Wendy’s Stormy Discoveries

  Wendy was shaking in her bed. Not so much because of the cold, rather because she was so frightened. Yet another awfully loud and flashy storm raged in England. In night, all she could hear were thudding thunders, rain knocking on her window, and creaky floor. She could see no prettier images either—striking lightings slashing into her room, painting shadows on the walls. It seemed like they were out to get her. 

     She huddled deeper into her bed and pressed her eyelids tightly together. The black managed to ease the heaviness of the grey aquarium her room turned into. Nonetheless, she felt Storm Ghosts were coming. She felt cold breeze that rushed through her body. Her hair stood up like little soldiers. As if water had been rising, flooding her bed, she felt the Storm Ghosts creeping up her spine and arms. Their breaths were light but loud, their touch gentle, yet electrifying. They were there. In the room.

     Wendy’s older sister, Mia, told Wendy about the Storm Ghosts when they arrived in England at the beginning of July. Ever since, wherever Wendy would look, there would be monsters lurking, waiting for her to turn her back on them, so they could bite, snap, tear. Had the Fragiles swapped New York’s safe grid of metal and concrete for an island of Boogeymen? 

     The floor creaked yes. 

     A sob slipped through Wendy’s lips. She curled in a ball and hid in the sheets, muffling the storm raging in and outside of her bed. The monsters retrieved for a moment. Wendy hid well. But the floor creaked again, and again, and yet again it squeaked! Until it didn’t. Until things fell silent. Until everything stopped. 

    A sudden quiet. Nothing moved. But a shadow lingered at the side of Wendy’s bed. Its presence was palpable, although its body wasn’t. Out of blue—or out of grey—the weight of air fell entirely on Wendy. She sunk even deeper into the mattress with her anchor-like heart. Her chest shrank, her lungs followed. She felt like a helpless baby. Which is exactly what Mia told her Wendy was! Thinking of this, Wendy knew she couldn’t scream or run into her sister’s room. She was, after all, too stubborn and too resilient to submit to Mia’s truth. In her bed, Wendy was safe. The Storm Ghosts couldn’t get to her. There wasn’t even a storm anymore! 

     But the creeping feeling of a shadow standing next to her bed prevailed: it didn’t move. It didn’t make any noise. In fact, it could have been gone! It… it could have gone already! Maybe it had gone away with the rain to haunt other children who were afraid! Maybe it had gone because Wendy wasn’t afraid anymore! Should she risk it for the biscuit and peak? She tried, she wanted to, but her heart wouldn’t let her. She trapped herself in a cage of which she knew it would keep her safe. But the bars were made of fear and, at the end, fear was what Wendy was trying so hard to break away from. 

     So in a moment of being too busy overthinking, her arm stretched and swept off the sheets. 

     Wendy’s body stiffened. For what is worth, she felt as if she’d been dragged amidst the fleece of mattress. As if she’d been lying in a quicksand. And sinking.

     When she realised she should have screamed, too many seconds have passed already. It was too late to cry for help. 

     “Mia?” 

     The monster kept quiet. 

     It had a human-like build—slender body, two legs, two arms—but it couldn’t be a person. Its skin was black, totally black, pitch black. And not just that—it looked like a stone, and the stone was cracked, and in the cracks there was bright red, glowing fluid, almost like lava in a volcano! Wendy didn’t see its hands or feet, nor did she pay much attention to monster’s body. What captivated her was the monster’s face: it had non. Apart from two black craters, into which she was looking deeply, the monster’s head differed no more from stone than a rocky mountain. 

     The monster moaned.

     Scared, Wendy sucked in a breath. She clenched her fingers in the sheets, but she wouldn’t cover her head or hide in bed. She was mesmerized by what seemed like monster’s eyes. Those two craters were glazed, glinting like water glints when sun shines on it. And they looked sad.

     “Simon?” Wendy didn’t believe her brother would dress up as a monster to scare her. Mia was a better bet. But she had to try nonetheless. For some reason, she wasn’t as frightened as she was ten minutes ago when she was hiding under the bed sheets, listening to storm. 

     The monster moaned again.

     “Are you… Storm Ghost?” she whispered, her voice trembling. 

     The monster purred. It purred like a cat! Was that a yes? Wendy was so excited and yet so scared that her heart didn’t even know whether to beat or not. As a result, it was rather bungee-jumping in her chest irregularly, making her stomach turn upside down and causing her troubles with breathing. 

     “Are you here to haunt me?” Wendy asked after some time of gathering courage. 

     The Ghost moaned. 

     As if it had lost interest in her, it turned on its axis towards the open door, and started walking very slowly. The floor creaked on every step of the Ghost’s way. 

     Wendy watched the monster’s clumsy-bumpsy moves with eyes wide open. She thought that if she had blinked, it would vanish. And it would definitely be gone had she fallen asleep! 

     When the Ghost stopped in the dark hallway, illuminated only by its own lava red glow, Wendy realised it didn’t try to haunt her. Less so hurt her. It was sad! Lonely, perhaps. Who knew, maybe even in seek of a friend! Wendy could be friends with it, could she not? 

