Soul Flyer

by Karin Raven Steininger

  It is beautiful, Ellie thought, gazing at it with wonder - even though the edges were slightly frayed, damaged perhaps by its brief sojourn in her bag.

  Eyes wide, Annie’s little outstretched hand reached forward slowly, but it was swiftly smacked back by her mother.

  ‘Answer me, Ellie’, her father growled. ‘Where did this come from?’

  Ellie fought for words, her mouth dry, and guilt seeping out from every pore.

  ‘You disobeyed me, didn’t you? Didn’t you!’ He shouted the last words and banged his hand on the table. The sound slapped the bare walls and Annie began to cry.

  ‘She didn’t, Brian.’ Claire said firmly to her husband, hugging her youngest daughter. ‘It’s a study day. Ellie’s been at Rose’s, doing her homework.’ She smiled at Ellie with pride in her warm brown eyes.

  ‘Mum… Dad...’ Ellie began, feeling awful, not daring to meet her mother’s gaze. ‘We used to hang out in the forest all the time…’

  Her father glared at her without speaking.

  Little Tom, meanwhile, had crept his fingers until they were almost touching the pile of twigs. Claire hissed, recoiling back in horror. ‘Take that thing away,’ she shuddered. ‘It’s horrible. Horrible. I won’t have it in the house.’

  Ellie stared at her in silence. ‘Mum,’ she said softly at last. ‘It’s just a nest, it won’t hurt anyone.’

  Her mother looked at her, lips thin with disappointment. ‘You said you were at Rose’s.’ Claire said, her voice brittle.

  Her father looked at her sadly and whispered. ‘Oh Ellie, what have you done?’

  ‘Dad, it’s just a nest, a tiny little nest, it blew out of the trees in the storm.’ Ellie said, relieved that his anger seemed to have disappeared.

  His roar of fury hit like a blow. ‘You were in the forest? Despite me telling you again it is off limits!’

  ‘Why?’ Ellie shouted back. ‘It’s just a bunch of trees and a stupid old dried up creek. What’s so bad? You need to get out of the house like you used to.’

  ‘You’re a fool with no understanding.’ He snapped.

  Claire bowed her head in prayer, ‘Thank you Lord for leading us,’ she murmured, beginning to pray softly.

  Ellie gripped her fists in anger. They are fools, she thought. So quick to believe any rubbish the Reverend stupid Matthew spouted.

  ‘And get rid of this thing,’ her father said firmly. ‘Now. Tonight. We will not have it in the house.’

  Ellie stared at him, choking back a giggle that threatened to burst out of her throat. She wanted to run around screaming, ‘You’re all mad, it’s a nest for God’s sake, just a nest.’

  Ben, who over the years had soothed Ellie’s temper and tried to reason her side with their devoutly religious parents, had been listening quietly. He walked over to her, placing his hand heavily on her shoulder.

  ‘Ellie,’ he began, his voice uneasy. ‘Listen, it’s all different now, if you came to the meetings more, you’d know.’

  She didn't look up. ‘What are you talking about?’ she scowled.

  Ben turned her chin to face him. ‘Get rid of it, Ellie,’ he warned softly, ‘it could drive you mad.’

  ‘But not in here,’ cut in their mother, hugging Annie and Tom close to her chest.

  Ellie stared up at her brother, waiting for him to grin or wink, but he was perfectly serious. With a pointed sigh, she scraped back her chair, not quite believing all this hysteria was over one wonky nest that she’d found tossed about in a bunch of trees.

  Head down, Ellie gathered the bundle from the table and a few snapped twigs scattered down. Her mother flinched. Biting back a comment, Ellie gathered all the tiny pieces she could before quietly closing the kitchen door behind her. As she walked down the hallway, Ellie could hear her mother and father’s voices in prayer behind her, and a beat later, the sound of her brother’s husky voice joining in.

  The floorboards creaked as she headed to the small room at the back of the house, her bedroom, her sanctuary, the only part in this whole crazy place that was a tiny bit sane. Kicking the door open, Ellie stood for a moment on the threshold. Bare white walls, a narrow single bed in the corner, and desk loaded with books and potted plants scavenged from the forest and other people’s gardens.

