Dark Confluence

by Rosemary Fryth

  ‘Good,’ she thought, ‘Might be able to afford to fix the guttering now.’ Then she remembered the state of her car parked at the police yard and groaned aloud. Of course, she had to deal with the insurance, contact a plumber, and find a garage to see if the car could be brought back to drivable condition.

  “It just never ends,” she sighed dramatically as she pressed a button to exit the mail program.

  ‘Yes, it will,’ whispered a quiet voice behind her.

  Jen frowned and spun around in the chair, immediately twisting painful nerve endings in her neck, which made her wince. She glanced about her whilst rubbing her neck. There was no one there; she was quite alone. Jen took off her glasses, wiped them clean on her shirt, and put them back on. Still she could see no one.

  Jen got up and went into the other rooms to check the radio and television, and then remembered that she had turned both of them off. Then she went outside and looked around. Her house was located at the end of a short and narrow unpaved drive off the bitumen road beyond. She listened and heard nothing but the cawing of crows in the distant eucalypts. The only traffic noise she could hear was the occasional sound of a distant car on the main road.

  Shrugging to herself, she mentally reasoned the voice away, dismissing it as another side effect of her head injury. As she turned to go back inside and return to her work, she heard a car drawing near. Within a few moments, a small blue hatchback turned into her drive, and drove up to the house, dust from the road billowing in its wake. Jen stood and waited at her front door, leaning expectantly on the solid doorframe. The car pulled up, and a moment later, a young woman dressed in a light blue uniform got out with a small leather attaché case in her hand.

  “Jennifer McDonald?” The young woman with the neat and short light brown hair asked.

  Jen nodded.

  “Clare Williams, the hospital asked me to call in on you. I’m the district nurse and I’m to do follow-up, since you were discharged from hospital yesterday.”

  Jen motioned her inside and out of the glare of the morning sun.

  Jen sat down and watched, as her visitor opened the attaché case, and pull out a sheaf of papers and examine them.

  “Car accident, I see that the tests and scans have come back with no irregularities.” She put the papers down and scrutinised the older woman sitting opposite her. “How are you feeling Ms McDonald?”

  Jen shrugged, “Some stiffness. The headache came back briefly last night before bed; however it was gone when I woke.”

  The nurse nodded, “Anything else? Dizziness? Nausea?”

  Jen shook her head, “A bad dream, dreamt of the accident and...” she hesitated, “I heard a voice just before, thought it was someone hanging about the house, but no one was there. I was just checking when you drove in.”

  “A voice? Male or female?”

  “I couldn’t tell,” Jen answered honestly. “It was so quiet that I couldn’t identify the source or the speaker.” Jen added, “Do you think the dream and the voice might have been a result of the accident trauma?”

  The nurse shrugged, “It’s possible. Medical science is still learning new things about the brain, especially after a traumatic event like a car accident. I’d definitely say that the dream is the brain doing ‘housekeeping’ on your memories.” Again, she leafed through the papers. “Your file states that you have no memory of what you saw before the accident?”

  Jen nodded.

  “No doubt it will fully come back to you. Just give yourself time and rest and the healing will happen. As for the voices, if it happens again, then I’d advise returning to the hospital for more tests. There may be pressure on the brain now that wasn’t evident before and a CAT scan would pick that up.”

  Jen nodded again, a tiny wriggling worm of worry now planted in her mind.

  The nurse saw her concern and hastened to reassure her. “If you’re not experiencing any ill-effects, such as dizziness, nausea, fainting, fits, etcetera, and if the headaches have gone away, then I doubt there is real cause for worry. It may well be just your mind is recovering and it will pass naturally over time. It’s just that all head injuries must be taken seriously, and if you are concerned, then further tests will rule out any troublesome causes.”

  Clare closed her attaché case and stood.

  “If you feel you are well enough, I’ll go. I do have a neck brace in the car if you need it?”

  Jen nodded, “My neck and shoulders are still a bit stiff. What about painkillers?” she asked.

  “One or two at a time,” Clare replied, “Don’t overdo it. If you find you are relying on them, then it is time to return to the hospital. I’ll schedule you some physio in a few days.”

  “At the hospital?”

  “Yes,” the nurse turned towards the door. “I’ll see myself out. Keep mindful of rest. I’ll get the neck brace in case you feel you need it and I’ll leave it on the verandah for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  The nurse walked briskly to the door and with a soft swish of her blue uniform, was gone.

  Jen moved to the window and watched as she walked to the car, took the brace from the backseat and returning, placed it on the verandah chair. Seeing Jen at the window, the nurse lifted a hand in farewell, went back to her car, climbed in, and drove off.

  Jen turned, whilst absently rubbing her neck, her mind already consumed with thoughts of whether or not her insurance company would recognise an insurance claim for the accident.

  *

  Tyres crunched outside. Jen quickly grabbed her handbag and keys, and locked the front door. The taxi was only a few minutes late in arriving, and whilst she was without a car, she needed transport.

