THE POLITICS OF PARADISE POND

                             

                                                             Chapter Nine
                                                 The High court of Paradise

The area in the middle of the western half of the pond, about half way between the newt and the stickleback areas was the biggest and deepest part of the lake.  It was full of rocks and boulders, but it had a large flat area at its centre.  It was to here that Peter had been taken when he was first enticed into the water.  It was here that he had discovered the sheer joy of the underwater ballet, when he and Frederick had swum their duet; where he had met Giles for the first time; and it was here that he had so recently come face to face with the biggest set of teeth he had ever seen. It was also where all the creatures of Paradise Pond were to meet.
 How many? who can say.  There were fish of all varieties and sizes from Paddy and his few relatives, down to uncountable minnows.  Not least in this section was the formidable band of sticklebacks until recently lead by the elderly Sol, whose fierce independence was a legacy of his Scottish ancestors. Now he was gone and the sticklebacks had a new leader who Peter was sure would lead them well.
 Then the small life. Millions of aquatic insects of every conceivable kind, from the mud below, between the rocks, in amongst the weeds and the reeds, behind the leaves, inside the stalks, and all those that simply swam, either in, or on, the water.
          After that were the two main protagonists groups in the dispute. On one side there were the frogs, while on the other side the newts. Both leaders were now facing each other in this high court.  In the middle a single large flat topped rock was the focal point.  Was it table perhaps, or chillingly, a sacrificial alter?
          A little away from this rock two figures were gently levitating.  Peter, young, but displaying a sense of responsibility beyond his years. Also Clarence, old and wise; and knowledgeable of all matters relating to Paradise. He was respected by all the inhabitants of their world, except perhaps the two main protagonists. He had been called on to act with Peter as judge and jury, and to see that the meeting was conducted properly.
          The meeting was indeed just about to start, and Peter was having a crisis of conscience.  From the very outset he had declared his insistence on the democratic process, yet here he was ready to pass sentence before a word had been said.
          "I'm acting like God." he said to Clarence.
          "But they think you are God."
          "That's all very well, but what about my beliefs; my upbringing?"
          "And what about nature?" countered Clarence, "and in any case, that is what this meeting is for."
          Peter was at a loss.  He knew what had to be done, but he was uneasy. Clarence had earned his position of prestige and authority. "But what makes me fit to judge?" he asked himself.
          Just before they took their places Clarence quietly asked Peter his name. Somewhat surprised he answered. "You know very well, it's Peter"
          "Peter what?"
          "Peter Crawford"
          "Do you have a middle name?"
          "I do"
          "And may I know what it is?"
          "Yes if you like; it's John."
          "Peter John Crawford." Laurence said it out in full  "I thought it might be something a little different." he paused and said, "No matter, I think it is time to start."
          When Peter and Clarence had arrived a little earlier at the meeting place they thought at first glance that they might not find any room, such was the crowd before them. The flat area was about the size of a supermarket car park. Around its perimeter lay the piles of rocks, which, as Peter had earlier discovered, were the flattened remains of a number of buildings, long lost and forgotten remnants of ancient industry, and what might have been some demolished cottages, sacrificed in the name of progress as fashions changed and wealthier and more powerful men sought to push forward - even in this remote little valley - the industrial revolution. 
          Peter could not help reflecting on what he saw.  Paradise pond was created as part of that vision, though it is doubtful if those working at the mill which bore that name, would have found that it lived up to its promise, or indeed the promises of its first owner, who also built his home at the same time - the nearby Paradise Manor. 
          The mill, further down the valley had in time suffered the same fate as the drowned ruins, and for much the same reasons; 'progress?'  Hardly anything of this little bit of history remained to tell its story, apart from the beautiful and secluded lake; and that old house on the other side of the wood.
          Peter forced himself back to the business at hand. He could see the multitude waiting to witness the most historic occasion in the lifetime of any of the present inhabitants of the pond. He smiled when he thought of them all packed like sardines.