  Outside, on the front strip near the road, an old tree creaked in the evening wind. Red with smooth, voluptuous limbs, its branches undulated out from its bare trunk. One hung close to the house, its leaves gently hitting the wooden walls. Ellie opened her window and a gust of gritty air swirled into her room, lifting the school papers on her desk.

  The back door crashed open and she could hear her brother’s heavy boots hurrying down the steps. A moment later, the incinerator lid clanged to the ground. Hugging herself, Ellie stared up into the night as fingers of red-tinged smoke began to drift over the roofs of the houses opposite. Further away, another burst of lightning split the sky.

  Ellie watched as the storm disappeared. She turned to hide the strange stone behind the books on her desk, and shoved the wonky nest into the bottom of her clothes cupboard.

  THREE

  Ellie woke with a jolt, the last frenzied images of a dream vanishing the moment she opened her eyes. Grimacing, she tried to lick her lips, but her tongue felt thick and strange, and her mouth dry. It tasted horrible and she felt awful; her belly was knotted, weighed down by a sick sense of foreboding. Ellie exhaled loudly. She’d slept badly that was all, half in and out of her covers, and the night was so hot that in the end she’d just kicked them off in disgust.

  Fumbling in the dark for her bedside clock, Ellie sat up. A glow flashed up into her face: 8.30 a.m. She squeezed her eyes shut; they felt irritated and sore, edged with some kind of grit. It didn't make sense. How could it be 8.30 in the morning? She glanced up; her room looked weird, shrouded in a dark night-time silence and yet, standing tall and solid in the corner, her clothes cupboard appeared oddly visible, laced with a fine red haze seeping in from the window.

  Ellie climbed out of bed and, stepping over her clothes on her way to the window, pushed the curtains open and peered out into the street.

  A mist hung low, the colour of blood ochre or flaked, rusty iron. It covered the lawn and draped over the houses opposite, reducing the muscular, old gum tree out front into a dim, ghost-grey outline. The sky was a flat, dark red. A disc hung low, ringed by a milky blue halo, it emitted a wavering, feeble light. Ellie yawned, wondering if somehow she was still asleep. Her senses felt dull, muted, like she was caught in some kind of strange, unfathomable dream.

  Wrenching the window open, Ellie leant over the sill, trying to see further. She coughed, her throat irritated by a dry persistent scratching, but that was the only sound. In the gritty air, no car engine, no child’s shriek disturbed the silent calm. The street, indeed the entire surrounding suburb, sat empty, covered in a strange red mist, devoid of any sign of life.

  Ellie’s heart thudded. Breathing quickly, she tried to think.

  Pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she slid to the floor, where she sat for a long moment, gazing dumbly around her room. An eddy of dust spiralled slowly before her gaze.

  Oh my God.. Ellie dropped her head in her hands and tried to think. It had happened.

  Ellie had never actually paid that much attention what they’d said in the meetings, but… it had actually happened. Like they were continually warned. The prophesy; everyone gone, taken full in body to heaven.

  And she was left behind.

  I could just go back to sleep, Ellie thought, gazing into the gloom, and hope to never, ever wake up.

  She breathed slowly. Then, out of the silence came a loud, sharp crash, followed by an indignant yell.

  ‘Ellie, get on down here and help your brother clean up this mess!’

  Frozen in stunned surprise, Ellie leapt to her feet and dashed down the hallway. Thick clouds of grit churned as Ellie pushed open the kitchen door. The air cleared and she could see her mother on the floor
streaking a trail through the dust with a rag.

  ‘Please Ellie,’ Claire sighed.

  At the backdoor, Annie and Tom were standing with their noses pressed against the glass, staring out at the mess in the yard.

  She coughed, feeling oddly embarrassed.

  ‘It’s happening as was foretold.’ Her father turned, his weatherworn features reflecting a calm, satisfied gaze. ‘And the Lord watches over His own.’

  Elle didn't reply. She traced a line through the layer of red grit coating the top of the bench. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘It’s muck, Ellie. Muck, from the centre of the country.’ Ellie’s mother got up off the floor and rinsed the cloth out at the sink. ‘And it’s just such a nuisance. It would’ve blown in on the storms last night, didn’t you hear it?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of...’ Ellie’s voice trailed off. She frowned ‘But I thought I was just dreaming.’

  The wire door to the porch banged open. ‘Hey, can someone give me a hand?’ Ben stomped inside, his hair and clothes layered in dust.

