Fogarty: The Strange Tale of Fogarty Maximus and Other Dragons
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Caught in a massive storm off the north west coast of Scotland, Sir Maddy’s boat is hit by both a tornado and a huge waterspout. Knocked out, he’s transported on the top of the waterspout to a new land he soon learns is called Erehwon.
With his boat beyond repair, Sir Maddy starts to explore his new surroundings, little realising that he’s being watched by hundreds of pairs of eyes. What he finds astounds him - more wealth than he could have dreamed of in the form of precious metals and stones. But the owners of the find might prove an even more amazing, and more dangerous, secret...
Chris Bulteel
From school, college and onward to careers in catering management, local government and social care, Chris Bulteel met many interesting people from all walks of life. On retirement and already a published author (Trust Me I’m a Care Worker, The Book Guild), Chris sat down to write his incredible tale of dragons from a land called Erehwon. He is based in Dorset.
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Fogarty - Chris Bulteel
Copyright © 2021 Chris Bulteel
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Matador
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ISBN 9781800468320
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A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
This book is dedicated to the child in all of us, whatever age, from one to one hundred years old. It is especially dedicated to my own children, Sarah and Peter, and to my grandchildren, Ellie, Freya, Poppie and Lilly-Rose, who have all been my inspiration. To my beloved and long-suffering wife, Angela, who has given me so much love, support and understanding over so many years. Finally, to S. Kaye Watson for the skill and imagination in the artwork, which brings this tale to life. I couldn’t leave out the most important character, Sir Alisdair Maddy McGlynn, who related this tale to me.
An account of the first adventure of Sir Alisdair Maddy McGlynn.
Illustrations
1.Frontispiece. Fogarty
2.Shipwrecked on Erehwon
3.Prints in the sand!
4.Sir Maddy watches the dragon party
5.Dragon Cufflem
6.Dr Medibob
7.Bussby
8.A new baby dragon arrives
9.Percy
10.A baby asleep
11.A crash landing
12.Amanuensis
13.Their Royal Greatness’s
14.Fogarty
15.Sir Maddy
16.Speedy
17.Ruffly
18.Sulky
19.The Assembly assembles
20.Rescue from the squelchy bog
21.What to do next?
22.The bones brothers prepare
23.Plotters plotting
24.Burial ground
25.Royal pardon
26.Presentation day
Contents
Introduction
1.An Unexpected Encounter
2.The Storm
3.A Discovery
4.Sir Maddy Learns a Lesson
5.The World of Dragons
6.A New Arrival
7.A Humbling Experience
8.A Particularly Foggy Day
9.The Ceremony
10.Fogarty’s Early Years
11.Fogarty Finds A Friend
12.A Plot Is Hatched
13.Erehwon In Crisis
14.Sir Maddy Takes Control
15.A Peculiar Friendship
16.A Searching Situation
17.A State Of Confusion
18.Fogarty In Crisis
19.Old Pikey Takes Control
20.A Brave Rescue
21.A Celebration
22.The Laird Returns
23.A Mystery
Who is Fogarty?
What is the mystery
within these pages?
Read on and enjoy!
Introduction
As I tread the inexorable path of life towards my twilight years, I find that I have much time to reflect on my life thus far. I have led a very active and memorable life and experienced many ups and downs. Thankfully the ups have far exceeded the downs, but I have learnt to accept whatever comes my way with stoicism and understanding.
However, I don’t intend to relate my life story here. That is something for another time. I will, however, hint that the following pages contain characters that perfectly match those that I have had the good, or bad, fortune to encounter during my short existence thus far. I say good, because those encounters are memorable and have enriched my life. The bad ones are a useful reminder that no one is perfect and they remind us to steer clear of the wrong path in life.
Through the various and different phases of my life I have had the wonderful opportunity to meet very many people from every level of our society. What is certain is that whoever I have met, under some of the most extraordinary circumstances, whatever their status in life, they are all part of the same, worldwide community.
I have come across folk from the varied spectrum of human existence, from poor, helpless, homeless souls to the highest reaches of our royal family. I have met many of the humblest amongst us to multi-millionaires, parish councillors to senior government ministers, and from labourers to the heads of industry. I have also met many from academia and just as many with learning difficulties, not forgetting people from almost every race, tradition and religion.
It is said that there are seven deadly sins. To counter these there are also seven heavenly virtues. I won’t relate them all but would ask the reader to try to observe that all of them appear in some form in the following pages. It is also useful to look for the characters that display these traits, as they all mirror those whose paths I have crossed during my life.
Take, for example, one of my past bosses, who ruled by bullying, or a charming fellow who was obsessed and lived for methods of transportation, particularly buses. Then there was a very perceptive teacher of English that I remember. His father was a philosopher and historian. Also, not to be missed were the local policeman, the council secretary, an arrogant model and one who lusted after power. I couldn’t forget the beautiful lady who went about life in a meticulous fashion and cared for everyone but herself. My work put me in touch with those who suffered various disabilities and others that suffered from life-threatening health issues.
Finally there were those whose greed threatened to put them in grave danger, coupled with those whose kindness lit up my world.
1
An Unexpected Encounter
‘Unbelievably fantastic’ and ‘anything is possible’ are sayings that I remember from my dad’s ‘words of wisdom’ that inspired me as a young lad. However, nothing had prepared me for an encounter I had in our local park some months before the new millennium.
