The Secret of the Double Rainbow
8.
He felt his heart sink to the floor. What had gone wrong? Fears that he had done the wrong thing with Holly sprang to his mind or worse, maybe he was being punished by trying to discover what was going on, and now he would never get back in. He tried a few more times, but the handle obstinately refused to move.
As the initial shock subsided, a thought slowly formed in his mind. He reasoned that maybe he was too early. Just maybe. Hadn’t the door opened after half past twelve in the past nights? Hardly daring to hope, he moved back to his room, and looked at the clock. Yes, there was still a little time before he should check again. He had obviously been to anxious. At least he hoped this was the case.
His heart pounded fiercely as the moments ticked by. They seemed to last forever. In the meantime, the rain had stopped and a full moon was revealed by the uncovering clouds. The room just about lit up, clearly highlighting the painting which had been transformed into a shimmering sea of light. The two girls looked like silver ghosts. The thought sent a shudder through his body.
This had to be a sign that the time was right. He shook badly as he picked up his equipment, and made his way back down the passage. To his amazement, he found that the door was open, just how he had left it the night before and his old torch was still where he had placed it.
This was another mystery to work out, but one he felt would be worth exploring when he had more time.
“I’ve done it! I was right.” he thought. “I’m back in.” He turned on his torch, and a powerful beam of light lit up the whole wall. It was a good, powerful torch and he decided was worth every cent. He took a very careful look around the room and saw something glinting on the floor. It was the dove. It must have fallen out of his dressing gown pockets when he ran into the wall.
This time, he carefully put it into the change pocket of his jeans. He half played with the idea of going back to his room and putting it safely away, but he feared that he might not be able to return, and worse, find that he might not be able to take it back, thus wasting valuable time.
He turned his torch onto the painting and studied it. It was very similar to the one in the bedroom alright. A slightly different pose, but Holly and the other lady where still in it. On one of the hands of the other girl, he noticed a bracelet. Something he had not noticed on the other painting. He would have to look for it next time.
The cat was absent from this picture. But in the background there was a vividly painted rainbow. He moved his beam to the top and saw a title: Find a double rainbow. This jolted David’s memory. But what did it mean?
At the bottom of the painting, there was a poem that read:
Moon weaxen old,
light shining true,
alight your beam on us,
I am coming through.
This puzzled him. Was it important? He hoped not because he didn’t understand it. This certainly was one strange portrait. He placed his torch in a position so that the light shone upon it and he took a photo. He felt abruptly smug.
He felt enough time had been spent examining the room. He had no way of knowing if there was a time limit on this side of the portal. If things returned back to normal, would he suddenly be trapped in the room? Thought was enough to scare him silly. He strongly suspected that he might not even be heard by anyone on the other side if that happened. It was almost as of this version of the door vanished and the proper one took its place. Though he did not understand how that could happen, it did make sense to him.
The painting was shimmering, but it appeared to him that it wasn’t as brightly as before, though it certainly did look very ghostly. The only explanation he could come up with was that it was a ghost of a painting. Maybe it once had existed, a twin to the other one, and perhaps had been somehow destroyed and now it haunted the house. He suddenly had visions of a painting popping up expectantly, trying to scare people, and the thought sent him into a fit of giggles. Somehow he couldn’t see it as threatening.
This time he decided to take his time as he was going through. He wanted to see if there when things changed. He slowly moved through, and noticed that his body was tingling and was feeling lighter. It was an odd sensation. Certainly one he’s not recalled experiencing before in his day to day life. His vision was obscured. He now could not see the closet nor the garden. All he had the impression of was silver flecks swirling and spinning all around him. He stopped and quickly realized that was a mistake as he started to feel very dizzy and confused. He threw himself forwards and entered into the garden.
It was daytime as usual and he wondered if night ever fell here. He turned off his torch and placed it on the ground. It was a deep red colour and would make a decent marker. Of course there was that distinct shimmer where the portal was, but he was too paranoid to believe that he might not lose it.
He looked about, hoping he would see Holly, but the garden looked deserted. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved.
He took his camera and took a few photos. He noticed that as he looked through the viewfinder, the world took on a surrealistic look. David had never taken drugs, but he suspected that this is what it might be like if he had. He turned around and took a picture of where the painting should be. Though the camera, the shimmer was much more intense. He felt oddly comfortable knowing that he could enhance it. It might come in useful if he lost sight of it. With only twenty four pictures in the camera, he didn’t want to use them all in case something interesting appeared. He plotted a course, taking note of any landmarks he could see and continued on collecting evidence. He was so intent on his task that he had even forgotten about Holly.