  ‘Don’t come dragging that in here.’ Claire snapped, shooing him outside. ‘Get cleaned up under the tap, I won’t have it.’

  ‘But there’s still crap all over the yard!’

  ‘Don’t you use that language!’ spluttered Claire, her face heating red with indignation, ‘You know I-’

  ‘I’ll help,’ interrupted Ellie, as she pushed him outside into the dust choked air.

  ✽✽✽

  By late morning the yard was clear, though the day remained suffocatingly hot. Inside the house was dark and quiet, the curtains drawn to protect the rooms from the heat and the fine powdery grit. In the living room, seated in his favourite chair, Ellie’s father jotted down notes, nodding as he checked lines and graphs on the family computer. Ellie crept past, with her bag slung over her shoulder.

  Easing her bike out of the shed, she wheeled it out and onto the street. Adjusting a damp scarf tied around her nose and mouth, Ellie rode low over the handlebars, breathing as shallowly as she could, as rows of suburban houses blurred behind her in the dusty air.

  A few turns later and Ellie joined the road that hugged the edge of the cliffs, winding around sharp bends and rocks worn smooth by the once relentless splash of mountain streams. Lifting her feet off the pedals, she freewheeled down the last long hill and into the neighbouring town. The houses here were the grandest in the whole area, each one made of solid stone with high windows and jutting balconies, commanding the best views over the valley.

  Heaving against its weight, Ellie pushed open the iron gate of the largest house of all. Dropping her bike, she wiped her face and grimaced at the damp streak of red. Ellie shoved her scarf into the pocket of her jeans and glanced down at the summerhouse tucked away at the bottom of the garden. A fresh crack had appeared in the glass, and half the structure lay obscured by dead clumps of ivy that fell into the silted pond beneath.

  Not so long ago, when the weather had been cooler and Ellie had been younger, she’d played with her friend Rose in the garden while their mothers looked on, bright and smiling. Now it was too hot to play and Rose’s mother had gone, taken by a lingering disease with a common name.

  A shadow moved in one of the upstairs windows as she rapped on the back door; it was the sharp profile of the Reverend Matthew Hopkins. She half waved hello, but he turned away. Ellie dropped her hand; her friend’s father never seemed particularly pleased to see her, as he rarely smiled or said hello. She shrugged; at least he hadn’t tried to keep them apart.

  The sound of feet running on wooden floors interrupted Ellie’s thoughts. The door flew open and a riot of feathers, perfume, and silk scarves descended as she was enveloped in a tight, laughing hug.

  ‘Oh my God, hi,’ Rose coughed. ‘What crazy weather.’ Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed Ellie by the hand. ‘Come on!’ She commanded, pulling her at once into a cool, dark world.

  In the panelled hallway, Rose turned and smiled at Ellie; her eyes, a brown so light they were almost golden, shone with delight. ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘I was going completely mad. But look, I’ve found the most marvellous clothes.’

  She twirled around, showing off a short, black-crocheted dress and rainbow tights. Flicking a red and black feather boa dramatically across her shoulders, Rose grinned and shook her long dark hair until it curled all the way down her back.

  ‘Ta dah,’ she posed, smiling. ‘But let’s not go on about me, let’s find something for you. Come on.’

  ‘Oh my God, where did you find these?’

  ‘In a box hidden in the attic.’ Rose giggled, and then stopped as a door creaked open upstairs and a footstep trod heavily on the floor boards. ‘Eek, come on.’

  The two girls ran laughing down the hallway and up a different flight of stairs at the back of the house. Scooting past the library, they burst into Rose’s bedroom. It was huge and bright with high ceilings and windows, almost three times the size of Ellie’s, but it too was sparsely furnished with bare walls and narrow bed. Tossed in the middle of the floor was a riot of colour and fabrics.

  ‘Here, try this.’

  Crocheted in white silk, beaded at the neck and sleeves with tiny iridescent pearls, the dress was so beautiful Ellie could only reach out and stroke the soft fabric.

  ‘My God, where did you find it?’

  ‘I told you, in a box at the back of the attic.’ Rose shrugged, nonchalantly, eyeing her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘What were you doing in the attic, are you allowed up there?’