  “Emerald Hills Cooperative Bank, please,” she told the driver, settling herself down on the padded vinyl backseat of the sedan.

  He nodded and eased the car forward out of her driveway and onto the road. Jen sat back and tried not to let paranoia overcome her. It had been a few days now since the accident, and sitting in the car, she had immediate and chilling memories of the terrible screeching of brakes and the sudden painful stop. She stared out the window, trying to distract herself by gazing at the countryside - an undulating panorama of green fields, groups of trees and wheeling birds against a clear azure sky. Her eye was drawn towards a group of horsemen riding parallel, yet at a distance from the road. Pressing her nose to the window, she tried to make out details of the group, but they remained determinedly hazy, caught in mist, yet riding as if on a hunt or in a steeplechase. Suddenly, they turned as one and stopped, as if to stare at her. At that moment, the taxi drove past a dense clump of bushes, temporarily obscuring her sight. Just as the taxi cleared the brush, Jen looked back, but the riders had completely vanished. Jen frowned, trying to recollect details. However, all she could remember was how translucent they had seemed, as if they had been riding through the shimmer of a heat haze or like distant figures glimpsed upon a pristine and white sandy beach. Chewing her bottom lip, Jen felt an odd unsettling feeling in her stomach. It was as if the world was not quite as right as it had been this morning, or even as it had been earlier in the week before the accident. The little worm of worry for a short time hibernated. However now it was awake and gnawing at her again.

  The taxi soon turned into town and drew up alongside the bank. The driver checked his meter and turned to her, “Twelve dollars fifty, please.”

  Jen handed over fifteen dollars and waited whilst change was given, then hopped out of the taxi and brushed down her skirt and shirt, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. She had come to the bank in the hope of getting a small loan to buy a new car. The repairers had taken one look at her mini, decided that it simply wasn’t repairable, gave her a couple of hundred for it and then towed it away for parts. The insurance company had been sympathetic. However, bureaucracy and insurance claims moved slowly, so Jen didn’t expect to receive her insurance check for another month or two – and she needed a car now. Staring at the weathered brick b
uilding, Jen didn’t hold out much hope for a loan. Her income as a proofreader was sporadic at best and in-between jobs, she heavily relied on her investment earnings and modest royalty checks, from her two published reference books.

  Shaking her head, she turned away. Briefly, she entertained the idea of buying a bicycle, and then dismissed it as the practicalities of transporting groceries from the local supermarket to her home sank in. Swinging on her heel, she crossed the main road and headed up the road where she knew the local car-hire business was.

  An hour later, she was in the possession of an unassuming dark blue hatchback. The deal they made was to the general dissatisfaction of both the dealership and her. The woman behind the counter had baulked at the length of hire (it seemed the hire company preferred a fast turnover rate) and Jen had baulked at the cost. However, beggars could not be choosers and Jen handed over her debit card with great reluctance and paid for the transaction. Turning out of the dealership gate, Jen drove slowly and timidly as she grappled with not only a strange vehicle and unfamiliar controls, but also with her underlying paranoia about the accident. A few minutes later, she swung into the supermarket carpark and found a parking space off to one side and well away from the other vehicles.

  Inside, Jen breathed a little easier and relaxed in the refreshing coolness of the air-conditioned complex. Of course, there was the big grocery store with its vast array of produce and goods, Jen noted a hardware store had only just opened its doors, as well as a boutique fashion outlet. Evidently, new money had moved into the area, invigorating what had been primarily a sleepy regional township. She stared at the people around her and recognised only a few faces here and there. New money indeed, seemingly most from the cities or interstates, given the big expensive cars and the interstate plates, she had noticed on her way in from the carpark. As she regarded the people milling by, her eye was caught by a sobbing little boy who was standing off to one side near the entrance to the toilets and mother’s room. Caught by his distress, Jen made a beeline to him, noting his dishevelled appearance and his tousled hair, which looked to have been dyed a rather odd shade of green. She had almost reached him, when without warning he shot her a cheeky grin, turned suddenly and walked straight into a solid brick wall, vanishing instantly.

  As if she too had hit a brick wall, Jen stopped immediately and another shopper cannoned into her. Before the other shopper could say anything, she hastily apologised and then walked over to where the sobbing boy had been to examine the wall and to see if she had missed a door or some other opening. None could be found, and Jen spent a fruitless few moments running her hand along the wall, as if she could somehow find and extricate the boy from it.

  As the world tilted about her, she clutched the wall as a shipwrecked sailor would clutch the sodden timbers of wreckage keeping him afloat. Breathing hard, she was able with some effort to steady her pulse as passers-by by gave her a pitying look. She assumed that despite her sober attire they thought her drunk or drugged.

  “Are you poorly, luv?”

  Jen glanced over her shoulder and nodded at the solicitous old gentleman who out of all the throng in the supermarket had stopped to help.