He began to feel more confident and adventurous and moved deeper into the garden. It didn’t seem to have any limits to its size. He knew he must be careful otherwise he might really lose his way back.
Other objects became clearer as he moved closer. David kept on going over the main landmarks in his mind. The big tree to his right was near the purple clump of flowers that formed a vague arrow that pointed him to a clump of bushes. He took his time and moved methodically.
After a little while, something large started to emerge ahead of him. To his amazement, what looked like a house appeared. There was a cluster of trees in the way that obscured the view, but he was certain of what he saw. Maybe he would finally get some answers if he headed that direction. Unexpectedly, he heard a voice behind him. He felt for a moment that his heart had tried to leap through his throat. He instantly knew it wasn’t Holly as the tone was sharper and harsher. Still it was certainly a woman.
“I’ve been watching you,” she said. He spun around and found himself looking at someone who he felt he should know. Though he knew he hasn’t met this lady before, she looked so familiar. He was getting that a lot, but then, he had seen Holly in the painting. That jogged his memory. She was the girl next to Holly. It came as a shock. She too, looked young. Another ghost, he thought, wildly, and one that didn’t look very friendly. She also seemed as solid as Holly.
Her tone of voice and the way she looked at him made him feel very guilty. She instantly had made him feel as though he was doing something forbidden.
“ You..., you have?” was all he managed to say.
“Aye, indeed,” she said, speaking rapidly. “Where do you hail from? I’ve seen you popping in and out thrice now.”
“You have?” he repeated. Once David found a reply, he hung onto for grim life.
“Aye, an’ you seem a strange one. You slinking around, like a thief in the night.” David’s shocked mind vaguely thought he should mention that there didn’t appear to be any night here, but he said nothing. She continued: “Acting as though you don’t belong. Taking pictures an’ all. Pictures! Who are you and where have you come from?” she asked again.
“I’m David and I’m... from Sunbury,” he said, lamely, telling her of the suburb he grew up in. He didn’t know what else to say.
“Sun-berry” she repeated, phonetically.
“Yeah, Sunbury.”
“And this ‘sun berry’, what manner of place is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean?” he said, feeling a little annoyed. Her tone was accusing and he felt he was on trial and he didn’t know why. What was more, it wasn’t like he had asked to come here. It had been the cat that wouldn’t leave him alone. “Ask Tiger Fawn, he’s the one who brought me here.”
He immediately saw mentioning the cats name was a mistake. The girl’s face became as dark as thunder, and a grew aura seemed to palpate around her body. It quite unnerved him.
“Tiger Fawn!” she said venomously. “I might have known. That accused spirit won’t mind his own business. Then you are friendly with Holly.” It was a statement, not a question. David once again noted the word ‘spirit’ once again confirming they must be ghosts. Spirits or not, though, this lady was real enough right now and was staring so accusingly at him, he quickly said: “No, I only met her once by chance. Who are you?”
The girl ignored the question and kept on glaring at him. David found his gaze drawn to her eyes and found them entrancing. She had the iciest blue pupils he had ever seen in his life. Very cold and penetrating, even more so than his aunts’. There was not the slightest hint of warmth in them.
“You’re not one for talking,” she observed. “Just what are you up to? Who was it that sent you?”
“Up to? Why should I be up to anything?” he said. He did not like her tone and he did not like her. His awkwardness disappeared. He realized that she must have been watching him all this time. “You call me a spy and yet you’re the one who’s been spying on me!”
“Is one, who observes a stranger in her home, called a spy, now?” she asked, acidy. “Your manner is an outrage.”
“So is yours,” he snapped back. “So, what are you going to do about it?” A hostile feeling was subtly growing from within him. His mind literally felt like it was beginning to throb and a sense of anger was starting to take him over.
Her eyes became even icier and she coldly replied: “You say that as though you do not know what I’m capable off. Did they not warn you? Yours is a true folly.”
He looked at her carefully. She was a slip of a girl and might have been pretty if she hasn’t looked so hostile. He didn’t know much about ghosts, but he had never actually heard of any hurting someone in real life, apart from ghosts stories told during his childhood that he never believed, even then.
