Honey Due's Blog, page 4

Lake Side View #1

I used to think other people didn’t see us. It wasn’t really anything in particular that got me thinking those thoughts. Those strange, lukewarm thoughts that always came to me on that cold park bench. Our bench.

Not through some special arrangement. Not that we meant for it to be ours. We were never those people. But somehow, each time we got there, it was always empty. I think we sat on it by chance, the first couple of times. And then, after that, it felt like we should at least check if ‘our bench’ was free. If it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a big deal. We’d just go down, sit by the lake, or… but that’s the thing, it was never occupied. Like someone knew we were coming there and kept it unoccupied on purpose. Like that someone was, in a strange way, waiting just for us.

Or something.

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All I can tell you is it felt special. ‘Cause we’d never had anything like that before, nobody ever waited for either of us. We were never first in class, or first in our parents’ eyes. And I suppose it was alright for me. I was the third of four children, it was sorta obvious I’d never get noticed. I didn’t particularly shine in any one aspect of my life and that was alright, I was used to blending in. I was good at it. And besides, less attention means less getting in trouble, right?

But I suppose it was tougher on Will. Because Will was an only child and I think it’s much harder to blend in when there’s no one else around. I can just see it, those long dinners, the kitchen light bulb always a little dim, like it wasn’t lighting up the whole kitchen on purpose. Like it liked playing with the shadows. And his parents, on either end of the table. That was something always puzzled me about the Cranes. They never, for as long as I knew them, ate or for that matter sat within touching distance.

I suppose that tells you something, but I guess I was too young to notice. Young. In love. Call it what you will.

Point is, we were alright with not being seen. We’d go and sit on our little wooden bench – that nobody’d scrawled on, no cans left around. Like somebody took care of it for us when we were not there. And when we got sitting there, it no longer felt like we were in the park. Like there was anyone around. It felt…like fire. Like being swallowed up inside your very own forest. And it was weird, because sometimes, I’d get the strangest ideas sitting on that bench. I told you, voices. Or did I?

I suppose it doesn’t matter, you’ll know the whole story soon enough. All in good time.

I used to become really certain that we were inside the woods, you know, even though I knew, in my head, that we were a few feet from civilization, that we’d come down the concrete road and then stepped off into the grass and that we were alright. But that never mattered when I got those ideas in my head. And I used to be so convinced that we were lost. Because once you’re lost in the forest, that’s it for you, you know? There’s no one coming to save you, not until it’s too late. And it would be far too late for me and Will.

I felt so certain then and Will would always try to comfort me, to calm me down, to tell me everything was alright and that we weren’t, in fact, lost.

But one day, Will disappeared and after that, it got a whole lot harder believing we were alright. I waited for Will on that day. It was a Friday and we were both out early. Me from school and him from his job. Will was too young to have a job, but nobody asked him. And the Cranes never knew what their son got up to in all those afternoons when they were breaking their backs for college money. Suppose it served them right. I’ve never met a more unlikable couple than the Cranes.

So, Will had quit school in the winter, right before break. I mean, he showed up every now and then, but it just wasn’t the same. He convinced the headmaster his father was violent, that his mother was going through a hard time. I don’t know. Sometimes, even Will got lost in all the stories he told.

Anyway, he didn’t formally quit, you know? Because then, his father would have really killed him. Mr. Crane was many things, and while not actually a violent man, there was something wrong inside his soul. Like something gone bad in there that he didn’t quite know how to let out.

But Will didn’t show up that afternoon. I waited and I waited and after a while, I called. And you know what the worst part about waiting like that was? That I felt like people could see me. Because my eyes had nowhere to go, nothing to look at, so they just sort of…drifted. And every now and then, they’d meet other eyes. A girl in the bushes, a boy writing in a notebook. People. But they’re not important. No one’s important to the story, just Will.

And Will wasn’t there.

He didn’t answer and he didn’t call back, so that when it got really dark, I had no choice but to go home. Nobody asked where I’d been or why I was out so late and I don’t know what I would’ve said if they did.

The next day, walking up the hill, I saw him. Sitting on the bench, looking down at the ducks below. And he was him, he was alright, not worse for wear. Not better. He didn’t say anything about why he’d been gone and I didn’t know how to ask. Every time I tried to say it, it felt as if my mouth didn’t want to articulate the words. It seemed so unreal that he’d missed one day. Because he never did that before and I was afraid that if I said anything, he’d miss another. He could and I used to think he wouldn’t, but now I no longer knew what to think.

The day after he disappeared, Will showed me a trick that he’d just thought up. He made up a flower, where there hadn’t been one before, like magic. And I didn’t laugh. I was really, really still. Because it’s not a good idea to play around with magic like that and all I could see, when I looked at that blood-red rose, were the walls crumbling down.

So, I thought really hard and I concentrated everything into that rose and for a while, everything was alright again.

For a while.

 

To Be Continued

 

 

Cara #9

 

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The beast runs and they don’t know. They don’t know what happens behind them, whether the shadows live or die, whether somebody looks for them still, because it feels as if they’ve been running for years. To Cara, it feels as if she’s been holding on for so long that she can no longer feel the skin of her fingers. She keeps thinking that she might slip, that the beast’s fur might evade through her fingers and she might be lost forever in this dead world. And then, the cold would come back again, because she feels now, but for how long?

The memory of the dead is visceral, woven so deeply inside her, inside her stomach and her bones that she fears it might never go completely away. She can’t shake off the horror of being alive, yet feeling nothing at all, of looking out into the world through lifeless eyes. The cold, and she fears one day she might have to be feel so cold again.

And the beast listens to the little girl’s thoughts. It always has. The beast knows Cara better than Cara knows herself, perhaps. It knows of Christopher and it knows why she came to its forest that day. It knows that her one-eyed doll has no name, yet now, she wonders if it ought to. It knows many things.

Just like it knew, when it heard the footsteps – small, delicate feet – echoing out through its dark forest, that there was danger. And it tried to tell the child, to warn her of the man who was coming for her, that she’d been called up early and that the people in the glass city did not wish her well. It tried to protect her, to keep her within its forest for a little while longer. But it failed.

And the beast knows that now, it will not fail again.

It was the sound of her heart beating that first drew the beast close to Cara. It heard this noise made by some lost, kindred spirit and it drew near, perhaps for warmth, perhaps to escape the all-encompassing loneliness biting into its’ soul. Because it heard Cara come into existence, it sensed her, and understood it would not be lonely anymore. That this friend was alive now and quite close by. And it had lived inside the deep dark forest that encased Cara from the world and it guarded Cara, called out to Cara, waiting for the day when the girl would dare to walk into its forest.

Cara’s eyes open again and she sees the forest before her, those dark familiar woods she was afraid of for so long. But not anymore, for now she understands. She’s seen there’s nothing to fear within the forest, and that the only thing she really should be scared of are the people lurking outside. The dead of Olympus and presumably, of other places, those touched by the cold, whom she never wants to meet again.

‘I don’t want to leave here again,’ she tells the beast, as they’re approaching the old house. It’s let her off now, and Cara is shaky, her feet suddenly too thin beneath her, too un-strong.

But they both know that is impossible. She will have to leave again, if not now, soon. The woods were not meant to last forever and now that the beast’s watch over her is ended, the days of the woods are numbered.

‘Thank you for coming for me. For saving me,’ she tells the beast and turns to look at it, into its white eyes and sees she was wrong. They are not dead eyes, not in the slightest, they’re as bright and burning as her own, they show her a soul that is hurt, but live, reaching out for her.

They stand on the edge of the woods, looking into the clearing where Cara sees her old life and it’s remarkable. Because so much has changed inside her mind, so many things have happened. And yet, she’s only been gone two days. Two days is not a lot, yet it feels like the longest time.

And nothing has changed inside the forest and the house is perfectly still. Inside, nanny is sitting in her chair by the window that looks out on the forest, only on the other side, so that she can’t see Cara looking in, but Cara can see her clearly. And she thinks of how much she’s hated her guardian and of how much worse it can get.

Cara steps out of the woods and into the clearing that surrounds her house, because she’s tired and hungry. She would like food like the one nanny makes, food that doesn’t taste like dirt and a bed to sleep in where it’s warm and she’s safe, if even for a little while.

But before she can take another step, a hand wraps around her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin, not unkind, yet not allowing her to go further. And she turns around and for a second, thinks it might be her new friend who stops her, the beast who wasn’t a beast, after all. But when she looks up, instead of the beast, she sees him and thinks she’s dreaming. That she’s gone mad because of the cold and lack of food, but she hasn’t.

It’s really Christopher, mostly hidden by a tall, thick tree. And he comes around the tree and picks her up into his arms and it’s been so long since Christopher’s seen her, since the last time he held her in his arms. He steps back into the forest, where the beast watches them from amid the shadows.