  “Then let me aid you to a chair”

  A calloused hand took her arm, and she felt herself gently guided to one of the nearby chairs. She sank down on it in some relief.

  “Don’t fret, luv. I’ll be back in a mo’.”

  Jen nodded again and waited for the world to stop spinning.

  “Here.” The chivalrous, elderly gentleman handed her a plastic cup filled from the water filter in the chemist.

  She gasped out her thanks and drank gratefully.

  “Flu?” he asked, his age-creased and sun-darkened face showed concern.

  She shook her head, “I was in a car accident.”

  “Perhaps you need to be going to hospital,” he said. “You look quite pale.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, “Just needed to sit for a bit.”

  “You’re from Scotland, then?” he asked.

  She nodded, finishing her water, “Yes, a very long time ago. I’ve been in Australia close on thirty years now. Is my accent still strong?”

  “Not so much,” he said, but I did pick up a little of the Highlands in your voice.

  “I was born in the Highlands, but the family moved to Edinburgh when I was a wee lassie.”

  He smiled as if in recollection, “My wife, God rest her soul was a Highlander too. You seem to have a little of her look, as well.” He held out his hand, “I’m Tom Delany.”

  “Jen McDonald.”

  They solemnly shook hands.

  “I run a small farm out on the road to Cromhart – mostly avocados and macadamias.” He fished an old supermarket coupon from out of his pocket and with it the stub of a pencil. He scribbled a number on it and handed it to her.

  “My number, in case you need a friend,” his faded, almost cloudy blue eyes stared at her with a sudden, startling directness. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but there’s something not quite right about you, luv. Perhaps, you should ring sometime – my wife Anna, you see, God rest her soul, sometimes had a similar look about her. When I saw that look, I knew to be brewing a strong cuppa tea, to bring the animals in, and to lock and bolt the doors of the farmhouse.”

  He stood and shook her hand formally, “I must be off, my grand-daughter Fiona is due to pick me up soon and drive me home.”

  He smiled at her, and standing gave her a little bow, and slowly walked away.

  *

  Chapter 4

  Jen sat and fidgeted as she waited in the reception area of the local hospital. After her strange turn at the supermarket, she had completed her weekly shop. Then she had driven home to offload the groceries and immediately afterwards, she rung the hospital to arrange for further tests and scans. The hospital had acted with alacrity, scheduling her for a CAT scan and blood tests the next day. The procedure had not taken long and the hospital advised Jen to return the following morning for the results. After a poor night’s sleep, where Jen spent most of the time nervously tossing and turning, she arrived at the hospital bleary eyed and pulse racing with nervous anxiety. She stared at the television high up in a corner of the room. Her eyes blankly watched the flickering figures of the Sunday morning shows yet her brain did not comprehend, so consumed with worry was she.

  “Miss McDonald?”

  Jen leapt to her feet as if someone had planted a firecracker under her.

  “The Doctor will see you now.”

  Clasping her handbag under her arm with suddenly sweaty hands, she followed the nurse through the swinging doors of reception and into the wards area. The nurse stopped outside a door and motioned her in.

  “Wait in here, please; the Doctor will be with you momentarily.”

  Inside was a small office. Jen sat herself down on the visitor’s chair next to the desk and looked around. Most of the small room was taken up by a large desk, on which sat a computer, keyboard, and monitor as well as various pens and medical folios. A leather chair was positioned at the desk. In addition to the desk and chair, there were two sizeable bookcases full of reference and medical books. Charts and framed photos hung on three walls, and a clean whiteboard dominated the far wall. The office looked very professional.

  The door opened and in stepped a middle-aged balding man clad in a white coat over a business suit. He held out his hand and smiled at her.

  “Don’t get up, this won’t take long.”

  Somewhat reassured by his smile, Jen allowed herself to relax a little.

  “I’m Dr Anthony and I’ve been reviewing your files and also the most recent tests.” He flipped open one of the manila folders he had carried in and perused the documents. “The blood tests have shown nothing to indicate any latent issues or problems. In fact, your cholesterol levels are superb for your age. Your iron and calcium need a little improving. However, the levels fall within normal range. If you ensure you eat more red m
eat and more calcium rich foods you’ll find an improvement in your energy levels and bone density.” He closed the first folder and opened the second.

  “As for the CAT and other scans, again, they show nothing out of the ordinary. The bruising from the accident has gone down and the brain seems normal and healthy. There doesn’t seem to be long term damage to your spinal vertebrae from the whiplash.” He looked up at her, “In short, aside from the iron and calcium, you seem as healthy as an ox, Miss McDonald, and as I said before, change your dietary habits slightly and you’ll see even more improvement.”

  Jen sat back deflated, “So the visions?”

  “Are probably just your imagination playing tricks upon you,” said the Doctor. “You did suffer emotional as well as physical trauma and the brain is probably just dealing with that emotional trauma in its own way. Give yourself time, plenty of sleep and rest, and you’ll find that everything will be back to normal soon enough.”