Copyright Rachel Bjerke
Fog dipped and curled on the fringes of the motorway, beading the grimy fleeces of wall-eyed sheep huddled beneath dry-stone boundaries.
Will shivered; he shared none of his father’s passion for the north of England.
‘I’ve become a real southern jessie now.’
“You were born in the shadow of the Pennines,” his father’s voice echoed down the years, “and that’s where you’ll die.”
A column of brake lights hurtled towards him like a Mexican wave, and as the radiator grill of a ten ton Scania filled his rear windscreen, Will wondered whether his father hadn’t nailed it… yet again.
We returned last night from one of our periodic visits to the north of England, and Rachel Bjerke’s photo, combined with my reflections crossing Saddleworth Moor on the M62 (the highest point of any motorway in England) provided the inspiration for this piece for Friday Fictioneers. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who’s celebrating brilliant news this week, will be dancing her way through the submissions once more. Congratulations, Rochelle, attagirl!
castelsarrasin 
Dear Sandra,
News? What news? He he. 😉 Although the work part of it has begun.
Oh yes, your story…I’d say that Will’s not going to have much time to ponder his father’s words. One of my greatest fears is living through a terrible car crash. Your descriptions are vivid. Well written as always.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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The M62 is a very fast moving motorway, subject to rapid changes in weather conditions at its highest point. Not one of my favourite journeys this. Thanks for reading Rochelle.
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Great description added to this well-written piece, Sandra. A truck that close to the back of anyone’s car would be frightening. Well done as always. 🙂 — Suzanne
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Tailgaters – don’t you just love them? Thanks Suzanne.
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Ooo-er…..
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Great description of him feelings!
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Thank you 🙂
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Oh .. I hate it when father’s right… I guess there was not much time to ponder, more a flash of realization.. As usual a perfect prose ..
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Thanks Bjorn.
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A nice pastiche of glorious words, Sandra. Well done.
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‘pastiche’. Love that word. Thanks for dropping by.
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Yes! Water does bead on the fleece of a grimy sheep… Your minute descriptions leave me in awe Sandra! My grandmother was from the north of England but I’ve never been there myself. You’re not really selling the place!
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It’s an acquired taste Jessie. I’ve lost it. 🙂 Thanks for reading and commenting.
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I’ve read a lot about the north of England, ‘google earth’-visited it, and really want to go there some day. Your story makes me want to go even more. This story is a great moment in time, hopefully not the last one for Will.
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So many parts of England have their own special characteristics – almost like many countries rolled into one. Glad you liked the story.
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Great descriptive writing. And that last para/sentence flows so well.
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Thank you Patrick. 🙂
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First of all the photo for this week’s challenge is just incredible, isn’t it? Particularly enjoyed your description of the fog and the sheep which so perfectly fits the mood of the photo.
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Thanks Barbara. It’s indeed a lovely photo.
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Your description of the north of England is perfect, Sandra. Your last paragraph is so shocking, but I’ve come to expect the twist in the tail. 😕
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Thank you. I like a good twist to spice a piece up. 🙂
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Me too, and you never disappoint. 🙂
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while the story paints a different pciture of a highway and car window….it still connects to the picture 100% That was good!
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Thank you!
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What a way to die…this is one chilling story, from start to end.
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Thanks Lore, just chilling. 🙂
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Sandra, through your descriptions I was right there with him. But these moments happen even in places that aren’t the north of England. I’ve done many a drive in terrible weather when I felt the way he did. I was pleasantly surprised not to read about someone literally being nailed, what I expected from the title. 🙂
janet
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I fear you expect the worst from me Janet. 🙂 Thank you for reading.
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‘Tis true, Sandra, and with good reason.
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Sensory overload. I can hear the screeching tires (tyres?) You just know those stupid sheep are going to trot away a few steps and keep on chewing. And if he doesn’t survive, somewhere in the great beyond he’ll have to endure Dad’s “Told you so,” poor fellow. Very well done.
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I think that’s exactly what they’ll do. You’ve nailed it! 🙂
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Always good to confuse the Americans with a tale of Olde England 🙂
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I’ve realised that over the three years I’ve been doing this, I’ve tended to set my stories for the majority readership. So recently I’ve been redressing the balance. I quite often have to google to understand the references in the stories on here, and even then the significance sometimes escapes me. So I’m indulging myself, I suppose. Thanks for reading.
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Great work, Sandra. I love it when you take a walk on the darker side. Keep these gems coming. I’ll be reading.
All my best,
MG
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Thanks Marie-Gail. Glad you like the darker side… many don’t. 😉
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Fathers should never be right about this kind of thing. Chillingly done Sandra. P.S. The first line truly sets the mood. Kudos once again.
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Thanks Alicia. Glad you liked it.
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When I was a teenage I got hit from behind. I saw the guy coming. however I was driving my father’s tank and emerged unscathed except for the memory of those headlights in my rear view.
Thanks for the memory 😉
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Sorry for dredging up some horror from the past, Dawn. There’s nothing worse than braking hard and then watching some monster hurtling up behind you.
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That was a LONG time ago Sandra. I was mostly kidding about the flashback. But when I was young and a new driver it was traumatic. For one thing I didn’t call the cops and my father was livid when he found that out. but the guy took care of the damage like he said he would.
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Lucky break there then!
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Oh dear! I think he will survive but with his memories erased in the accident, making a new life for himself. A man with no past. 😉
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At least if his memories are erased he won’t have to keep going up north any more. 🙂
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Sandra,
Nailed it! This seems like some dark humor to me. 🙂 The beautiful, vivid description of that first sentence goes to show why I always make sure to read your stories every week. Great job as always,
David
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Thanks David. I quite often watch the sheep on Saddleworth Moor – such a bleak existence and they’re so unfazed by the endless roar of traffic that slices through their grazing areas.
