Gifted

by Campbell, Jamie

  Charlie followed him outside and looked for the meter box. It was located on the side of the house beside the garage. They pulled it open with a screech. Blair poked his head in the box, fiddled with a few of the wires and closed the door again. Charlie watched on sceptically, not only did she suspect he wouldn’t find anything, she also didn’t know if he really knew what he was looking at anyway.

  “The safety switch it still on, everything else looks okay.”

  “It’s them again, I know it.”

  “Why would a bunch of ghosts turn lights on? How could they turn lights on?”

  “Think about it Blair, we had to flick each light switch to turn it off. If it was an electrical surge or fault then the switches wouldn’t physically be in the ‘on’ position. Someone had to manually turn on each of those lights.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions. How could a ghost flick a switch? They don’t have hands.”

  “How do you know they don’t?”

  “I don’t know. Pop culture has me believe that they are see-through - they don’t have a physical body.”

  “They have energy though, you don’t need hands if you have enough energy to do it with your mind.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I believe that something has you spooked. I just don’t think ghosts are the reason for everything happening around here, that’s all.”

  “What about what happened in the bathroom yesterday? That didn’t make you think there are things here we can’t see?”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. It was freaky, but it could have just been my imagination playing tricks on me.”

  “You wait, something is going to happen to you that will make you believe. They will make sure of it. I’m sure they like a challenge.”

  “Bring it on, Baby,” Blair smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Charlie was freaking out, he was trying to calm her down. At least being angry at him took her mind off it. They headed back inside and up to the upstairs living room. To Charlie’s relief, it was exactly as they had left it yesterday. She pulled the curtains wide open while Blair started cleaning the fireplace.

  They spent all afternoon tidying the room and making sure their paintwork from the previous day was perfect. When the room started to heat up with the afternoon sun, they opened the glass doors onto the balcony. It allowed a cool breeze to circulate around the room. Only when they were satisfied that they had done a professional job, did they do downstairs for dinner.

  Rahni was sitting at the table already, she was paging through a colouring book of fairies. Cate was standing in front of the stove top, stirring a tomato themed sauce around the pan. Charlie helped by draining the spaghetti into the sink and pouring it into a large ceramic bowl. Together, the two women served dinner on the table. Rahni put her book to the side and took a plate, Blair did the same. Together they all enjoyed the meal.

  After the plates had been cleared away and the leftovers placed in the refrigerator, Charlie excused herself for an early night. She dreaded going to sleep but her body was telling her that she had no choice. Blair had offered to go upstairs with her, keep her from scaring herself, but her pride wouldn’t let her accept. So she took each step at a time, trying to tell herself nothing else was going to happen that night. She finally reached the top of the grand staircase and turned right to go down the hallway.

  She turned the doorknob of the blue room and slowly opened it, taking in the room as it became visible. She sighed with relief - it looked exactly as she had left it that morning. She took a shower and lay in bed trying to keep her eyes closed. She would occasionally hear a creak or a dull thud and instantly her eyelids would open to search for the source of the noise. She could never find it. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep from pure exhaustion.

  * * *

  Charlie was aware of someone calling her name. She opened her eyes and the room was dark save for a soft light peeping through the doorway. She looked to her right, Blair wasn’t there - the bed was empty. She pushed back the wool doona and slid her legs over the edge of the bed. Standing up, she slowly crept to the door and peered into the hallway. All the lights in the corridor were switched off. She pulled open the door, now curious about where the source of the light was coming from.

  Out in the hallway, she noticed all the doors were missing. Heavy wood lined the walls in a continuous pattern, unbroken by the entranceways. Even the staircase was absent. There was nowhere else to go except down the straight hallway. She softly walked down the corridor, acutely aware that someone was watching her - she could just feel it. As she approached the door at the far end, she still couldn’t see where the light was coming from, it just seemed to be glowing from nowhere and lighting her path.

  At the door to the playroom, Charlie didn’t hesitate, she didn’t feel threatened by the invisible eyes watching her. She entered the room and sat in a rocking chair that was tucked away in the corner of the room. She started rocking slowly, looking around the room and still not determining the source of the soft glow. She found her voice.

  “Who’s there?”

  The room was silent in reply.

  “I know you’re watching me. Let me see you.”

  A tiny pink figurine of a ballet dancer suddenly fell from the fireplace onto the floor, it broke into two pieces and made Charlie jump with the sudden noise. She left the rocking chair and knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of ceramic. It had been cleanly sliced through at the neck, the little blonde head still smiling in her hand. She placed it back on the fireplace, sitting the head back onto the body. She turned around again and scanned the room, searching for any sign of movement.

  “That was you, wasn’t it?” She asked the empty room. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you maybe come and talk to me? Who are you?”

