“What happened to Stephen?” asked Clara.
“I understand he went to live with his mentor and inherited his mentor’s cottage when he passed on,” replied Selina. “It was too late for Stephen to change his ways, but when it came time, he made sure that his mentee was well informed of the dangers of the gift. And that’s how Stephen’s story has been passed down ever since.”
Clara nodded. It was a lot to take in. It’s just stories, she thought to herself. Albeit ones her aunt had never told her before.
“The next ancestor I’m going to tell you about is Martin,” Selina continued. “Now, Martin had an affinity with animals from a very young age. He was one of those types that are always bringing wild animals home to pet or take care of if they’re injured. Frogs, newts, birds, rabbits, you name it and he possessed it at some point or other, much to the dismay of his parents. Martin was delighted when he found out that he’d inherited the gift. He spent as much time as he could out in the fields and woods transforming into animals and interacting with them. It got to the point where he began neglecting his duties at home. He’d disappear for days on end, returning confused and distant. His mentor was concerned about the amount of time he spent transforming and tried to persuade Martin to spend more time at home, with his family and other people, but it was to no avail. Each time he saw Martin the boy became more and more distant until one day he didn’t come home at all. His panicked family organised searches of the nearby fields, rivers and woods but no sign of him was ever found, except for a small pile of his clothes. His family assumed that he’d drowned or been killed by vagrants with his body never to be found. His mentor was the only one who knew that Martin had likely transformed into animal form and then forgot that he was a human and never transformed back. He’d fully embraced the transformations, going deep into the animal psyche and taking on the animals’ instincts to the point that he effectively became the animal permanently.” Selina paused and blew warm air onto her fingers, rubbing her hands together to warm them while she let Clara digest this new tale.
“I don’t understand,” said Clara, frowning. “How did he forget that he was human?”
“He was spending days on end in animal form,” responded Selina. “He was going to sleep in animal form and waking up in animal form. Presumably, he was hunting and feeding in animal form too. You see, when we transform, we essentially become an animal so the animal’s instincts, and thoughts and feelings, want to become dominant. When you’re transforming you need to be aware of this and make sure that you don’t lose your human consciousness. Make sure that you always know that you’re a human in animal form and that it’s temporary. Don’t transform for long periods of time. If you do you could lose yourself and become the animal that you’ve transformed into.”
Clara shuddered, and rubbed her chest which felt tight with anxiety. “Oh,” she said faintly trying to imagine what it would be like to lose herself like that.
“The third and final lesson, for today,” went on Selina. “Is a tragedy that happened after the curse. It was to a lady called Emily. She would’ve been my great aunt.”
With a sense of dread Clara thought, “would have been?” But she remained silent.
“Emily was not happy to find out that she’d inherited the ability to shape-shift. She thought it was beneath her. She refused to accept it and fought the gift and curse, from day one. Of course she was forced to transform by the curse on the nights of the full moon, but she didn’t listen to her mentor’s advice on how to make it as easy as possible on herself, and she was almost insane from the voices and the nightmares and the lack of sleep. She moaned and whined during the transition period about how ill she was, and her family engaged doctor after doctor to find out what was wrong with her, to no avail. When she finally transformed, against her will, she was furious. Every month on the three nights of the full moon she’d fight and fight the curse until it eventually took over and then, in animal form, she’d fight and fight until she could become human again. She became known as an angry and miserable young woman. Also, against her mentor’s advice, she refused to leave the house on the nights that she transformed and would, therefore, transform in her bedroom. On one of these occasions her family had visitors staying in the house for the weekend. It so happened that the visit occurred during a full moon. And one of the visitors passed by Emily’s bedroom late in the evening and was concerned by the moaning and groaning noises that were coming from inside. They chose to go into the room to check on Emily, right at the moment that she transformed into a rat. The visitor, shocked and unable to comprehend what they’d seen, screamed, picked up a coal shovel from the fireplace and chased the rat around the room until they’d caught and killed it.”
Clara’s blood drained from her face and she started to see spots in front of her eyes. Selina quickly stood up and pushed Clara down on the rock, her head down to her knees.
“It’s okay, Clara. Breathe,” said Selina anxiously. “Just breathe. It’ll get better in a minute.” And Clara breathed deeply, waiting for her vision to return to normal. After a few minutes the spots disappeared. Clara sat up slowly. She was visibly shaking. Selina gathered her up into a warm, squishy hug, holding her tightly. Clara breathed in her aunt’s familiar and comforting perfume and buried her face into Selina’s shoulder to ward off the terrible images crossing her mind’s eye, of a rat being squished with a coal shovel.
