I wrote a story called 'Traditions' inspired by Hard Days Night's 'No Reply' and George Anderson's 'No Reply: Answered.'
I really like the novelty of the plot line in these stories and wanted to explore a few variations of the same theme. Commentators highlighted the similarity to another story. I honestly had not read Fredoberto's 'Gifted' before writing the original story. I have now, and agree it is very similar, although I would also agree with the commentators that his is better.
This story explores a similar theme but hopefully with enough variation to keep it interesting. There is a bit of a nod to 'The Wicker Man', a 1973 British folk horror film in there as well.
It isn't meant to be taken too seriously, the situation and actions of individuals in the story are not realistic, normal people in normal relationships don't act like this; at least I hope not anyway. Hope you enjoy it, constructive comments welcomed.
***
Tom sat overlooking the sea with the sun dropping to the horizon, considering if this was the most tranquil place he'd ever experienced. 'Here' was a small island in the Outer Hebrides, West Scotland. Tom's wife Lorraine had urged him to move from Edinburgh back to the place she and countless generations of her family had grown up.
Tom was hoping to see the green flash as the sun dropped, he knew it was an explainable meteorological phenomena due to earth's atmosphere, but as a novelist he felt there should be a more romantic interpretation that he could use in a novel, without treading on the toes of Jules Verne too much.
The island was very remote and it was before the time of the internet and mass communication; Tom would have all the peace and tranquillity needed to keep writing. He had to admit it was a good move, especially with their intention of starting a family. Lorraine had been right; it was a different pace of life amongst a close community. She was delighted to be 'back home' and seemed to know everyone on the island. Tom felt some frostiness from the locals being an 'outsider' who married the pretty island girl but he liked their direct manner. The way everyone pitched in together was impressive, he pondered if it was all linked to the independence needed to survive as a small island community.
Tom had met Lorraine at University; both were studying English Literature. Lorraine was hoping to become a teacher whilst Tom focused on creative writing. They built a steady relationship and married soon after graduating, choosing to be based in Edinburgh for the best work opportunities.
At almost 6 foot, Lorraine was a tall and athletic woman, but on the island she was no more than average, all the locals seemed big, some huge. Tom wondered if they retained some of their Viking heritage, which was a feature in the west coast islands.
Most of the locals had blonde hair some with a red cast, Lorraine was no exception, she wore her hair swept back finishing at the nape of her neck. It matched perfectly with her piercing green eyes. She was perfection in his mind, although he'd recently began wondering if she might look even hotter when pregnant. Lorraine had delayed starting a family for the last couple of years, but now she was ready.
He had never seen his wife so happy, embroiled in island life and always involved in one committee or another. Her current project involved organising the solstice festival.
***
The festival involved the whole island for weeks leading up to the day itself. There were to be a series of competitions and games, a huge island get together during the day and a ceilidh with music, dancing and an unreasonable amount of whisky.
The competition involved a series of events very similar to highland games. These were designed to find the fittest and strongest and open to all males aged 18 to 30; the winner would be proclaimed that season's 'Tup'. A series of events for children were mini versions of the adult games.
Tom was invited to join the competition, he tried to reject the idea but the locals weren't having any of it. Not wanting to cause offence he agreed to give it a go.
He did well in the fell race finishing a very respectable second and might have done better if his calf hadn't cramped on the rough terrain. Tom was used to running on tracks and paths. He noticed a huge guy looking angry trailing in next to last, although how he finished the race at all with that amount of muscle was a mystery to Tom.
The next event involved using a pitch fork to hurl a wrapped bail or sheaf of straw over a bar that got progressively higher. Tom gave it a go but failed to clear the lowest bar height. He politely retired from the competition having worked out the rest of the events were all based on strength and that he didn't have a chance against the gigantic islanders.
That decision looked to be the right one as the giants excelled at the next two events, one involving throwing a weight over a bar and the stone put, the highland version of shot putting. Then there was an event which Tom hadn't seen before, it involved catching and hefting a calf. He had no idea what the rules were, but was impressed at how the competitors man handled the sizeable animals with apparent ease. That alone confirmed Tom's decision to drop out as a wise one.
The next event had two competitors sat on the grass facing each other, with the soles of the feet placed against one another's and each holding either end of a stick. It was a pure strength test, whoever lifted their opponent off the ground won. The final event was the traditional caber toss, he watched the giant who had finished second last in the fell race launch the largest caber impressively, sailing up and over end to land dead straight and win the event.
The competition was highly impressive and fiercely fought but Sean McLeod won all of the strength events and the overall title called the 'Tup'. He was a 'man mountain', his body was like Chris Hemsworth's, although he couldn't match the star's good looks, appearing altogether more rough and gloomy.
As the evening programme began, Tom was introduced to some islanders he hadn't met, including the McLeod family and Sean, he congratulated him on his win. Tom felt like the outsider again as Lorraine and the McLeod's discussed old family ties, so he quietly wandered off for another drink.