  ‘Oh, I was bored. Enough with the questions!’ Rose tossed her head defiantly. ‘Dad was crowing about the weather, he was driving me nuts,’ she paused and glanced out the window with a frown. ‘But the weather is getting weirder, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Ellie agreed, following her gaze. ‘I was so freaked out I thought it had actually happened, you know, the End of the World.’

  Rose snorted. ‘Yeah, me too. I thought Daddy had finally risen to heaven and I was could get some peace, finally.’

  They both giggled and at Rose’s urging, Ellie took off her top and jeans and slipped the white dress over her head. Lined with soft peach silk, it felt gentle and cool against her skin. Ellie had never worn anything like this before and she looked down, suddenly feeling shy.

  ‘Here try this too.’ Rose tossed her a long, pale green scarf. Ellie held it up against her face in the mirror.

  ‘Ooh it matches your eyes.’ Rose said, teasing. Ellie’s eyes flashed green as she laughed, watching herself in the mirror. And then she sighed. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

  ‘Well, so are we,’ giggled Rose, blowing herself a kiss.

  ‘Yeah…’ breathed Ellie, almost afraid to believe it.

  Rose grabbed her hand and they stood admiring themselves. Ellie’s long, red-gold hair contrasting with her friend’s locks of raven black. Striking poses, Rose and Ellie pouted and blew kisses, undulating their bodies until they were giggling so loudly they didn’t hear the first sharp rap at the door.

  Bending forward, Ellie leant to kiss herself in the glass as a second loud knock thudded on the door. It swung open wide. In the glass, she saw the appalled reflection of Rose’s father standing in the doorway, his Adam’s apple working in fury as though choked too full of words to speak.

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’ Matthew spat out at last.

  The red feather boa curled onto the floor. ‘Hey Daddy,’ Rose began smiling.

  He cut her off, his blue eyes bulging with outrage. ‘Where did you get those clothes? They’re not yours.’ His glance cut sharply to Ellie. ‘You look like prostitutes,’ he snapped, coldly.

  Heat flooded her face and Ellie dropped the green scarf to the floor. Beside her Rosie merely laughed as she turned to face her father. ‘Don’t say that, Daddy, really. That’s mean.’ She smiled again and stepped closer, sashaying a little towards him.

  He averted his eyes. ‘Just take the
dresses off, Rosalind.’ He backed away. ‘And now.’ Bumping into the back of the wall, the Reverend fled down the hallway.

  Rosie turned back to Ellie and, picking up the green scarf, she twirled it around her neck with a cheeky grin.

  Ellie glanced down at the clothes heaped over the wooden floor. ‘I wonder who they belong to?’

  Rose kicked at the pile. ‘Who knows,’ she sniffed in disdain. ‘The attic’s full of old junk.’

  ‘Maybe they’re his?’

  Rose grinned. ‘Yeah, he probably wears them in his spare time.’

  Ellie’s eyes widened and they both collapsed helpless with laughter on the bed.

  ‘Hey.’ Rose jumped up. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  ‘Where?’ spluttered Ellie, ‘it’s so stinking hot and horrible.’

  ‘Your favourite place,’ Rose grinned, glancing out at the red dusty sky. Ellie hesitated, remembering the fury on her father’s face the night before.

  ‘Oh come on,’ Rose pulled at her hand, ‘I won’t tell if you won’t tell, and besides, what can be so wrong?’

  FOUR

  Closing the heavy front door behind her, Ellie wrapped her scarf again around her face. The day was still suffocatingly close. Though some of the dust had lifted, particles of grit remained swirling in the air.

  At the lookout at the end of the road, the valley stretched out, draped beneath a fine red haze that faded to white over the horizon. A wail floated over the trees as a lone eagle, its wings spread wide beneath the ochre sky, swept overhead and down into the expanse below.

  ‘I think I saw that the other day.’ Ellie watched its low soaring flight.

  ‘What?’ mumbled Rose.

  Ellie pushed her scarf out of her mouth. ‘You know, that Wedge-tailed eagle. I thought they’d all gone extinct.’

  ‘Well, whatever, I guess they’re back.’

  From the clifftop the two friends followed the wooden stairs that led down to the path hewn into the side of the cliff. Rose led the way, she was older than Ellie – sixteen, and she marched down the steps filling the air with comments about what clothes she would buy if only her father wasn’t so mean.