The Secret of the Double Rainbow
7.
When David awoke, he couldn’t remember why he was feeling so oddly unsettled. He was feeling alert and fully recovered, something that he found disconcerting as it was only the day before that he wished that someone would shoot him and put him out of his misery. Still, it was more than that. Then the memory of the night events returned to him.
His stomach knotted with embarrassment as he thought about how he had reacted towards Holly. He felt he had made a complete idiot out of himself. Or had he? In the morning light, he began to doubt if it really happened. He reached over and grabbed his diary and read it. Yes, it certainly was up to the point where he had been interrupted by the scratching. No, no, it’s real, he thought. If it isn’t then I am going insane.
He shook his head in disbelief. It was real, but how could he prove it? Who was going to believe him? Should he have tried to bring back something? Somehow he didn’t think showing someone a flower or a blade of grass was going to be terribly convincing. He then remembered the golden dove and how he had lost it, and theorized that perhaps he might not be allowed to bring back any evidence.
Evidence! Yes, he had left the door open. That would prove everything, or at least that there was something strange going on. It was still early. His aunt would be up in another hour as it was a Monday and Ben had to go to work. It was a perfect time to check the door.
He quickly put on this dressing gown and looked out his bedroom door. It was still dark, but now light enough for him to see down to the end of the hall. The door looked closed. Maybe, though, the torch had stopped it from closing completely.
As he approached the door, he saw it was clearly closed again and his torch was nowhere to be seen. This panicked him a little, as he did not want his relatives to find it as it would raise awkward questions.
A brief search failed to find it so he could only assume that it was in the closet itself. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that but as he couldn’t get into check, there was nothing left for him to do but wait. It did give him ideas about other things he could leave in there. Perhaps he could buy one of those devices that beeped when you whistled. If he left it in the closet, then he could easily prove he had been in there. He imagined Mary’s face if he whistled and a beep would answer back. It was then he caught sight of a gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Not large enough so you could see anything but darkness, but certainly big enough to push a thin device through to the other side. They’d no doubt think that’s exactly what he had done. So much for that idea.
It was early and he was up and feeling good and according to what Mary had said, he had the day to himself. He looked at his watch and saw it was six thirty. This reminded him that it was supposed to be broken. He was pretty sure it was the correct time and checked it with the clock downstairs. They were close enough. Another puzzle. The watched had definitely stopped in the garden. He had studied physics in school, and as far as he knew, this went against all the laws. He had to find out more.
Today would be a perfect day to try and find out what was going on. He would go the local library and do some research into the house and discover if there was anything at all strange about its location or its history. He also planned to give some serious throught to how he could prove what he was experiencing. He badly wanted to tell someone, anyone really, about the door, Holly and the garden, but he wasn’t sure who would listen, let alone believe him. Maybe Ben would be his best bet. He’d think on that idea carefully.
He returned to his room and got dressed. As he did that, the painting caught his attention. In the growing morning light, it seemed to fade, rather than become clearer. He felt that was odd and once again mused that maybe luminous paints had been used, however they weren’t acting in the manner he would expect.
He took a closer look at it, to look for any clues he might have missed. He noticed a big one immediately. One of the girls looked very much like Holly. The face looked somewhat more intelligent, but, yes, it was her alright. She was masterfully painted, right down to her love filled eyes.
“This can’t be possible!” he muttered. “Not unless the artist knew her.” There was something else nagging at him. Something that should have been obvious. The portrait was so well done that he felt those feelings of intense love he had experienced for her well up once more within him. So entranced was he by the sight of her that he completely ignored that other girl next to her.
She must be my age. It was a happy though, for it means that maybe she would be interested in him. Then it finally occurred what had been nagging at him. This painting must be years old by now and yet Holly in the painting looked very much the same age as the Holly in the garden. He knew the painting had been done before his aunt and uncle had moved into the house, and they had lived there for a dozen or so years. At the very least, she would have had to be an adult in her twenties by now..