  Charlie was suddenly made aware the window was open when the curtains started billowing in the breeze. The air in the playroom was starting to get cool whereas before it had been welcomingly warm. She walked to the window with the intention of closing it and stopping the temperature from dropping any more - she was still only in her summer pyjamas. She pulled back the white lace curtains and gripped the top of the window, pulling at it as hard as she could. The window sash wouldn’t budge. She tried again, putting all her weight behind her grip. Still, the window wouldn’t move. She gave up and stepped back, rubbing her arms to get warm again. She returned to the centre of the room, all her senses on high alert, checking for any movement, sound, or smell.

  The breeze from the window turned into a wind and swirled around the room in a cold windstorm. Charlie was frozen in place like the centre of a vortex, she was unable to break through the gusting wind. Her hair was blowing over her face, her pyjamas forcibly stuck to her body. She thought she heard a whisper, like the wind was talking to her. She held her hair back in one hand and strained to hear the whispers from the howling of the wind.

  “The day room,” Charlie thought she heard in amongst the chaos swirling around her.

  “It’s in the day room garden. You have to find it. The day room garden. They buried it.”

  “Buried what? What did they bury?” Charlie yelled at the room, she was certain she wasn’t just hearing things. They may just be whispers but they were forming words and sentences, things she understood.

  There was no reply to her questions. Instead, the wind suddenly dropped. Everything it had picked up in its path was momentarily suspended in mid air before falling to the ground. Charlie was no longer attached to the floor, she could move from her spot again. She ran out of the room and down the corridor. The hallway was no longer aglow with soft light, it was dark now and Charlie was having trouble seeing. She thought she was almost at the end, if she went any further she would run into the door of the upstairs living room but as she slowed down, she couldn’t find the door. She felt around with her hands, running her fingers across the wall. She didn’t feel anything except the sturdy wood panels.
<
br />   She started running again, her arms stretched out in front of her, hoping to feel the door. The blue room was right beside the living room. Find the living room, find the blue room. She ran and ran but never found the end of the corridor.

  * * *

  “Charlie, you okay?” Blair looked over his mug of coffee at his girlfriend with a concerned look on his face. Charlie raised her eyes to meet his, she could barely summon the energy. They were sitting on the front porch having morning tea and planning the rest of their day. Cate and Rahni had already left to do the weekly grocery shopping. When asked why they needed to get it done so early, they were curtly told that was when all the specials were out.

  “I had another bad dream last night. It was weird.”

  “You didn’t die in this one too, did you?” He asked, only half joking.

  “No, this one was different. I was in the playroom and there was someone there with me. They were whispering to me. I never saw them but I just knew they were there.”

  “What did they say? Boy or girl?”

  “I think it was a girl. She said something about the day room, that they buried something in the day room garden.”

  “Buried what?”

  “I don’t know. I asked but she never answered. Do you think these dreams mean anything?”

  “I’m sure it’s just your mind clearing itself out again. But maybe you should write them down when they happen. On the slight chance that they are trying to tell you something, it might be useful to refer to.”

  “Blair Bennet! Weren’t you just telling me yesterday that everything was just a coincidence? Now you’re telling me there might be something in it? What happened?”

  “Nothing, I just think we should keep our minds open,” Blair said sheepishly.

  Charlie knew him too well, he was lying about something, that she was certain. She decided to not let it rest. “What happened? You told them yesterday to ‘Bring it on’, did they?” Blair nodded and averted his eyes from her stare. “I told you they’d get you! What happened?”

  “Okay, okay. Whoever is listening to this, I apologise. I get it, you can leave me alone now,” he said loudly to the porch. Then in a quieter voice to Charlie: “I may have woken up last night because I thought you were patting me like you do. I woke up and you were sound asleep at the very edge of the bed. I could still feel the area where the patting was. I put my hand over it, trying to rub off the feeling and the spot was freezing cold. It’s like someone had put an ice cube on my arm. I definitely didn’t imagine it.”

  “So you’re with me now, then? We have to do something about them.”

  “I’m officially a believer. We need to get rid of them, we can’t leave them here with Cate and Rahni all by themselves.”

  “I agree. You feel like doing some digging? Literally. The girl told me to look in the day room garden for something.”

  “What’s a day room? It could be any of the gardens around the house.”

  “It’s an old term. The ladies of the house used to retire to the day room during the, well, day to do their thing - sewing, reading and whatnot. It would have been a large room that was really bright and comfortable. It would also have been away from the main rooms so the men of the house could do their business and the formal rooms were kept untouched.”

  “Sounds like a conservatory.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. There’s also a garden just outside. It would have been a perfect room for the ladies of the house. They could enjoy the sunshine and the beautiful views whilst keeping out of everyone else’s way.”

  “Well, there’s no time like the present. If we finish before Cate gets home we won’t have to explain what we’re doing in amongst her prized daisies.”

  “That’s a conversation I’d rather not have, that’s for sure. I just need to make a phone call first - arrange a meeting with Mrs White.”

  Blair waited while Charlie spoke to the head of the Pickerton Historical Society. They would visit her in the afternoon, after she had done her Meals on Wheels duty for the day.