          Clarence summoned the two contestants, Frederick and Giles to approach the centre. Behind them were their massed supporters, the frogs to one side,  and the newts to the other.
 It was time, and Peter asked Clarence to open the proceedings. As he slowly circled the arena Clarence spoke to the assembled gathering in his cultured and dignified way.  There were so many that they stretched out beyond the flat area, on to the rocks and stones, with just as many it seemed, simply suspended in the water. Beyond that distance the defusing effect of the water made vision almost impossible, yet even those that far away remained.  He did not shout, yet everyone seemed to hear, just as they all understood his tongue.
          There was no agenda.  Everyone knew that there was but one item to be discussed; only one issue to fight over; and only one matter that divided them.
          The charge was undisputed, as was the accused, for in the dock proud, standing proudly upright, boastful, and looking magnificent, was Giles Clifford Newton, unrepentant and arrogant. He had, as Peter predicted, recovered from his lack of composure during the storm, and was here to defend his position as leader of the newts, and to lay claim to the ultimate throne. His ambition to be king of Paradise Pond was not disguised, and he meant to have his way.
          He knew that his only opponent was Frederick, the so called king of the frogs, who he saw as weak and ineffectual. Granted he seemed to have acquired a powerful ally, and, he acknowledged, had recently found his tongue.  But Giles no longer believed that the being from the rest of the world who had befriended the frogs was the God he claimed to be.  That thing with the lightning had been nothing more than a cheap trick, and was determined to expose him as a fraud.
          'What can stop me now?' he asked one of his leutennants, as he waited for the big event to begin. However, his trusted ally failed to respond.
          Clarence the carp, the elder statesman, had finished his opening remarks and now called for the first of the two main adversary's to state his case.  As the accuser that duty fell to Frederick, who rose nervously and moved to the centre of the arena.
          "I am Frederick, leader of the frog community." he said rather quietly.
          "A little louder if you please." Clarence was forced to interject.
          "And I accuse Giles of inciting the normally peaceful family of newts into warlike ways," he stopped to catch his breath "so that they could drive out the frogs, and who knows who else, and take over Paradise Pond."
          That was it in a nutshell.
          "What is your answer to that charge?"  Clarence enquired of Giles.
          "Not much dear boy." was Giles's glib answer.
          "Do you not defend yourself?"
          "Nothing to defend as far as I can see."
          "You are accused of incitement.  Do you not deny it?"
          "It's the natural way."
          "Not true." piped up Frederick, looking at the old carp  "The newts were never aggressive until he came"
          "They were getting pushed out, I just pushed back a bit, that's all Freddy." he answered the frog mockingly.
          "Who was pushing them out? Not us, that's for sure." Frederick ignored Gile's gibe.
          "Is there not room for you all?" asked Clarence, directing his question to both sides, but it was Frederick who answered.
          "Of course there is but he wants to rule us all."
          "Don't you?" This time Clarence's question was directed at the frog.
          "Not at all. I would happy to to lead them, but not to rule them."
          "What tosh," cut in Giles, "he's just playing with words."
          "At least I'm a frog leading frogs. You're not even the same as the other newts."
          "Of course I'm not the same; I'm an aristocrat; born to rule."
          "Are you saying that you are a different species?"  Clarence wanted to know.
          "Well not exactly different, but not quite the same either. The ordinary newts you see, well, they haven't quite got it up here."  he tapped his forehead  "Not quite up to scratch in the brain department you see, so they need our help."
          There was considerable unrest in the ranks behind as the newt population heard themselves being described as dumb and dim witted.
          "And you feel it appropriate for your kind - the Great Crested newts - to take over the leadership of a newt colony?"
          "Oh yes of course.  We have been doing it for years; all over the rest of the world. Well they can't do it for themselves you see.  It's what we are born for."
          "Do they ask for your support?"
          "We don't actually ask, but they don't say no." Giles seemed to be on top of the world, parrying one question this way and the next the other.  He was having a good time. 
          "What do you think they would say if we actually ask them?"  Clarence said rather pointedly, but before he could answer Frederick jumped up. He seemed to have overcome his nervous start, and spoke now with more passion.
          "They were happy before Giles arrived, and there was none of this trouble; we all got on fine."
          "Why don't you ask then now?" said Giles, sure of himself and turning, his fore leg at shoulder height to gesture towards his 'people'  "they'll tell you."
          "This is not the time, but I intend to do just that." Clarence said, but he had noticed a district lack of response behind Giles to that appeal.  Then he changed his line of questioning.
          "Why do you think that Frederick sought outside help in the person of Peter Crawford?"
          "I can't imagine, but in any case it's plain to see that he is a fraud."
          "A fraud you say?"
          "Yes, silly boy, of course. Well, he claims to be God doesn't he, so he must be a fraud?"
          The old carp, feeling that he had got the measure of Giles now turned his attention to Frederick.
          "Did Peter ever tell you that he was God?"
          "No ... he didn't say he was God ..." the frog was clearly uncomfortable.
          "What is it Frederick ? Please answer my question."
          "He once told me he was not God, but he knew God, and he had the power to destroy Paradise if he wanted to."
          At this there was uproar all around, and every single being in that amphitheatre came alive.  Frederick was sure he had said the wrong thing, but Peter had told him that he must answer honestly. Then he raised his front legs to try and get everyone's attention again;  "but he told me more that once that he did not want to do that. Its Just that he can if he wants to."
          "What did you think when he was kidnapped?"
          "I wished he could escape."
          "Did you mean 'wished', or did you mean 'prayed?'"
          "We don't have a God to pray to, but I wished we did."
          "What happened when he was captured?"
          "He caused the big storm."
          "That was just a cheap trick." shouted Giles
          Clarence ignored the newts outburst and continued questioning Frederick. "How do you think he caused the big storm?"

