by Aderyn Wood
“You sound like you know something the rest of us don’t.”
He looked at her and smiled, his face close. “Do I?” His eyes flicked to her lips, and Dale felt her heart quicken again. She tore her gaze away and looked up at the night sky. The stars made the giddiness return – and another sensation. She suddenly felt alone, with Rhys, like they were the only two people in the world. The sensation strengthened her.
“Alright, I’ll tell you one of my secrets. Maybe I know something you don’t.” The sentence came out of her by its own volition and her eyes widened. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk that punch. The only person who knew anything of it at all was her mother, and she pretended not to know. But now that she had started she didn’t want to stop.
Rhys’s smile broadened. “Good.”
“When I was young I used to see things – creatures.” She paused, waiting for a response from Rhys. He only looked at her with his usual gaze.
She licked her lips and continued. “They were like magical creatures, I suppose. Like gnomes and fairies and sprites and small dragons. Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” She brushed her hair back, suddenly feeling ridiculous.
“Go on.” Rhys was quietly encouraging.
“The thing is – I thought they were real. They were like – friends. I actually saw them! I know now that they were only delusions but—” She shook her head. “My memories of them – they’re real too!”
“You miss them?”
Dale bit her lip. She had expected him to laugh.
“Yes,” she said. She looked down and watched a little beetle crawling up a rose stem.
“I have another secret,” she beamed. My god, I feel I can tell him anything!
Rhys nodded. “I knew you would.” His dark eyes twinkled.
She laughed and held her head high. The stars seemed even brighter. “I can see auras.”
A sharp peel of laughter erupted from the garden. Dale spun around to see Prudence, Courtney and Natalia emerge into the lamplight. They were laughing hysterically and Prudence held up her phone.
What were they doing?
Prudence strutted up to Rhys and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I told you she was weird! Good of you to be so nice.” She winked at him then turned to Dale.
“I’ve got it all.” She held up her Blackberry. “Should be on YouTube by – what do ya think, Courtney, midnight?”
Courtney sniggered and agreed.
Prudence returned hate-filled eyes to Dale. “I think we just got even.”
“Even for what?”
Prudence rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that, elf, you know exactly what. Anyway, this should teach you a lesson – no one fucks with Prudence Feathertop and gets away with it.”
Dale looked at Rhys. Had he set her up? But he was looking at them; his face expressionless.
Courtney put on a voice, as if to mimic her. “I can see auras,” she yelled. Prudence and Natalia doubled over.
Dale turned and bolted up the path before any of them could see the tears that now burned. She heard laughter as she ran. Was he laughing too?
By the time she came to the pool, her vision had blurred. She wiped her eyes and marched on. No one noticed. No one ever noticed.
Where could she go? She didn’t want to go to her parents. Her mother would just berate her for not having fun, or worse, laugh at her. She thought about seeing Benny, but he’d probably be asleep by now. Or at least should be, if those nannies were doing their job properly.
She wiped her eyes again and looked around. Laughter and loud music emanated from the teen’s party behind. In front, a cocktail waiter, at the adult’s party, mixed a silver shaker. Two women giggled at something he said.
She looked to her left. She could see where her stepfather had parked their car. Would it be locked? She walked down the grassy hill. It was unlocked. She got in the back seat and curled up into a tight ball.
She tried to think about the sailing trip with Gareth. That always cheered her, but it didn’t work now. She pulled Benny’s blanket over her head and buried her face. She wanted to disappear into the darkness.
She had trusted Rhys. He seemed so different. Why had she trusted him? Why did she tell him that stuff? She told no one that stuff, not even Gareth. Why had she been so stupid? Her face burned as she remembered what she’d told him. Her breathing stuttered as more tears came, hot and thick.
All her life she had felt like an outsider, looking in on the lives of others who belonged. It was something she yearned for – to belong.
Her mind wouldn’t stop. She remembered the way Rhys had looked at her, the way his leg touched hers. He really seemed to care. How could he be so cruel?
The tears burned and her throat ached as she remembered what Prudence said. Would she really put that stuff on YouTube? Oh God!
She buried her head in her hands and sobbed. It had been a long time since she’d cried like this. All the years of feeling lonely seemed to hit her all at once. The cruel words other kids had said to her, the relationship she had with her mother, it all swirled in her mind. Maybe if she had a mother who loved her it would all be easier?
She rocked gently, and cried herself to sleep.
There was a tapping.
There it was again.
Dale sat up and rubbed her swollen eyes. A thick fog had descended, darkening the whole street. The lights from the party were no longer visible. The fog seemed to block the sound too.
Tap, tap.
What is that?
Dale opened the door and got out of the car. The night was cooler now. Fog swirled about her, like a cool healing hand. She took a deep breath. It felt good.
A light glowed ahead, on the other side of the road. Dale recalled there were trees there, but she had trouble seeing them now.
The light appeared again, like a glow worm. She crossed the road. Reaching out she felt the rough bark of a tree. She felt her way forward a few steps and the light got closer. Brighter. Mist swirled in golden rays. Amongst the trees a little clearing revealed itself, and she stepped towards it. Someone stood there. What were they doing? Dancing, they were dancing.
