Candle Flame

Warning Swearing and Violence.

Mention of death and stillborn.

The sky was an electrical mishmash. I felt satisfied as I veiwed, from the patio, at the freshly mowed yard, "Just in time," I thought. Hot clouds behaved like a low, hoovering helicopter. The atmosphere stuck to my arms; It felt- sinister! My thoughts hurried, "I better go inside! A flash of lightning, immediately followed by a BANG, affirmed my observation. I exclaimed, "Hell, that was close!" My hair floated out and up from airborne static. The Australian Mother Nature's lid had opened, tipped and boy was She pouring her bucket loads of water, assisted by her team of angry winds, over us.

Before I could reach the coloured- glass, casement windows, they were shaking and thunder rolling. The centre parts of all the curtains bulbed and jirated. occassionally grounded by their heavy, drenched hems. The linoleum, below them had already puddled. My old Queenslander house still retained, most of its original windows. The casement windows have stays, or wide hinges. Stubby type, large headed screws found in the elbow of the stays, fixed the window's position. For me - the trouble was the bolts were stuck! As water belted my straining hands- the grit loosened and I manage heave them shut.

Next came to mind, "Oh God - the spare bedroom - the new boarder's room - open too!" SLAM! I slide Rob's aluminium window shut! His new curtains were also wet, and his new linoleum also puddled!

Full packing cartons filled the room like Lego creations. I shoved several half-opened overflowing packing boxes away from the water. Chucked a blanket off the floor onto his bed. Some of the lighter boxes were uprooted by my swift strong thick ankle kick. One over-impatient blow tipped over a scoundrel, heaped, messy, milk crate. "Pooh", I could smell old sweat! I recognised a black, grubby, tiger-emblemed football jersey, as well as, its matching long, thick-ribbed red and black holed socks. Among other wiffy things- greyish pyjama pants, scrumpled undies, notebooks, a spanner and a wooden board! Honestly, I stopped looking! I thought, "Not picking them up for you Robbo!'" The thought of sharing with an macho aussie - a Robbo, not Robbie or Rob - repulsed me. Robbo was not endearing and lingering disgust helped propelled all the others boxes!

BOOOM! FLASH! The light in the bedroom and hallway went out. I heard Valerie, the neighbour yell, "Oh Shit- IS that our tree? Hon- it hit OUR tree!" Half the neighbourhood were glaring out their windows at the sight! "You guys ok?", Troy hallowed from his Shanty porch. Not waiting for an answer, he hopped and pulled on each 'R M William' boot. He doned his 'Dry as a Bone' overcoat and crowned his balding head with his bushy mateship badge- the 'Akrubra' hat!

Crossing the road, braving crazy weather conditions, being "the Mate who showed up", he stood at a safe, six-foot, comfortable distance from the Gum tree. Water poured from his hat brim, he frowned to himself. BOOM! The hit tree fork exploded from the resin. The conflugration bellowed out black smoke. CRACK! "Oh Fuck!" Troy backstepped, to dodge the falling large branch and splattering embers.

Valerie stretched over her verandah rail, holding her iphone in the rain recording everything. She had cleverly covered the phone with a clear plastic bag, tightly stretch over the ands and caught the dead weight branch fall. She schemed, after her followers had watched that- she would download her extended version of the slow burn branch laying in thick undergrowth during the torrential. "WOOO..", she cooed as a Tik Tok influencer "..I bet that 'l be a million veiws - easy - yer!"

Anytime, Haggadah was skittish around loud noises. This time was the worst ever noise! I felt around Rob's bedroom. I saw a feint greyish outline of a hunched cat body, "There you are, little one...." knocking my head on one of Rob's precarious box towers, I called, "...Oh Come here- puss- puss- come here little girl!" I knew it was better to carry Haggadah with me, otherwise she might get away and pee there somewhere. "Mummy's got to go to the kitchen to get the matches. Hadda- coming with me?" I didn't wait for her to agree. I scoop her up to my chest.