It was as I was pondering the weird and wonderful things that I had witnessed in my brief span of fifty incredible years, that my thinking came to an abrupt halt. My thoughts had arrived at the spring of 1999, when I had taken a walk in the park and was enjoying the fresh new green of the horse-chestnut trees and the sweet smell of freshly mown grass. I sat on a bench by the lake and was literally drinking in the atmosphere. After the long, cruel winter, I thought I must have finally arrived in paradise.
I was so engrossed that I was startled when, out of thin air, I heard someone say in a broad Scottish accent, Have you ever seen a dragon, laddie?
Surprised, I turned to my left to find that a very strange man had joined me. He was dressed from head to ankle in faded red tartan, from his tam-o’-shanter to his cape and onwards to his tight-fitting breeches. He wore brilliant white spats, fastened by thick golden buckles and carried a long, crooked walking stick, which sported a ram’s horn handle. Everything seemed to be fastened by brilliant buttons formed from precious metals and stones.
His weathered, wrinkled face resembled a large prune, the skin of which had hardened to the likeness of a walnut. His lips were thin, his nose very, very long and exceptionally pointed. He had massive owl-like eyebrows, and his eyes were so large, blue, bright and beautiful that it appeared that they had somehow been surgically transplanted into his hugely ugly face. He wore a large, solid gold ring, encrusted with precious stones on the small, chubby finger of his left hand. His whole countenance was strangely striking and compelling, yet rather frightening.
I had to know more of this stranger. In order to keep him there and continue this conversation, I replied, Course I have! Loads of ’em! Seen them in fairy-tale books when I was a boy, in history books when I was studying Saint George and in loads of films. Dragons are all over the place. Quite commonplace, really. Green monsters with trident tails and forked tongues, loads of scales on their skin, pointy bits down their backs and claws on their feet, and they breathe fire from their nostrils. Fearsome beasts, really; wouldn’t care to meet one right now!
"You d’ n’ ken what I’m asking you, laddie. I mean, have you ever seen a rreeaal dragon? Because I have, and I’ll tell you, they’re not quite what you think."
He then related to me the strangest tale that I have ever heard: a tale of hidden lands, dark forests, erupting volcanoes, bleak skies, fast-flowing rivers, cascading waterfalls and, of course, dragons. He told me of a time when he had been alone on his fishing boat off the north-west coast of Scotland where he had been caught up in the most violent storm he had ever experienced. His boat had been struck by a tremendous tornado, plucked from the sea on a massive waterspout and hurled many hundreds of miles away from his original course. He wasn’t sure of the direction but thought he must have been blown to the northeast. He had eventually landed on a bleak stony beach on a huge island that he called Erehwon. I pointed out to him that Erehwon seemed to be nowhere spelt backwards.
I ken that, laddie,
he replied. That’s because it was nowhere. It was there, all right, but after I got back to bonnie Scotland, Erehwon was nowhere to be seen on any charts, and no matter how many miles I have travelled, I have n’ seen the place again. When I’ve finished my tale Ye’ll believe me.
I will now try to recount this strange tale that took many weeks to tell. Day after day I would return to the same bench in the park and meet my newfound friend, Sir Alisdair Maddy McGlynn, who soon became affectionately known to me as Sir Maddy, which I sometimes, rather rudely, shortened to Sir Mad.
The shortened name Maddy was derived from an old family name, McMadden, and was often used by the ancient McGlynn clan as a middle name. At the end of the tale you will have to decide for yourselves whether he was an extraordinary storyteller, totally, completely and utterly mad, or had indeed experienced those strange events. If he had, then we must accept that there are some things in life we simply cannot explain, which are best left alone.
2
The Storm
The ancestors of Sir Alisdair Maddy McGlynn possess a great and long history. The head of the family has always been known as the Laird of Kinbrace. Once a leading clan, the McGlynns owned vast areas of mountains, glens, villages and crofts in the north-west highlands of Scotland. Their lands extended from the peak of Ben Kinbrace in the west to Lathron in the east and from Malvich in the north to Lairg in the south. I don’t know how much land that might be, but take it from me: it’s quite a lot.
Whoever owned that amount of land must have been incredibly rich, unless, of course, the land was only fit for growing heather, which, incidentally, it was.
That’s not such a bad thing if you want to keep trillions of bees and produce millions of tons of heather honey. Which leads me to an intriguing question. How come this hitherto unknown family came to own so much useless land, never produced a single pot of honey and yet have such a long and fine history? The answer is that they weren’t rich at all, but merely fine and old. They were eventually hit by crippling inheritance tax that forced them to sell most of the land and eventually retreat to the coast.
From living in a vast castle at Lathron, successive Lairds of Kinbrace had been forced to move to smaller and smaller homes until the present laird, Sir Maddy, had moved to a remote croft on the Kyle of Durness. This was to be the last move for the McGlynns, as he never married and had not produced an heir. Also, of course, another move would have seen the clan move into the sea, as there was no further north to go.
Sir Maddy eked out a frugal existence in the cruel climate in which he found himself. He owned a small fishing boat, a few sheep and chickens, an old, faithful horse and two cows. He kept these in some small, dry stone wall encircled fields. He also managed