THE POWER AND THE FURY

by James Erith

16

  Similar Dreams

  Daisy woke twiddling her hair.

  She pulled the duvet over her head, lay back and shut her eyes. She could feel the intensity building in her head once again and a sharp noise rang in her ears. Then the flashing started: images, like snapshots, of water, endless water, the feeling of drowning, flooding, trees and strange things that talked to her: a great chamber, skeletons, serpents, stone things like books flying through the air and ... dog poo, the one thing she detested more than anything else. And then darkness and a feeling of evil that turned her body cold like ice. She shivered as her nausea grew, and her eardrums thumped and her eyes ached as if the lids had been smeared in hot wax that, having cooled, were heavy and uncomfortable.

  And again there was the murder in cold blood – or so it seemed. Why was it always Archie?

  She gasped and then her sobs filled the room. ‘Ancient Woman!’ she cried out. Why was it always the same sad haggard old woman?

  Isabella climbed out of bed, ran across the room and closed her arms around her. ‘It’s me. Are you alright? You look terrible.’

  Daisy burst out crying ‘Why?’ she sobbed, hiding her head under the duvet.

  Archie joined his sisters. ‘Daisy, it’s me, winkle,’ Archie said, trying to sound as supportive as he could. ‘What’s up?’ But his question was met by an even louder outpouring of tears.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Isabella said, turning on him. ‘This is so your fault.’

  ‘But I haven’t done anything. I didn’t touch her – and anyway, it was you that set her off in the first place.’

  ‘Nice try, Archie. The last time Daisy was this traumatised was when you put dog poo in her slippers three years, two months and sixteen days ago. So what is it now? Another one – or is it something else equally as vile?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, you’re completely over-reacting—’

  Isabella faced Archie. ‘Listen, Arch. This is a girl problem – so please, please can you give us a couple of minutes?’ she smiled thinly at him. ‘Be useful – go and see if you can get us a cup of tea or something?’

  Archie rolled his eyes and walked off.

  With Archie out of the way, she turned to Daisy and looked lovingly into her eyes. ‘Right now,’ she said, taking a couple of deep breaths, ‘you look like you need a huge dollop of sisterly love.’

  Archie trundled down the creaking corridor, his face burning like molten lava. No one gives a damn how I feel. No one ever asks me what’s been going on in my head. And why is it is always my fault? It’s not fair. He stretched out his arms and thrust out his chin. As he did so, he felt the sting of a cut. He froze. Cloudy images of the previous night rushed back at him. Before he knew what he was doing he had dashed into the bathroom and was looking in the mirror. It was a small incision, just as he suspected.

  Archie couldn’t believe it. Ever since he’d woken the words of horse and lion had reverberated in his head. What was it again: ‘The strength of a horse and the courage of a lion?’ He shook his head. Nah – ghosts didn’t really exist, did they? But why was his memory so foggy and why did the meeting he’d had in the middle of the night feel so wrong, but yet so right?

  Archie put his head down, deep in thought, and headed towards the kitchen.

  Mrs Pye, who was ploughing through a huge pile of washing, looked up as Archie came sloping in. ‘You taking an elephant for a walk?’ she said.

  ‘Uh? An elephant?’ he repeated. Archie realised what she meant and tried desperately hard not to break into a smile.

  Mrs Pye leant against the sink. ‘What’s the matter with you lot?’

  Archie coughed. ‘Bells and Daisy had a bad night. They’re talking about some, er, girlie things, you know ...’ Archie mumbled. It was the first thing that had popped into his head.

  ‘Periods?’ Mrs Pye said very loudly. ‘Daisy becoming a woman now, is she? About time, I suppose.’

  Archie went bright red. Oh no. Was this what was meant by “girlie things”? He had no idea why he’d told Mrs Pye they were discussing “girlie things”. Menstruation was just about the last thing on his mind. He thought he’d better change the subject. ‘Er, my throat’s really sore, Mrs P, and my head hurts; feels like someone’s tightened a clip around my neck.’

  ‘Come here and I’ll have a look.’

  Archie sidled over to the sink and Mrs Pye took his head very gently in her hands. ‘What’s this cut on your chin? You been playing with your knives again?’

