The Secret of the Double Rainbow
4.
David looked carefully at the feline. Was it the same one as the night before? Perhaps he was clutching at straws. It was true, he admitted, that he didn’t have much attention for noticing details. There was a lot of detail in the back ground, and it was not as though he had studied the painting very closely. If a cat was there, he would have had no cause to notice it before now. Logically, he only now noticed it because he thought he had seen one the previous night. Or he had subconsciously noticed it, and it had integrated with his dreams. It would explain things. Certainly a cat was in the background, but so were flowers, birds and even another person far off in the distance. If he had seen a bird, could he have said that it came from the painting? He was letting his imagination run away with him and he knew it.
His Uncle Ben walking into the room interrupted him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” he said, but in truth, he was feeling very feverish now. His nose was running and his eyes were burning. Uncle Ben handed him a big box of tissues, smiled and said that he thought they’d come in handy. He put them on the nightstand and then sat at the end of his bed.
“So, lad, tell me of this dream you had so vivid like, if you’re up for it, that is.” He smiled good-naturedly and David had the impression that he was glad for any time away from his wife. He looked at his uncle and thought about whether to tell him or not. Despite his apparent timidness, Ben really was a good man and David liked him a lot. He wondered how he had ended up marrying someone like Aunt Mary and felt an ally in him. So, despite his awkwardness, he told Ben the story.
“I couldn’t find any cat and it was either a dream or a ghost. Do you believe in ghosts, Uncle Ben?” he finished.
“Eh?” said Ben, sounding surprised at the unexpectedness of the question. “Ghosts? Now there’s a thing I’ve always been in two minds about. Now Mary, she’s definitely got views on that. She’ll tell you there ain’t no such animal, but me, I’m not so sure. How can we know for sure if something is or isn’t, if you catch my drift. Just because you and I mayn’t have seen one, it don’t mean that there are none about to be seen, does it? Kangaroos existed for thousands of years, and yet no one had ever seen one before they came to this country, so maybe we just don’t know how to look for ghost proper like.”
“I’ve never thought about it much before now,” said David. “I mean, I’ve thought it was possible, but I never had much cause to think about it until last night.” He looked earnestly at his uncle. “Do you think I dreamt the whole thing? I mean, it really did feel so lifelike.”
“Son, there are a lot of strange things in this world that we know nothing of. And I reckon this house is one of them.” He glanced furtively at the door and lowered his voice down to a whisper so David had to lean closer to him and hear what he was saying. “Sometimes, I get up in the middle of the night, you know, and I fancy I see something running down the hall myself. There’s never anything there so I figures it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.” David felt a thrill run through his body as his listened entranced. “Now me, I mentioned it to Mary one time and she says to me: ‘Don’t be so foolish Ben York, you’re still asleep, you are.’ Maybe she was right and maybe she wasn’t. Like I said, there’s much in this world we don’t know about.”
David felt a surge of excitement. Ben had seen something? Perhaps it was real after all. “Do you think you were dreaming?”
“Eh? Well yes, I would reckon so. The night can do strange things to a mind, you know. You see, I do my best not to awaken if I should have to get up. Now, if I were to see it before going to bed, then that there would be another story, but that hasn’t happened. He looked at David and thought for a moment. “Now don’t go telling your Aunt Mary this or she’ll have a go at me for encouraging you.”
David smiled and nodded to show he understood. “There’s a cat in that painting,” he said.
Ben took a careful look. “Why so there is. Maybe that’s what made you think you saw a cat. Dreams can be terribly real, you know, and when all is said and done, you probably did dream the whole thing. Ghosts are one thing, but the door; well that’s a whole new bucket of fish, that is. You would have had to travel back in time and we both know there is no possible way such a thing could happen.”
At the moment, Mary walked in with some medicine. “Now, don’t you go keeping the boy awake, Ben York,” she said. “He’ll be needing sleep if he’s to recover.” David took his medicine and they bade him goodnight. He found he was more than happy to drift off as he was tired and soon he fell asleep.
