The Secret of the Double Rainbow
9.
David looked at his watch. Once more it had appeared to have stopped. Maybe time had no meaning in this crazy place. He struggled to get his mind around the concept. How could time stop in one place while it must be going on in another? It didn’t make any sense.
He needed more information and certainly proof. If only he had taken a picture of Willow. That would have proven something, after all, she was in the painting and surely someone would believe him then.
He looked won at his camera, still in his hand and decided he’d be ready next time someone turned up.
He looked once more at the garden. The grass was still a brownish tinge. He wondered if it had always been like that and he had just been too unobservant to notice it. Surely he would have noticed that. Still, if the garden was really dying, then he could hardly be blamed for that, though technically, how could the garden be dying if it was just a ghost garden?
In any case, what did his being here have to do with its state? All he had done to it so far was not keep off the grass, an impossible task considering the circumstances.
‘Time to think more carefully, David,’ he thought. So far he had reacted without much thought for any consequences and he knew he was far too unaware of what was really going on.
He thought carefully about what he wanted to do next. Should he go back or should he try and search for Willow or Holly.
The willow tree seemed to draw his attention. An odd feeling, almost like a bitterness, appeared to be coming from it. He moved closer so he was near enough to hug it if had had chosen. The fleeting thought of hugging it went through his mind and he immediately felt foolish. He was no hippy.
He noticed that very close to the tree was a bed of china blue flowers with a white centre. They were all withered, looking as though they were badly in need of water. Someone was clearly not looking after things here. He shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it. He’d seen flowers die plenty of time before. The willow tree drew him back yet again. It also looked in pretty bad shape. The long hanging branches seemed lacking in vitality and were looking distinctly near death.
He finally gave into the temptation to touch it. Without warning he was overwhelmed with feelings of bitterness and resentment. He felt that Willow, Holly, the cat, The garden had nothing to do with him. It wasn’t his fault he had been led here. If others had a complaint, then it was their problem. It was just so unfair. He had certainly never asked for this. Didn’t he have enough problems with losing his father and living with an Aunt who would give Hitler a run for his money. Then the sudden sensation of a heart breaking made him remove his hand. He still felt wretched, though something was clear in his mind: some of what he had felt were not his own emotions. It was almost as though he had received a psychic impression from the tree, but he didn’t see how that was possible.
“Does nothing in the crazy place make any sense,” he shouted in sheer frustration. “I’ve really had enough!”
No one answered. He half expected to see one of the girl appear, or, at least, Tiger Fawn, who seemed to have made an appearance every other night except this one.
Tears came unbidden to his eyes making them sting. He was crying and he couldn’t understand why. It was though the whole emotion of the willow tree had been channelled into him. The expression ‘weeping willow’ was not lost on him.
“I hate this place,” he sobbed. “I hate it, hate it, hate it.” He lurched back out from amongst the willow and felt his pain grow less, though he still felt miserable. He had had enough for one day. It was time to go back, though the way he was feeling, he had very little intentions of returning. The novelty had just about worn off. He couldn’t understand why he had been so desperate to come here. It wasn’t as though it was a nice place to visit. Even Holly, who had liked, seemed a somewhat simple minded.
He walked quickly. He just wanted to leave as fast as he could. He recognized the landmarks by now and had no difficulty finding the portal home. Soon he saw his torch, but it wasn’t alone. Someone or something small was right beside it and blocking the portal entrance. He slowed down. This might mean more trouble. He stopped about 10 feet away from what looked like a little wrinkled old man.
Though he looked harmless enough, he wondered if it would be safe to come closer. He suspected that he might be waiting a long time for the person to leave. Whatever else he thought of the place, he was convinced that it wasn’t real in a physical sense and therefore it couldn’t hurt him. With that thought in mind, he approached with a bravado he did not feel.
The small man looked almost like a gnome. He had a wrinkled face, big hazel brown eyes, long white hair and he was wearing a strange brown costume that seemed to have golden buttons or knobs sewn all over his jacket and trousers. He didn’t look terribly harmful. He also didn’t look terribly happy, He was clearly looking at David as he approached.
“Hello?” said David, cautiously, as he got within throwing distance. He waited for a response. He wasn’t disappointed. The odd man spoke in a voice that reminded David, for some undefinable reason, of crackling leather.
“My boy, what are you doing to us? To yourself?”
This was not an greeting he had expected. His mouth gaped open for a moment and then he finally stammered. “D. d. doing? Wha What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.” He suddenly felt terribly guilty, like he was a trespasser caught stealing apples from an orchard.
“You’re not doing what you might and you’re doing what you shouldn’t.”
“And what am I meant to be doing, then?”
“What you have been called upon to do.”
“Well, if everyone stopped talking in riddles, Perhaps I might have a mind to do so, though no one has asked me to do anything.”