  ‘No. Of course I haven’t,’ he said, weakly. ‘I fell out of bed and bashed it on something.’

  Mrs Pye looked at Archie suspiciously. ‘I won’t tell – you know that. I know you like to disappear off to the potting shed and practice your throwing, though Lord only knows why.’ She took his hand, and then felt his forehead and then the back of his neck. ‘It’s your sister who doesn’t approve.’ Mrs Pye had finished her medical. ‘You is a bit sweaty, young man. Could be a fever coming on. And what with all that noise in the middle of the night – well, I don’t know what to make of it.’

  She rubbed her chin, thinking what might be the best cure. ‘I reckon you need a couple of ...’

  ‘Apples?’ Archie said.

  Mrs Pye raised her eyebrows. ‘Yep, how do you guess?’

  Archie forced a smile. Mrs Pye’s medical knowledge was virtually non-existent and apples were her No. 1 cure for pretty much everything. And Old Man Wood did seem to have an astonishing array of apple varieties in the garden, which he absolutely swore by.

  ‘And I tell you what,’ Mrs Pye added, ‘how about I bring up some poached eggs on toast and a cup of tea for each of you – with Marmite on the toast on this special day? That’ll have you right in no time. You’ll be as fit as violins for your game. Today, of all days, you’ll need all the energy you can get.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Pye,’ Archie said, smiling and giving her a big hug.

  Mrs Pye would do anything for him, and Archie knew it. But with the twins’ twelfth birthday only a couple of weeks away, Archie was hardly so little any more.

  Archie headed upstairs to break the news. ‘Can I come in now?’ he yelled from the top of the stairs.

  Isabella opened the door. ‘Sorry Arch, been a bit of a funny morning. Any luck with the tea?’

  ‘Even better,’ he beamed as he stepped inside. ‘Huge breakfast en-route – thank you very much.’ He looked rather pleased with himself and then he started to go red.

  Isabella noticed. ‘What have you done? You look ridiculously guilty!’

  Archie pulled a face. ‘I told Mrs P that you were having, er, girlie problems – you know, like, er, periods. It just popped out.’

  Daisy exploded into laughter. ‘Periods? You? OMG, hilarious,’ she said, slapping him on the back. ‘Winkle, that’s a classic.’ Her mood instantly lifted. ‘If you must know I started my “time-of-the-month” a month ago. It’s cool. You see, Archie, I’m turning into a wo-man.’ Daisy stood up, posed and strutted around the room. ‘The person you see here is ALL woman.’

  Archie laughed. ‘You could have fooled me—’

  Daisy ignored him and grabbed his hands, ‘Wo-man, wo-man,’ she said in a low growl which she hoped was cool and sexy. ‘I am ALL WO-MAN.’

  In no time the twins were dancing a kind of strange waltz in the middle of the room, occasionally tripping over each other’s feet and crashing to the floor and singing, “WO-MAN!” over and over again.

  Typical Daisy, Archie thought: one minute scared to death, the next it was quite forgotten about.

  Mrs Pye rapped on the door. ‘Give us a hand will you!’

  Isabella rushed over, opened it, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the massive tray. It must have weighed a ton. On it were an array of plates and cups and dishes with poached eggs, bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. A full rack of toast stood neatly in smart rows and pots of marmalade and Marmite were squeezed on top. Finally, there was a large pot of tea with a jug of mi
lk.

  Mrs Pye set it down on the table, drew in some large gulps of air and straightened up. ‘Now then, which one of you has the girl problems?’ she announced.

  Daisy sniggered, grabbed Archie’s hand and threw it in the air. And then, keeping as straight a face as she could, she flicked his hair and said, ‘Mrs P, it’s a terrible to-do. You see, overnight, Archie turned into a girl called Archiebell and I’ve got a mega problem with it.’ She shrugged. ‘So now we are all WO-MAN here.’

  Both Mrs Pye and Isabella shook their heads in a mock-horrified kind of way, but the twins fell about laughing as if it really was the funniest thing in the world.

  After their unexpectedly enormous breakfast, and now that Daisy had calmed down, Isabella felt it was time to question her. ‘Daisy,’ she began quietly, ‘earlier you called out, “Ancient Woman”. Can you tell me why?’