Closer still her eyes adjusted to the gentle light that emanated from the clearing. It was a girl, she was very small. Tiny even. She wore a purple dress. Her hair was spiked. She danced in cute little movements the way a child would. She had her back to Dale.
Dale called out. “What are you doing?”
The child turned and Dale saw her clearly – her dark green eyes, her pale skin. Her pink lips were smiling. Her little fangs were just visible.
Dale’s heart stopped. “My sprite?”
The little sprite waved. Healing warmth bloomed around Dale’s heart. She waved back.
And then the world seemed to move. The fog shifted and she flew back. She reached for the sprite, but the little creature disappeared into the swirling mists …
Dale opened her eyes again. She saw the familiar sight of her stepfather as he drove the car. Benny was in his seat beside her. She looked back and saw the twins curled up together in the rear. Her mother was also asleep, in the front. The lights of Glasgow streamed past.
Was it a dream?
Dale sighed and put her head down. She thought about the dream. Her sprite. Smiling, she drifted back to sleep.
6
It was Monday and the last week of school. Come Friday, Dale would be free. During lunch she sat in the library again, studying her maps. But it was difficult to relax. Wary looks from other students made Dale cautious. They cast sidelong glances and whispered when she walked by. Or did she imagine it?
Gossip spread like a virus after Prudence’s party. Apparently Courtney Smith had gone skinny dipping with a mystery man twice her age. The news she couldn’t get out of her mind was the rumour that Prudence and Rhys were together now. Dale tried to convince herself she didn’t care. But she remembered the way his hand had brushed hers at the party …
She hadn’t heard an
ything about herself. There was no talk of YouTube yet. Was that why people were so quiet when she walked past?
The bell went for class. History with Mr Nugent. Great.
She sat in her usual spot by the window and looked out at the oak trees. Another warm day. Perfect for sailing. Only four days left.
She scanned the class and caught Prudence looking at her, a smug smile on her painted face. What’s she so happy about?
Rhys wasn’t in class. It was strange. He had attended every history lesson since he’d enrolled, but not this one. Dale bit her lip. She hadn’t seen him since the party, since their conversation in the garden with the roses.
Who cares, she thought, he’s just like all the rest anyway.
Mr Nugent was fiddling with his computer at the front. He mumbled to himself as he pushed buttons on his laptop and thumbed a remote control. He was obviously trying to show a film, but he couldn’t get it to appear on the large screen.
“Listen up, class,” he said. “I’m having some, ah, technical difficulties.” He scratched his head. “I have to get the technician. While I’m gone, open up to the chapter questions on page thirty-eight and write your answers. I’ll be back soon and, er, hopefully we can watch a film you might find more entertaining than me.”
Dale watched Mr Nugent leave, then opened the textbook and picked up her pen.
As soon as the door clicked closed there were giggles and whispers from the back. She ignored them and concentrated on her work. It would only be the plastics gossiping about the party. She tried to concentrate on the textbook questions, but a flash of colour and a crackled sound coming through the speakers caught her attention. When she heard giggling she looked up at the screen.
“The thing is I thought they were real. They were like friends. I actually saw them! I know now that they were only delusions but ...”
The voice. It was hers! The promised YouTube clip splashed across the screen at the front of the classroom. The image was jumpy, unsteady. Her voice was interrupted by muted giggles, but it was her voice.
“You are the mysterious type.” Rhys’s voice. No wonder he didn’t turn up to class. She looked around. Everyone was mesmerised by the clip.
She turned to the front. The image of her remained clear on the screen – her pale skin, red hair. They would all know it was her. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
“I can see auras.”
There it was. Her secret. Out for the whole world to hear and laugh at. The class erupted in howls that blended with the giggles of Prudence and her cronies on the video.
Dale stood, knocking her books and pens off the desk. She had to bolt. Some students pointed at her as they laughed. She grabbed her books and tried to pack her pencil case but her trembling hands wouldn’t do what she wanted them to and her pens kept dropping to the floor. Her bumbling seemed to add to the hilarity. Nick Travis had tears on his cheeks. She marched to the door just as Mr Nugent appeared, wearing a look of confusion.
“What’s going on here?” he shouted. “Dale, sit down please.”
She shook her head and ran.
At the bus shelter she sat down and caught her breath. An advertisement on the inner wall grabbed her attention. It depicted a night scene in a garden, like in ancient Rome. Olive trees and poplars were swirled in mist. A beautiful nymph was handing a man an ice-cream. Dale didn’t care about the ice-cream, but she wished she could run away to that garden. It looked peaceful there.
The bus came and she got on. She tried to concentrate on the images of Glasgow that whizzed past, but soon memories of the history class came flooding back. The clip had been clear, the audio even more so. Her secrets were unmistakable and laid bare for all the world to hear.
Why did they do it? Dale closed her eyes, attempting to swallow the lump in her throat.
She got off in the city centre. The bus stopped just past The Book Cafe, one of Dale’s favourite shops. A coffee would be nice; she could use a distraction. A woman sat by the entrance, signing books. A poster beside her read, ‘Meet Your Inner Self - by Mystic Rose’. Dale ordered a coffee “cappuccino please” and grabbed a copy of the mystic’s book. She sat at a corner table.