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nobody’s perfect. hopefully, his father didn’t nail it this time.
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Hopefully. 🙂 Thanks for visiting.
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Dear Sandra,
Ruminations on mortality from between a oak and a hard place? I love this story. So in the now, as it were, and a seemingly very short now as it stands. Well done.
Aloha,
Doug
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Thanks Doug, glad you liked it.
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Brake lights like a Mexican wave – great line. The unfortunately prophetic quote from the father was a very clever little twist there too :).
Cheers
KT
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I was struck by that when I saw the traffic slow rapidly; fortunately we weren’t struck by the lorry behind.
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slow rapidly? slow suddenly. Duh!
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Ouch 😦 Hopefully the lorry has good brakes.
Your first paragraph was particularly good, I almost felt I was there.
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Thank you!
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Life and death can certainly bring us back to our roots with a bang no matter how much we think we’ve moved on. There are lots of sheep and mist here in Donegal too!
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Thanks for visiting Siobhan. Yes I know about the sheep and mist. I once visited Ireland riding pillion on a huge motorbike. In the rainy season, if you can differentiate a rainy season. 🙂
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Yikes! Parents are always right, they seem to know everything!
Lovely descriptions on such a dark tale. Great story 🙂
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Thanks Rachel, great photo.
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This is one southern jessie who’s gonna avoid the M62 in future trips oop north!
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🙂 Love the phrase ‘southern jessie’.
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Loved your story. The description of fast, dangerous roadway is spot on. I have a love/hate relationship with the very scenic, but too drastically winding, Pacific Highway in California. Reminded me of that!
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Thanks Jan – I’m not familiar with the route but I can imagine. I’m not good when there’s a steep drop at the side of me.
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Gorgeous descriptions in a brilliant story. I hope his father proves to be wrong on this one… 🙂
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Thank you!
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Ohhh, too close to home this week. We had a Grandfather who was pulling his twin grandbabies (13 mths old) in a little wagon when a young lady in a van swerved, hit, and killed all three of them. This occurred right in front of where we live.
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Oh that’s tragic. We’ve had several similar incidents here recently. One in Scotland where a grandfather, grandmother and grandchild were killed on a main shopping street by a runaway vehicle. Thanks for dropping by.
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I loved the way you wrote it, Sandra. Beautiful work!
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Thank you!
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Here’s hoping his father’s wrong… I love the sheep, and the Mexican wave of brake lights – fantastic details.
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Thanks Sonya. 🙂
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Glad I had my seatbelt on for that ride. I like it.
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Thanks Tracey. 🙂
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Yet again, another intriguing story. I think the dad knows whereof he speaks.
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Dad’s frequently do. Thanks for visiting Perry.
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Oh, the terror of being in a little bitty car sandwiched between two giant trucks at 70 mph. That’s when my butt checks suck up the upholstery of the driver’s seat and anxiety ties my stomach into a ball of knots. Dad is always right, you know–that’s what I tell my son.
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I can smell your story, Sandra – coming from even farther north, it brought it back. Lovely use of language and you end on a cliffhanger; or maybe I should say, moorhanger. 🙂
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Hi Ann, yes, moors do have a fragrance (some would say stench) of their own. I still remember the peaty, mossy tang when I used to walk up there. The fens don’t quite cut it in the same way, but they have an openness of their own. ‘ Wheeling skies’ is the way I would describe the area round where we live now.
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Wheeling or stinking are better than the smell of a town any day. There are times I have to run away to the wild or go mad.
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Shudder D: My Jeep got written off by a lorry several years ago. As my vehicle was dragged down the road to the sound of shrieking metal and tyres, I thought “this is it” with incredible calmness. The shock only sunk in afterwards, especially with my son and my dog having been with me at the time (although the dog slept through the whole thing). Miraculously, we got out of the Jeep in one piece, though its front was totally crumpled with smoke belching out in clouds from the engine. Your story certainly brought the whole thing back to me. As for fathers who are always right (or think they are), I’ve experienced that one, too.
Well written, Sandra.
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Sounds totally terrifying Sarah. Glad you survived intact, together with your son and dog. Thanks for dropping by.
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Potent cliff hanger at the end. Is it his end?
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Looking like it. 😦 Thanks for reading.
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So sad.
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The revenge of the North…
This southern jessie enjoyed it, right down to those grimy sheep.
Advertises the north much like Wuthering Heights – enter at your peril! The first sentence full of Bronte – like foreshadowing!
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The grimy sheep are waiting for you… Thaks for reading.
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Fantastic descriptions and wonderful change of pace and mood at the end. Wow.
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Thank you Margaret! 🙂
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I always enjoy reading your stories. No matter the subject, your writing style is always so alive! Love the Scania truck reference, next up Leyland?
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Actually, the first version was ‘a ten ton Dodge’ but when I researched it I couldn’t be sure there was such a thing! Glad you enjoyed it. And thank you. 🙂
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Sounds as if your drive ‘up north’ was a bit hairy!
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I feel those headlights coming up behind me. Yikes! I better speed up. Vivid descriptions.
Lily
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Sandra, EXCELLENT! I have been hit from behind by a drunk driver and it was right before finals in college. Wow, I hurt in my neck! Love your story, it’s spot on perfect! Nan 🙂
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I like the image of the fog dipping and curling just off the roadway – sets a tone. Seems Will was cursed.
Ellespeth
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great story. If he survived I think I’d heed his Father and never go to the Penines.
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Better late than never, Sandra– especially with your stories. Every week you deliver such creative and well done stories. This one was so vivid and chilling. That final moment jolted me.
Again, sorry for being late… I’ve been flying by the seat of my pants for weeks… months perhaps!
:-p
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beautiful shot
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