Beneath the Elder Tree (5 page)

   At one point she visible shrank and her skin was dyed dark grey. She leaned to one side and nestled her head against my shoulder. I couldn’t be cold towards her, despite her warnings. I cast my arm around her and held her tight, knowing that deep down she was frightened of the transformation she was undergoing.

   ‘How much longer will it take?’ I asked.

   ‘A cycle of the worlds at most.’

   ‘I want to stay with you tomorrow. I don’t think you should die alone.’

   She placed her chilled hand on mine then looked up at me and tried to smile.

   ‘Thank you, Lucy. Some times you’re actually not so bad.’

- CHAPTER SIX -

The Chosen

It was a satellite town that was very different to the one I grew up in. I’d never been to Millbrook before, but was familiar with its name and reputation. It was often mentioned on the news for its level of poverty and anti-social behaviour. More crime took place there than in any other town in the state. It was a grim and dangerous area and I’d have been terrified to set foot in it if I was still alive.

   Now there was no fear of such things. All I felt was anger because so many people could be forsaken to a life of poverty and fear. There was, of course, some locals who thrived in Millbrook because they were caught up in criminality. Most of the residents though, were simply victims of chance. They were born poor and had been discarded by the rest of society. They were now prey to the many predators of Millbrook.

   Every corner of the suburb was swarming with youngsters who had nothing better to do with their time than to cause mayhem. I read their thoughts as we passed them. Some felt bitter towards the world. Some were frustrated by the lack of opportunity. Some were just afraid to go home. Others had only an empty home to return to and I felt very sad for them. I had been so blind in life. My eyes had been blinkered by the comfortable living my father’s job had provided my mother and I. How very lucky I had been.

   The houses were small and cramped together. Many were in disrepair and looked ready to crumble. I certainly wasn’t happy with the prospect of spending months, years or even decades in such a depressing environment. Somewhere in this tempest of emotion was my chosen. This was their domain - or their prison. I was starting to realise that my time as a guide would not be an easy one.

   ‘Your chosen is out here in the middle of all this,’ Emily said glumly as she surveyed the grey surroundings. ‘Can you sense anything yet?’

   ‘I’m picking up a lot of anger from these people. It’s difficult to focus on any one person. It’s like there’s almost too much to sense.’

   ‘It doesn’t matter. The sun will go down soon and we should see the sign again. Are you excited?’

   ‘I don’t know what I’m feeling. My emotions have been all over the place since I died - I’ll never get used to saying that.’

   ‘You will. It just hasn’t sunk in yet.’

   ‘Having to spend my time in this dreary place will make it harder to sink in.’

   ‘Would you rather hide from the reality of what transpires in the living world?’

   ‘I guess not.’ I came to an abrupt stop on the pavement. There was an icy sensation crawling all over me and I was finding it very difficult to focus. ‘I feel cold, Emily. Really cold!’

   ‘That’s a good sign. It means we are close to your chosen.’

   ‘I can feel…’ I shut my eyes and concentrated on the tingling sensation within. It wasn’t just cold that I was experiencing. I was also sensing the aura of a living person. I turned to Emily and smiled. ‘It’s a she. My chosen is a girl.’

   ‘She must be very close if you can determine her gender.’

   ‘I’m sensing deep unhappiness.’

   Emily turned and examined the houses around us and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Can you blame her?’

   ‘No, I can’t.’ I was suddenly determined that my chosen wouldn’t continue to feel this sorrow. She would not be just another person adrift in the sea of poverty. ‘I’m going to make sure her life changes for the better. This girl is destined for bigger and better things than this.’

   ‘That’s the spirit … literally.’

   The sun held the sky in a stubborn embrace that evening. Night seemed to take an eternity to descend over Millbrook. When it finally did, the streets emptied of children, only to be replaced by teenage misfits who roamed from one corner to the next in search of mischief. The living gradually became incandescent with aura. The houses pulsed with colour. It was almost enough to make Millbrook attractive to gaze upon. Almost.

   Emily emitted no visible aura. The colour had abandoned her eyes. Her skin was black as coal. Her movements were painfully slow. Her time in this world was surely drawing to an end. She barely even reacted when the spectacular silver vortex spun out above the estate. I could see now that it was emanating from a flat complex a short distance from the centre of the Millbrook.

