by Kim Thompson
Willa and the dragon locked eyes as the beast shrank back into Miss Trang, small and ordinary in the middle of the yard. Behind her the house continued to burn. Willa became aware of a roaring sound, but it was a reassuring roar, a fireplace kind of roar. Walls continued to fall inward with intermittent crashes. Willa and Miss Trang stared at the blaze.
“The house!” Willa moaned.
Miss Trang shook her head ruefully. “It’s not the house that’s the problem. I’m more concerned about ...”
She stopped abruptly as her eyes fell on the tiny ball of yarn Willa held out in her hand. Willa had never seen her surprised before. Her eyes grew as large as saucers. The others straggled up and let out a cheer. Miss Trang, in another first, melted into an astonished smile.
“Willa,” she gasped. “You are a treasure!”
Just then Baz let out a yelp, pointing at the house. “Look! Up there!” They all turned.
The house still stood, but barely, its walls knock-kneed. In the mass of flames that was once the tower room floated a blinding fireball. At its centre was a small, dark form.
“What is it?” breathed Willa, but no one answered. The form drew itself up and slowly, wings spread out to the sides. Willa gasped. “Is it ... is it Fadiyah?”
Belle grinned. “No, but also yes. In a way.”
The small, dark bird, blacker than black, dropped to the roof and hopped unconcernedly through the flames. Reaching the edge of the roof it launched itself, gliding slowly back and forth, zigzagging down to them.
Horace calmly stepped forward, his arm raised. The bird landed on his arm. It was not unlike Fadiyah, but it was a young bird, with an awkward big head and unkempt feathers. Horace gazed into its eyes and stroked its feathers before turning to them. He walked over to Willa, who looked curiously into his eyes.
“Horace? Are you ...” she faltered.
He smiled, sighed. “Yes. I’m back. For the moment anyway.” He held out his arm, offering her the bird. “The phoenix is yours, Willa. She has risen from the ashes of her mother, and will live and thrive until it is her turn to die in the flames and give birth to the next generation.”
The bird hopped onto Willa’s arm and shook its wings. Willa coughed as soot and ashes showered over her. The others laughed.
“So ... what’s next?” It was Tengu.
Willa was already nodding, deep in thought. The words spilled out. “Mab can start her knitting again, if we can find her some needles. Then we can go back ... Robert, Mab, and the tree nymphs can hide in the stable. We’ll need to find a chair for Belle, and —”
She suddenly stopped, remembering Miss Trang was back. She glanced sheepishly up at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I ...”
Everyone was grinning at her, which made her blush wildly. Miss Trang too was smiling fondly at her, which made Willa more than a little nervous.
“No, that’s all right, Willa. You have everything under control.”
Willa wasn’t sure if Miss Trang was mocking her, but it didn’t sound like it. So she drew a deep breath, and her voice was steady and assured. “Right. Baz, look for a chair and a blanket for Belle. Mab, see what you can dig up for knitting needles. Horace, you and Robert see to the stable. And Tengu, help me hide Dinah!”
Dinah seemed happy enough to descend into her old home in the pool, out of all the excitement, and they laid the big blue tarp over her. Robert made himself comfortable in the stable. Baz found a blanket to cover Belle, but her wheelchair was lost in the blaze. The best that could be done was to roll her about in a wheelbarrow, which, surprisingly enough, did not elicit the slightest complaint from Belle. Mab was reunited with her wool and the wood nymphs helpfully fashioned a pair of knitting needles out of wood splinters. As Mab began to knit, Willa dashed to the front of the burning house.
The flat grey around them dropped like a curtain and the outside world loomed forward, its colours painfully vibrant. People in the street jumped back in shock, pointing at the house. Some ran off shouting. By the front walk Willa saw her mother slowly rising from the ground, looking up fearfully, but the birds were gone.
“Mom! MOM!”
Willa streaked toward her, threw her arms around her and buried her face in the fuzzy housecoat.
“Willa, honey, it’s all right. Everything’s all right,” her mother cooed. Willa lifted her head and looked thoughtfully up at her mom. Her mother started in surprise, put a hand to Willa’s hair.
“What? What is it?” Willa felt her hair as the others congregated around them, Tengu pushing Belle in the wheelbarrow, and Robert absent of course. Baz held up a large shard of broken window for Willa to see her reflection in. There was a wide streak of silver running through her hair. Willa laughed.
“I look like the Bride of Frankenstein!”
Her mother put a hand to her own hair. “We can fix that up.” Belle gave her a sharp, disapproving look. Willa looked at the two women frowning at one other another, and, as the sound of fire trucks wailed in the distance, she smiled.
“It’s time to go to the ocean.”
Chapter Seventeen
The sea
Around midnight they set out. Miss Trang managed to conjure up a very thick fog, but Willa was still anxious that they might be seen and had her fingers crossed for the entire trip. Willa, Baz, Tengu, and Horace rode on Dinah, not the most comfortable ride, as she lumbered across town, her head swinging low over the pavement. Robert trotted alongside with Belle on his back and Mab up on his head. Conversation was light-hearted and friendly for a change. The old folk seemed to have forgotten all their former grievances. They joked and smiled warmly at each other. It was weird. Miss Trang walked alone behind them, quiet and thoughtful.