          "I don't know, maybe he has some special power."

          "It was a trick I tell you, everyone knows he is a fraud." Giles shouted again, determined to change the point of interest.  Once more he was ignored.

          "You think he has special powers; perhaps he is a God after all." He waited for Frederick to answer, but Frederick had nothing to say. He could not tell more than anyone else what powers Peter had, or where he had come from.

          "Perhaps we should hear from Peter Crawford himself" Clarence said, and waited until Peter drifted across the arena until he was close to the big flat stone.

          "Are you a God?" Clarence asked directly.

          "No I am not."

          “Can you explain what Frederick meant when he said that you could destroy us all, if you wanted to."

          "Don't believe a word he says," shouted Giles, a little anxious now. "Everything he says is a lie."

          Peter took a deep breath before he started, then very nervously he said. "What you call the rest of the world is much much bigger than you know about, and it is shared out amongst my kind so we can look after it.  So you see, there is a small 'rest of the world' - the part that you know about - and a large 'rest of the world' - the part that I know about.  The piece that I look after is this 'small' rest of the world, which includes Paradise Pond."

          Once more there was a buzz all around as each asked his neighbour on one side and then on the other side, what was it all about?

          "What does he mean?" they all wanted to know.

          "What did I tell you?" Giles burst forward until he was chin to snout with Peter. The he turned his back on him and addressed the whole congregation. "He's just a fraud; a liar and a cheat."

          He spun round again "If you are so high and mighty; if you have some special power - the power to destroy us all; let's see some proof."

          He turned his back on Peter once more and held his forelegs aloft, convinced that he had scored the fatal blow.  He was even more sure when he heard Peter say simply "No, I do not have that power myself; I am not a God."

          Giles spun round at once, jubilant and laughing "I told you so; he's a fraud."

          "I do not have that power, but my grandfather has and I am acting for him."

          "Your grandfather?" enquired Clarence. You have mentioned him before."

          "He is up there waiting for me."

          Giles could hardly restrain himself. "He's lying again. Look at him, making it up as he goes.  Tell him to bring his grandfather down then; lets see if he is any more of a God than . . ."  He didn't finish the sentence, but pointed his foreleg at Peter, then raised his head and laughed as he strode away.

          Clarence looked at the boy.  He sensed that they had reached a critical moment, for Peter's credibility was being questioned, and he could see only one way to answer that question.

          "Can you bring him down?"

          "Course I can." Peter almost shouted defiantly. He didn't quite know that was going to happen, but he was a little relieved with at the thought of his granddad by his side. At least some of the burden might be lifted.

