The Green Man of Pounds Park

AS WE PREPARE TO MARK HALLOWEEN TOMORROW, CITY WRITER SHANE SCOTT SHARES A STORY ABOUT A BOY'S SPOOKY ADVENTURE IN A PLYMOUTH PARK

DANNY was a smart kid. He had a quick mind and was keen to learn. He loved nearby Central Park with its trees and birds and butterflies – and lots of places to play football.

One late October Saturday, Danny was walking in the park with his mother, younger sister Lily and dog Brutus. They were walking in a section of the park called Pounds Park after the big house, sadly now in disrepair, that stood nearby.

The weather was mild, but there was a damp chill in the air. The broadleaved trees had taken on an orange tinge, a sign their leaves would soon turn brown and be torn from the branches by the autumn winds.

As they crossed the upper level of the park, they ran into old Mr Scullin who lived in their street.

‘Have you seen the Green Man of Pounds Park?’ Mr Scullin asked Danny.

‘Nope,’ Danny replied, pretending not to be interested.

‘Here, let me show you.’

Scullin guided the little party a few steps from the path and pointed at an old dead tree. ‘There he is.’

‘Where? I can’t see him,’ Danny shrugged.

‘There, on the trunk of this old tree. Look, there’s his chin, and his mouth, and his nose. And there are his eyes.’

‘Oh, yeah! Wow! I’ve been past here lots of times, but I never noticed that face before.’

‘There’s a story connected to the Green Man,’ Mr Scullin went on. ‘But it’s a bit scary. I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘Go on, tell us! Tell us!’