Tom checked Lorraine out from the bar and thought she looked stunning in the summer dress which certainly flaunted her full breasts and shapely calves. He could see where Lorraine had gained her looks; Megan remained a striking woman looking more like Lorraine's big sister than her mum. They had been talking to Sean at length before he took a laurel wreath from the stage and placed it on Lorraine's head, a small sheer went up from those watching. Tom wandered over, more than interested to see what was happening, Sean moved off as he approached.
"What's up Lorraine?" nodding towards her new headwear.
"Oh nothing really, it's an old tradition, the 'Tup' gets to choose the solstice queen. The families go back a long way, it's a nice gesture by Sean as a welcome home gift, I can't reject the offer but it means nothing really."
Her mum interrupted, "Rubbish Lorraine, it's still a great honour to be chosen and nice as you missed the opportunity when away at University."
Tom didn't like the idea of his wife being chosen by another man, "Do you have any duties as the Queen?"
"No nothing at all, it's just symbolic... well other than wander around with this scratchy thing on my head all night."
"Actually, it suites you, it frames your gorgeous face."
Lorraine thanked him for the compliment and grabbed his arm as they returned to join the dancing which seemed to involve all ages mixing in. They got dragged up for a reel, Tom ended up dancing with an attractive brunette after one of the exchanges.
He bumped into her at the bar a bit later, finding out she was a widow and called Morag. They chatted about the island, the festival and its traditions. She had a warm and engaging personality, happily recited stories about previous festivals. Tom asked her about the solstice queen tradition, saying he understood in wasn't optional.
Morag seemed to hesitate but went on, "That's not quite true, and there are only a few families who follow the old traditions now. Actually, I rejected it when it was offered to me a few years ago."
"Oh why was that?"
"It just didn't feel right; my Fraser was off serving with the Highlanders in the Scot's Regiment and posted to Afghanistan, so I refused. Families see it differently, it's just an old traditional for most of us; when he didn't come home I was pleased to have refused."
"I am really sorry; I didn't mean to drag all of that up for you."
"It's ok, it's was years ago, and the pain of his memory has eased with time."
The festival celebrated the land providing, a bit like an autumn festival but at the start of the growing season. As part of that Megan suggested I went out with the local fishermen. Lorraine thought it was a good way of integrating with the islanders, saying that if the fishermen accepted me then everyone else would. I was given lots of warnings about fishing superstitions and not bringing bad luck... don't whistle on the boat and don't mention the word pig, and don't talk about women, it was along list of don'ts.
We put to Sea and headed to the fishing grounds, hauling and rebating strings of pots which caught lobsters, langoustine and crabs. The currents were treacherous, I'd thought whirlpools were a Hollywood invention, but the ones around the island were very real. The skipper Fergus explained the tides ran quick through the pinch points on sea loch's and over submerged rocks causing the whirlpools. They fished in the slack between tides to make hauling possible.
Tom was alarmed when he saw water pooling in the bottom of the boat, the skipper was relaxed about it, "No worries laddie, the planks sometimes dry out or ease apart, the pump will keep us afloat well enough but we best get back to the harbour."
Tom was relieved to get back to dry land, although Fergus had been right, the pump had coped. He jumped off the boat and made a quick climb to the croft they had converted into a house.
He walked into the kitchen to see his mother in law reading from a prayer book, but that wasn't what caught his attention. What did, was the sound of sex, very loud sex emanating from the bedroom.
He barged passed Megan, running up the stairs two at a time and burst into the bedroom.
Lorraine was on all fours and oblivious to her surroundings and making a keening sound, as Sean fucked her from behind. He was jack hammering into her with what seemed like an enormous cock, making Lorraine's tits bounce all over the place.
Sean looked at him with contempt, "I am not finished yet."
He just kept fucking her, if anything even harder; Tom couldn't believe it was the next statement that absolutely floored him.
Lorraine finally looked up at Tom with wild eyes and panting heavily, "We'll be done soon honey."
Tom was staggered, this couldn't be real, he was about to turn for the stairs before coming to his senses. He reached for what was closest: a framed wedding photograph of him and Lorraine and launched it at Sean, connecting on the side of his head.
"You little fucker!"
Sean disengaged from Lorraine and stomped over, pushing Tom backward. It was a fight, but not like in films, just a big heap of two blokes crashing into things. Tom caught Sean a glancing blow to the face but he didn't seem to feel it at all. A second later he felt his nose splatter; Sean overpowered him, slamming him into the wall and punching him repeatedly in the ribs.
He heard Lorraine scream, "Don't hurt him Sean."
The next punch landed on his jaw sending him towards unconsciousness, he was vaguely aware of Lorraine trying to pull Sean off him and felt blood pouring from his the back of nose into his throat as his vision faded to black.
