The Secret of the Double Rainbow
2.
It was now two week since he arrived and the school term was fast approaching its end. David had quickly discovered there was very little to do but his homework and duties.
There was no television. Mary said she hated the programs shown and Ben only was interested in the news, which he got from the radio and his newspaper.
David might have enjoyed listening to the radio but it was always set to the ABC where a deadpan voice would either be reading the news or explaining the intricacies of a piece of classical music. This was Ben’s passion and Mary didn’t have much time for it herself. She called it funeral music. David just missed the songs that were played on the commercial stations.
He was bored and more often than not, he would be drawn to the locked door whenever he was headed towards the stairs. He had already lost count of the amount of times he had stood in front of it and tried its handle, as though some magic was going to make it move.
He didn’t understand his obsession with it. All he knew was that he felt drawn to whatever mysteries might lie beyond. Personally, he believed it was because he didn’t have enough to do.
Boredom was his main enemy. Each day was much like the last. Each meal had a staple of over-boiled vegetables and tough meat. The only thing Mary was truly good at making was her hot chocolates, and she ensured they had one every night before going to bed. She prided herself on the fluffy and sweet drinks she would make and boasted that they were better than what you would buy in a café. David agreed.
He had now written to his mother several times. It wasn’t so much that he missed her or out of a sense of duty. It was simply out of boredom. He didn’t dare to mention he wasn’t having much fun lest she should decide to send for him. He told her how he was helping around the house and gave a list of his duties. She had written back and said she was having a good time and was glad he was, too.
So far, he had found the experience anything but the break he had been hoping to have. In his mind, he had built up an exciting scenario where he would always be doing things with Ben and Mary. Going out to place, working and laughing together and generally enjoying each other’s company. Of course, it had not been anything like that. Ben kept mostly to himself and Mary spent most of her time with her friends or on the phone gossiping. While, it was true that she was a good-hearted lady, she had had very little experience with children or teenagers and didn’t understand how they thought or acted. Because of this, she decided that if she was firm on David and he was shown his place right away, it would prevent any problems from arising later. She had read enough and gossiped enough to form the idea that ‘the youth of today were mostly hooligans and troublemakers’. David was actually quite the opposite, but once Mary got an idea stuck into her head, very little was able to shift it.
David had no problems with doing the chores asked of him and had found that they were not as bad as he had first feared. As he had nothing better to do than his school homework, he found that it helped pass time. The only task he truly hated was working in the garden. It was frustrating. He really didn’t know a weed from a flower, and what’s more he didn’t care. So far, though, he had been lucky. Even when the weather had looked fine, it would be no more than half an hour before it clouded over and started to rain. Mary agreed that it was foolish and pointless for him to be working in those conditions.
It also got dark early because it was winter. By the time he had done all his duties, night had already fallen, and he found himself with little to do but read and listen to the radio. The lounge room had a large bookcase, but there wasn’t much of interest to read for him as most of the books belonged to Ben and were about accountancy, which was his profession. So for the first time in his life, he threw himself into his studies. This was preferable to being bored out of mind. He would often retire early to his bedroom and spend most of the evening studying until he was tired enough to fall asleep on his old lumpy bed. For the first time in his life, he wished that the holidays weren’t coming because he dreaded the thought of two weeks with nothing to do but tedious chores and homework.
He had begun to think that maybe he should have chosen a boarding school instead. At least he would have had other people his own age to be around with. It seemed like an attractive thought; however David really had a lot of difficulties relating to those his age. He didn’t relate to them, and he felt that they didn’t understand him. He hated sports and the few parties he’d gone to appeared to be nothing but an excuse for drinking, smoking and drugs. He had no interest in those things and had turned down invites to nightclubs for the same reason. He longed for company, but paradoxically, he just wanted to spend his time alone.
This contradiction was lost on him right now for the night was a particularly miserable one. Heavy rain pounded relentlessly on the window. The fire crackled behind him, warming him in his misery. Tomorrow was the last day of school and he was not looking forward to it at all. He turned from the window, and headed up stairs to his room. It was much colder on the first floor and he climbed quickly into his bed.
Eventually, he turned off the lamp on his nightstand and listened to the rain pelting down outside. The only bright thing about the weather was that he wasn’t expected to work in the garden. The sound of raindrops soon lulled him to sleep.