Protesting- Hadda hung limp like a bean bag. Haggadah belonged to the house, or should I say the house's previous owners! But cats can run away and cats can hide and those people were moving to Darwin. They were Armed Services - those sort of people run on a tight deadlines! I established, that caused her attitude. I could feel Haggadah's sarcastic purr on my hip! Yes, cats do sarcastically purr sometimes! And Haggadah was the cheifton of The Sarcastic Purr! From previous experiences, her eyes would shine bright and happy. I could just feel them shining now- that watery sarcastic look seering through me. I knew she was satisfied with herself, with the added limp weight and difficulty she had brought me, as I tried to balance and do cautious steps, one foot slowly in front of the other, down a spooky hallway! Feeling the walls, for direction, with my free hand, I made my way to the kitchen.

"Yep, I got 'em", I said stoically. The matches, as well as a cigarette lighter, were always there, next to the cultery in the top drawer. Haggadah circumvented, escaped, and for the first time I heard her land on all fours. Sheet lightning allowed me to navigate to the lavender scented candle. It was still in its normal place, perched on the loungeroom's pot belly stove. I spiked a flame with the cigarette lighter and watched as the candle flame grew tall and then fell low like a dying soldier. Whoosh! The light blew out! I trotted, with the help of the lighter's flick, to the culprit, the loungeroom window! I thought, "The wax was old and wrinkled, so the wick might not be too good either." Spinning around, Clunk, I knocked my toe on a jutting chair leg! "Ouch!" I shooved, the bloody thing into its place, stopping once I felt the cushioned, chair head buffer the kitchen table-top.

I hobbled, pulling from my short pocket, the stashed box of long matches. The match stick - gauranteed- burnt a strong flame. After I relit the candle, Just in case, I left the match stick burning and waited. Satisfied, I shook the match out. Walking tall back along the hallway, with Haggadah deciding to accompany, we both joined in the harmony of a half- metre, elliptic, orange glow.

On my own bedroom floor - the candle flared. I had placed it on a saucer, I grabbed from underneath my Money plant. I did not want to burn the house down! The polished Mahogany floorboards radiated reflective pink light to the ceiling and walls. Momentarily, that pink, dancing aura, calmed both our stomachs, both on us licking our lips in sort of a inate suckling motion. Outside the water carnage had appeared to dull, the flame gave us a false sense of security. Haggadah emotionally exhausted, plonked herself on the knitted leg blanket at the end of my bed.

I decided to wait out the storm on the floor. I squashed my back against the wardrobe. With legs bent, this time relaxed, I listened to all the old coloured glass rattling their rhythm in their frames and windchimes crash! What- the windchimes crashed? My glass window bubbled inwards. The Debree of drenched leafs, twigs, plastics swirled past in a six-foot water spout. Gales screeched like owls and hails stones pelted the tin roof, yanking rusting nails from separate sheets, like a bad tooth extraction and leaving dog- eared corners whistling the eerie midnight shrill of a thief.

A blast of wind tunnelled down the hallway from the backdoor? I second guessed myself, "Did I leave the back door open?" I knew I DID see the back door shut, as it is adjacent to the kitchen drawers. I remember I had made a big deal to double check that when I tested the cigarette lighter. I did see the closed door's lacquer shine.

The air blew hard from the bathroom. Impossible! That window was pokey! Like a pole dancer, the candle flame gripped its wick at right angles. BANG! More lightening! The wind, this time blew from Rob's room. Impossible! I knew his window was definitely closed.

Rob's television and radio switched on simultaneously. I felt uneasy. I reassured myself, "With so much lightning around, how can the appliances not be affected" Both rolled through channels. Sometimes there was a sung word or three-to-six words sung, "You can do magic"- other times, a partial news sounding reports, "..Torrential rains hit Queensland.." static - inaudible superimposing tones, music and voices - beeping- noise scatter- more music- talking "...Woolongong crowds are cheering.." then the words in a rustic male voice with a distinct Pommy accent said, "Who are you?" I felt goosebumps raise on my arms and legs. Haggadah hissed! Then nothing, as people say these days, 'there was a loud silence.'