The coffee was hot and strong. She cupped it with both hands, appreciating the warmth to her fingers. She sipped and breathed the rich aroma. Push it out of your mind, Dale, she thought. She glanced at the book and flipped it over to read the blurb. New age rubbish. There was a picture of the author. The same author who now sat in the centre of the store, signing a few copies for the odd reader. She looked like a gypsy woman with coloured skirts and silver bangles that jingled with every autograph. Most of the customers were middle aged, no doubt searching for meaning in their lives. Does life have meaning?
Dale finished the coffee and thought about what to do next. No use going back to school. Not this week. The classes were a waste of time anyway. She’d just tell her mother the delusions had returned; that she needed some time off. That might not be a good idea though. Her mother would make her see a psych again. No, better to pretend to be sick. Gastro or something.
The clock on the wall read four. She stood up, holding the book and walked over toward the table where Mystic Rose sat. Surely that wasn’t her real name. She was returning the book to the pile when a hand clasped her wrist. Dale looked up and met the grey, charcoal-lined eyes of the author herself. Her grasp was tight but Dale didn’t flinch.
“I sense your sadness,” the mystic whispered.
Dale looked around. Customers went on as they did before, browsing books or sipping coffee. No one seemed to notice the author’s odd behaviour.
“I’m sorry. I was just putting your b—”
“Listen!” The woman hissed, “You don’t belong here.”
Dale creased her brow and snatched her hand back. This was all she needed, some crazy woman to state the bleeding obvious!
The woman stood and Dale stepped back. “Changeling.” The mystic’s voice was a warning. “Go back before they find you!”
The woman stepped closer, stumbling in her attempt to round the table. Dale gasped. She must be crazy! She ran out of the shop as the woman yelled behind her. “Wait! Stop!”
Dale picked up her pace and headed for home.
Bus stops lined the busy road, but Dale ignored them. She needed to walk. She had to think about the bizarre events of the day: the YouTube clip, Prudence, Rhys, Mystic Rose. None of it made any sense. The tears came and went and by the time she rounded the corner into Springfield Gardens she felt exhausted. Her feet dragged on the pavement; her swollen eyes itched. The sun hung low in the sky. She must have been walking for hours.
She opened the door to her house and faced her sisters in their usual positions in front of the television.
“You’re in big trouble,” they said in unison.
Dale sighed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
The kitchen door sprung open and her mother walked through. “Where have you been?”
“Mum, I’m sorry. I’ve been walking.” Dale put her school bag down and leaned against the wall for support. Her feet throbbed. “I’ve had a bad day. The kids at school—”
“Oh, I’ve heard all about your day.”
Dale looked at her mother. Her tone had softened. Did she know? Did she care?
“Yes, they had a clip,” Dale explained, as she tried to keep the tears from welling again. She rubbed her eyes. “It was from the party.”
“Yes, yes,” Victoria said. “They showed me the clip.”
“You saw it?” Dale looked up. Would her mother comfort her? Tell her not to worry? She felt her lip tremble. If her mother said one kind word the flood gate would break.
Victoria nodded. “I went to the school when they called here today to tell me that you had absconded. Dr Brown was there. He showed me the clip.”
“Oh.” Dale let a single tear fall now. Maybe her mother did understand.
“Why did you do it, Dale?” Her mother
was shaking her head.
“Wait, do what?”
Victoria rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air in her typical fashion. “Why did you say such stupid things? I thought we had dealt with all that years ago. Fairies and auras! What made you say it? Was it attention seeking? Can’t you see how embarrassing this is for me?”
Realisation hit like a smack in the face. Her mother didn’t understand at all. She didn’t care at all.
Victoria continued, “I just want a normal daughter. I don’t want some dreamer who spends all her time with her nose in a book, or painting bloody fairies, or off who knows where! Why can’t you be more like other girls your age? Why can’t you be more like Prudence Feathertop?”
Dale jolted. Prudence Feathertop? She picked up her bag, turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind her.
At twilight the river reflected the soft glow of the sky. Trees stood like dark statues. Everything was calm. It contrasted her mood.
Gareth sat hunched in the boat. The light from his lantern shone on his face, revealing the fuzzy grey beard and his kind eyes. “Gareth!”
He looked up, eyes sharp. “What’s wrong?”
Dale stifled a sob. “Everything!”
“I think you better talk, lass.” He returned to his task; attaching ropes to new sails. Where’d he get them from?
“There’s a girl at school who hates me. She filmed me telling … a boy some … stuff. She put it on YouTube and she showed the whole class today.” Dale felt silly retelling it. It didn’t sound important; it sounded ridiculous.
But Gareth just nodded. “I’ve heard talk of this you tube. Go on.”
She took a deep breath. “And I had another fight with Mum. She hates me.” Dale picked a blade of grass and threw it into the river. She watched it float down, gently, betraying her anger.
“She don’t hate you, lass”, Gareth said. “She don’t understand you is all. There be a difference.”