“You don’t look that threatening to me,” he said, with a touch of laughter in his voice. He was mocking her and he ignored any feelings that it was not a wise move. “And guess what? I don’t care. I don’t know what’s going on and I’m starting not to care either.” His words were becoming more heated as he went on. “I’ve gone through Hell the last few days. This entire thing has been nothing but infuriating and frustrating.”
Of course, this wasn’t strictly true, though close enough to the truth to suit his own purposes. While he hadn’t gone through Hell, he felt his life had been turned upside-down. All he could think about was this place and Holly and he couldn’t even talk to anyone about it or even prove it. All the frustrations he had felt were now coming out of him, but the girl didn’t seem at all moved by his outburst. She just continued looking at him directly in his eyes. He went on, less heated and more lamely. “So who are you, since I obviously don’t know who you are,” he finished
“Willow,” she snapped, as though he should have already known this.
“I can’t say I’ve heard of you.”
“I’ve not heard of you either, though your arrogance and ignorance towards me is astounding.”
“Not nearly as astounding as your ego, I bet!” he shot back. “You act as though I should know you but I don’t and what’s more I wouldn’t want to!”
She turned away for a moment as if taken aback. There was a long pause and then she said: “Take care, stranger. I can easily turn you into a wretched soul. Beware.”
“How? By talking me to death?” he said, blithely.
Her eyes flared up. She stretched out her hand, as if to touch him, but David automatically fliched and jumped back. Ghost or not, he didn’t know enough about what they could do, especially if he was in their world. She took another good look at him, but this time it was as she looked into his soul. He suddenly felt unnerved.
“Soul corruption,” she muttered. “Black and growing.” She looked him directly in the eyes. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly, as if to herself. “You don’t have the right. You could only hurt us.”
“As I don’t know where ‘here’ is, I don’t see how I could know that.”
“You must know or how could you have gotten here,” she said, flaring up again. “And you don’t care for nature,” she continued again to herself. “You really shouldn’t be here.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” he said, startled by the odd comments. Soul corruption? Not caring about nature? “Since when do you have to care nature to be in a garden?”
“A garden is nature,” she stated. “All here is nature. You don’t care about it. You should not be here.”
“I do care,” he finally said, defending himself.
“Then tell me about it.”
“I... it just is. That’s a stupid thing to ask.”
“Only because you do not see. Only because you will not see. When was the last time you appreciated a simple violet?”
“A violet?” he exclaimed. He felt embarrassed. Real men didn’t talk about flowers. “Flowers are girl’s stuff. ”
“Corrupted,” she said again, still talking softly to herself. “Ah me, the garden is truly dying. Is there now hope?”
David looked around him. It seemed alive to him, despite the fact that it looked no healthier than the time before, but then, as Willow had pointed out, what did he really know? Still, he had to respond. “It looks fine to me.”
“Then you are blind! And that you are here is a sure sign of sickness. Curse it all.”
David finally lost his temper. “You saying I’m a sickness? I’m not sick! If anyone is, it’s you. Surly little thing, going around as though you owned the whole bleeding world. I don’t care who you are. I’m staying right here. What do you say to that?”
“Then stay and enjoy the beauty,” she said, sarcastically, “Perhaps you belong here after all because it reflects you.”
“I will, then!” He looked about him and suddenly noticed that things were not as they were. The grass was actually a brownish colour and the flowers, those of which he could see, were wilted. He then remembered Holly’s flower basket. That was how much impression it had left upon him. “This is your ‘beauty’. Your soul is a reflection of it. Yes, enjoy what you have sowed.”
He ignored her. That was patently ridiculous. “Well, guess what? I don’t care what you think,” he shot back. “You think I don’t know what’s going on?” Actually, he didn’t have the foggiest idea, but he wasn’t about to let her know. “This place is a ghost garden and you are ghost in it. A unpleasant ghost who probably died an early death because you were so nasty to everyone. And guess what? You don’t exist anymore. You’re dead!”
Willow stared incredulously at him. For a moment she was lost for words. Then she loudly laughed. A truly incredulous, mirthless laugh. “Don’t exist? You sad, begotten fool, it is you who are the reflection.”
Then as though she had had enough, she turned on her heels and stalked off. “Yeah, go home to spooksville!” he yelled after her. He watched her go. He wondered if he should try and stop her, but he didn’t know why he should, so he just watched as she quickly vanished amongst a willow tree. “That’s appropriate,” he thought, vaguely. Her final words echoed in his mind. It is you who are the reflection. What did it mean?