“Unless…” said David, not wanting to really consider it. “Unless she’s a ghost.” He then remembered her curious comment about him about another spirit and a strange thrill went right through his body. There could be no doubt about it. Holly was a ghost and he was in love with her. He was in love with a ghost! Could his life get any more bizarre?
He tried to put that thought out of his mind. It was too weird for him to deal with at that moment. He studied the rest of the picture, but his gaze kept on coming back to Holly. With a great effort he focused on the other girl. She looked around the same age; fifteen or sixteen. She had long, bracken brown, twisty, wavy hair, that almost seemed to take on the appearance of hanging branches. The effect was very both disturbing and, at the same time, becoming. She also had soft blue eyes, a smiling wide mouth which showed flashy white teeth, a button nose and very shapely figure. She too, he at last noticed, was very pretty.
He looked back at Holly. Nothing seemed as pretty as Holly. He sighed. After starring a few more minutes, he shifted his focus to the garden in the background itself. It didn’t look like the one he had been in, but then again, for all he knew, this might be a part that he hadn’t visited yet.
He then studied the cat. It was black, just like Tiger Fawn, but then he had seen many black cats who looked just like Tiger Fawn. He assumed that it probably was him. He also, for the first time, noticed, way back amongst the flower on the top extreme right of the portrait another figure, but the details were too vague to really make out that much. It was as if the artist put it in for background effect only.
There was a signature on the bottom right hand corner. It was flowing and hard to read, but he thought he could make out certain letters. After a long study, he thought the name was ‘Taiyter’, though he certainly couldn’t be sure. Maybe he could find out more about that later. He assumed that the artist was dead, but it only then occurred to him that maybe that wasn’t the case.
His study of the picture was interrupted by Mary, poking her head around the door.
“My goodness! You’re up!” she said, sounding surprised. “You should be resting in bed.”
“I’m feeling better,” he said. “In fact, I feel the best I’ve felt in a long while.”
She came and felt his forehead and looked into his eyes. “That’s a remarkable recovery, if it’s true,” she remarked. “You were not doing well last night and I’d fully expected you to be in bed the entire day.”
David nodded. “I know,” he said. “but I’m feeling fully recovered. I’ve been taking those lozenges that promise a quick recovery, so maybe that’s it.”
“Maybe,” she said, doubtfully. She thought for a moment and then seemed decided. “Well, you’re the best judge, David. Still, you are to take it easy, I don’t want you relapsing on us.”
“Maybe some fresh air would do me good.”
“Nothing wrong with fresh air,” she agreed.
“And you did say I could have the day to myself when I felt better.”
“Yes, I did, didn’t I. Well, perhaps it will do you good to get out for a bit. But you make sure you don’t overdo it and you keep warm.”
“I’m going to the library.”
She nodded her approval. “And make sure you eat something.”
“I’m hungry right now,” he said. “I’d like to join you both for breakfast.”
“Of course, of course,” she said. “Eggs and toast today.”
They went down to join Ben, who was sitting in the kitchen reading the morning paper. He looked up, surprised to see David, but said nothing.
During breakfast, David tried his luck at finding out if they knew something of the history of the house. He said he was doing a project and wanted to know about the house and its previous owners.
“That’s an unusual project you’ve chosen,” said Mary, “but I understand why you’re chose that subject. I, too, loved the house when I saw it all those years ago.” She went on to explain how the former occupants had sold the house to them eleven years ago. It had been somewhat run down, but that had made the price affordable. With some paint and their own furniture, they had customized it to their own wants. Most of the information she was imparting was the work they had done on the house since they had bought it. David wanted to know about what happened before that.
“Where are the previous owners of the house now?” asked David, changing the subject.
“Eh? What would you want to know that for, boy?” She have him her suspicious look that he knew all too well. “I don’t rightly remember their names, but she was retiring and he was sick, and the house was just too big for them to look after.”
“Stacy and Mick Taiyler,” said Ben.
“I don’t rightly remember,” she repeated, stubbornly, “but I guess your uncle has a clearer memory for details than I.” From the look on her face, he decided he had better drop the subject, for the moment in any case.