It was only a few hours later when he woke up. He looked at the small alarm clock next to the bed. It was only twelve thirty. The rain had stopped and in the typical Melbourne fashion, the sky had completely cleared, revealing the beginnings of a full moon. The moonlight was particularly bright and lit up the room enough to show the furniture and the painting. The painting on the wall was lit up enough for him to see it clearly. The young ladies almost seemed to glow. He wondered who they were. When had they lived and was it in this house. His imagination started to kick in. In his mind’s eye he saw the girls, playful, innocent and full of joy. They were playing in a garden. Images of highly coloured flowers and deep green, lush grass started to fill his mind. He imagined himself with them. Each of them took one of his hands.
He suddenly jerked back to reality. He had started to doze, just briefly, and he swore that he had felt their touch. His hands, tingled, slightly and he gently rubbed them.
The dream had left him with an intense feeling of loneliness. The need for companions his own age suddenly became overwhelming. He didn’t have any real friends. There were a few acquaintances who he went out with from time to time, but they always felt alien to him and they rarely seemed interested in who he was or what he was up to himself.
He tried to drift back to the pleasant dream, but found he was too restless. He tossed and turned, feeling every lump on the mattress. There was no getting comfortable and he had too much energy to just lie there. It was unusual for him to be so awake at this time. Normally, if he ever woke up after midnight, he’d roll over and go back to sleep. Perhaps, he mused, he didn’t have enough things to expend his energy on. He decided to use a technique that had always worked before. To go over, in his mind, what he learned in his most boring subject at school, which was accountancy.
He had just gotten to the second chapter of his workbook when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft noise. He realized that he had been listening to it for a few seconds, or was it a few minutes, before it had registered. It sounded like an engine running, or was it more like a cat purring? Of course, it couldn’t be a cat, as there were no pets here. He shifted a bit, his head lifting slightly from his pillow. The noise sounded close by. It was definitely the sound of purring.
Instantly his mind worked out what must have happened. A cat had gotten in through his open window. He thought it was closed, but Mary must have opened it to air the room and he had obviously failed to notice it. No wonder the room was freezing.
He reached for the switch to turn on the lamp, but stopped himself. Turning on the light might startle the intruder. His flashlight might be a better idea, as he could direct the light. He groped for it and turned it on. He moved the beam back and forth, scanning the room for the cat, but found nothing. He realized that the torch idea was probably not such a good idea after all.
He listened carefully, but realized that the purring had stopped. From having cats at home, he suspected it had now cloistered itself under the bed.
Grumbling, he got up and shivered in the frigid air. He crouched on the cold wooden floor and swept the light under the bed, but found nothing. He stood back up and did another quick search, but the room was empty of any intruders.
“Good,” he muttered to himself: a habit he had since he was young. Speaking to himself helped clarify what he was thinking. “I’ll close that window and maybe I can get some sleep.”
He turned towards the window only to find it was not open. He pushed against the chilled pane, but it didn’t budge. It was clearly closed and latched shut.
He looked through the glass hoping to see some clue. The stars shone brightly in the clear night sky. There was no sign of the source of the noise. “Imagination?” It must have been.
He decided to try and get back to sleep. Perhaps his sleeplessness was caused by there being too much light from the moon. He closed the curtains to block out the moonlight, pressed the off button on the torch and turned around.
He let out a small yelp. At the foot of his bed were two small luminous dots.. Two green eyes stared plainly at him. His heart thumped as he fumbled with sweaty hands to turn the torch back on. It appeared to take forever, as he fumbled along the plastic tube to find the right button and hit it. At last it came back on and he turned it on the eyes. Or where the eyes had just been, rather. A small shape jumped off the bed, just a split second before he lit the area and moved towards the door, out of his sight.
“It’s a cat!” he reminded himself. “It’s nothing to freak out over.” He wondered how it had got into his room. As far as he knew, the York’s had no animals, Mary going as far to say that pets where filthy creatures that only got underfoot and caused all sorts of mess and bother.
So where had this one had come from? It had to be a stray. A chill ran through him as he noticed that the door was still closed. How had it entered into his room? He certainly hadn’t noticed any animal when he had gone to bed. Of course, it wasn’t as though he had looked for one, either.