‘I missed you,’ he smiles and looks at her, how she’s grown and it feels as if he hasn’t seen her in a thousand years.

‘And I missed you,’ Cara replies, through tears.

‘I heard. There were rumors about a girl being taken to Olympus, that you were coming to save everyone and I ran here, but when I asked nanny, they’d already taken you. I should’ve never gone away, but I never thought they’d come for you this soon. This wasn’t supposed to happen for years yet and I was meant to be here when it happened. But I wasn’t. And that’s all that matters now, I suppose.’

He’s blabbering and Cara can not understand. There is too much he says and the words fly her by, some of them. But he knows that, so he slows down until she can understand him again.

‘What happened? You have to tell me first, okay? And then, I’ll tell you everything I can.’

So, Cara breathes in and tells him about the tall, gray man whose name was Roger and about how he was wrong, though she doesn’t really know how or what about. And how they waited for them in the field and the food that tasted like dirt, and how they were going to kill her, but then she found the beast and how she thought the beast had captured Christopher and how she’d ran after him and left doll and teddy behind, except now she has them again.

‘I thought that would happen one day, I never trusted that man, those people in Olympus. Remember, I told you a story once, Cara, about that man who lived on a mountain and would turn into a mortal every once in a while and come down on Earth?Well, the thing is, in those stories, those people and that man I told you about, they were gods. Which meant they were really special and really strong and smarter and better than normal people. And their mountain was known as Olympus. That was long ago, though.

‘A few years back, before you were born, something awful happened. People started feeling cold, all of a sudden. Not in the normal way, though, but from the inside out, like their heart was slowly freezing over. And nobody knew why it was happening, but this…illness started to spread. And all sorts of folk started feeling very, very cold and they all grew very scared. And some people decided to build a town and it would be beautiful and impressive and more magnificent than anyone had ever seen. And they would be safe there, from the cold. And they decided to call that town Olympus, because they said they would be like gods themselves. Untouchable.

‘But they were wrong, Cara. They thought they could be smarter than they really were, stronger than they could be. But the cold started seeping in through the people of the city and they started to die, because once someone’s cold for long enough, they start to die.’

Christopher takes a breath and looks out toward the house, because maybe he could find his words there, floating in the air before him.

‘Your nanny was the first to fall ill. At least, in Olympus. So, she was the person who’d had the cold longest. And I guess that should’ve told them something, in all these years, but it didn’t. Because people like to hope, they like to make stories in their head where everything will be alright in the end.

 

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‘So that when you were born, everyone in Olympus was shocked. Because although everything else in the city was dying, the flowers, the food, the people, you were so very much alive. You were warm, for start, and they were all surprised because it had been so long since they’d felt that kind of warmth. But then, your parents started looking livelier, too, they were red in the cheeks again, they were happier than usual, more real. And then, they let you out into the garden once, when you were a small baby, they laid you out in the grass. And the grass became green beneath you, it became alive again.

‘And they thought maybe you could do that to them, too. Because you were a baby then, but you were alive, you weren’t affected by the cold. So they thought that maybe – ’

It’s a moment that Christopher has envisioned for years and now that it’s finally here, he’s scared to say it. What if the spell is broken and the girl isn’t saved? And how can he tell her about it without also telling her about his involvement in the plan?

‘They thought maybe if they shut you away in there,’ he nods towards the old house, ‘maybe then, you wouldn’t lose this…magic and then, you’d grow up and come back to Olympus and then save them all and make them live again. Except you’re not magical, are you, Cara? At least, not in the way they think. You’re not touched by the cold, there’s something in you that can resist it and I think they would’ve taken you into a lab and opened you right up to study you if they weren’t so afraid of breaking you, in the process. So, they shut you in here, instead. They thought they were contagious. Everyone was contagious. And yet, someone had to look after you. I think they chose nanny because she was cold even before things started dying. Because there’s a stone inside nanny that nothing could quite shift. And besides, I think they figured if you could spend so much time with nanny and still keep warm, then there really was a power in you. That’s what they were trying to see in that field, if the flowers came back to life, then there was hope. I suppose they grew mad when they saw it wouldn’t work. Because what good are you if you can’t bring them back to life as well?

‘I don’t know why they chose me, though. But I’m glad they did. They took me into a room – that gray suit who came to get you and all his creepy friends – and they made me swear I wouldn’t talk to you. They thought that’s how the cold spread. Through dialogue. It was the only thing that everyone seemed to have in common. But when I came here, when I saw that you weren’t some perfect doll, but just a little girl. A baby, who had no friends and no one ever talked to you, I realized how ludicrous it all was. But they didn’t seem to agree with that. They were so scared of anything that could break you and make you like them. Like us.’

Christopher grows quiet and when Cara catches his eye again, she sees fat tears, full of pain, rolling down his cheeks.

‘You’re not cold.’

He can’t be. Because if her Christopher, her only real friend is dead, then who’ll look after her then? Who will talk to her when everyone grows quiet?

‘Not when I’m with you, no. I don’t know why it didn’t work with the flowers, but it works with me. I’m always warm when I’m here. When I’m away, not so much. You must’ve noticed just now, when I touched you, I was colder than how you normally know me. That’s how I am, really. I’m like them, Cara.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. But it’s not important, Cara. I don’t matter, though I will stay with you, as long as you need me. As long as I can. You need to focus, Cara, you need to listen. You need to find others like you, because they are there. There are rumors. Not everywhere, but in enough places, of people born warm. Of children who are live. And other creatures.’

Christopher’s eyes dart toward the beast and Cara finally understands. Why it was drawn to her and why she, in turn, was drawn towards the forest. The beast, too, is warm, alive and looking for its brothers and sisters. And now, she must look for them also. They will stay in the forest for the night, because the forest will keep them safe. The earth beneath them is alive also, and conspires to save its living children. The woods will cover them when the people from the glass tower come looking.

And tomorrow, they will leave here forever. Because she knows now there are others like her. Others who no one’s ever spoken to. Others who’ve grown up alone, playing in the grass, under the watchful eye of the dead. Others who are still alive.

And she must find them.

The End. (for now)

 

Want more? My collection of stories, Grimmest Things, is available now on Amazon.

Cara #8

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They were all gone now, they’d left Cara to sit by herself with her bowl of dirt on the floor beside her and with teddy and doll still cradled in her lap. She was cold now, the floor was hard and freezing. She tried sitting on the bed, even getting under the thick blanket that must’ve been pink once, but was now a faded, sad brown. But nothing helped her get the blood flowing in her hands again, so by the time the knock on the door came, she was twisting her fingers, trying to get them warm once more.

He stood in the doorway and said nothing for a while, just stared at the upturned bed, the blanket on the floor and the little girl who had dragged herself into the furthermost corner. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the two of them, or at least the man seemed to think so.

‘I won’t hurt you,’ he said eventually and closed the door behind him. ‘I’m not here to hurt you, though I think others might want to.’

He picked up the blanket and offered it to Cara, but seeing she didn’t want it, he put it back on the bed and sat down on the floor. Though not beside her. He could see she didn’t want him close to her.

‘Time’s almost up, Cara, and I’m worried. What we thought would happen…it didn’t happen. I screwed up, it seems, and now I’m afraid. I can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head, of course, but inside mine, there’s chaos. There’s not a silent moment in my head just now, Cara. And I’m worried about what might happen.’

The man had changed, Cara noticed. He was no longer made of ice, though he wasn’t too warm either. And he was scared, just like he said, that much wasn’t a lie.

‘I promised I’d tell you my name if you ever needed to use it and while I don’t know if you ever will, I’d like for you to know my name, Cara. I’d like it if you could remember me, once this is all over, if that’s not too much to ask.’

For just a second, he reminded her of Christopher, though she’d never thought that was possible. He was the furthest thing from her Christopher, and yet there was something in his eyes that reminded her of him.

‘Roger. My name is Roger, Cara. And I am truly glad to have known you, just a little. I never meant for it to come to this, I never wanted to hurt you and I want you to know that. But people are selfish sometimes, I was selfish, we all were. But that’s not your fault. I’m sorry. For everything. For nanny. For the words I took from you, for your life so far and for what’s about to happen next.’

But what was supposed to happen next? Cara couldn’t understand the change in this man, the surrender inside him and it frightened her. Who would they be, come tomorrow?

They waited in the room, in the quiet, in the cold, although the man didn’t seem to be aware of it. They waited for the time to pass and Cara wished she could trust him enough to ask him what he meant by that.

But she couldn’t and she was feeling sleepy. she’d fallen asleep earlier, after the man had first left her, but she’d slept with her back to the wall, teddy and doll still in her arms, held firmly, for fear they might catch whatever these people were suffering from. And she slept a troubled sleep, broken in by uneasy dreamers, by violence like she’d never seen before. And it felt so close to her, lapping at her heels, and it was suffocating. And then, she dreamed of the beast and remembered it and wondered what had happened to it and where it was, if it had journeyed into this sunless world after her or had just let her be. Because maybe there’s place where not even the hungriest monsters will journey for prey. Maybe.