“Of course they have. You were called. You could not be anyone else.”
“And who am I supposed to be, then?”
“David, can’t you see who you are? Don’t you feel your true nature? Does your enemy cloak all and torment you?”
“And those cryptic questions are really getting on my nerves.” Suddenly, he realised something. “How did you know my name?”
“I know a good many things, including one of your real names,” he replied, evasively. “But clearly you are not ready to listen.”
“My real name? We just agreed that you knew my real name.”
“No, not David, the name I called upon to summon you.”
This little man had to be deluded. David knew he hadn’t been summoned. At least, he couldn’t see how.
“And what name was that?” he said, sceptically.
The old man looked gravely at him. “I…” He paused as though hearing something. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you. You’re not ready and she would not be happy if you knew.”
“Who’s she, do you mean Willow? And why wouldn’t she want me to know?”
“No, not her.” His face wrinkled up.
“Who then?”
He sighed. “You would not believe me.”
“Try me,” said David.
The little man just shook his head. “If I had known all this, I would not have called upon you. All I can offer is my apologies. You are not what we expected.”
“Fine, then,” he snapped. “Just move aside and I’ll get the hell out of here. It’s not as though I like it here, anyway”
The little being stepped aside. “You can go. I am not one who would stop you.” He drew a heavy sigh. “However, I must ask you, before you leave, if you hate it here so, why do you keep on coming back?”
David did a double take. All he could do was think about this place when he wasn’t there and he eagerly awaited each night so he could return, still, he wasn’t about to admit that right then. “It’s because I’m bothered by that cat until I come here,” he said, unreasonably.
“No, David. You could not claim such a thing for tonight.”
He flushed. “And what do you know about it all?” There was suspicion in his voice. This man clearly had to be responsible and now that he thought about it, he had just admitted it by saying that he had called him.
“I called and you came. Perhaps that was a mistake. I fear you might not be who I hoped you are and are here instead of her. There is much that is hidden from me. Perhaps you are who you are and you may simply not remember it.”
“Do tell,” he said, half sarcastically, but the gone like being had gotten his interest.
“I cannot tell you. I have been forbidden and you would not believe. You can ask the same question again and you will have the same answer, and yet..” he trialled off.
“And yet?”
“Even you might still help if you allowed yourself to become in tune.”
“In tune with?” Suddenly, he found himself interested. Maybe there was something to be gained here after all.
“To be in rapport with nature.”
David had expected something amazingly mystical. Perhaps something that would lead him to greatness and power, but this answer left him cold. “Nature? Sounds boring and useless.”
“That is the tragedy. But not just our tragedy, it’s yours, too. Ours remain because of yours. Pass through the portal, David. I bid you a farewell. I can not see you returning.”
“It’s not as though I have a choice in the matter,” he muttered, but the man heard him.
“You now know what is here. The choice now belongs to you. You will not be allowed to return if you are hostile to us. Even she would understand that.”
David felt fury rise within him. They were treating him like he was the one who had asked for all this, but they had clearly admitted to calling him. “I’d hardly say that I’m the one who’s hostile and for the last time, who is she?”
The man ignored the second question and answered only the first. “Only because you misunderstand.”
“It’s pretty clear to me. Still, go ahead and enlighten me. You sure seem chatty enough. All I’m asking for is just a straight answer for once.”
“And your question might be?”
“Who is ‘she’?”
“Again the answer is the same. I cannot tell you.”
“Tell me why you can’t. What is so terrible that I can’t know who this lady is that you speak of.”
“Please ask another question or depart.”
“Okay, then. Why is this garden full of spirits?”
“That is the nature of this garden. The unseen tending to the seen.”
“What are you talking about?”
The little man sighed. “So little knowledge. You cannot be who we called.”
“Who are you, anyway?”
“To some I’m know as Salvia. Call me that if you will. We shall not see you again unless you are able to come to some self realization and know who you are. Good bye David.” He got up and walked away. The conversation was obviously at an end. He waited for along moment and then shrugged his shoulders and entered the portal.
He got back easily enough and he quickly slipped into bed. It appeared that only forty minutes had passed by.
He couldn’t sleep, though. He was still wide awake. Not only had he failed to see Holly again, but he had met a hostile ghost, met a cryptic spirit and had even less idea about what they were talking about. He ran through stories he’d read and movies he’d seen about ghosts. They always seemed to involve the breaking of some curse or completion of a quest in order to set the spirits to rest. Maybe they all used to live in the house and he had to find their bones and bury them or something. This house was definitely haunted and he appeared to be the guest of honour. He wasn’t happy about it and resolved that he would not be used by anyone and treated in the way he had been tonight. Well, he’d shown them a thing or two. Maybe they’d think twice before messing with him again. So why did he have the feeling he was going to regret it?