“What happened next?” Asked Clara, her voice muffled against Selina’s shoulder.
“All of the noise attracted others to Emily’s room within moments. The visitor was rambling incoherently about Emily being a demon and that he’d killed the demon. Of course, when the room was searched, they only found the bloody corpse of the rat.” Clara shuddered again, still clinging to her aunt for support. “There was a terrible scandal. Emily had vanished into thin air and here was this upstanding citizen blubbering about demons. The family covered it up by saying that Emily had gone to stay with relatives in France, and the visitor ended up in an asylum, never to be seen or heard from again.” They were both silent for a while and then a thought struck Clara.
“What happens to the gift when one of us dies?” she asked.
“The gene automatically activates in another child in the family,” replied Selina.
“So if something were to happen to me...?”
“Okay,” said Selina firmly, taking Clara’s face in both of her cold hands and looking directly into Clara’s eyes. “First of all, nothing is going to happen to you because you’re going to be careful and I’m going to look after you, all right?”
Clara nodded. “But let’s just say something did happen to me?” she persisted.
Selina shrugged and gazed over Clara’s shoulder for a moment. “Well, most of your nearest relatives are older than you so, I guess ... Peter might activate, or maybe your youngest cousin, Samantha?” Clara’s expression hardened. She wouldn’t wish this curse on any of her relatives, especially not Peter. Whatever happened, she needed to survive and live to be an old woman herself. She needed plenty of time to figure out a way to break the curse and stop it from being passed down to any more family members.
Selina watched the resolved expression forming on her niece’s face and wondered what Clara was thinking. “Are you okay, dear?” Selina asked.
Clara nodded, still distracted by her thoughts.
“And you understand now why we need to keep all of this a secret?” asked Selina, anxiously.
Clara nodded again. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I understand.”
“Okay,” said Selina. “Now, shall we practise your exercises as we walk home? I think we could both do with a warm cup of tea and a biscuit, don’t you?” And Selina put her arm around Clara’s shoulders and steered her in the direction of her home.
Chapter Seven
Aunt Selina stayed with the family for a few days beyond the full moon to make sure that Clara’s sleeping returned to normal, and that she was handling everything she
’d learnt so far. She impressed upon Clara the importance of practising the meditation exercises every night, and not just during the full moon and then, reluctantly, returned home so that Peter could go back to sleeping in his own room.
Before they all knew it, Christmas had come and gone, and another full moon was due. Clara knew that all of her practising would soon be put to the test as her aunt wouldn’t be coming to stay this time.
A couple of days before the full moon Clara started to feel restless. She wasn’t conscious of it at first. It wasn’t until several teachers had told her off for fidgeting in class that she realised something wasn’t right. The realisation startled her. Her symptoms were starting earlier than they previously had, which meant they’d most likely be stronger when the moon was completely full. Was this normal at this stage of the transition? Her aunt hadn’t said anything about it when Clara last saw her. Clara started to feel anxious.
The anxiousness intensified as the day wore on, and the restless feeling grew until it felt like Clara had a stomach filled with wriggling worms. She hardly ate her dinner that evening and couldn’t concentrate on her homework.
When her dad stuck his head in the door to tell Clara it was time for bed, she reluctantly put away the books she’d been staring blindly at for the last hour. She changed slowly out of her clothes and into her nightdress. She pottered around her room, idly picking things up and putting them away again, until her mum put her head in to reinforce her dad’s message.
Clara climbed into bed slowly, switched off her lamp, and started her relaxation exercises. Having practised every night, as instructed, she ‘d thought she was getting good at them, but she didn’t find it easy to relax this evening. She had excess energy she needed to get rid of and the last thing she wanted to do was lie still and go to sleep.
She shook her head to clear it of all thought and focused on her breathing. Breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, she thought to herself, over and over again. Eventually she dozed off into a light sleep and slept relatively peacefully until she woke up suddenly and completely at six in the morning. Pleased with the length of time she had slept but knowing instinctively that she was not going to sleep any more she rose, dressed and finished her homework.
That night would be the first night of the full moon. Clara had a fretful day, her stomach knotted with anxiety and she was unable to eat anything at dinner that evening.
“Are you feeling okay, Hon?” her mum asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Clara. “Can I be excused? I’ve homework to do.”
“Of course,” replied her mum. “It’s Peter’s turn to help with the washing up, today.”