And she’d woken up, understanding it wasn’t enough. That regardless how much she tried to fight it, the cold was getting into her. It wasn’t the room that was that way, but it was coming from the inside. And while she was warm still, she wasn’t as warm as she used to be. She felt inside her that her light was fading, that the stories in her head were dying. She sat, not really seeing the man sat beside her, and tried to focus on her one-eyed doll. Had it had a name ever? No, how could it?

Martha…but Martha was someone else. It was all wrong, but the thoughts in her head were becoming bleary and she couldn’t focus. A man, but who was he? What did he want? Who was he speaking to and about and what were they waiting for?

She was so…tired. She wanted to go to bed so badly, but she couldn’t even remember the bed at her old house, the one she’d slept in for years. What years? When?

And suddenly, she was there. The woman with the hair like Cara’s, the one who’d given her dirt to eat. Martha. She was standing in the doorway and she was frowning at them both, because maybe she hoped she could burn through them with her eyes. She was angry with them and her face looked like something out of a nightmare, distorted into a terrible mask of hatred. But hatred for what?

It didn’t make any sense to Cara. If only she could get warm again.

‘It’s time,’ Martha said, ‘Roger, the twenty four hours have passed. We’re all waiting for you downstairs.’

Roger looked at Cara, as if asking her to handle this one. But this one wasn’t hers and she couldn’t.

‘I want to test something first.’

‘Fine, we will wait, though don’t be long. They won’t wait forever.’

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But that wasn’t true. Martha wouldn’t wait forever, there was blood in her eyes and it had to be released somehow.

‘No, I mean I want to go to the field.’

‘What, now?’

‘Yes, now, I want to take Cara to the field, I have a theory. An idea and I want to see what will happen and if I’m wrong, we’ll turn right back and then, everyone can see her and decide what’s to be done with her.’

He was lying. Cara could feel her blood freeze over and goosebumps on her skin. He was lying, but he was scared and his fear was betraying him.

‘Fine,’ Martha nodded, but she was lying as well. It wasn’t fine and Cara was afraid they wouldn’t be allowed to go. Because only if she could get to the field and then a little further, there she’d feel the sun again and she’d be warm again. She just wanted to feel warm.

The man held Martha’s gaze until she left the room and then whispered to Cara. ‘Come on, let’s go. We have to hurry now.’

But for all the hurrying they’d do, it still wouldn’t be enough. They walked out of the room into an equally dim, cold corridor and then down the stairs, into the great big hallway where Cara had first arrived. It had been twenty-four hours. And whatever they’d waited for hadn’t happened.

Cara felt Roger’s hand squeeze into hers and he pulled her along faster.

‘Come on,’ he said again and shuffled her into the car. Not even stopping to strap her into the seat. She pulled on the cord he’d pulled on, but it just slid back behind her and then, he was beside her in the car and they were moving and so, she stood still. But it was all wrong, she realized, as she took her last look at this great glass building on the edge of Olympus. It was all deserted. They said they were waiting for them, but there hadn’t been any heartbeats in the building as they’d gone. Cara hadn’t heard a single one. It had just been them, somehow, even though there were supposed to be many others just…waiting for them.

‘They’re waiting for us.’

The man’s eyes grew wide and he shot a look at Cara. He was surprised, though not shocked, because he’d known she could do it. He didn’t know if that was what had ruined his experiment, but he knew.

‘What do you mean?’

‘No people there,’ she said, turning in her seat a little to point at the glass building. ‘They’re waiting in the field.’

‘No.’

The breath seemed to go out of him just then, like he’d been kicked in the stomach with something really heavy. Cara nodded, because she didn’t see what else she could do.

‘No, no, no. Shit. I’m sorry, Cara. I should’ve known they’d never let us do it, that they’d never let us leave. I was going to take us out of here, take you back home, where you’d be safe, at least for a bit. But they’re not going to allow that.’

‘Why?’

And despite the cold, Cara’s heart was on fire. So many strange things were happening. She was talking to someone who wasn’t Christopher, here, in a moving car. And there were bad people and they were there, in the field, waiting.

‘Because they want to kill you, Cara. You deserve to know at least that. They want to kill you because they think you failed them, they think you didn’t do what you promised to do. But if there’s anyone they should kill, it’s me. Because I was the one who promised, not you. I told them you were the key. But now, I don’t think you’re the key anymore. And they want to kill you for it, to punish you. I’m sorry.’

And as the car rolled past the now empty streets, Cara could see them in her head. The people in the glass building, all standing in the road ahead of them. It was just them, because they’d told everyone else to stay inside now. Because otherwise, the people would kill them as well, those in the glass building. They were waiting, Martha and the old man and all the others. And they were waiting to kill her, although why she didn’t really know. But what was truly interesting about the picture, wasn’t the people themselves, but what was behind them.

Slightly to the left and not quite inside the field of dead flowers, there were white eyes waiting for her.

‘We have to go there,’ she said, opening her eyes. She worried, a little, that her words sounded wrong.

‘Why? We can’t.’

The car had slowed down considerably. They weren’t at the field just yet, but it was lurking somewhere in the distance.

We have to. Someone waiting for me there. Behind them.’

‘How do you know that?’

Cara looked at his frowning face and noticed some of the blood had come back into his cheeks. Except no, it was just an illusion of blood, a distant memory.

‘I know.’

And he believed her, because what else could he do? There would be no going back for them and for him, not much of a going-forward. As they entered the field of fallen flowers and he began seeing their shapes in the distance, he understood what he had to do. There were cars on the side of the field and undoubtedly, inside those cars, there were guns. They wouldn’t make it far, not out in the open road.

But Cara must’ve known that, as well, which meant she wouldn’t be going by the open road.

‘I’m so sorry, Cara, I want you to know that. Here, pull on that strap and – no, don’t. Just, hold on to the door there, okay? Hold on.’

And she did, she wrapped her fingers around the handle on the door as tightly as she could and hoped the crash wouldn’t hurt them too much. In her other hand, she held her toys, her only friends beside Christopher. And now, this man. She’d brought them so far with her, it would be a betrayal to abandon them now.

‘Roger,’ she said and when she looked up, she was struck by the gratitude in his eyes. ‘Thank you.’

The man in gray did something he hadn’t done in many many years then, he smiled. ‘You’re welcome, Cara.’

The people in the road never once thought the car wouldn’t stop before them, which is why they kept standing right there, in the middle of the road, until the car crashed into them, catching Martha full on. There was no blood, though. Roger would have to kill for her before their journey was over. Cara had known this from the very first moment she’d seen him. But now, she saw he would only have to kill shadows. Because that was all these people were. Shadows of what once used to be people.

As the car sent five bodies flying into the air and the others running for the fields, Roger and Cara both noticed the beast, its white eyes watching them, greeting them. Because the beast had known they would come this way sooner or later and had been waiting to scoop up its rightful prey.

They drove for a while longer and the beast followed. They couldn’t stop there, otherwise the people in the cars would shoot them. And Cara and the beast would have no chance to get away.

When he could no longer see them in the rear-view mirror, Roger stopped the car and turned to Cara.

He would’ve liked to thank her, for the heat he now felt in his cheeks, even for a little while, but he didn’t need to. She knew.

She knew.

And he hadn’t been wrong, after all, about her. He’d been wrong about himself and about Martha and about all the other dead people.

‘Are you sure?’

But they both knew there was no other way. The cars would be coming after them eventually. Roger could only keep her safe so far.

‘Okay.’

They got out of the car and saw that the beast had come to the very edge of the road and was waiting for them. It wasn’t quite so terrifying in the daylight. It was tall, but its movement was not unkind. Its teeth were sharp and its claws could sink deep. Though that was not true for everyone. It laid down, offering its back to Cara, who didn’t know how to do this.

‘Here,’ Roger offered, taking off his belt and holding it out to Cara. She let him take teddy and doll from her hand and he strapped them tight around her belly. And that was that, Cara sat on the beast’s back fearfully, telling herself there really was no other way and she looked back at Roger, with tears in her eyes and then, they were gone. The beast ran fast with the little girl on its back. Soon, there was no trace of Roger behind them, as they rushed through the back roads and into the woods.

To Be Continued…

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Cara #7

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The man’s hand was twitching and he didn’t seem to know. He was staring ahead, sitting on the bed Cara was supposed to sit on while Cara sat on the floor, cradling teddy and doll in her lap. She was afraid to set them on the floor, thought they might disappear, though she wasn’t quite sure how she had come to that conclusion. It didn’t matter, she just knew that the darkness outside had a way of seeping in through the walls, the floor. Nowhere was safe on this side of the forest, not even the people were safe. Because Cara knew what it was now, that thing that had scared her when she first saw the man, that feeling that something was seeping in, something cold that made her want to crawl back in the darkness under the stairs.