  They washed their coffee mugs and went through the house to the garden just outside the conservatory at the back. They walked around the garden bed, trying to determine exactly how they could dig in the dirt without destroying the plants. Finding something they didn’t know they were looking for was going to be difficult. They settled on sticking something into the ground as a first attack, see if it hit anything. They hoped luck was on their side.

  Blair found a rake in the garden shed and, turning it upside down, he speared it into the dirt. It sunk in easily, he tried again and continued to poke all around the ground. Just when he was about to give in, the rake handle hit something. He used his hands to pull up the black dirt. He dug down about thirty centimetres before finding the hard object. He had unearthed one large rock. Frustrated, he tossed it aside and replaced the soil.

  Charlie took a small trowel and gently dug at the earth between the daisy bushes. She was certain they were going to find something, it had to be there somewhere. There weren’t just rocks underneath the soil, the girl had told her so. She continued her cycle of digging and then replacing the soil before moving on to the next patch. Blair followed suit in the opposite garden bed. It took all morning before they felt defeated enough to leave the garden.

  They cleaned themselves up and made a cheese and vegemite sandwich each for lunch. They were bitterly disappointed about uncovering nothing in the garden. Charlie had imagined all the things they might find, some buried heirloom jewellery, expensive silverware, or a hidden treasure chest maybe. Her mind had raced with excitement. But now, her hands just hurt from the digging and there was dirt underneath her fingernails.

  Charlie checked her watch, they would have to hurry to meet Mrs White on time. They quickly walked to the car and sped off into town.

  The elderly woman lived in a small old house right off the main street, in walking distance to everything Pickerton had to offer. Charlie imagined this was a deliberate location, from her short conversation with Mrs White she had gathered that not much went on in town without her knowledge. Charlie didn’t even have to mention she was only in town to stay with her sister, Mrs White had known exactly who she was already.

  Blair parked in the street directly outside of the little white house. They walking in through the rusty front gate and approached the door. As they did, it opened and a smiling woman greeted them warmly.

  “Mrs White, I’m Blair and this is Charlie. Thank you for letting us visit today,” Blair introduced them and shook her hand lightly, not wanting to hurt the woman. She was a short lady with snow white hair and a slight hunch to her shoulders. Even though she appeared frail, they were both certain she was probably anything but. She wore a bright fuchsia dress and matching slippers.

  “I’m pleased to meet you both. Please, come in. I have some afternoon tea all ready for us. I hope you like caramel slice.”

  Charlie and Blair looked at each other with delight before stepping into the house and following their host into a living room. Through a small window in the wall they could see through to the kitchen. The decor was old-fashioned. The carpet on the floor was a shade of green reminiscent of the Seventies and the swirling wallpaper looked like an original feature of the house. Whoever had decorated the house would have been proud of it thirty years ago.

  They took a seat and Mrs White returned from the kitchen with a tray full of tea and slice. She placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the room and poured three cups of black tea. After passing one to Charlie and Blair, she distributed the slice to them. They eagerly took a piece, juggling the teacup in one hand and the slice in the other.

  “So, what do you want to know about our beautiful little town? Brenda Franco said you were researching your sister’s house, Sage Manor?”

  Charlie swallowed the piece of slice in her mouth before speaking. “We are. It’s such an old house there must have been a few owners over the years. Each one with a
story to tell, I’m sure.”

  Mrs White nodded. “Indeed, there has been a total of five owners since it was originally built by the Reign family.”

  “Do you mind if I take some notes while we’re talking?” Blair asked and placed his teacup on the coffee table to free his hand.

  “Of course I don’t Dear. I read up on the Manor last night after I spoke to Brenda, just to make sure everything was fresh in my mind. Now, would you like me to start from the beginning?” She waited for them to nod before she continued. She took a deep breath. “Well, Richard and Elizabeth - Lord and Lady - Reign lived in the house between 1800 and 1806. They had three daughters they emigrated from England with. They were the typical aristocrats, they brought with them an air of society - everyone had their place and should remember that. It turned some of the locals off but at the same time they were in awe of them. I imagine they hadn’t seen many Lords in this area before that!

  “After them came the McDonald’s, they owned the property from 1806 to 1887 - the longest anyone has ever lived there. Hamish and Margaret McDonald were only young newlyweds when they moved in. In the walls of the house they had four children and raised their family. They only left when they could no longer care for themselves and had to be moved into a hospice. Their oldest son, Martin, stayed there for a few years after but eventually decided to sell. It’s a big responsibility looking after such a grand old house. It’s easier nowadays, but back then it would have been quite burdensome.

  “Next came the Rudolphs, they were there from 1887 to 1948. They were characters if you ever saw one. They tied themselves to a tree once in protest, can you imagine?”

  “We heard about that, it made the newspaper.”

  “The town loved the couple. They moved in as young newlyweds too and everyone thought it wouldn’t last. Helen was apparently a shy women, hardly said a word to anyone. But then Jack came on the scene and they hit it off instantly. Complete opposites in every sense but their marriage survived the test of time. They only moved out when they were shipped off to a nursing home. They had only one child, a daughter named Sophie. Helen almost passed away during childbirth so they decided one would do.