It was a few hours later when he awoke. His throat felt like it was made of gravel and he had trouble swallowing. He looked at the time and saw that once again it was twelve thirty. He reached next to the bed and felt for the lozenges that he had bought at the chemist. He prayed that their claim of reducing the symptoms was more than just hype. The curtains were drawn open; no doubt by Mary, and the moon was a little brighter than the previous night. The painting clearly seemed to be absorbing the light and he was easily able to make out the two ladies. He could only imagine that the artist had used luminous paints. Fumbling somewhat in the dark, he managed to unwrap the lozenge and put it in his mouth. He laid back, the taste of the tablet flowing into and lubricating his throat, bringing some minor relief.
His eyes were drawn to the painting, the two figures taking on a ghostly quality as they seemed to shine with their own light. The cat’s eyes were also glowing, and almost looked as though they were closer than they should be. It took him a few moments before he realized that they were in fact, not part of the painting. The cat was back and perched on the end of his bed.
He shrieked through the lozenge, which ended up getting expelled from his mouth and lost somewhere in the dark. “You’re dreaming,” he said to himself. He had to admit that he couldn’t be sure if he was awake. His head was heavy and his mind felt like it was full of cotton wool. Still the eyes stared unblinkingly at him.
“Okay,” he said to it, “so you’re clearly a stray who’s found his way inside. I’m too sick to worry about it right now! You can stay there for all I care.”
In answer, the cat remained in its place and began a loud purr. In spite of what he had said, David propped himself up on his pillow and leaned forward to try and stroke it. As he did, it jumped and headed towards the door, a dark silhouette, clearly moving in the faint moonlight. Once more it vanished through it, as though it had never been there. David looked back towards the painting. The cat eyes had gone, though the girls were still clearly shining.
He felt numb with fear and disbelief. Should he go and see if it was there in the hallway? Was he even up to it? He knew that if his aunt caught him running about at this time, she would skin him alive, sick or not. Still, he could always say that he had to go to the bathroom and lost his way. This sounded like a feeble excuse, but then he supposed that because he was sick, he might get away with it.
He stood up, feet touching the cold, wooden floorboards and almost jumped back into bed. He probed around with a foot for warm sheepskin slippers, and put them on. He grabbed his warm dressing gown and felt a little better. A little better still meant that he was still feeling a lot worse. He groped for another lozenge and put it in his mouth. For long moments, he stood, undecided what he should do. He felt so unsteady on his feet and the bed had been warm and inviting. He sighed. One thing he was certain of was that he would not be able to go back to sleep if he didn’t investigate. Was it worth chasing a cat once again down the hallway? He was risking making even sicker? Well, surely a quick look couldn’t make it any worse.
He slowly opened the door and shone his torch down the hallway. It was empty. Good, he though. No point going any further then. He shone the light once more, just to make sure and the beam hit the door at the far end. There was a distinct glint. He held the light steady. Yes, there was definitely something glimmering. Was it the handle? Could it be that the door was open again? Was such a thing possible? He had to know. If this was a dream, then there was no harm, he decided. And if it wasn’t, then they could hardly blame him for looking, could they?
Quietly and quickly, he moved down the hallway towards the door. He was badly shivering. He wished the house was centrally heated. No wonder he was sick.
He reached the door and inspected the handle. Yes, it was like new. This was impossible. His mind felt like it was doing somersaults. Nervously, he put his hand on the lever and pushed. It moved easily. He pushed and the door opened. He was feeling light headed and slightly disoriented. He thought he heard a noise so he stopped and listened to see if anyone was getting up. All was quiet. Suddenly, he began to shake. Everything seemed to take on a surreal like quality. Maybe I am dreaming, he thought to himself. He did so much want to go through the door, but was petrified of what might lay in wait. It was pitch black and suddenly, all the exciting things he imagined faded from his mind. He was left with a dark room that scared him, but worse still, he could not turn back now and go to bed knowing that an open door might contain who knows what to come and visit him while he was sleeping? Even in this state of mind, part of him knew that this was all being blown out of proportion.
Finally, he decided that he couldn’t stand there all night, and he was feeling decidedly groggy. Either he acted now, or went back to bed. He knew that he would never forgive himself if he didn’t pass through. What if the opportunity never came again? With this last thought in his mind, he tentatively pushed the door open wide enough for him to enter, and with his young heart beating wildly, he stepped through.