They were cold. The people, not just the man, but Martha also, and the old man at the back who’d thought maybe Cara couldn’t speak. They were sick, though how sick Cara didn’t know. Just that there was something wrong in them and that she didn’t like being here, she wanted to go, to run, to get away from here and back to the house, back to anywhere as long as these people couldn’t find her.

But the man knew nanny and nanny didn’t seem to have the power to stop him, so going back to the house would be no good. She would’ve liked to tell this stranger. Even though he was one of them, he seemed to be in trouble just now, he seemed scared, like he was waiting for something he already knew would happen.

Maybe he didn’t want the twenty-four hours to end either.

Cara was hungry, but she didn’t know how to tell this man she was hungry. They didn’t want her to speak, that much was clear. It had been there, in the old man’s vicious eyes when he’d made his accusations. He wanted her to speak, to cry out that she could in fact talk, as if that would prove some sick point he was trying to make. Maybe if she talked, they wouldn’t even wait for the twenty-four hours to pass, and then what?

She’d never had to ask for food before. At the house, there were strict rules, there was order, there was a schedule to be followed, day in and day out. When Cara would come inside, nanny would go and cook, although she could’ve cooked while Cara was outside, it wasn’t like she would go anywhere, like she needed a guard. But that didn’t matter now, she reminded herself. She had to pull herself back into this dull, lifeless world and she found it harder with each passing breath. It was easy to slip into her old mind, into dreams about the old house, about nanny, about her life and how she’d thought her life would always be, before this stranger came knocking on their door and took Cara away.

But here she was now. No sense in dwelling on what might have been. No sense in dwelling on what never was. Because the man’s hand was twitching and he was trying to tell her something.

And Cara stared, waiting for him to speak, hoping he would notice her looking and he did. He looked up slowly at her, eyes tracing the girl’s thin lips, her dark hair, and her eyes that seemed to be asking him silent questions.

‘I hope I’m not wrong. About you. I hope to God I’m not wrong, but I don’t know now. Maybe you can speak after all. Not your nanny, she wouldn’t so blatantly break the rules. But maybe the boy, maybe it slipped out of him. I told them, I did. I told them it wouldn’t be a good idea to allow him there, he was too much of the outside world and you can’t really trust people like him, anyways. What does he know what’s at stake here? What could he possibly understand? I’m not saying it’s your fault, though, Cara,’ and his voice seemed to soften just then. ‘You could…do something. I mean, you wouldn’t have to tell me, if he did speak to you and he wouldn’t be in trouble, I promise. I just have to know. We couldn’t touch him if we wanted to. We don’t even know where he is. And it wouldn’t matter anyway.’

And the man got up off the bed just then and came and sat really close to Cara. His hand wasn’t twitching anymore, but he was even more scared now, and he starting speaking really quietly to her, leaning in as he spoke and it still wasn’t enough for Cara to hear properly.

‘I need to know if you can speak. Would you put your teddy on the floor if you can speak? I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just need to…if I’m wrong about this, Cara, I need a few hours to prepare. For both of us. Because you’ll be in a lot of trouble if I’m wrong, I need to find a way to get us out of this.’

But he was lying, Cara felt certain. He had no intention of getting Cara out of anything, though she didn’t even see what the trouble was. He was only interested in saving himself, because he’d lied. Or maybe he hadn’t lied, but he had told an un-truth. Cara closed her eyes and saw the man, though something was different about him in her eyes. It wasn’t so much that he was younger, although that was true also, but that he was less dead, there was still color in his flesh, even though it was dying. And in her mind, she saw the man breathing, scared of something, of his own terrible beast in the woods perhaps, she listened as he made promises though she couldn’t make out the words. He was promising something to people and she recognized, among the crowd, the old man and the woman and the other man and Martha. But there was light setting behind them and suddenly, she knew what was different. There was light in her head, there was a sun that existed behind them and they listened desperately to the promises this man made. And they agreed, but their agreement was dangerous. It was something they could always take away and the man had known that.

And maybe that’s what had happened just now, maybe they’d stopped agreeing with him and that’s why they’d sent him to get Cara now, because they’d changed their minds. And their minds had something to do with Cara. Somehow.

‘Cara.’

She opened her eyes to this older, stranger man staring at her, almost begging her to drop teddy on the cold floor, to tell him that yes, he’d been wrong, that she could speak and that she was sorry and could he please save her from all this trouble that was coming her way?

But he wouldn’t save her, and besides, she would never do that to teddy, because once the darkness got into you, it could never get out. Never. She saw that from the way these people moved, how they talked to one another and how this dead man’s hand twitched. There was no saving from what had happened to them. But they believed there was. Now, only if she could understand why they thought it would be anything to do with her.

She pulled doll and teddy tighter to her, desperate all of a sudden to feel them against her skin, to feel safe again.

The man bit his lip and nodded. he’d expected just such a thing.

‘I thought our guest would like some food.’

Neither of them had heard the door open behind them, but there she was. Not Martha, but the other woman with light hair and skin that had once been beautiful. But now she looked like she was suffering, too. Like there were horrible worms trying to claw their way through her face. And she tried to hide that, the red spots like volcanoes blighting her skin, she tried to seem perfect and the others tried to see her as such.

She was carrying a white tray with two dark bowls on it, but when she came closer and set the tray before Cara, the girl saw there was nothing there but dirt. And she wondered if this was some strange joke, maybe they were trying to scare her, maybe they thought that if they kept her hungry, she would eventually speak. She looked into the bowl of earth and shook her head.

‘Alright, well, I’ll leave this here, in case you change your mind.’

But the smile had disappeared from the woman’s lips and when Cara looked over at the man, she saw that he too was watching in disgust and at first, she thought it was because he’d seen the dirt and he understood how wrong this was. But he didn’t.

And she realized that they were both, in fact, disgusted with her. Because they knew why she wouldn’t eat their food, they knew she saw dirt in their bowls. And it occurred to her that they did not.

To be continued…

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Cara #6

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The first thing she noticed were the dead flowers. Scattered across the fields of Olympus, fallen, but there. Millions and millions of dead flowers stooped, adorning the entryway to the city, as if no one had been able to come take them away, to pick them out and clean the field. Probably because the people inside the city knew that nothing else would grow there. So, dead flowers was all they had now.

And they waited inside with baited breath, hoping some miracle would happen, that the flowers would spring up once more. That their own lives would spring out once more. But as the car rolled into Olympus, there were no miracles, no hard to believe resurrections, no sun coming out from behind the clouds for the people of Olympus. Mainly because those up there were no longer clouds. It was as if the sky had been like that for so long that the clouds had sort of melted into each other, blending, becoming this gray mist together, this nothingness that blighted the skies.

If the man was watching for this sudden change and moreover, if he was somehow disappointed at it not happening, he gave no sign of it. His eyes remained on the road straight ahead and his breathing stayed steady.

The second thing Cara noticed about the city of Olympus were the people. Clearly not dead, though not quite living either, they poured out of their houses and into the streets, staring after the car. There was one little boy, not much older than Cara, who even put out a hand and waved at her.

At her.

Straight at her, he saw her and waved. Nobody had done that before to Cara, there had been no reason to at the house. And although her fingers squeezed doll tighter, Cara smiled. Just a little. Because that’s what you do when someone waves at you, isn’t it? That’s what Christopher would’ve done, if he was here, except he was not.

And then he spoke. Not Christopher, but the man, the stranger, he said something, though Cara didn’t understand it quite right. It sounded wrong and quiet, like he hadn’t meant for her to hear and she wondered why would he speak if he didn’t want anyone to hear? Maybe he too was practicing, maybe he would meet someone soon whom he’d have to speak to. Although he hadn’t seemed to have a problem before.

But he was upset. Even worse, he was angry, and perhaps that’s what he was talking about. Maybe he didn’t want all these people to come out of their houses just then. Maybe they weren’t supposed to wave at Cara. So Cara sat a little straighter for the rest of the ride, trying hard to keep her eyes forward, on the road ahead of them and not on the people. Because if she didn’t see them waving at her, then that would be alright, wouldn’t it?

She made a point of not looking or of looking at teddy and doll, motionless in her lap, ‘cause then maybe he wouldn’t be so angry. But he still was. But then, the people disappeared. Not altogether, but slowly, one by one, they reached a part of the road where there weren’t houses and regardless if they were supposed to be outside or not, the people didn’t follow after them. They remained still, like statues in a dream, looking out after the car of sunlight.