     The monster turned its head and looked Wendy’s way with its black glinting craters. It moaned slightly louder. Then it raised its arm, struggling to get it just few inches away from its body. The body—it seemed to melt! The Ghost moaned again. Then its arm plopped back to its side, where it started to really melt. Like—melt-melt. Like an ice. And then the monster purred. 

     Was the Ghost talking to Wendy?

     “Do you want me to come with?”

     Purr. 

     Wendy’s feet made ploppy-floppy noises as she tiptoed into the hallway. The monster purred again, sounding almost happy. Wendy had to giggle. She already forgot she was frightened to death just some minutes ago. 

     What a strange night! she thought to herself. 

     The Ghost, again, tried to raise its arm to point at something but it was now more of a gooey, melted rock—or tar—and had obvious problems moving around. It glared at the door on the opposite side of the hall and then his arm plopped back, and his gaze fell as well. Wendy was now staring deeply into Ghost’s crater-like eyes, and the more she was doing so, the more she wanted to make this monster happy. If monsters could have been good, this one must have been! Good deserves to be happy.

     She looked at the Ghost’s left hand. It was melting into the rest of its body, now reminding her of oil. The lava-red glowing fluid, that peaked through stone cracks not so long ago, was streaming all over the black goo, flowing with it, but not mixing. It began to look like the surface of the Fragiles’ marble kitchen desk on the first floor. 

     The monster moaned yet again. He sounded demanding, as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere. He attempted to raise his arm once more, but utterly failed this time. 

     Wendy looked up again, immediately diving into the glazing blackness of monster’s eyes, and smiled. She was sure there was nothing she should be worried about. Wendy was a girl of strong belief in friendship. She knew what it felt like being lonely, and she also knew a friend can make that loneliness go away. 

    She dipped her hand in the black goo, which was nice and warm, and curled her fingers around what seemed to be a palm. The oil-like matter hardened and turned back into black stone, although the rest of monster’s body remained gooey. She could now feel the hard, rocky hand of the Storm Ghost. This made Wendy smile even more. When hers and the Ghost’s eyes met, they exchanged a spark—half-delighted, half-surprised.

     “You can lead the way,” Wendy told it. 

     Now, when the monster purred, shivers buzzed all over Wendy’s tiny body like electric sparks. It tickled and she giggled. To accompany her quiet laugh, the Ghost gave out a high-pitched hum and a moan that did sound truly happy this time. 

     With his melting legs, the Ghost started taking first steps towards the door on the other side of the hallway. Wendy had a heart of an explorer and it was so pleased they were going on an adventure that it found a stable, although fast rhythm to beat to. Walking about the staircase and moving at the speed of a snail, their journey was doomed to be long, but that was okay. Too many questions were popping up under Wendy’s golden curls. This way, she may gained the time to ask at least few of them.

     “So, are you a Storm Ghost? If so, where are others like you? Why didn’t you leave with the storm? What’s your name? Why are you here, anyway?” 

      Ghost didn’t reply on the first set of questions. Only to the last one, when he tugged on Wendy’s hand. Wendy looked at the door they were approaching—approaching very, very slowly, but still approaching. They had always been locked. When Wendy asked about why was that so, her aunt, with who they were staying, said it is better for this door to stay closed. Of course, Wendy went on to fantasise about secret worlds like Narnia or Hogwarts, and about mythical creatures like unicorns and quokkas, but her aunt’s caretaker soon poured a bucket of icy reason on Wendy’s head, saying there was just a big mess nobody was keen on cleaning. Was that why the Ghost came? For a trash? 

     “My aunt says there’s nothing much behind there. Why are we going there? What do you want from there? My aunt is a mummy, you know. She knows stuff. Oh!” Wendy exclaimed as an excellent idea came across her mind. “Are you a mummy? Is my aunt hiding something there? Something from Egypt? Or the pyramids? Wait.” She stopped, raised her gaze at Ghost’s faceless head and frowned. “Are you my aunt?” 

     Ghost just moaned and tugged on Wendy’s hand again. They were already about three quarters into their journey. The door weren’t that far away—or they weren’t that far from the door—when the lock hole started to gleam, very dim at first. After few more steps and intensive, focused and silent stares Wendy and Ghost were giving it, the gleam grew into a white, then red glow. Few more steps and the glow became a bright beam of white and red light. The doorknob started to shake. 

     Wendy, mesmerized at first, sucked in a breath and quickly hid behind Ghost. Without realizing it, she pressed herself against Ghost’s gooey body. It was warm and squishy. It felt like a pillow! She shut her eyes and covered her mouth with free hand to muffle a sob. Although Wendy was terrified, Ghost kept going, taking Wendy along. Few steps from the misbehaving door, he turned around and his chin plopped against his chest so he could look at the little scared girl who was holding onto him. Wendy felt slow, clumsy pat on her back. She looked up and a lava-red curve carved itself on Ghost’s face. A smile? Ghost purred. A smile! 