  Daisy took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself and as she did a shadow seemed to fall over her face. ‘It was another nightmare,’ she began, hoping she wasn’t sounding completely idiotic. ‘I’ve had three now,’ she said, scratching her chin nervously. ‘All totally disturbing, but last night’s was the best ... and the worst ... and the weirdest.’ She looked at her sister for support. ‘They’ve been so real – I could smell things, understand everything; birds, trees, plants. They talked to me – properly talked! It’s just so complicated, I don’t really know where to begin.’

  Daisy scrunched her face up and ran a hand through her hair, getting her fingers temporarily caught in a knot. ‘And then – then there was this old woman telling me about a wonderful, beautiful place and ... also, yes, also there was a terrifying storm – a sort of endless hurricane that felt like it was after me. It had the lot: lightning, mudslides, tons of water beating me to death. I was drowning ...’ she tailed off leaving a silence in the room.

  ‘What is it, Daisy?’ Isabella prompted.

  ‘I dreamt I reached a sanctuary – and only then was I safe from the storm. It was like ... Heaven.’

  Isabella couldn’t believe it. Daisy’s dream sounded so similar to hers. She had to find out more. ‘Daisy, what happened to this Ancient Woman.’

  ‘Well, I’m pretty certain this haggard old woman was trying to tell us something,’ Daisy said. ‘You see, in each dream she died—’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Daisy said, her eyes wide. ‘Really violently and every time in a different way. It was like being there – I could feel myself actually screaming – but I couldn’t tell who’d done it,’ Daisy said, hoping she hadn’t made it obvious that she knew who it was.

  She took the silence from the others as a green light to continue. ‘Look, I know it sounds nuts, but this “Ancient Woman” knew about us ... she knew everything ... even though we were in a completely different world.’ Her eyes searched her elder sister’s, begging her to believe her. ‘It’s terrified the living daylights out of me.’ Her bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes. ‘Every time I think about it, I think I’m going mad.’

  Archie stared lovingly at his twin sister. He loathed her for ignoring him when it suited her and for being better at sports and for her ridiculously carefree nature. But he loved her quirky manner and her honesty. If only he could muster the courage, like her, and say what he felt. If he did, perhaps everything would be clearer.

  Then, without warning, tears began to well up in Isabella’s eyes.

  ‘Oh no. Not you as well!’ Archie said.

  ‘Me too!’ Isabella cried, tears streaming down her face. ‘Same – exactly.’

  Archie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. ‘But that’s crazy—’

  ‘I know – it’s totally bonkers.’

  Archie was confused. ‘Just like Daisy’s? Are you sure?’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Isabella insisted. ‘I swear it. Three intense dreams like Daisy’s: clear as glass – but making no sense whatsoever. I’ve never been so amazed or happy or terrified, and what’s more, just as Daisy said, it always ends in death.’ She burst into tears. Daisy handed her a tissue and she dabbed at her eyes before continuing. ‘It’s like flying into a cloud and every now and then, as you get used to it, you find yourself back in the cloud, trying to figure out what’s going on.’ She grabbed another tissue. ‘And I keep seeing rain, torrential, terrible rain and lightning – you know how I’ve been going on about this deluge, well it’s terrifying me ... it’s as if this stupid storm targeted us alone.’

  Daisy nodded in agreement.

  Isabella touched Archie’s shoulder tenderly. ‘And I’m sorry I was grumpy with you, Arch,’ she said, as she raised her eyes and offered him a quick smile. ‘It’s just a bit overwhelming and confusing.’

  It was now Daisy’s turn to ask the questions. ‘What did you make of this “Ancient Woman”?’

  Isabella thought for a moment. ‘Well, she’d been stuck somewhere, as if abandoned, I think. She’s a really sad, horrible looking thing, waiting for—’

  ‘For what?’