Shivering with cold, he grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped it around himself and felt much warmer.
Once more, he swept the beam of light around the room, and checked under the bed once again, but found nothing. Perhaps it was in the wardrobe. He softly crept up, so he wouldn’t alert the cat, and jerked it open. Only his belongings were in there.
He looked at the door. Should he open it or go back to his warm bed before it got cold. He knew that sleep would not happen until he took a look outside the bedroom. He did not know why, but he felt a sense of expectation, as though something important was about to happen.
Very quietly, so he didn’t alert anyone, he pressed down slowly on the handle and pulled the door towards him. The hinges must have been well greased for it made no sound. He peered around the frame, half expecting to see nothing. He caught his breath as he saw a small shape run down toward the end of the hallway where the locked door was. The cat had made a tactical error. There was nowhere to go but back up the passage.
He shivered again. Suddenly, the idea of chasing it down a cold, uncarpeted hallway in the middle of the night didn’t thrill him, but the thought of having his own pet entered into his mind. It would certainly keep him company. He could give it some water and feed it some food and perhaps it would stick around and he wouldn’t feel so lonely.
Shining the torch down the passage, he nervously walked on the cold, wooden floor towards the end of the hallway. He felt apprehensive, a feeling that increased with each step he took. You fool, he said to himself, what are you doing walking around in the middle of the night looking for ghosts. He caught that thought. Ghosts? Now he knew his imagination was working overtime. Since when had a stray cat suddenly turned into a ghost? But then, how had it gotten through the door? Only a ghost could do that, surely. No, there had to be another explanation; a logical one. More resolutely now, he walked step by step towards the locked door.
Before he had reached the bathroom area, he had to admit that something wasn’t right. The hallway was clearly empty. If the cat had doubled back, then there was no way he could have missed it.
He reached his destination, and shined his flashlight on the door. The handle glinted and shone in the beam of light. He felt very frustrated. Was he mistaken? Maybe it hadn’t run down this way after all, but had gone down the staircase. That was the logical path it would take. He looked back down the hall. There was nothing. There was no doubt about it. It had gone down the stairs and he wasn’t about to search the entire house for it. He felt disappointed that he had lost the animal and slowly headed back to his room. Then all of a sudden, he realized that something wasn’t quite right. Did the handle on that door really shine? He had looked only this morning, and it was hardly in any state to gleam. Had Uncle Ben replaced it after all? Turning around he shone the torch on it. Yes, it was gleaming. The light was reflecting upon a smooth, shiny surface. He reached out and touched it with just one finger, as though he was testing it for heat. It felt smooth and warm. His hand seemed to glide along it, as though it was vibrating slightly. Not the least sign of rust was upon it. He pushed down and felt it easily move. Was the door unlocked? Is that where the cat went? He pushed gently and felt it open. The handle had definitely been fixed. That sly Uncle Ben! He’d be sure to mention this to him. He felt annoyed that he had not been told, though he wasn’t sure why, as it really wasn’t his business.
His thoughts were interrupted by a noise from Ben and Mary’s bedroom. Someone was coming. He wasn’t sure how he could explain his wandering around at night, and he felt that stories of a disappearing cat would not be well received, at least not by Mary.
Though he was sixteen years old, his Aunt had a way of making him feel like his was ten, and he knew a fuss would be made should he be caught. Guiltily, he closed the door and quickly ran back, just in time, to his bedroom.
Ben was making a midnight journey to the bathroom. His bladder had woken him up and not for the first time, he cursed it for the inconvenience. Ben was a light sleeper as he suffered from a sleeping disorder, though he was unaware of that.
David jumped into bed and listened to the sounds of Ben moving about for a few minutes. Soon it was all quiet again. He considered checking the door again, but he was now warm and sleepy and he now had a lot to think about. The fact that the door had been fixed had all but crowded the cat episode out of his mind. Now he could finally see what was inside that room and at least he could stop obsessing over it. He would do it first thing in the morning, before the others were up.
He drifted off to sleep. The next thing he knew was his Aunt shaking him awake telling him to get up or he’d be late for the bus. He gave a hearty sneeze and sat up bleary eyed. Wandering around in the cold night air had not been good for him. All thoughts of the previous night were temporarily forgotten in his haste to get ready, have breakfast and rush off for the final day of term.
