to recall what happened. She remembers being on the ferry, coming to Scotland, with James. James, her husband. There was a woman on top of the cliff, she threw something, and when it hit the water… Farfalla moans as a piercing headache stretches across her forehead like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, she thinks of Elisabeth. “Elisabeth,” she mumbles, struggling to sit up. A large, rough hand reaches out to help lift her into a sitting position. She can see the hazy outline of a person in front of her. “Elisabeth,” she croaks, a pleading tone in her voice.
“S’alright miss, dunnae worry yourself, you’re safe now,” says a man’s voice above her, his words garbled by her throbbing headache and the ringing in her ears. He crouches down to her level and comes into focus. Farfalla stares at his weathered face for a moment, noting his thick gray beard and gentle blue eyes. She blinks several times, then turns to look around. She can see the beach stretching on either side of her, and jagged stone cliffs reaching up into the sky. Ahead of her are fields dotted with the odd house, each connected by a winding road. She painfully turns her head to look back toward the water. Where are the docks? Where are the fishing boats?
“The boats…” she tries, but her throat is too raw to say anymore.
“Come, love, let’s get you some dry clothes and a cuppa tea, aye?” says a petite, older woman standing nearby. The woman nods at the men next to her, and they walk over to Farfalla. She feels their arms wrap around her and pull her to her feet. Now that she is upright, she can see there is a horse and cart parked on the road across the beach. Where are the cars? she wonders. James organized for a driver to take them from the docks to Carnifex House. She remembers him making the phone call from the hotel in Glasgow. The driver’s name was Geoffrey. Farfalla looks around the beach again. Where are the other passengers? Where is the ferry boat? If something happened to the boat, shouldn’t there be debris on the beach? She turns toward the water again, scanning the horizon for any sign of the ferry, the people… or James.
“Have you ever seen her before?” whispers the weathered-face man to the younger man standing next to him. The younger man shakes his head. “It’s like she just walked out’ the sea,” continues the older man. He and the younger man give one another a knowing look and the older man’s lips press together tightly.
“What’s this?” The woman’s voice brings Farfalla back to the present moment. The woman is holding up Farfalla’s clenched fist. Confused, Farfalla loosens her grip and looks down at her outstretched hand. Her hand immediately begins the tremble. The item her fingers brushed up against in the bottom of the sea. The last thing she felt before everything went dark. The mysterious item from her recurring dream, the one she never got a chance to see. In all the commotion she had forgotten all about it, but here it is now. Shining silver in her outstretched palm is The Skylark Bell. The same bell Marius had given her for her birthday all those years ago, the same one that hung in her window at Meadow Lane until the day she and her family left, the same one she herself had placed in a locked box and hidden under a floorboard in her old bedroom. Farfalla can hear the ringing in her ears progressively get louder. She feels a wave a nausea and dizziness rise from her feet to her head. She hears one of the men shout “She’s going to faint!” as someone leans in to catch her, then everything goes dark.
The man cradles Farfalla in his arms and carries her up the beach to the road. Another man helps him life her into the cart, and the old woman places a folded blanket under her head for support. “Here, take my flask. She’ll need a drink to steady her nerves when she wakes,” says the man with the weathered face. One of the men and the old woman settle into the front of the cart. The man makes a clicking sound with his tongue and taps the long reins on the horse’s back. Farfalla’s body jolts from side to side as the horse and cart start working their way up the long, steep, winding road.
The old woman turns back and stretches her arm to take the bell still loosely held in Farfalla’s hand. She rubs some sand off the surface with her thumb and holds it close to her face, squinting to make out the words engraved on it. “The Skylark Bell rings only for The Skye Lark Bell,” she reads, her pitch going up with every word. An audible gasp escapes the man sitting next to her. “It’s her!” she whispers, turning to the man, wide eyed.
Farfalla, semi-conscious, shakes her head from side to side. Her? Who? She wonders, too exhausted and confused to utter the words out loud. She lets the steady movement of the cart and the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road lull her back to sleep. There will be plenty time to sort things out.
Thank you so much for listening. Join me next week for Chapter 16 – Selkie – In which Farfalla tries to get her bearings in her new surroundings.
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further, you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.
Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.