My brass door nob's base wobbled. Wham! My door slammed shut. Haggadah fell off the bed and dived into the pit of my stomach. My heart pounded in disbelief as I heard the metal mechanisms of the lock twist, fall and then Click! A Click that sounded like my door had been locked.! But that was unreasonable, doors don't lock themselves! My breathing became fast. I did not feel so good and Haggadah now with a tail puffed up like a possum took refuge under the duchess. In the horror, I saw something at the door and in my other horror, I could hear Hadda scratching, probably to pee!

A heavy shadow pulled my dark green Anorak downwards on the large door hook! Really! At the other door hook, A small spark of light flickered out near the dangling bra compacted against a badly snarred floral silk dressing gown . The gown swung a little too. I looked away and then back again, it was stationary! I thought satirically. "Oh, I see Anorak people! Oh, I see Dressing gown people!" What nonsense! I dismissed all this as meer imagination and irrarional thinking! I had to put my big girl boots on and confront that door and my childish 'under the bed' fears. Besides, I was suffocating from the bad mixture of lavender, cat pee and poop. No excuses- It had to be cleaned immediately!

The nob WAS stuck - wouldn't turn. I yanked at the door with all my might again, and again- nothing- it wouldn't budge! The door IS locked! I let out a whine and stamped my feet, not a tantrum, more an anxiety dance! I buckled a belt around the nob and tried to wrench the door open. NoOo!

KNOCK! I could not believe I was hearing that! KNOCK! I put both my hands on the wood. KNOCK, KNOCK! - Yes, I could feel the wood vibrating! "Whose there?", I stuttered. No answer. "Rob is that you?" No answer. "Oh for God's sake, it's not funny Rob!" My thoughts were running maybe I had a prowler in my home? "Get out of my house!" No sound.

I banged back at the door. Beside my shoulder, the shadow formed again and orbs moved away from the coat. I reversed and squatted, dragging the bean bag glaring cat into my arms. My nerves, deep-patted Haggadah's rigid head, the force bending her lumbar backbone and along her tail, over and over again!

The orbs enlarged, there were three of them the size of basketballs now! over the The shadow puffed a glutinous membrane type. My terrorised, fast forward mind had heard of that stuff! A pattern of disorganised pictures, from a university history class tutorial flashed like a slide projector:

A picture of a Victorian table leg covered with cotton lace;

A picture of a egyptian mummy on a Victorian era table;

A picture of Victorian upperclass men and women linking their fingers around a table doing a seance;

A picture of a rigged Victorian era psychic medium with jelly stuff funnelling above her from wherever?

That stuff was real! I was in deep trouble!

"WHAT are you doing in my house?" SMASH! My head hurt, it pounded at the back of my skull. It? He? grabbed my leg. Thousands of vaults surged through me. My muscles convulsed, my jaw clenched, my teeth chattered, then my tongue sucked into the back of my throat. I couldn't breathe! I was choking!

Another SMASH! I hurdled mid-air into the duchess. A glass vase filled with marbles sharded. Spent flowers flew and marbles bounced. Lack of oxygen! My eyes roll to the back of my head. My right hand curled into a tight ball like a dead spider.

Then my eyes were open. I tried to close my eyelids, so I did not have to see him. I thought, "Goodbye cruel world!"

**************************************

My hospital window showcased teal frost and softened images of eucalyptus tree tops. A nurse entered, checking the heart machine, my pulse and temperature, she smiled. She injected something into my drip. "For your pain!" My head and neck had a dull hurt." I muttered, "What happened?" Making poised eye contact, " You had a panic attack!" I gathered my thoughts- I protested, "No- No... " Slurring my words as the medicine entered my veins, "... No- I Swallowed my tongue- Nah- body shaking- umm- muscles convulsed- yer- my head bashed- yer- this hand curled- couldn't move- could breathe" She firmly reiterated, "YOU had a Panic Attack!"

Three shadows appeared at the doorway. I hoped THEY weren't the clothes ghosts again? Or were they?" As they came closer, a little fur ball darted passed them and jumped on the bed. "Oooh Haggadah" The Nurse said, "Looks like you've got visitors!" and strolled off continuing her morning rounds.