          Quickly Peter was dispatched, with an escort drawn from random quarters to see that there was no trickery. They found Gordon just where Peter said he would be, still fast asleep, but the observers were shocked to see Peter regain his full size when he left the water and gently shook the old man’s shoulder.

          "Granddad," Peter called, "there is trouble in Paradise, you must come."

          Without any questions granddad stood up and followed his grandson and all the escort creatures back into the water.  In a trice he and Peter were small, and hand in hand they followed the pack until they reached the clearing. Clarence waited until all had found their places before he approached the older man.

          "Are you Peter's grandfather?"

          "I am."

          "Are you God?"

          "No."

          "Peter tells us that you have the power to destroy us all."

          He look rather surprised "Why did you say that Peter?"

          Before peter could answer Giles was up again. He can't do it.  Don't you see; the old man's lying now."

          Clarence ignored the interruption, looking directly at Gordon.

          "Can you?"

          "Yes of course ... but why would I want to?"

          This time it was Peter's turn to interrupt. "That's what I have been saying all along."

          Clarence turned once more to the old man. "May I know your name?"

          "Gorden Dexter."

          "Do you have a middle name?"

          "Yes, it's Orville." 

          “So your full name is Gordon Orville Dexter.”

          "That is correct"

          At this Clarence moved forward to join the three principles centre stage. Addressing the pretender to the throne he asked, "May I use your lieutenants in a little experiment?"

          "Be my guest." answered Giles, in good humour again, feeling that things were going his way. He motioned his trusty aids to come forward.

          Clarence repeated the name three times as he moved in circles around the large boulder at which the day's activities were being conducted.

