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Author: langbot
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English[en]
I approached one of the niches and, with a steel rod that was too hand, levered open the plate that sealed it from the outside. It was the one which, by the date on the plaque, had most recently been sealed – about three months previously. Immediately, I was assailed by the stench of human decay. Upon examination, using my “Pope” light, I saw that a bodily liquor was already seeping from the base of the coffin. Would that have affected the structural integrity of the wooden container? Maybe not - not yet. However, given David’s reluctance to fall in line with my plan, I decided he was unlikely to agree to get inside a box that had already been occupied for some time – even if we were able to eject the previous occupant. The other coffins in the crypt were unlikely to be in any better shape. So, it was either the extravagantly ornate, but empty, box – or stay put and think of another plan. I turned to David: “He who hesitates is lost, my friend. Let’s pick up the box again and see what we can do.” This time, bereft of other ideas, I gritted my teeth and lifted the ornate coffin in a ‘clean and jerk’ motion. I posed ‘my end’ on my shoulder and, David, with no obvious effort, did likewise. We exited the crypt as quietly as possible and I wondered how long I could hold my breath – which was the only way I could maintain sufficient strength for the lift. As I walked along a narrow path, towards the parked army vehicles, I recalled that David and I were distantly related to a famous Husband and Wife team of Power Lifters. I knew for certain that I had not had the relevant gene passed down to me – but David, my identical twin, was showing no pain. (How did that work?) Distracted by this thought, I managed to maintain the lift until we reached the khaki Holden utility. This was the vehicle I had chosen to take and, as it happened, it was the closest. I halted and nodded desperately in the direction of the vehicle: “Put it down – gently!” I breathed. David rested his end of the box on the open tailgate of the ute – and did so gently, as requested. This, however, meant that I needed to slide the box forward to the cab wall, whilst still holding the weight of the coffin on my by-now-bruised shoulder .
Cornish[kw]
My a omneshas dhe onan yntra’n neythigow ha, gans gwelenn durek (a gevis vy a-ogas), kolpesa igor an plat re’n selsa dhiworth an tu a-ves. An huni o, herwydh dydhyas an blakk, re via selyes an moyha a-gynsow – nans o ogas dhe dri mis. A-dhistowgh, y feuv arvedhys gans fler poder denel. Dre hwithrans, ow kul devnydh a’m lugarn “Pab”, my a ylli gweles likour esa ow sygera seulabrys dhiworth ben an eler. Ewnhynseth gesweythel an gofenn brennek, a via henna kisys ganso? Martesen na – na hwath. Byttegyns, drefenn anvodh Davydh a-dro dhe’m towl, my a erviras nag o gwirhaval y vos akordyes gans y entrans yn boks okkupyes seulabrys dres nebes termyn – mar kallsen ni hogen tewlel yn-mes an annedhyas y’n eur na. Nyns o gwirhaval an geleryow erell y’n gleudhgell dhe vos yn gwella furv. Ytho, po kemmeres an eler ma, afinus mes gwag, po hy gasa – hag, y’n nessa kas na, res o dhyn kavoes towl arall. My a dreylas dhe Dhavydh: “An huni neb a hok yw kellys, ow sos. Gwren ni drehevel an boks rag gweles pyth a yllyn gul.” An prys ma, heb tybyansow arall vyth, my a wrug degea fast ow dyns ha drehevel an eler afinus yn mosion “clean ha jerk”. My a settyas penn an eler war ow skoedh ha, Davydh, heb stryvyans vyth, a’n gwrug yn kepar maner. Ni a asas an gleudhgell kosella gallen ha my a omwovynnas pes termyn esa dhymm bos heb anella – drefenn synsans ow gwyns o fordh unnsel may kyllyn gwitha nerth lowr rag an lyftyans na. Ha my kerdhys a-hys hyns ynn, wor’tu ha’n kerri-lu, my a borthas kov bos Davydh ha my unnwoes gans para ‘Gwreg ha Gour’ a Lyftoryon Nerthek, meur y vri. Sur ov nag esa dhymm kevrenn-enynnek grev gans an lyftoryon ma Byttegyns, nyns esa Davydh ow tiskwedhes kaletter vyth gans an ‘lyftyans’ – hag ev, ow gevell kehevelep. (Fatell a wrug henna oberi?) Ha my ombrederys a-dro dhe’n tybyans ma, my a ylli pesya gans an lyftyans erna dhrehedhsyn an karr-les, kaki y liw ha Holden y verk. Hemm o an karr re via dewisys bos kemmerys genen ha, dell hwarva, an nessa o dhyn ni. Y hedhis vy ha penndroppya yn desper wor’tu ha’n karr: “Iselha hi – yn kosel!” a hwythis vy. Davydh a worras benn an boks war an yet-lost igor – hag ev a’n gwrug yn kosel, kepar dell wovynnsen. Byttegyns, henn a styras bos res dhymm slynkya an eler yn-rag, bys dhe baros an kab, ha my synsys hwath y boester war ow skoedh, lemmyn pur vrywys.