And Cara wondered if the beast was still following them, because then, they might see it and they might be in danger. Or not. Or the beast might be in danger from them, they could hurt it, surely, if they were enough people. And Cara thought the beast must feel as strange as she did in this new place. The beast hadn’t seen so many people either, it didn’t know what this Olympus place was or if they might get out of it and it was probably very scared. Just like Cara.

She breathed. Steady breaths, trying to mimic the stranger’s rhythmical breathing. In. Out. Quiet.

And then, after a while, the car stopped and Cara wondered if this was still Olympus, but it must’ve been, because that’s where the man had said they would be going. The car stopped and Cara looked out the window once again only to see a tall building, much much taller than the house Cara lived in. Darker, too, even though Cara’s house was by no means light. It was like a monster, this building, or like a cage, worse than the room underneath the stairs and worse than the woods. Worse than anything Cara had ever seen.

‘Well, this is it,’ the stranger said, his voice decidedly un-happy and Cara could only assume this was where he lived.

He got out of the car and came around to open Cara’s door and open the strap that had been holding her in place. Not that she had anywhere else to go, though, even though she wished she did. Cara stayed in her seat, looking at the toys in her lap, slowly shaking her head,

‘Come on,’ the man said and his voice was very serious again, when he’d said nanny couldn’t come with them. But now, Cara wondered, why would nanny be afraid to stay all by herself, if the beast had followed Cara? Why would she be scared when there was no danger there for her?

But it didn’t matter, for nanny was far away now and scared or not, she could do nothing to help Cara. She got out of the car slowly, still not looking at the man, and she let him take her hand. He dragged her after him, not really stopping to wonder if Cara wanted to go and took her into the tall prison they’d build here, at the edge of Olympus.

And inside, there were…more strangers, for what else could there be? Inside the prison, the man’s friends waited for Cara and they all had grim faces and gray, serious suits and when Cara looked up at them, she saw the same sad look in their eyes she’d seen earlier, when the people had waved at her. But they hadn’t been happy and although Cara understood that you couldn’t really be happy when everything around you was dead, when there were no flowers, she didn’t understand why they seemed to be angry with her.

‘Welcome, Cara,’ a woman said. She was younger than nanny and had hair like Cara’s, though Cara had forgotten again what it was called. Not blonde. It was pulled back behind her head, like nanny always wore it, though. ‘My name is Martha,’ the woman said, feigning a smile, ‘and we’ve been waiting to meet you for a very long time.’

Still, Cara kept quiet, fidgeting with the toys in her arms, her friends, and now her only armor. Now, she was no longer afraid of speaking to someone who wasn’t Christopher. She didn’t think that’s what this was about, after all. But Cara felt pretty certain she didn’t want to speak to Martha. There was something horrible about Martha, something bleak and poisonous in her eyes, like maybe she’d spent one too many hours inside a darkened room.

‘Can’t she speak?’ Martha suddenly turned toward the man, impatient, as if it was his fault if Cara couldn’t speak.

‘I don’t know,’ he eventually conceded. ‘She hasn’t spoken to me. But she can hear perfectly well,’ he said, voice icy. The man didn’t like Martha, it was plain to see.

‘Well,’ Martha took a moment to re-adjust to this. ‘I was under the impression she was functional.’

‘Maybe she’s just scared,’ someone else said. And another suggested she might be shy.

‘Maybe she can’t speak,’ this one came from an old man, older than nanny by quite a bit, sat at the back of the room, his eyes almost closed completely and his mouth turned up in a fixed smirk.

‘There is nothing to suggest she can’t physically speak,’ the man said again, but there was noise in the roomful of people and nobody heard him.

If these were his friends, Cara thought, they didn’t seem very friendly. Yet, he continued speaking anyway.

‘As you know, Cara is not accustomed to large groups of people. She is most probably shy. She has been kept in very close confines up till now, her governess does not speak to her, as per my command. It was agreed, I’m sure you will remember, that no one was to speak to the girl. We wouldn’t want her to become like us and if the price to pay for that is that she can not make small talk with you, Martha, I’m sure it’s a price we’re all too willing to pay.’

And the man reminded Cara once more of the man on the mountain that Christopher had said sometimes came down to earth. There was something serious in this man, he was a chieftain of sorts, even though some didn’t seem to agree with that. But no chieftain can be without enemies and perhaps this man’s chosen enemy was Martha. The man on the mountain had had many enemies, and yet he’d been more important than everyone else, even than his enemies. And even though Christopher hadn’t been quite able to explain to Cara how he’d been more important than other people, she was beginning to see what he’d meant.

‘Surely,’ Martha agreed, quieter now. ‘But so far, I haven’t seen any–’

‘You will be quiet!’

Cara jumped, turning to look at the man standing behind her, who’d just screamed, louder and angrier than nanny had ever been. There had been something so horrible in the back of his throat and a little of it had escaped through his voice, into the world out here. And it made Cara want to run away, as fast as she could and as far away from this man as she could get. This was not a good man, yet he was her only link to the world back home.

‘How dare you question? How dare you say such things, Martha? You will be quiet. Cara will stay here, under my direct observation for the next twenty-four hours. And we will see then what happens and what does not, but until then, you will not speak and you will not upset our guest.’

Twenty-four hours. That was a lot. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it wasn’t so much after all. And Cara wondered, if nothing happened in twenty-four hours, what then?

to be continued…

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Cara #5

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The beast was following them. Cara knew it somehow, in the back of her head, as clear as anything. Every time she looked out the window, she could see its’ shadow clearly over the ground, under the tires of the car, along the grass. Even though Cara didn’t know for sure what the beast looked like exactly. And she tried not to think about it too much. The man didn’t like that, she felt that, too, that he was waiting for something and that it was best if she didn’t mention the beast, not even in her head, as long as she was with him.

Cara sat in the car, quiet, patient, waiting for time to pass and wondering how soon he’d meant he’d bring her back. And if he ever really would. He was an answer, though she no longer remembered asking the question.

‘Do they have names?’

She looked up, suddenly, like she didn’t understand the words. And the man stared back at her perfectly calm, because he did. They were both momentarily oblivious to anything happening outside of the car and they looked into each other and saw the end of the universe. Both answers to each other, in their own way, yet neither understanding where the other was coming from.

‘No, why would they? Of course, I’m sorry,’ he looked back at the road again and wished it would end, because the silence was driving him crazy. He wasn’t used to listening to it, not like Cara was. His was a world where people spoke to each other, where dolls had names and children wouldn’t shut up, where the sun had ended. And yet, he was the only link between this old world, where there was no more sun, and the one place where it still existed, to Cara’s world of silence and listening. And it felt strange, crossing this border, with this intruder in tow. Because to be frank, he couldn’t stop himself thinking of her as an intruder. She didn’t belong in this world, it was all too plain to see. Or maybe they didn’t belong in hers.

‘Can you speak?’

But this wasn’t like the first question, there was something cold sneaking its way into it, something vicious and clinical, observing Cara from afar.

Cara said nothing. She breathed, she hoped this man would go away from her, let her be quiet again.

‘It’s alright, I won’t mind. It can be our secret, if you can, I promise I won’t tell your nanny. I know how angry she gets sometimes.’

But the girl’s eye had been caught by something out the window. The light was fading, there was less…something in the world and it didn’t look right, not like days looked back at the house. She didn’t know where they were going, but she had the feeling it wasn’t somewhere nice at all. And that maybe Christopher wasn’t there either. No, of course, how could he be?

The man had asked about him when he came, he’d asked after a boy and that must’ve been Christopher. Though it never seemed to Cara like Christopher was working there. He would visit and play with her and he would stay with her sometimes when nanny didn’t want to. And he would tell her things. Maybe it was a trap, maybe this man knew about the things, knew that Christopher sometimes talked to Cara and was trying to catch him out. Because there was no one else who could’ve taught her that, he’d know it was Christopher.

She kept quiet, looking back at him, doing her best to look like she didn’t understand. It was decided then that she wouldn’t speak to him, ever, about anything, no matter how much he asked her. And it would suit her well, to keep quiet. Cara turned away to look out into the darkened window, shivering because the darkness seemed cold and lonely to her and hugging teddy and doll tighter to her chest. She would’ve liked to curl up into a ball and fall asleep, there was something sleepy about the darkness, but she didn’t think that was allowed in cars.

And just like that, the beast became lost. She jolted awake even though she hadn’t been asleep, and realized she could no longer see the beast’s shadow on the ground. It was gone, although she thought she felt it still there, behind her, hovering, howling, coming for her.

‘Fine, I don’t think you’ll mind if I talk, yes? I’ll talk and maybe you understand and maybe you don’t. I’m sure you’re probably wondering who I am or where we’re going, what’s going on. I can appreciate this must be all rather strange for you.’

And through all this, Cara would’ve liked to interrupt him, to yell at him that it didn’t matter where they were going, that the beast had gotten lost and even inside the dark woods, she could still see its shadow, except now she couldn’t and something must be really wrong. Because what if the beast would disappear, if it could no longer see its own shadow? What if it would go mad?