Willa looked up. She was just able to make out the dark form of the new bird, the phoenix, gliding back and forth above them. She felt a pang of grief for Fadiyah. It was like there was an aching gap in the world now, or at least in her world. She felt alone.
They were all tired, dead tired. The rest of the day had been a bit of a blur. The firefighters could not save the house, it was too far gone by the time they arrived. All they could do was spray water on the blackened remains until every last tendril of smoke had disappeared. Somehow Miss Trang had been able to herd them away from the centaur in the stable, the fairy woods, and the tarpaulin-covered dinosaur. And luckily Willa spotted the bedraggled hibiscus before the firefighters could trample it under their big boots. She carried it carefully to the woods, replanting it and patting down the earth around it. The wood nymphs were uncharacteristically sweet, swarming briefly around her head and giving her faint little pecks on the cheek.
Out front the neighbours gathered, chattering excitedly and marvelling at how quickly the house had gone up. Mr. and Mrs. Hackett circulated through the crowd, speaking darkly of mysterious goings-on to anyone who would listen, but nobody took them too seriously. At dusk the fire trucks rolled away, signalling there would be no more excitement here today, and the crowd reluctantly withdrew as well.
Now, under cover of night and fog, they were on their way to the ocean. After an hour of walking the city disappeared behind them and the ocean’s soothing pulse grew louder and louder. They felt a cool breeze coming in from the water. Dinah’s pace quickened. The fog fell away and the full moon shone on them like a spotlight as they stepped onto the beach. Willa looked around nervously, but they were in luck. There was no one in sight.
The ocean shone before them, glittering and vast. Dinah paused just long enough for everyone to slide off, her feet shuffling impatiently. Willa gave her a last hug and looked into the huge, moist eye. Dinah bobbed her head a couple of times and turned away, wading out to sea.
The rest of them stood quietly on the shore, watching as Dinah’s head grew smaller and smaller.
Willa looked up at Miss Trang. “What will happen to her?”
“I’m not sure. She was certainly out of her element here ... most likely was swept up somehow in our time talisman. Out there sh
e may find her way back to her own world. The ocean lives by its own rules, time-wise.”
Willa could see Belle urging Robert forward, her eyes shining with excitement. Robert grumbled about the cold but waded in until Belle was able to slide off, clothes and all, into the waves with a splash and a happy shriek. In a moment her head popped up again, her hair glittering silver in the moonlight as she swam.
Willa turned back to Miss Trang, curious. “So ... you didn’t know Dinah was in the yard at all?”
Miss Trang shrugged. “Oh, I knew something was back there but I never got around to taking a closer look.” She looked a little sheepish. “It was on my to-do list, along with repainting the place and getting the roof reshingled.” Here her voice became a sigh. “Won’t have to worry about those things now.”
Willa turned to look up the beach. She could just make out the shape of her grandfather’s little house, but there was no light on. Out in the water Belle had vanished from sight. Willa gasped. “She’s gone!”
Miss Trang just smiled. “Oh, I think she’s too fond of Baz’s scones to leave us. Besides, Belle’s only part mermaid now.” Miss Trang looked down at Willa. Her voice faltered a little. “I haven’t ... thanked you properly for looking after them for me. You ... you did a good job.”
She looked away again. Willa smiled. She knew that was probably as much praise as Miss Trang ever gave to anyone. The others sat in the sand, waving to Belle, who had re-emerged, happily swimming back and forth.
Willa glanced nervously down the beach once more. An indistinct figure walked slowly toward the ocean, stopping at the silvery waterline. Willa held her breath. It was her mom. She hadn’t seen them, not yet — she was gazing out to sea. A small rowboat soon appeared, Grandpa pulling at the oars, his back to them. As Willa watched, he stopped rowing and quietly shipped his oars, gazing up at the brilliant moon.
The group fell silent. Belle had spotted him too, her head barely above the water as she swam silently toward him. Then with a flip of her tail, she dove under the boat. Willa held her breath. After what seemed an eternity there was a silvery flash, and another and another. Grandpa cried out in astonishment as fish, dozens of them, leaped out of the water, soaring right into his boat, a glittering waterfall of fish. The rhythmic thunking sound could be heard from shore. Grandpa turned, looking all around, finally spotting Belle’s head in the water. They stared at each other for a long time.
Willa felt tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered.
Behind her she heard Baz mutter, “Oh, you poor dear.” And up the beach she saw her mother turn away and disappear into the dark trees.
Willa kicked off her shoes and took a couple steps into the water. It was cold. Between waves she caught glimpses of herself in the water, the silver in her hair shining in the moonlight.
Copyright © Kim Thompson, 2012
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Project Editor: Michael Carroll
Editor: Allister Thompson
Design: Jennifer Scott
Epub Design: Carmen Giraudy
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Thompson, Kim, 1964-
Eldritch Manor [electronic resource] / Kim Thompson.
Electronic monograph.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 978-1-4597-0356-8
I. Title.
We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program. We also acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and Livres Canada Books, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Media Development Corporation.
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