     Wendy smiled at him, too, and then looked at the door. Oh, a strange night, indeed, she told herself again. 

     “Do you want me to open it?” Wendy asked, feeling Ghost’s stare at the top of her head. She was watching the light beam change colours and the doorknob shake. She couldn’t look away.

     Purr. 

     Wendy was hoping for a moan, though. “I am scared,” she said but took a step forward.

     It took Ghost some time, still, he patted her on the back once again. He didn’t push her, just patted. Somehow, this comforted Wendy so much she decided to take one more small step. She gulped, uneasy heaviness weighed her chest down. She reached forward with her hand.

     Now, the door started shaking along with the knob. Shaking like a mad man. Wendy quickly backed away, sucking in a breath like a vacuum cleaner. Once her lungs were full to explode, she stopped breathing and stopped by Ghost’s side, too. His one stony hand fell around Wendy’s shoulders. She looked up for a brief moment, her pupils widened by terror. But the Ghost was smiling. Still with eyebrows furrowed with worries, she slowly let go of all the air she was holding in. Breathing felt good. It helped. 

     Followed by Ghost’s intense stare, Wendy started to walk slowly towards the door. It had gone mad, its shaking seemed to want to turn into screams. Wendy gulped again. And again, there was heaviness weighing her down, but it was the weight of a kind hand. She stretched her arm. The shaking did turn into shrieks and the light blinded her. She had to look away, hiding her face in the elbow of her left arm. But she wouldn’t back away this time. 

     Her fingers touched the doorknob. 

     The house has gone silent and dark again. There was a flash of lightning, which lit the empty hallway. What happened? Where has Ghost gone? Wendy looked about, confused. From where she was standing, she could see the light coming through some window, shadows of the window frame and of raindrops, stuck on the glass. She realized there was another storm raging outside. Or was it the same one? 

     She looked back at her right hand, clenching a doorknob of the door that had always been locked. The metal was flaming hot and there was a satisfying click when she turned the golden ball. 

     Opened! She was staring at a steep staircase. She thought to herself, she has gone through too much trouble to flee now. She made a friend in a Storm Ghost and he had gone, now. Wendy wanted to know where. And why. She gritted her teeth, put on a brave face, and climbed up. 

     She popped up in one very messy attic. She could tell apart silhouettes of towers of boxes, tables, chairs, wardrobes, trash. Another lighting would hammer down on the ground, closely followed by loud thunder. With her heart in her stomach, Wendy watched the rainfall behind the one and only window up there. The fear was back. And back was also the dim lava-red glow. She turned around to track its source. 

     “Oh, here you are! I lost you for a moment, there.” Ghost’s black gooey body stood among piles of unused, unwanted things. He managed to raise its stone hand, calling on Wendy to come to him. He moaned and purred at the same time. Walking towards Ghost, Wendy was considering adopting him as a loyal puppy. “See? My aunt was right. It’s all just a mess. What are we doing here? Are we here to play with things we aren’t allowed to play with? Because I can do that!”  

     Once she got close to him, he retracted a bit and his crater-like eyes focused on one particular object. Wendy followed Ghost’s gaze. He brought his hand closer to what he wanted Wendy to see—a board game, lit by his red glow. 

     “Huh. You know, I expected at least a pirate chest. Or a pyramid. Or Narnia. But that’s okay. You like games? Do you want to play a game now?”

     When Wendy spot the volcanoes and the ocean, the desert and the forest, she could not resist, but drag the enormous board away from another trash pile and plop it on the floor. She kneeled to take a better look at it. It looked like a huge 3D map of a country. An England, maybe? She didn’t really know what England looked like. Ghost, standing beside her, purred like the happiest not-at-all-cat cat. There didn’t seem to be any leaflet with rules and whatnot. Not that she would read it had it been there. She noticed how puzzle-like were the edges of the board.

     “I think... I think there should be more boards like this,” she said, looking at the small red circle pools embedded in golden rings which resembled tiles or boxes on regular board games. “Let me see.” She stood up. “You can help me look. You are a very good flashlight.” 

     But Ghost stepped closer to the board game lying on the floor. He glared at Wendy, purred and patted her shoulder. Wendy frowned. 

     “What?”

     Ghost smiled. Red flash rushed to make half-circle on his face. Then Ghost’s black gooey, already half-melted, turned into oil, tar, and lava. It swirled above the board and then was sucked into it like a tornado. Flushed like in a toilet. Wendy’s eyes widened, her heart was beating like crazy and her jaw dropped almost to her feet. All the fancy red tiles started to glow, the board started to shake. A beautiful voice suddenly filled Wendy’s ears with lovely melodies, muffling the storm completely. Wendy sucked in a breath. A lonely tear streamed down her cheek. The voice started to sing: 

     Brave warriors shall play this game. 

     Fight for their king, fight in his name. 

     They shall bring peace upon all four lands.      

     Win the heart of Belle, where Magic commences.

     Something was telling Wendy this wasn’t Monopoly.