It wasn’t that Cara liked the beast, but it didn’t really seem fair, since it was just following her, after all, just trying to understand where Cara was going and why it didn’t get to eat its prey.

‘We’re going to Olympus and even though I can’t tell you exactly who I am, although I suppose that’s alright, really. You don’t seem very talkative, if you don’t mind my saying so. And if ever you do decide to talk and find yourself at a loss, not knowing what to call me, well, maybe I’ll tell you then.’

But she couldn’t tell him any of that, mostly because the man didn’t seem to see any problem in how the world outside looked, in the darkness that was slowly swallowing them. He didn’t know about the beast following them, he probably didn’t know about a lot of things.

‘I would like you to meet some friends of mine, you see, in Olympus. Now, they’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time, Cara. They’ve waited a lot for this and the truth is they were supposed to be waiting a lot more. But they couldn’t do it. Do you know what I mean?’

He looked again at Cara, as if the road ahead no longer mattered and waited to see if she knew or not, if she maybe betrayed herself. But Cara just blinked. It was easy to stay silent and she’d had a lot of practice with nanny, she knew how to hide herself, now only if she could keep calm…

‘I don’t think you do. You don’t seem like the sort of girl who ever gets impatient. Do you, Cara? You know how to wait, but they don’t, Cara. My friends are very impatient people and they asked to be allowed to see you. Just once, I promise. They won’t bother you again for a long time after this, I promise you. They wanted to come to you, to visit you at your beautiful home, but I warned them against it. I thought it would be intrusive. Do you know what ‘intrusive’ means? No, I don’t suppose you do. It means…well, it means bad basically. Rude. Unpleasant. I didn’t want them to be unpleasant to you, you know, disturb you at home. So, they asked me to bring you to them instead. That way, you can go back home in a few days and this little episode of impatience can be forgotten. Behind us.’

Cara watched him keenly, paying attention to the way his eyes moved as he spoke. And she got the distinct feeling that this man did not like episodes of impatience, didn’t like them in the least.

‘You’ll go back to your home an we’ll go back to…waiting for you to come out, I suppose.’

There was a good deal of unhappiness in the man’s smile just then, but for once, Cara didn’t have eyes to notice. In fact, the man’s lips might’ve well started melting then and there and Cara still would not care, because she was caught, trapped inside his words, playing over and over inside her head. Because why would these man she had no knowledge of just yesterday be waiting for her to come out?

And why would she want to come out into this sunless world?

They spent the rest of their trip in silence, Cara watching the road unfold, trying to catch glimpses of the beast, wishing she would, because she would’ve liked to see a trace of anything familiar in this most unfamiliar setting. And even though she didn’t, not once throughout the trip, she knew the beast was still there, coming after them. And she felt relieved, because maybe it would kidnap her, when she got out of the car at the other end of the road and carry her back to safety, back to her home.

She saw now how wrong she’d been. It seemed lately she only knew how to be wrong. What would Christopher be doing in a world such as this? How would he know to look for her here and how would he ever find her in the terrible dark? No, Christopher wouldn’t be at the end of the road, he would not wait for her with these people who wanted to meet her. Because he’d already met her, hadn’t he? Many times, he knew her and if he was with these people, he could’ve just told them what she was like and then, they wouldn’t need to meet her as well. They could’ve left her alone.

Somehow, the further they went from the house – and it seemed to Cara they were on the road for many long hours – the darker her ideas seemed to get, like the shadow outside had somehow found a way to creep into her thoughts, to seep into the pictures in her mind.

‘Here we are’ the man said joylessly, and a shape seemed to sketch out into the mist. ‘Olympus.’

to be continued…

 

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Cara #4

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When the man arrived, Cara was still in the room. She heard him come in, though he did so silently, not saying a word to nanny, who opened the door and didn’t say a word back. Not even hello, although that wasn’t surprising, at least not to Cara. She never used to say it to Christopher when he came by, so why should she say it to this stranger?

For he was a stranger, Cara felt certain. She heard the sound of his footsteps rustle through the walls of the old house. And they did not sound the same way as Christopher’s. The man was here about the beast. This, Cara also knew, though how exactly she wasn’t certain. Perhaps it was the only thing that made sense, that he would arrive – so soon after her attempted escape – because he was somehow part of it. Perhaps he was here to punish her. Or perhaps he was the beast, walking like a man. Christopher had told her stories like that, about a man who lived on a moun-tain in the sky, except he wasn’t a man, but he sometimes became a man and he came down unto Earth. And when Cara had asked him if he’d ever come here, at the house, Christopher had smiled.

‘No, he didn’t come by the house. Because this…man, he wasn’t real, see, people just said he was. And anyway, if he was, he was very very old, even then, older than nanny. Before the house was built.’

‘Born.’

Cara never corrected Christopher on anything, because it seemed ludicrous to do so. But that day, she’d felt so certain. New things are born. So are new people. Christopher was born, he told Cara the story, about how he’d been a screaming, crying baby and how he’d been very very red. But there was something missing in Christopher’s story then, because he was always a lone baby, with not even a nanny to look after him and it seemed sad.

But she was wrong, correcting him.

‘No,’ Christopher had said, his eyes gone a bit funny as he looked at her, ‘not born. Children are born, prisons are built.’

And then he’d seen the little girl’s eyes go up in wonder and the question form on her lips and he’d been quick to say it was not important.

But this new man was not the man on the mountain from Christopher’s story. He wasn’t someone who’d been in the house before and Cara didn’t like that. In all her life here, there had only ever been three people in the house. Cara. Nanny. And Christopher. No matter what had happened, they’d never called anyone else. Not even after the incident.

Cara bit her lips, so as not to cry, yet cried anyway, because this was definitely so very bad. Nanny had threatened to send Christopher away, but never to bring someone else here. Someone who was here to hurt Cara. And suddenly, she found she preferred the beast, that she would much rather stay in the darkness with its eyes and its howls.

But that was not to be. Almost as soon as the man had walked through the door, Cara heard the lock outside shift and she pushed herself in the furthest corner of the room, which wasn’t really far away at all and she cried. Silently, just like she’d always cried. She cried and clawed at the shadows of the floor to keep her inside.

‘Cara’ nanny said again, her voice like iron, making Cara sit really still. It wasn’t good when nanny used that voice, it made Cara’s bones shake.

She followed nanny out into the light again, shaded her eyes, even though the bulb in the corridor wasn’t all that bright. And she looked at the visitor.

He was tall, taller than Christopher perhaps and heavier, too. But he was dressed different, not like the clothes Christopher used to wear. His were all gray and looked alike, whereas Christopher always wore jeans. He even brought her a pair of jeans, as a present and Cara had been so happy, even though nanny had not. But she’d let her keep them and Cara kept them under her bed, which seemed like the safest place she could find. She was going to wear them when Christopher came back, except she’d forgotten. She realized now that she’d gone to face the beast in the darkness wearing an old dress, and that wouldn’t do at all. Of course she didn’t find Christopher dressed like this.

His eyes were small and had no color, it seemed to Cara, and even though he looked down at her and smiled, there wasn’t anything kindly about him.

‘Hello, Cara,’ he said, bending down and putting out a hand, but Cara pulled away just in time, bumping into nanny who was right behind her and catching unto her apron. She shook her head up at nanny, trying desperately to let her know she wouldn’t do it again. Because that’s what it was about, wasn’t it?

She’d spoken, that’s why the man had come. Because she wasn’t supposed to speak and she would never speak again, not even to Christopher, hard though it was. She shook her head and made not one sound and still, nanny didn’t seem to understand what the little girl was trying to tell her. She just stared down blankly at Cara and eventually cleared her throat.

‘Cara,’ she said, in her warning tone of voice, then she looked back at the man, suggesting Cara do the same.

‘It’s alright,’ the man said, still smiling his fake smile, ‘I never liked meeting strangers either, when I was your age.’

‘She’s not used to people.’

And for a second, Cara wasn’t sure where the voice had come from, looking around and then back up at the man, thinking maybe he had a second voice. But then it hit her. It was nanny. Nanny, who’d never spoken to Cara in her life except to say ‘Cara’.

She turned to look up at the old woman who avoided her gaze and shook her dress a little, shaking the girl’s hand away.

‘No, of course not,’ the man replied icily, ‘that’s not her purpose, is it?’

And nanny mumbled something and then was silent again and then, in all this abounding silence, Cara wondered if it was at all possible they were expecting her to say something? Or at least the stranger was. And she looked at him and wet her lips and said nothing. Because she’d swore she’d only speak to Christopher and he hadn’t come back yet.

‘You are alone, I take it.’ Nanny nodded. ‘The boy no longer works here?’

‘He’s…gone, sir.’