Clara left the table and jogged upstairs to her room, gathering up her schoolbag on the way. She quickly did the homework she’d been set, which wasn’t as onerous as she’d suggested to her parents, and then moved over to her window, opened it up, and leant on the windowsill. Almost immediately, and without any effort on her part, she felt an onrush of animal presence washing across her mind. Despite the late hour there were loads of animals about. Maybe they sense the full moon too, she thought wistfully.
Given the strength of the onrush in her mind, Clara felt herself trying to hold the forms off, defensively, rather than allowing them in. Even so she felt some of the nebulous forms evolving into solid individuals and her anxiousness turned to curiosity and she found herself reaching out to them. She recognised one of them as the neighbour’s dog, which was in its kennel in the garden next door, and she could tell it was feeling very sorry for itself at being locked out of the house. And there was the stray cat that claimed their street as its territory. Clara could sense that it was sitting on the windowsill of a house up the street gazing longingly at some pie left on a kitchen counter. And she recognised that some of the nebulous forms were birds, lots of birds, settling down for the night, nervous and edgy.
Clara wondered at this new development of her skills. Her aunt had told her that it would happen at some point, but she never expected it this quickly. She wanted to explore this new talent some more, but she was never going to get to sleep if she did. She needed to block the animals out.
Remembering what she’d been taught, she started to build her mental barrier, closing her eyes in concentration. After a while the barrier worked, and the animals faded from her mind. Clara climbed into bed, turned off the light and started her relaxation exercises but struggled to drop off to sleep. It seemed that every time she relaxed her body, her mental barrier would slip, and the voices would leak back in, forcing her to start the exercise all over, again and again. In the early hours of the morning, Clara eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion and was woken up a scant three hours later by her alarm.
She rubbed her gritty eyes as she dressed, breakfasted and went to school. The day seemed eternal because she was so tired. Not even Sinead could cheer Clara up on the walk home, or the fact that it was Friday.
That evening, Clara wanted to go to bed straight after dinner, but her parents had been watching her closely and she didn’t want to give them cause for concern. She struggled to stay awake through the Friday night DVD and was relieved when the film finished so she could go to bed without arousing suspicion.
In bed, Clara spent some considerable time constructing a large, thick, barrier in her mind. She thought with some satisfaction that it was watertight, and nothing could possibly get through. She then practised her breathing exercises particularly conscientiously until she dropped off to sleep.
Then she was dreaming vividly. She was flying through the night sky, soaring up and then banking back towards the blackness of the trees. Onwards she soared, over the houses and down the street, illuminated by the orange glow of streetlamps. She peered down with an extraordinarily acute sense of vision at the frost glittering on the path, and then she spotted small, damp footprints. She followed the footprints along the alleyway to the trees and landed on a thick branch. She watched the grass and scrub for any sign of movement, her owl eyes accustomed to the darkness. A blustery wind blew her feathers in the wrong direction, making her shiver slightly. Rustling noises over her shoulder made her turn her head instinctually and stare. She blinked.
When she opened her eyes again it was to find herself lying in her bed, looking up at her bedroom ceiling.
Wow! she thought. That was amazing. I want to do it again. Despite her excitement she soon dozed off but had no more dreams. The next time she woke she saw daylight peeking around the edges of her curtains.
Clara was so excited by her previous night’s experience she desperately wanted to tell somebody about it. She spent most of the day biting her lip and trying not to smile at the memory of her dream. Unfortunately, despite her looking forward to going to bed that night, she didn’t have any strange dreams at all and woke up the next morning somewhat deflated.
Even though Clara was unable to share her experiences with her immediate family, or with Sinead, she did write to her Aunt Selina and fill her in on all the details. A week or so after posting her letter, Clara started to come home every day expecting a response from her aunt to be waiting for her, only to be disappointed. As the days wore on, she became frustrated and concerned by her aunt’s apparent lack of interest or urgency. After all, Selina had said to contact her at any time with queries and concerns. Did she not mean it?
As the days turned into weeks and the next full moon approached, Clara became more and more nervous at her aunt’s silence. She was surprised, therefore, when her mum announced one day that Selina had invited Clara to stay with her during the half term holidays, if she wanted to go. Clara recognised that this would be when the next full moon was due and got excited at the prospect. Finally, she thought, I might get some proof about the shape-shifting aspect of the gift. Peter was torn between feeling disappointed that he’d not been invited and relieved that he wouldn’t have to spend a week away from his parents.
Under the Light of a Full Moon Page 5