          "Gordon Orville Dexter. Gordon Orville Dexter. Gordon Orville Dexter." he called out as though he was chanting. Everyone waited open mouthed. The vast assembled crowd were hushed, Peter and his grandfather, and the two protagonists standing close by were silent.  Then he stopped and motioned Giles's two minders to come forward, telling them to find some small flat stones which they could use as scrapers.
          They looked at Giles waiting for his acquiescence to the command, but Clarence spoke firmly, not allowing Giles the oportunity to intervine.
          "Please do as I say."
          Soon they returned, both carrying a hand sized piece of rock, and waited for the next instruction. Clarence moved forward until he gently nuzzled the top of the boulder, which was its only flat surface.
          "This boulder has stood where it is since the beginning of our world in Paradise, has it not?"
          It was an open question, but no one contested the statement. Everyone knew that what had been said was true. "Scrape away gentlemen."  Politeness did not disguise the authority of the command.
          The two newts started to scrape away a hundred years of accumulated settlement, dirt, and crustaceans. Plant life and animal life undisturbed during those long years clung on, determined to defeat these half hearted efforts to clear it away.
          "Scrape you lazy good for nothings." Clarence shouted as the turncoat newts, traitors to their own kind, tried to foil the efforts of the old carp, aware that something was going on, and guessing that it would not be favourable to their cause.
          "Scrape." came the shout again,  Clarence was clearly unhappy by their lack of enthusiasm.  Peter, Gordon and Frederick moved forward to help, but were stopped by Clarence.
          "No-one must touch that stone except these two miserable wretches, unless of course Giles would like to help?" Giles declined.
          The miserable wretches continued their toil, aware that in some way they were getting the backlash of Clarence's displeasure, but not quite sure why.  Not only that,  the accumulated growth was hard to move, regardless of knowing - or not knowing -  why they were doing it.
          "Scrape." came the command once more, and Peter found himself looking on with a mixture of emotions.  Firstly he had not seen Clarence so purposeful before, and he too was puzzled as to the meaning of the exercise.  Exercise it was for the two unfortunates who were visibly wilting. One could not say they were sweating in this watery world, but one could see that it was hard work.  Hard or not,  Clarence would not let them stop.
          At last some clue was emerging as the sediment was worn away to float sedately through the water in an undulating motion, swirled by a gentle current and the movement of the scrapers until it settled in a growing pile around the bottom of the flat topped stone.
          As the growth was cleared some marking became visible. A murmur of excitement seemed to work through the crowd.  Everyone knew that something was happening, and that, whatever it was, it was going to be significant. The murmur became a definite buzz, and Giles, looking distinctly uneasy now, had stopped shouting. The earlier feeling of elation when he sensed victory was fast fading, and in its place was uncertainty.
          On the top flat surface of the stone the markings were becoming clearer all the time, and it was now possible to see that they were words of some kind.  The first thing to become clear were the three First letters carved lager than the rest for they clearly spelt G O D. Suddenly there was silence amongst the countless onlookers, for as the scraping continued it was now possible to read the rest of the words.
          The silence lasted a long time, until Clarence broke the spell. Looking directly at Giles he spoke in his most authoritative voice.
          "A little while ago you cast doubt on Peter's cogency and asked for proof, and there you have it."  On top of the stone, scraped clean for all of Paradise to see was the legend 'Gordon Orville Dexter'; and then 'Paradi..' That was all, for the rest of the word was lost where the stone was broken, but there were none who did not believe it had once said Paradise.
          Peter was flabbergasted.  How on earth did Clarence know that his granddads name was carved on that stone, and why was it there anyway?.
          Once more there was uproar.
          Clarence swam about again, somehow by words and gesture calming the growing atmosphere and once more gaining silence.
          First he turned to Gordon. "That is your name?"
          "It is."
          He turned to face Giles. Who he now addressed in his most formal tone.
          "You have been found to be a disruptive influence, and as such your continued presence in Paradise is not welcome.  For the good of this place and all who live here you are asked to leave, forthwith."
          There was an immediate eruption from every quarter at this announcement, and in a moment what had been a murmur and then a buzz became a roar.
          On his face Giles displayed his anger yet he did not move. Events however were moving on, for while Gordon was puzzled, Peter and Frederick jubilant, and Giles furious, the vast population were astonished.  What they had seen was magic; nothing short of a miracle, and proof - for those who still needed it, and despite his denial - that Gordon was indeed a God.  More than that, because his name had been with them and their ancestors since the beginning of time, he was not just a God, but their God.  Now they turned on those who had been attacking him. The newts.
          Just in time, Peter and Clarence realized what was happening, as the newts found themselves surrounded by the angry mob. They moved in quickly to try to avert a massacre. But they were alarmed. So much activity by millions of fins was churning up the muddy sediment from the bottom of the pond so that it was getting harder to tell which was which, but it was clear that something had to be done.
           Shouting first to Frederick to call in all the frogs, then Star to muster his stickleback troops they pushed and shoved in order to come between the newts and their countless would be assailants. Swimming round and round they were doing their best to protect the petrified miniatures of prehistoric monsters now bereft of all aggression. Somehow they managed to create a barrier, and shouting constantly that the newts must not be hurt.  Peter, Gordon, Clarence, Frederick and Star, with all their clansmen, gradually calmed the frenzied mob, and some kind of peace was restored.