Nanny kept her eyes on an invisible spot on the perfectly scrubbed floor.

‘Good. And so you shall remain. For a while, at least. I shall take Cara here on a little trip.’

And both Cara and nanny looked up at once, their eyes suddenly bursting with shock. ‘But that was not the plan, the rules–’

‘Rules change, as do plans. Don’t worry, I shall bring her back, but right now, Cara will accompany me and you shall wait here.’

‘Please.’

For a second, the word sounded made-up and Cara honestly thought she’d just imagined hearing it. It wasn’t like nanny to ever say please. It wasn’t like nanny to ever be told what to do and be utterly incapable of doing different. And yet, here she was.

‘There will be no pleading, you will stay here.’

‘But she’s not used to–’

‘To people, yes, you’ve said. I will look after her and see how well she adapts. Don’t worry, I won’t expose her to hoards of people. She will be with me at all times. I think we’ll both be quite safe.’

Cara looked back at nanny and knew, in an instant, the look in her eye. It was panic, cold and horrible, crawling its way up through her bones. And even though nanny could sometimes be horrible herself, at least to Cara, she didn’t deserve this. She looked so scared…so much like she didn’t want to stay behind that Cara felt pity for her. She grabbed her dress again, tighter this time, hoping it would be enough not to let this stranger take her away.

But it wasn’t. Nanny pried her fingers away herself and then, packed her bag of clothes with her. Except for the jeans, she forgot to put in the jeans and what would happen if she didn’t have them?

She would go all alone with this tall gray man to where exactly? And why? And why just her?

Yet what was most gnawing at her stomach was the fact that throughout this packing business, she hadn’t seen either doll or teddy. Not in her room and not in her bag. She ran into the parlor, where nanny had thrown them and found them, slumped over in a corner against the cold wall, and she grabbed them tight and thought once more that the beast didn’t seem quite so bad.

Holding tight to teddy and doll, Cara felt like she was in a dream. She watched numbly as the man walked her down the pathway towards his car, which didn’t look at all like Christopher’s car, and strapped her in on the front side. And she watched as nanny stood on the path, somehow in between the big house and the little girl, like she wasn’t sure whether she should follow or go back inside, waving only half-heartedly. And all through this, she didn’t say a word because that’s presumably what prompted all of this and now, this man was taking her to a place where there would be other people who also said words. And she wondered, looking back as the house started to roll away and stay behind, if Christopher would be there, too.

to be continued…

Want more? My collection of stories, Grimmest Things, is available now on Amazon.

Celebrating a Pan Global Phenomenon

I was going to do a post about words, but then I remembered what day it is today. And suddenly, words fail me.

For those of you who do not know, well, shame on you, first and foremost. Second, today is the 7th of March, and on this very day, sixty one years ago, one of the most amazing people was born.

He’s also one of my personal heroes, although I didn’t really expect him to be.

[image error]One of my favorite photos of him…

 

When I first watched The Young Ones, a few years ago, it was because I was curious and I had read that Motorhead appeared on the show. I knew it was a cult and was still quite popular, despite it being 30 years old.

Boy, was I in for a surprise. From that first scene, and the marvelously stupid dialogue between Rick and Neil about lentils…I was hooked. I spent hours that night, glued to my laptop watching the show.

And that was how the phenomenon that was Rik Mayall waltzed into my life. Or rather, wiggled his revolutionary bottom into it. The funny thing was I didn’t even like him, at first. He was this snotty, annoying, cowardly, pimply boy, the sort of guy you’d abhor and make fun of mercilessly if you met him in college.

Which was exactly what he was going for.

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In real life, he was this amazingly funny, intelligent, charming, handsome man. He was also one of the writers of The Young Ones.

Oh blast it, what am I doing here? I’m giving you the Wikipedia of his life. I’m sure that if you know who I’m talking about, you don’t need it. And even if you haven’t a clue, you don’t need it. You’re not here to read that in 1991 he was Drop Dead Fred or that in the 80s, he starred in this amazing political satire called The New Statesman.

So let me tell you what this man was to me.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

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From that first scene of The Young Ones, I was immersed in this universe of glorious stupidity. Well, apparent stupidity, because Rik (as a co-writer of the show) disguised his brilliance with potty-jokes, mindless violence and silly gags. But in between those, you could find such fantastic commentary on the world, on politics, on life and the struggles and angst of youth.

The Young Ones was a revolution in television, when it first aired, all those years ago. And it was a revolution for me. Somehow, through some miracle, I managed to find my way to this old, eccentric show and to this universe of knob gags and charming wit.

Naturally, as obsessions go, I quickly went through all his work and I loved him as the many Ricks and Ritchies, the many versions of “him” that he portrayed throughout his life. And I fell in love with Drop Dead Fred. And I fell in love with Alan B’stard. And with Lord Flashheart. And with Kevin Turvey.

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Not only did he give me hours of laughter and joy, but he made me feel like I belonged, he was a kindred spirit to me, like he was to so many others.

Here was this man who was not afraid of being silly, who told millions of people that it’s okay to delve into insanity and to allow your mind to wonder and go absolutely bonkers and “act like a fool”.

He was a mad man.

He was a fantastic actor.

And he would’ve been 61 years old today. But he didn’t get to be 61, because life is so, so unfair. I was thinking about this a bit earlier and this thought flashed through my mind – ‘Jesus, 61….but that’s not old at all’.

I’ve been crying on and off for most of the day, because it’s so shattering to know that he’s gone, that there’ll be no more bottom jokes and no more brilliant…anything.

For some terrible reason, his heart stopped almost five years ago and not a day goes by without thinking of him, of this brilliant, amazing, wonderful man who made me and so many others so happy.

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Since, I’ve met a lot of wonderful people all around the world who feel the same, whose lives were touched by this incredible man. And we spend hours engaging in ludicrous conversations, quoting Rik’s jokes and we love each other for that.

For me, Rik opened up another universe – strange and very odd-one-out and…fun and warm. And loving. He taught me that it’s okay to go balls-out and that anyone who doesn’t like me or agree with me can sod off.

I’d say he taught me to be proud of who I am, but it’s not just that…

He made me who I am.

Just so you see how bloody great he was…Rik Mayall’s 5 Mantras for Life

Happy Birthday, Rik I miss you.

Cara #3

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The air was thin and the hours were growing strange. Except, of course, she didn’t know if she’d been gone for hours. Or perhaps a few minutes. Yes, it couldn’t have been quite that long, because look, there was still light out in the sky, though it was growing far away. Like it was running away from her and Cara understood yet another thing she’d failed to think about, in the making of her plan.

That she would have to be in the forest in the darkness and she would have to face the beast alone and without really seeing. And she couldn’t breathe and it felt cold outside, even though she’d just been there and it hadn’t been cold then. But now, it was like she couldn’t live here, and yet she could not go back. Not now, not when she was already outside the house. Even if she did somehow manage to pull herself back in through the window before nanny noticed her absence, it would be too late, because this opportunity, she felt certain, would never come her way again. And if she turned back now, she could bid goodbye to Christopher and to any life outside the home.

And for the first time in what felt like eons, Cara spoke. She whispered to herself, in the growing dark, the word ‘no’. And although it didn’t sound exactly like Christopher had said it, it didn’t sound wrong either.

She breathed. Steady, without thinking too much about it, she trudged on, headed for the woods and allowed the tall trees to pull her in.

Cara wasn’t too deep in – she knew, she’d turned twice to look at the mansion, make sure it was still there behind her – when she first heard the noises. It sounded like a voice, at first, though much, much dimmer than what a voice should be. Like a person stuck at the bottom of a well, crying up to the world, so as not to be forgotten. Cara had never been so close to the trees and she felt small, listening to the noise and walking between the thick trees, she felt surrounded.

But then, she realized it wasn’t a voice, after all. It had never been Christopher, not even for a second, but now, it wasn’t even human. It was like the woods were whining about something strange and sad. Maybe that’s why Christopher had come towards the forest, she thought, because it was sad like him.

A swish of movement out of the corner of her eye and if Cara would’ve been a normal girl, she would’ve let out a scream just then, she would’ve allowed the fright to eat her up whole, but she knew better than that. Cara wasn’t supposed to scream because nanny got angry. And even though she was fairly certain nanny couldn’t hear her now, not yet at least, why risk it?

She turned, though not towards where the movement had been, but to where it was heading. It would be silly expecting it to be in the same place.

‘No,’ she said again, a little louder this time. It was her first word outside the house and it felt like the only one she was allowed to say.

And the trees seemed to answer her, they seemed to say ‘yes’. A soft, sorrowful murmur filling her ears and pricking her skin. Yes. And the trees were right, if she was to save him, she would have to stay and meet the beast head on, even though she was terrified, even though she felt it deep in her soul and her body, especially her tummy, which felt like she really needed to go to the toilet.