David found out from Mary where the local library was. It was a 10 minute walk to the tram stop and a 10 minute ride to the neighbourhood’s civic centre. The council buildings were on one side of the land and on the other side, a reasonably sized library. It looked bright and inviting, and not terribly busy.
As he started his search, he realized that he didn’t have any real idea of what subject he should be looking for. The supernatural section was the obvious choice and while there was wide selection of books, most of them novels, he soon found that none of them seemed relevant. He leafed through several books on haunted houses, but found they were mainly case studies and they didn’t offer any real answers.
As he put back his fourth book, he noticed that a young man, around nineteen years of age, was also browsing the same section. He was rather tall and lanky, wore a chequered shirt and a pair of overalls. His hair was brown, long and straggly. He reminded David of a builders labourer. He looked at his face and saw it was warm and friendly. David instantly liked it. It made him feel comfortable. The man was smiling and quietly talking to himself. After a moment, as if he sensed David looking at him, he turned towards him and said, “Not much of a library, is it?” He voice almost had a note of apology in it.
David nodded, though he had not really spent enough time to form an opinion on the matter. The young man continued. “And hardly a feast of books in this section if you’re after answers to the unexplained.”
“I’m not really sure what I’m after,” David said, somewhat taken aback. Did he look like he was searching for answers?
“Seek and ye shall find,” he said, with a merry laugh. “They just never told you what you should seek.”
“True,” he agreed.
“You know, there aren’t really that many useful books around. Not yet, anyway. Oh, there’s the odd few. They give you some insight, but let’s face it, most of the information isn’t all that useful to you, but more are coming, but that’s not much use to us now.”
“You seem to know a lot about it. I’m not sure, though, how you could possibly know what I’m after.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said, laughing. “I’m Jess, by the way,” he said, introducing himself.
“I’m David.”
“Local to the area?”
“For the moment.”
Jess smiled. “Well, David, pleased to meet you. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again.” He grinned and waved bye to him and continued his browsing.
David was at a loss as to what to do next. Looking for books wasn’t going too well and he doubted he would find any useful information on the house, but he had to try.
He asked the librarian for some assistance, but after a brief search came up empty-handed. She suggested that maybe he might try his luck at the council on the other side.
Jess happened to be standing right behind him. “I couldn’t help overhearing your question,” he said. “I doubt you can just walk right in and ask for that type of information without good reason. “Then again, what do I know about bureaucracy.” He appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Mind you, I can probably open a door for you, though.”
“A door?”
“A door of opportunity. I know someone who worked there who might let you get the information you’re after if I put in a good word for you.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Certainly.”
“Why?” His tone sounded suspicious, though he did not intend it to come out that way, still David couldn’t understand why a complete stranger would bother to help him.
“Why not?” he countered. “Now the intellectuals are out of the way, shall we go and give that said door an almighty boot open?”
He followed Jess to the council offices. As they entered, he left David and walked up to a middle aged woman who was sitting at a counter. He watched Jess chat to her for a couple of minutes until Jess beckoned at him. He walked over.
“I’ve done my smooth talk and sold my soul to this beautiful lady,” he said, winking at her. “This is Becky. She’ll do what she can to help you. It’s over to you now, buddy. I’ve got other ladies to romance, so catch you later and good luck.” He left David alone with the clerk. Feeling his face flush, he began to hesitantly explain what he wanted. Unfortunately, he soon discovered that there was a cost involved to getting information on the house, and it was more than he could afford, even with Jess having put in a good word for him. Though David had saved some money, it wasn’t a lot, and the cost would completely wipe out his bank balance. He cursed that he hadn’t saved as hard as he might have.
Becky suggested that maybe he didn’t need everything. Did he really want the blueprints for example?
“I guess I want to know how old the house is, who built it, lived in it, you know?”
Becky looked thoughtful. Finally she said that as a favour to Jess, she could organize it for a small search fee. She also seemed to respond well to David’s courteous and friendly manner. She asked him to ring in a day or so. David ended up paying fifteen dollar; a small fee for the council, but still, a fair amount out of his own savings. He prayed he would find the information useful.