   I helped Emily to her feet and we slowly made our way to the epicentre of the vortex. The squat tower was even gloomier than the rest of the town; its ground floor was tattooed with many layers of graffiti, and many of the windows of the upper floors were either broken or boarded. We paused outside the main entrance and I gazed up to see the sparkling beacon was spilling into the night from an open window on the top floor.

   ‘Let’s not dally,’ Emily said quietly. ‘I don’t want others to be attracted by this signal.’

   ‘Others?’

   ‘Unfriendly spirits. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if there were some inhabiting this dreadful place. Come on, let’s get inside.’

   We climbed the steps to the main doors, then sank through to the foyer. The place was in utter disarray: stained and cracked walls, filthy floor that was strewn with litter, broken lights that flickered on and off. There was even a drunk urinating into a bin on the other side of the room. At first I thought the place was derelict, and that my chosen must have been a squatter, but the sounds of TVs and slivers of lights in the corridors above told me there were still people renting some of the apartments.

   We entered the stairwell and I helped Emily up the flights of concrete steps to the top floor. It was even worse than the ground floor: There were empty beers cans here and there, shards of glass, a soiled condom, and a broken syringe. It was a vile place.

   ‘Doesn’t get much worse than this,’ Emily said as she inspected the many names that were scribbled on the walls. ‘A real cesspit.’

   ‘Welcome to my new home.’

   ‘At least we spirits can’t detect smells from the living world.’

   ‘That’s not much consolation, Emily.’

   Light was pulsing from under one of the doors up ahead. This was not the artificial light of a bulb or TV. This was a magical light. It twirled slowly into the hallway like mercury waltzing in dark water. It was almost hypnotic to gaze upon. I moved ahead and was free of trepidation. The silverfish mist consumed me, caressed me, enticing me inside. I passed through the door and found the sitting room on the other side was filled with shimmering leaves of silver, all dancing independently of one another. The mist flowed into my spiritual body, embracing me, filling me with contentment and warmth. It was intoxicating. Like a narcotic for spirits. 

   ‘Magnificent, isn’t it?’

   I turned to see Emily standing next to the door, giddy in the midst of the ethereal fog.

   ‘This,’ she said, waving her hands through the glittering smoke, ‘happens when you first encounter your chosen. It’s part of the signal that drew you here.’

   ‘Does it stay like this?’

   ‘Sadly not. It’ll fade soon enough.’ She plodded towards another doorway inside the apartment, the one that the silver light was escaping from. ‘In here.’

   I cautiously went to her side then peered into the room. It was untidy and poky, full of books and drawing pads that were stacked on shelves, on the floor and the desk by the only window. There were posters covering most of the walls, as if someone was trying to hide some hideous, prehistoric wallpaper. There was also an old acoustic guitar standing by the desk and that made me smile. Perhaps she was as artistic and musical as I had been in life. It would certainly make it easier if we were to have a lot in common.

   ‘I was under the impression she would be a new born,’ I said to Emily as we passed fully into the room.

   ‘Most of the time guides are attached to infants. There are occasions though, when we are sent to guide older children - even teenagers.’

   I looked to the left I saw her for the first time. She was sitting on the bed and her aura was brighter than any other I’d ever seen. It almost looked like she was on fire. There was a turquoise glow fizzing from her body and curling into the air above her and snaking across the ceiling. 

   After a moment my vision adjusted and I could penetrate the aura to see the person beneath. She was a lot younger than me, maybe fourteen years old, had short blonde hair, a bright face and dazzling green eyes that were focused on a book lying open on her lap.

   ‘She could open her own library,’ I said, glancing around the room. ‘She’s a right book worm, this one.’

   ‘She’s very smart,’ Emily said with a nod of approval. ‘Can you sense it?’

   ‘Yes.’

   I actually could sense it. Her brain was so bright and busy - nothing like the other minds that I’d scanned that day. In fact, her thinking was almost on another level entirely.

   ‘What do you think it means?’

   ‘That she has a big future,’ Emily replied. ‘One that must be protected at all costs. That’s why you’ve been placed as her guide. You might even learn a few things from all these books.’ Emily sat at the foot of the bed and studied the girl. ‘What can you see in her?’

   ‘Her name is Laura. She was born in May. Her father died eight years ago and she’s happiest when in the company of a book.’ I sat between them and stared at the serious expression on Laura’s face. ‘She is naturally optimistic, but there is a sadness, or fear, smothering the hope that dwells inside her.’

