The Night Visitor

A strange humming noise wakes me from the much-needed deep sleep I am in. Pitted into the mattress, I sluggishly pull myself out of bed and reach for my phone. 3:30 AM flashes at me from the brightness of the screen. I sigh angrily and lay back down, but the annoying humming noise is becoming louder, as if it’s calling to me. Jumping out of bed, I throw on my hoodie and make my way down the stairs, each step as creaky as my knees. I pop the kettle on, hoping that it drowns out that goddamn humming, but it doesn’t; it just gets louder. That’s when I notice it, a strange beam of light shooting across the back garden. I rush to the window, almost colliding with a chair on the way, and see that the light is coming from the shed. I pull open the patio doors and rush down the garden, not giving a shit that my socks are absolutely saturated. I stall as I reach the shed door. The humming has stopped. I pull the handle, the door opens, and the bright beam of light momentarily blinds me. I stand there completely mesmerized; it’s some kind of portal, right here in my tiny garden shed.

“Hello there,” a voice says from behind me. I almost jump out of my skin. “What the hell, man?” I shout. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“My apologies, young man. It wasn’t my intention to frighten you. In fact, I was expecting you a little sooner. They won’t stay there forever, you know.”

“I’m sorry, what? Expecting me sooner? And who won’t stay there forever?”

“You’ll soon see,” said the strange man.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but who are you and what are you doing hanging around my garden shed at 3:30AM in the morning?”

“I’m the Night Visitor,” the man replies.

I pinch myself as I’m certain I must be dreaming, but the yelp that accompanies the pinch tells me otherwise. I’m definitely awake.

“Let me start again. Why are you here? And why is there a bright flashing portal in my garden shed?”

“My role as the Night Visitor is to help people who are struggling with grief, people who are struggling to move on with their lives. the portal is what I like to call a small piece of hope that can bring a little bit of happiness back into your life, even if it’s just for a short time.”

“As crazy as all this sounds,” I say, “I feel like I’m being drawn to you, like a magnet attracting me in.”

“It’s not me you are drawn to,” the Night Visitor says. “Let me ask you a question, if you could see anyone again that has left this world, who would it be?”

A tear runs down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away. “That’s easy,” I choke, “it would be my grandparents.”

“Just as I thought,” the Night Visitor nods, “it’s time.”

“Time for what?” I say.

“Time you have the chance to see your grandparents again.”

The Night Visitor leads me to the shed door, my heart is racing. “I never got the chance to say goodbye to them,” I say.

“I know,” the Night Visitor nods, “now walk straight into the light, they will be waiting for you.”

I take a deep breath and walk through the light. A strange tingling sensation travels through my body, I feel light, like all the tension built up in me is disappearing. And there they are, Grandad sitting in his favourite armchair, his Friday night glass of whiskey next to him. And Grandma in her dressing gown, feet up on the small table that her crosswords sit on. I drop to my knees, tears stream from my eyes. They look so happy, just how I remember them. It’s been five years since they passed, and I’ve never really come to terms with it, and that’s when I realize, I shouldn’t be on my knees moping, I have been given extra time with the people who mean the most to me, time that many others aren’t lucky enough to have. I stand up, brush myself down, and slowly walk towards the room. I suddenly feel nervous, will they be able to tell that I’ve been unhappy all these years? Wait, who am I kidding, of course they will know, Grandma always had a way of knowing when something wasn’t right, it was like some sort of grandma superpower.

“Hello,” I say quietly as I enter the room.

“You took your bloody time,” Grandad jokes, “your Grandma said I wasn’t allowed a sip of my whiskey until you arrived.”

I laugh as they both stand up, Grandma hugs me first, I feel all my worries disappear, just like they always did when she hugged me.

“You feel thin,” she says, “are you eating enough?”

The truth is I’m not, but I laugh again and tell her, “Of course I’m eating enough, so stop worrying.”

Grandad isn’t much of a hugger, but the moment he hugs me, I feel he needs it just as much as I do, he has always been my biggest fan.

Grandma ushers me to sit down, so I do. “This is surreal,” I say, “do you know how long we have together?”

“Unfortunately, not very long,” Grandma sighs.

“Hopefully long enough for me to finish my whiskey,” Grandad winks at me.

“It’s been a tough few years,” I tell them, “more so because I never got the chance to say goodbye. I know our time here is limited, so I just want to thank you both for all the love and support you have given me. Thank you for all the ways you spoiled me. Thank you for taking such great care of me, you both have always been the best fun to be around. I’m extremely grateful for all the fun times we spent together. If it wasn’t for you both, I don’t think I’d be here, so I just want you to know, you saved my life. I love you both very much.”

“We always knew how much you cared for us,” Grandma smiles, “so please go and live your life to the fullest, we will be with you every step of the way.”

“It’s time,” Grandad sighs, “we are sorry we didn’t get more time but at least now, you’ve had the chance to say goodbye,” he hugs me again and whispers in my ear, “I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

I can see Grandma welling up, so I pull her close, “Thank you again for everything,” I say, “you brought so much joy into my life.”

I can feel the portal light drawing me in. “I better go,” I say. I love you both more than you know.

I sleep well into the afternoon. I haven’t woken up smiling in years. There is no shadow looming over me, just the bright sunlight beaming through the window. I turn over for five more minutes of warmth and notice a framed photo sitting on my bedside table. I reach for it and instantly smile again. It’s a photo of my grandparents and me from when I was a little boy, and in big bold writing underneath, it reads, “It’s never goodbye, it’s see you later.”