          "You have no quarrel with the newts,"  they shouted, as they kept up their guard, "they were being mistreated just like the rest of us. Only their leaders are guilty, and we will deal with them."
          The crowd gradually pulled back and as the water slowly cleared Peter was relieved to see that a tragedy had been averted.  The newts were all huddled together within a protective circle of frogs and sticklebacks. The panic over, and the business of the day concluded, Clarence thanked Gordon for being so instrumental, and wished him well, as the newly acknowledged God of Paradise. The new God of Paradise thereupon took his leave to go and find Jason, his youngest grandson.
          But what to do with Giles and his two cronies. As Peter went to consult Clarence on the matter he asked Frederick to bring them with him.
          "I thought you had them." he answered.
          "No." Peter said, "I left them with y ... "  but his words ended when he realized that in the general melee they had escaped.  Frederick and Peter went across to join Clarence and silently viewed the dock; empty of prisoners.
          "We must catch them and finish it now." offered Clarence.
          "He's right," echoed Frederick, "if we don't do what we set out to do, before we know it he'll be back, just as bad as before."
          Peter nodded "OK, here is my plan." His youth and inexperience no longer questioned.  After all, wasn't he the grandson of God?
          They started at the point were the new water entered the pond. The combined number of all the frogs and all the sticklebacks, was quite formidable. Add to that all the other fish in the pond, who had responded to the call by Clarence, the senior personage of the pond and its oldest, and now even more revered resident.  Like Frederick he had risen to the occasion, and of him all residents were justly proud,  both now being seen as a force to be reckoned with. Before they started Peter told the newts that he would understand if they did not wish to join the posse, and he was pleased to see that not one of them remained behind when they moved off.
          They spread themselves right across the western end of the lake, from the river up to the north west corner. At first they kept close to the bank, then moved forward until they reached stickleback territory on the south bank across the water right up to the shallower north bank and newt island.  They continued their search, slow and steady but inching forward, determined not to miss their quarry.  Between them with thousands of eyes, they could sweep the whole of Paradise Pond leaving no way for anything as large as a great crested newt to escape.  They searched every crook and cranny, under every stone.  Behind every leaf and beneath every sunken log.
          On, around, and behind newt island they  searched, in case there were any secret dens, where a cunning fugitive might hide. But none were found. They moved on, relentless and thorough. They reached, and swept, the deep, where the drama of the day had unfolded; and gradually they were getting closer to the points where the lake was at its narrowest.  Beyond the points the lake widened again. On the left was frog island, which, like newt island was close to the north bank. There were now too many searchers for the smaller east end of the water, and so the newts were sent home to rebuild their lives without the tyrant Giles dominating them.
          The strait across the points was well guarded to prevent the absconding trio slipping back as first the frog enclave was searched, and then the entire party moved on and down to the last part of the pond to be searched;  the south east corner of Paradise Pond. The swamp.
          This was the shallowest, muddiest, smelliest part of the pond, where all the water, fresh and invigorating when it entered Paradise, finally found itself, stale and stagnant, tired and dirty.  But it was home to the millions of the little fellows of this watery world, hardly ever seen, unloved and unsung, yet vital in the ecosystem of the lake, and on whom the lager, more exotic pond dwellers ultimately depended. Wriggly worms and multitudinous insects thrived happily in conditions which were an anathema to their larger neighbours, not least the aristocratic Giles and it was to here he had been driven. So far he had not been seen but such had been the thoroughness of the search that no one had any doubts that he was there.
          Confirmation of this was made when first one and then the second of his lieutenants were found and held, and the search continued with even more certainty of success. The searching horde pushed ever forward until almost the whole of the swamp had been covered. Most of the searchers now fell back due to lack of space, so, should Giles decide to make a run for it he would face a twenty deep gauntlet arranged like an arc around this last corner of the lake. All that was left in front of the searchers was a small pool where the water gathered, surprisingly clear, before it slid over the edge in its final dash for freedom.  It seemed reluctant to join the surge and fall the forty odd feet down the stony face of the old dam wall to reach what remained of the ancient waterway, but once free, after so long a delay, the still waters of the pond became alive again, and once more like a river.
          The dam builders had created a sluice system where the water flowed over the edge of the dam, so as to control the flow to the mill come rain or shine. Most of this was gone, as was the old mill race, its valuable stone stolen and reused in other buildings, and that once vital water way filled with rubble when the old mill was demolished.  Nature had completed the task, and now only a careful observer would see the signs of the industry that was there so long ago. What did remain was the dam itself, built strong to last forever, with it top stones smoothed by the constant unending rush of water as the dam tried to empty itself. Two hundred and more years growth of moss and slimy organisms had further hidden what little remained of the old workings. The gradual build up of grasses and other vegetation all around had reduced the gap through which the water squeezed to leave Paradise for all time, to only three or four feet.  This caused a surprisingly strong spout to leap into space before gravity and wind sent it tumbling and twisting into a cascade of a million droplets falling falling, followed by a million more, and then another million, for ever and ever.
          Out of nowhere, mysteriously, joyously, when it reached the river below it was revitalized as it danced and sang, glad once more to continue on its long journey to the sea, perhaps in a hurry to see what new adventures lay in wait.