   ‘Why is she the only one at home?’ Emily wondered. ‘Where is her mother?’

   ‘How should I know?’

   ‘Read her thoughts!’

   I turned to Laura and examined her face again. I found that I could actually peer into her mind and explore the thoughts that were active, and some that were subconscious. It was an incredible experience. Most of her active mind was taken up with what she was reading, and I read every word that she read. I channelled past these thoughts and tried to understand the other, deeper thought processes. They were difficult to interpret. I felt that the only other person that lived in the apartment was her mother, who had just gone-

   ‘This is going to be harder than I first thought,’ I admitted solemnly. ‘Much harder.’

   ‘Why?’

   ‘Her mother is at the liquor store. She goes at the same time every evening and she’ll be home soon to drink her purchase.’

   ‘Poverty is not all Laura has to deal with.’

   ‘Perhaps this is why she has to deal with poverty.’

   Emily placed her hand on mine. ‘Don’t get too disheartened, Lucy. That’s her mother’s life. You must guide Laura clear of all these troubles in the coming years. That’s what you’re here to do.’

   ‘It’ll be a long hard road, won’t it?’

   ‘It would appear so.’

   ‘You had an easy time compared to what I’ve been landed with.’

   ‘You weren’t all that easy.’

   That wonderful first moment with my chosen was ruined when we heard a key scratching at the front door of the apartment. Laura’s mother, Grace, had arrived home and was rummaging about the kitchen on the other side of the apartment. It wasn’t long before she came to the room, and I didn’t like the look of her at all. She was thirty one years old, but looked older, and she had an unpleasant way about her. I didn’t have to read her mind to know she was consumed by her addiction to alcohol. All I had to do was look at her bloodshot eyes.

   ‘Why aren’t you out playing? School’s finished for the summer. No need to be reading books when there’s no school.’

   ‘It’s not a school book, Grace,’ Laura replied, overstating her mother’s name. Grace was in fact an entire sentence: “I don’t consider you as my mother.”

   ‘Doesn’t matter what type of book it is. You shouldn’t be home all day. You should be out playing.’

   ‘Out there with the junkies and the dealers, the drunken homeless men, and the scumbags on their stolen motorbikes? I’d rather stay indoors, thank you very much.’

   ‘Don’t be like that.’

   ‘I’m not being like anything.’

   ‘I hate having to deal with this attitude all the time. I’m tired, you know. You could cut me some slack now and again.’

   ‘You’re tired because you get drunk every night.’

   ‘A drink helps me with my nerves, okay! It’s none of your damned business anyway.’

   ‘Unfortunately, your life is my business because we live together.’ Laura took hold of her cell phone and lit the screen, checking the time. ‘You’re home later than usual…’

   ‘What are you trying to say?’

   ‘Are you seeing someone again?’

   ‘That’s none of your business either. Maybe you should get a life and stop poking your nose into mine.’

   ‘I’d have a life if I didn’t have to live in this dump. I would even venture outdoors if we lived somewhere better.’

   ‘That’s your excuse for living like a hermit?’

   ‘I’d rather be sitting here reading a book. I don’t like being out there after dark.’

   ‘Tough. I just realised I forgot to buy cigarettes. Go down to the store and pick me up a pack.’ She flung a rolled up note onto the bed and headed for the door. ‘And make sure you bring back my change this time. You never bring back the change.’

   ‘I don’t like going to that store at night!’

   ‘Don’t be such a baby, Laura.’

   ‘Bitch,’ Laura cursed under her breath. ‘Absolute bitch.’

   The conversation, if you could call it that, had ended and Laura slammed her book on the floor and stuffed her feet into a pair of old boots. I sensed her fear as she took the cash from the bed and prepared to leave the apartment. I didn’t blame her for being scared. The area was dangerous in daylight and I could only fashion a guess at what type of craziness went on under the cloak of night.

   I found myself standing next to her as she stood in front of the mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She was dragging a brush through her hair, not like she was trying to tidy her locks, but in an obsessive way, as if it was a nervous tick. I looked down at her and I felt pity. A book worm like her would have been an easy target even in the place I grew up in, but this was one of the toughest neighbourhoods in the state. She was a sheep, and Millbrook was home to many wolves.