All in all, he had a total of one hundred and seventeen dollars left. He was going to have to be very thrifty. He sighed. The morning was almost over and he felt he hadn’t gotten very far.
He left the offices and pondered what he should try next. He was almost hoping he’d see Jess again, but he was nowhere in sight. No doubt he had gone off to whatever he had to do.
In his mind, he kept on thinking of ideas that might help him prove that the garden existed. Then an idea come that made him shake his head at how obvious it was. He needed to take a photo. That certainly would prove it, or at least, prove something. The only snag was that he didn’t have a camera. He was sure that he could get a disposable one for only a few dollars. Surely that would do.
He also remembered that his torch had vanished. Maybe that was a good enough excuse to buy a better one. They didn’t cost that much and the thought of a better lighted passageway appealed to him after the feelings he had experienced the previous night. It would also be useful for examining the closet in more detail.
He caught a tram directly into the city, and wandered into several shops looking for the best deal. Things were never as cheap as he hoped they were, but he ended up spending twenty five dollars for a decent torch and disposable camera. Still, the cost was quickly forgotten as he felt excited about the prospects of using his new tools.
He stopped to get some lunch and felt he had done enough, or in any case, he had run out of ideas. It was time to head back home. However, as he was headed down to the tram stop, he noticed a mystical book shop. It was the books in the window caught his attention. They appeared to be themed around Tibet for some reason that escaped him, but they indicated what may lay inside. Clearly, a speciality shop on the subject he was researching would be just what he needed. He had always steered clear of such places in the past, believing them to be headquarters for cults and strange, oddly dressed people.
Feeling conspicuous, he opened a glass door and went inside. There was a sign saying the bookshop was on the second floor. The lift looked old and slow, so he decided to climb the two flights of stairs. When he reached the top, he felt more out of breath than he felt he should have been. He entered into the book store itself and noticed that he felt prickly and uncomfortable, as though the very atmosphere was charged with unpleasant electricity. The shop itself was filled with many book cases. There was a large counter at the front of the shop. As he had never been inside such a place before and wasn’t sure what he would expect. Strangely enough, the people serving at the counter seemed normal enough. They didn’t looked like members of a weird religious sect. None had shaved heads and there was no evidence of any goings on such as them speaking in tongues. Maybe what he had heard was wrong after all and come to think of it the source had been another student.
There were at least two dozen bookshelves and he initially felt overwhelmed. If there was information here, he was going to have a difficult time finding it. He looked carefully at the books. There was more literature on dozens of subjects than he had ever dreamed of, and all at seemingly astronomical prices. The books seemed to be around ten dollars more than they would cost at a normal book shop. Even if he knew where to look, he most certainly wouldn’t be able to afford it.
The problem was he had no idea where to start. He was wanting to find something that would shed light on proving the existence of a non existent garden.
He looked towards the front counter and saw there was only one lady behind it and she was talking on the phone. If he asked her for information, what would the reaction be like? He figured that he was nothing to lose, after all, this was the place where they were supposed to know about all these things.
He shyly approached her, trying to look as discreet as possible. He didn’t succeed terribly well because she immediately put down the phone and looked expectantly at him.
“Hi,” he muttered, feeling his face flush.
“What can I do for you, luv?”
“This is going to sound really strange, but do you know anything about proving things that don’t exist are real?” The question sounded ridiculous, and he realised that he could have phrased it better.
She looked at him strangely for a moment, her face was blank and then she said: “You mean like ghosts?”
“Well, like ghosts, but more like, another world....” he trailed off.
She seemed to think for a minute and finally answered. “I’m not quite sure what you’re asking, really. However, I can tell you that people have been trying to prove the existence of ghosts for a long time and they’ve never been able to conclusively do it.”
“Would there be any books about such subjects?”
“What exactly are you after?”
“Well, supposing you found another place that only exists at certain times, like a garden, perhaps, and it only exists during the night…” he trailed off. The look she was giving him wasn’t encouraging.
“Magic gardens,” she muttered. “I’m sure there are some stories about such things, but I wouldn’t know them.”