But there was no time for thoughts of toilets. Cara saw them, two perfectly round beads, perfectly white, like teddy’s eyes, except teddy’s were pitch black. Yes, she remembered now, that was the color. The color of her hair, like teddy’s eyes and the thing with marble-white eyes took a step closer toward her, threatening to leave its hiding place between the trees and come biting out. And she forgot about her hair and she wanted to run, but at the same time, no no no. She screamed the word as loud as she could, even though nanny could hear, even though anyone could hear her, even the beast. She screamed at it – no – and the word traveled like fire through her body, her back, her bones, her face and her black hair.

The beast was tall, much taller than Cara, and it came out towering above her. And there was no trace of Christopher and she thought, for the first time, that maybe she’d made a mistake after all. Maybe the beast didn’t have him, though it had her now. And just as quickly as it had come, her courage left her and she felt her stomach turn to ashes and something melting inside. And she turned to run back toward the house, but it was far too late, because the beast had her now and how could she be so stupid? Of course the beast would get her, that is what beasts do, she was always going to be caught and now, she would never see Christopher, because Christopher definitely didn’t know about the beast and surely, wouldn’t come looking for her. Maybe he wouldn’t come at all if he heard she was no longer there, but he had to come, because what would happen to teddy and doll if Christopher didn’t have them? Nanny would just throw them away and they would go away unloved and abandoned, they’d think she’d abandoned them and Cara started crying, the beast’s grip tightening around her bony shoulders and she kicked at it because it wouldn’t really be fair at all if they thought–

Nothing. They would think nothing, because the beast’s claws release her as soon as they grabbed her and the white-eyed monster crawls back into its lair and allows another to swoop in and pick up little Cara.

Nanny doesn’t stop to soothe the crying child, but then, nanny isn’t like that. She pulls her, by the arm and the hair and whatever else she can get her hand on, drags her back into the house, screaming all the while. It’s not often nanny lets loose and in all her life, Cara’s only heard her screaming like that once, after the incident, when Cara was little and her finger got cut and something else happened that she doesn’t quite understand, but she might soon.

But right now, Cara is relieved, because she’s safe again and as soon as her boots are taken off, she runs into the parlor and hugs teddy and doll tight to her heart. Her friends she thought she’d never see again. And she screams. She screams ‘no’ when nanny yanks her friends away, because nanny’s never done that before. Always, she was allowed to play with teddy and doll. Even after the incident. But Cara’s never done something quite so bad and she says ‘please’ and the words are bubbling out of her.

And the more she speaks, the angrier nanny becomes with her and the last thing Cara sees is teddy and doll hitting the far wall and falling, somehow still abandoned on the floor.

But then, she’s pulled away, dragged behind the stairs and she knows what’s coming and her screams go louder, because she doesn’t want that.

When Cara is good, they allow her to go outside and play in the grass. But when Cara is bad, they take her under the stairs. Nanny takes her under the stairs, always nanny. And she sits, locked in the darkness, in the little room under the stairs, where there isn’t silence. Cara could handle silence, because silence is something she understands. But the house is old and it creaks and it whimpers. And as she sits in the dark, listening to the house, she sees those white eyes before her, peering, calling her back out to play.

to be continued…

Want more? My collection of stories, Grimmest Things, is available now on Amazon.

Cara #2

 

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Before she can go, there are dinners. Nanny cooks for her, but Cara doesn’t know when that happens. Sometimes, nanny leaves her alone in the foyer and maybe she goes away to cook then, but Cara hasn’t been allowed into the kitchen for a long time, not since the incident. So she doesn’t know.

Cara doesn’t remember the incident very well, because she was so small then. She remembers sitting on Christopher’s arm and she remembers whispering. Yes, Christoper carried her to the kitchen. It must’ve been a plot of his, a game. Except Christopher – not the real Christopher, because he’s with the beast, see, but the Christopher in her mind – doesn’t look like he’s playing at all. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t really seem happy.

And Cara is quiet in his arms, it’s okay, ‘cause Christopher would never hurt her. But then something happens and of course, nanny blames Christopher when she comes back. Except nanny isn’t back just yet and Cara’s sitting on the table and she’s giggling now, because she’s never allowed to sit on the table and it’s like she’s in a secret sort of club. The on-the-table-club and Christopher’s in it too, except he’s not sitting on the table. And Cara doesn’t really know where Christopher is just then, because something’s caught her attention and she doesn’t look for him anymore. Just in a second, she’ll just touch–

But that doesn’t go as planned and suddenly, Cara is screaming and Christopher turns back to her and sees blood and he panics, forgets all about what he was doing by the door. And he picks Cara up in his arms again and runs cold water over her hand and Cara screams and cries and doesn’t understand his face because he doesn’t look angry, like maybe she thought he might. He looks worried.

Before the incident, even nanny would let her into the kitchen sometimes, while she chopped carrots and sour smelling turnips and Cara would sit on the floor – because she wasn’t in the club then, not yet – and look up at nanny and nanny would sometimes look down at her. And nanny never looked worried in her life.

There was screaming. After the incident, there was screaming and nanny was angry. She threatened Christopher, except Cara wasn’t meant to hear. She said she wouldn’t allow him to come back again and ever since, Cara’s kept well away off the kitchen. In fact, even if nanny were to come in just now, or anytime really, and tell Cara – although of course, then she’d have to speak to Cara – but if she did and said ‘Cara, you come into the kitchen now’, Cara wouldn’t. Except Christopher’s gone now. Even though Cara never went into the kitchen again, he left anyway. But no, she wouldn’t do it, because then something worse might happen, although Cara can’t see how much worse than Christopher leaving and being caught by the beast it can get.

And she doesn’t have to. Go into the kitchen. Suddenly, she sees this so clearly as if it were written in chalk on the kitchen door. Because she sits at table across from nanny and looks at the kitchen door and understands what she must do. Because nanny will go into the kitchen at some point and she will leave Cara out into the foyer Of course, nanny locks the door behind them when they come in from the outside, precisely twice, the door makes a noise and then, Cara can’t open it anymore. But Cara can open the window. Except Cara’s not supposed to open windows.

But Christopher isn’t supposed to be caught by the beast either. Sacrifices must be made.

Cara watches nanny, but she has to be careful, ‘cause otherwise nanny might get suspicious. That’s what Christopher said once. He said nanny was a suspicious old cook. Or something. Which Cara supposed only made sense, since nanny did do all the cooking in the kitchen, and maybe that’s where she was suspicious, too.

And Cara is ready, when the moment comes. She’s thought over her plan many times in her head and she knows what she has to do. So, she listens as the door makes its noise. Twice, as is, after all, its habit. And she watches as nanny sits her down in the foyer and takes off her boots and realizes that for all her thinking, there’s something she’s missed. If she is to go and find Christopher, she’ll have to get her boots, because otherwise she might get cold or the beast might gob up her feet. No, no.

Nanny walks off to the kitchen in silence and closes the door behind her, which I suppose is fortunate, as she doesn’t always do so.

And Cara waits ten seconds, except she doesn’t know she did. Cara doesn’t know how to count to three and much less to ten, but she waits. And when it seems nanny won’t walk out of the kitchen at some unexpected moment and catch her red-handed, she stands up in her socks and tip-toes over to where nanny had left her boots.

She pushes her feet in and does the laces up double, because it wouldn’t do if they came undone just as she went into the lair of the beast. And she crawls into the parlor, where she doesn’t have to walk on tip-toes, which is really quite hard with her boots on, because in the parlor, there is a carpet and she thinks how she’ll miss the carpet. She’s played on it so many times, she wonders if she ever will again.

It is as if someone knew of her plan, because the window in the parlor is already open. Just a little, but that only means it can be pushed open a little more, and then a little more and–

But something goes wrong. As Cara tries to push herself through the gap between wall and window, she comes to the conclusion that all adventurers come to at some point. She realizes, once more, that sacrifices must be made. Try as she might, she still can’t push herself out properly, since her fingers always end up squashed under the doll’s hard limbs. And she almost slipped once off teddy.

No, she decides, if she is to go and rescue Christopher, she will have to do so alone. And she might cried just now, looking at teddy and her one-eyed doll, except she understands, deep down, that if she was to start crying, she would never get going and her chance would he wasted. And worst of all, Christopher would be in even more danger.

Fighting down the swell of tears in the back of her eyes, she brings each toy up to her lips and makes the funny sound Christopher makes sometimes when he kisses her on the forehead, only she makes it really quietly, for fear someone might hear and come out of the kitchen. She leaves teddy and doll on the carpet, because it seems right, and promises in her mind she’ll come back for them, because a life without teddy and doll seems unfathomable just then. And then, she pushes herself out through the open window.

And just like that, Cara disappears.

to be continued…

Want more? My collection of stories, Grimmest Things, is available now on Amazon.