  Isabella shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Something. And her eyes had been gouged out so she could never be sure where she was—’

  ‘That’s it!’ Daisy agreed. ‘Exactly how I saw her. No eyes, but really nice and kind and full of love.’ She pulled a bit of a face. ‘She was disgusting to look at though, all shrivelled up, like one of Old Man Wood’s prunes. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  ‘Probably more crinkly and withered,’ Isabella added with a thin smile. ‘It was very hard to believe how she was still alive. It was as if she held the key to something, something amazing, but I can’t remember what it was.’ Isabella frowned. ‘Why are dreams so weird? Why can’t I remember?’

  Archie had become noticeably quiet over the past few minutes. As if by instinct, the girls turned on him.

  ‘What about you, Archie?’ they said at the same time.

  Archie sat with his head against the window. He didn’t dare tell them about the odd spidery kind of thing he’d seen hovering over Daisy, or the ghost of Cain. He turned and faced the girls, his face ashen.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said shakily. ‘I’ve dreamt of this flood and this Ancient Woman on three occasions – just like you.’

  The girls gasped.

  Archie stared at them, his eyes red and brimming with tears. Then he dropped his head.

  ‘Thing is, in each of my dreams, it’s me who kills her.’

  17

  Overcoat

  For a while there was a long silence. Each consumed with their own thoughts, wondering if this was a massive coincidence or a matter of fate.

  Finally, Isabella spoke. ‘Look. I know it’s odd, really odd, but these are only dreams, you know. They’re just part of our minds worrying about stuff in the night. They’re not real – however extraordinary.’

  ‘But if you don’t think there’s any truth in it,’ Archie said, ‘why did you go to such lengths to make the barometer and the storm glass? I mean, you must have believed there was something to it.’

  Isabella thought for a moment. ‘Sue had had a similar dream and it sounded like mine and I wanted to try something – anything, I suppose.’

  ‘So if this is a coincidence,’ Archie said, ‘do you think there’s a storm demon out there putting dreams in our heads?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Of course I don’t, Archie. I never said that.’ She drew her fists up to her temples. ‘I don’t know what to think. It’s just a stupid dream.’

  Daisy, who had been pretty quiet, suddenly piped up. ‘Why don’t we look at the storm glass? Maybe it will tell us something about this rain we’ve dreamt about. Where did you put it?’

  Isabella stood up and plucked it out of the grate of the old Victorian fireplace. She placed it against the wall on top of the mantelpiece.

  The children stared at it, as though it held the answers to their problems. ‘It’s still cloudy with loads of little stars,’ Archie said, his voice a little glum.

  ‘But is t
here any change from before?’ Daisy continued, now focusing more intently on the glass tube. ‘Blimey those little stars are moving quickly, aren’t they? What does it mean?’

  ‘Daisy,’ Isabella sighed, ‘the thing is, I don’t really know what it means or what it’s supposed to show. I don’t know enough about it.’ Isabella went back to her area and began to gather her things.

  Daisy concentrated hard on the storm glass and as she stared, she could see hundreds of tiny stars darting around at high speed. ‘Just out of interest,’ she said, ‘for simple-minded people like me who never saw it before, what was it like when you began this mad project?’

  ‘Cloudy,’ Archie said.

  ‘Thanks Archie, very helpful,’ Daisy said. ‘Well, as far as I can tell, it’s pretty zooming,’ she said. ‘It’s way more than cloudy.’

  Isabella strode over and stared at the storm glass. ‘Nothing there,’ she announced. ‘Come on you two; time to get your things. You’ve got this big match to play, or had you forgotten?’

  The twins returned to their areas and grabbed their sports bags.

  ‘And we need to get a move on,’ Isabella said, looking at her watch. She picked up the storm glass and slipped it into her pocket. ‘My guess is that we’re being freaked out by this strange weather and our brains are picking up some sort of random signal that’s making us react oddly.’

  Daisy frowned at Isabella. ‘I realise I don’t know about these things, but if I were you, I’d keep a close eye on that stormy glass thing-a-me.’

  They filed down the stairs and found Mrs Pye at the bottom. ‘Good luck you lot,’ she said, giving each of them a hug. ‘Goals galore for you, pretty Daisy, saves for you, brave Archie. And as for you, Isabella, just make sure you don’t go running onto the pitch beating up the umpire – you heard what that headmaster said.’ She gave her a nudge. ‘Now, away with you – and I expect to hear heroic tales when you get back.’