There is something about the transitory, enigmatic nature of the following little story that charms me. I always enjoy those moments when The Weird suddenly appears, slaps you in the face with a dead fish, and just as quickly and inexplicably vanishes for good.
Our tale takes place on a pleasant English Sunday, May 5, 1924. A young woman named Betty Bone went on the bicycle ride of 15 miles or so from her lodgings in Breamore, Hampshire to visit her family in Southampton. However, along the way she had been bothered by “gipsies” demanding money, so her brother Alf and a friend, Ewart Pole, volunteered to accompany her back home. The roads were virtually empty, and it was a clear, sunny day.
The trio was cycling along what is now the B3078 when, near the entrance to the Bramshaw golf course, they observed something odd. Walking along the side of the road in the same direction was a man. They were a bit surprised to suddenly see him--as one of them later put it, “He just appeared.” Normally, this would hardly merit notice, except that the man was wearing a curiously old-fashioned long frock coat and wide-brimmed top hat. And he was tall--very tall. At least seven feet tall. Betty and her companions noted the strange fellow, shrugged, and continued on.
A quarter of a mile later, the three were a bit disconcerted to see ahead of them the same freakishly tall man walking briskly towards Fordingbridge. They soon cycled past him--perhaps pedaling just a bit faster than they had before.
It was as they neared the junction with the Fritham-Nomansland road that their emotions went from bemusement to genuine fear. They saw the tall man 20 yards ahead of them, walking with the same purposeful, yet unhurried gait. The trio blew past him as quickly as they could, not slowing down until they reached Betty’s home.
As one can imagine, the two young men did not enjoy their return journey, but there was no sign of the tall man in the frock coat, and, as far as is recorded, he was never seen by anyone again.
That story reminded me of something that happened when I was eleven. I used to take a shortcut through the gardens of a hospital near my home, walking along a tree-lined street and past a sports complex to get to school. One day, a tall woman standing at the garden entrance caught my eye because she was wearing a long brown winter coat on a warm spring day. She fixed a vacant stare on me; I felt afraid and quickened my pace, leaving her behind. When I left the gardens and reached the tree-lined street, she was ahead of me, walking slowly. I found it strange that she had managed to overtake me without my noticing, especially since there was only one exit gate from the hospital grounds. I crossed the street to avoid the woman, and she gave me that strange look again. She stayed on the opposite sidewalk while I hurried ahead, putting a good distance between us, and turned onto the street with the sports complex, leaving her behind once more. As I approached the complex, there she was—standing in front of the wall, watching me! It was impossible for her to have gotten there so quickly without me seeing her. So, I started running without looking back until I reached school, breathless and terrified. I walked home with a group of classmates; I never saw the woman again, and I never used that shortcut through the hospital gardens again. Perhaps she and the tall man share the same mysterious origin.
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