Dad bent and kissed my forehead tenderly, "We nearly lost you!" My sister Marigold, or Goldie, moved the armchair closer to my bed and stroked my hand. Bending she kissed my bruised cheek, "Darlin' we got here as soon as we could!" Then the third person standing at the end of the bed, who I did not recognised, touched my blanketless foot, "We haven't met." 

Goldie left the room and returned with two metal chairs, one in each hand. The room was small, probably all my health insurance could afford! One chair fitted just between the window, monitor, drip- and my bed. The other chair jammed next to the arm chair and bed.

Goldie motioned at both metal chairs, "Give your feet some rest!" Both Dad and the other woman sat. Dad introduced her, "This is Maree, your twin sister!" I murmured, "I don't have a twin sister Dad!" Firmly Goldie interjected, "Maria- Yes you do! Crossing my arms, "No- I don't!" Maree standing, pulling the blanket straight and tucking it in, "YES! I am your twin sister!" Feeling both confused and contrary, I retorted, "What sort of Mother would call her identical twin daughters- Maree and Maria?" Goldie sighed and droned, "Our Mother!"

I did remember my Mother telling my former husband, Terence, "Maria had a twin", but I did not believe him, or her for that matter. No excuses, I had always been a loner. My father sensing my distress and concerned about my delicate condition, reassuringly touched my shoulder, "I didn't believe your Mother either- those days the hospital did not record stillborns"

Realisation blasted through my intravenous Meds. Bolt upright "Hang on" pain rippled through my body, "Dead twin sister? ARE YOU ALL FUCKING BONKERS!" My long term memory returning - I visualised the placing of roses, lillies and baby breath on both my Father's and sister's grave last June!" As the memory enhanced- Last June, I had parked my car and walked to the grave sites. I had cleared off and binned old dead bouquets. I had washed the gravestones. The dawning reality began core muscle spasms.

My heart line made large zigzags. Goldie holding my shuddering shoulders down against the pillows, "Stay calm! The electrics of the storm were powerful! We all knew Jim, the Vietnam veteran - the violent ghost. He could not cope with societal abuse and rejection. He was a angry and lonely man!" I gasp hoarsely. My father quickly nodded next to Goldie, "Do you remember the backyard had a Well?" Bamboozled, breathing sharply, "What has that got to do with things?" Maree asked the next guided question, "When Rob's stuff fell out on the floor, did you check what he had?" Irritated and hurting at my relatives huge mind fuck, I pressed the buzzer, "Nurse- Nurse!"

Things started to disappear in my room. Goldie reignited the five-way conversation, "Your house was built over natural Springs - the Well right?" I had done a bit of dabbling in my life, nothing substantial. I did remember reading Purple Psychic Gypsy's site, "Underground springs and geo-magnetics, ley lines are the primary cause of psychic phenomena or haunting in a house." I froze. Maree added, "Your border's girlfriend smuggled her wrapped oujii board in that football jersey!" Dad bent forward, "A wild electrical storm - underground springs- and oujii board - My dear that's one hell of a Dangerous situation you were in!"

Several realities boggily matted together in my thoughts. The Anorak was a violent man. The storm- the springs- the oujii board conjured him! And if I was talking to dead people... I Screamed from my next thought, "...Then I'm dead too!" In life, and it seems also, in death, Goldie had a morbid sense of humour, "Now there YOU are??? Running out of time, Dad reproached, "Enough of this rubbish! This tripe! Maria- you are in the in-between dimension. The hospital hologram is here to help you adjust!" I spat out, "ADJUST TO FUCKING WHAT- DEATH????" Everyone chorused, "YES!"

The tribe- my tribe had spoken! All earth reality faded. A candle burned creating an elliptic of orange light. Haggadah leading the funeral procession, paced, wore a military costume, paced and drum rolled the death march. The others carried me kicking and screaming across the sand near the ocean. Dad exclaimed, "Pull yourself together!" Our bodies faded to orbs. Five circles of white light merged to one. I heard a melodic angelic voice say, "Well done good and faithful servants."