“Oh,” he said, unsure of what else to say. “Well, thanks anyway.” He walked out feeling dispirited. This certainly wasn’t going as smoothly as he had hoped. He needed someone to talk to who knew about such matters. He had heard of psychics. People who knew it all. Could see all and whose knowledge and wisdom was infallible or so he believed. Maybe such a person could help him. Unfortunately, he didn’t know anybody who was one, nor would he be able to afford the services of a professional. Of course, he had also heard that some did it for free. He could always ask the people in the bookshop.
He stood outside the building, shivering with cold as he wrestled with the question. He felt stupid about going back in. In the end, the need for warmth and answers decided him. He climbed back up the stairs and once more went to the front counter. The lady he had spoken to before was dealing with another customer, much to his relief. An older woman came up and asked if she could help him.
“Do you know any psychic people who offer their services?” he said, rather stiffly. He felt so foolish, but the lady just smiled and said in a friendly voice that he might want to take a look at the community notice board just outside the first floor library.
“Are you after a reading?” she asked.
“No, at least I don’t think so.” He had no idea what a reading was. “I’m after someone who can help me with knowledge.”
She nodded. “Well, seek and ye shall find,” she said. She wished him good luck and turned to serve another waiting customer.
David took her advice and went down to the board. Many pieces of paper and cards were pinned to a large square board. Many were for courses in meditation, meetings of groups and a few fortune tellers. Nothing caught his attention or seemed to be right to him.
The door next to the board was open, and he peeked inside. If this was a library, maybe he could join and borrow some books. He entered and found the front counter was immediately inside the door. A middle aged man looked up expectantly at him.
“Hi. How do I join the library?” he asked.
The man explained in a rather haughty voice that he could join if two current members sponsored him.
“But I don’t know anyone here,” he protested. “I just need to find out information.”
“Well, then, you might want to join a group here and get to know them,” he said, with a slight air of superiority in this voice.
David mumbled his thanks and quickly left. He was almost in a state of shock. This surely couldn’t be how things in the spiritual circles were. He had imagined groups of them fall jumping over themselves to try and help those who were after knowledge.
He once more left the building and considered his options. Clearly he didn’t have any left. Maybe he should just try and take photos first and see what turned out.
The evening was uneventful and it really dragged for David. He wistfully wished he had bought a novel to read. Something to occupy his mind. He felt that even if he had, he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on the pages regardless. He was anxiously anticipating his midnight trip and excited about going into the garden again. His stomach tied up in knots whenever he thought about Holly and what he should do if he saw her again.
He spent most of the late afternoon in his bedroom looking at the painting. He hardly could bring himself to take his eyes off her. He didn’t even stop to wonder who the other girl was. This was typical of him. He would often ignore things that seemed of no relevance to him.
Around five o clock, it grew dark outside, and dinner was served. As usual, not terribly tasty, but he was much too preoccupied to notice. Mary and Ben noticed his mood, but it was put down to him being tired from being out so soon after his flu. So they asked no questions when he excused himself to go to bed very early, though Mary did make a comment about him overdoing it.
He set the alarm for midnight, and decided it would be a wise idea to get some sleep while he had the chance. As he really was tired, he fell asleep very quickly, and no time seemed to have passed when the clock awoke him. Bleary eyed and heavy headed, he leaned over to one side and quickly shut it off, hoping that no one else had heard anything. The thought sent chills up his spine. He had visions of Mary grilling him about why he set his clock for midnight. He listened carefully and after a few minutes, he relaxed. He resolved to put the clock under his pillow in future.
It was another cold night. He moved fast and changed into warm clothes. He noticed it was raining once more and it looked even darker than normal, even the painting didn’t seem to catch much light. He took his new torch and camera, and headed down to the locked door. He had taken it for granted that it would be unlocked at this time. He didn’t bother to turn on his torch, as he knew the hallway well enough by now, and was quickly able to locate the handle. His heart froze as he put his hand on it. The surface felt old and rough. When it refused to budge, he turned on the torch on. To his dismay, it showed the old handle.
