April

Gab was dreaming about building a brilliant treehouse. Suddenly, she woke to a half-scream. She was instantly on alert, ears pricked in the dark night. What was it? Maybe just a moody koala? They did have an awful sound. She hadn’t caught enough of the sound with her conscious mind to really trust her sense of judgement. She didn’t want to over-react … but neither did she want to under-react if something was seriously wrong.

Then, Gab heard a strange bang-bang-bang from Gina’s room. Her heart began pounding against her tight chest. She didn’t want to know what was happening, but how could she pretend not to have heard?

“Mum?” she called out timidly. “Mum? Are you okay?” No answer. What if someone had broken in? It was just her and Jack and Gina in the house; Tony was up the hill, too far away to be of instant help. She could phone him … but that would mean making noise. Perhaps she should tiptoe quietly to Gina’s room first and find out what was going on without being seen.

There wasn’t far to go. Gab tiptoed noiselessly, holding her breath, until she reached her mother’s door. It was slightly ajar. Gab realised her plan wasn’t really a good one; there was no way she could open the door further without being seen. She should have grabbed a weapon first! But she was too far gone now. So she pushed the door ever so gently, hoping to goodness things were alright.

It was only Gina in the room after all. She stood at her window in the moonlight, her silhouette framed in its reflected rays, her hair dishevelled, her floral silk kimono awry.

“Are you alright, Mum?”

“Alright? Why would I be alright?” her mother snarled. Then she moaned an awful moan. “Hopeless! It’s all hopeless! I may as well be dead!”

Gab’s stomach dropped. Her mum wasn’t a go-getter, but she had never been this direct before.

“What’s hopeless, Mum?” asked Gab, coming in and sitting on the bed to steady herself. She still couldn’t make sense of the situation. “Don’t say that.”

Gina was holding her head in her hands.

“I can’t do it Gab! I can’t! It’s not safe here.” She looked suddenly at her daughter, her face tear-streaked and desperate. “I woke up and sensed a strong presence of evil in here, Gab,” she whispered hoarsely. “Evil is present, and I can feel its influence on me.”

“What do you mean, Mum?” cried Gab in fright. “Did you hear something? Is there someone around the house?”

“Not someone, Gabrielle,” whispered her mother. “Something”.

Gab felt like her body was turning inside-out. Her heart had squeezed down so tightly there was none of it left; her mother was a conduit of terror. Was Gina thinking straight? Should Gab trust her? Were they in danger? Gab couldn’t make sense of any of it; this was beyond Gina’s usual fetishes and eccentricities.

“What should I do, Mum?” choked Gab, as the hysteria caught hold of her.

“Wake Jack,” said Gina. “We’ve got to get out.”

So Gab, under the influence of her mother’s persuasive illusions, woke her brother.

“Jack, wake up!” she whispered urgently.

Jack didn’t stir, and Gab’s terror compounded.

“Jack? Jack?!”

“Whaaaat?” he groaned. “Is it time to get up yet?”

“No … I mean, yes. Come on Jack, get up!”

“Why?”

“Mum says we’re in danger!” Suddenly Jack was up.

“Why, Gab?” he asked. “Where?” Then he started to cry. “I’m scared!”

Gab helped him put on a top and a pair of shorts.

“It’s okay, Jack,” said Gab, holding her brother close and making a Herculean effort to steel herself against her terror so that she could lie for her brother’s sake. She guided him into Gina’s room. Gina was lying on the bed now. Why is she lying on the bed? wondered Gab. Didn’t they have to leave?

“Mum?” whispered Gab. “Jack’s here. What do we do now?”

“What do you mean?” her mum barked.

“You said we were in danger.”

“Oh, that!” Gina waved her hand as though she were swatting a fly. Gab frowned. Nothing about this night was making sense.

“Mum? Jack’s here. We’re ready. What should we do?”

“Just go back to bed,” said Gina. Gab couldn’t read the tone of her voice. Never in Gab’s life had her mind had to work so hard at piecing together a situation.

“But Mum …”

“GO. BACK. TO. BED!” Gina yelled.

Gab had no choice. Things had flipped … again. But there was no way she was going back into her room alone. She wasn’t leaving Jack alone either. Gab led him back to his bed and snuggled in next to him, fitting in the small space between his nimble body and the wall. She held him close.

“What happened?” asked Jack.

“Oh, must have been a false alarm, mate,” said Gab, steadying her voice. “Mum must’ve got a fright but then realised it was nothing. Maybe she just had a bad dream.”

“Oh, phew,” said Jack. “That was scary.” Gab agreed with the entirety of her being, but didn’t show it.

“It’s okay Jack, go back to sleep.”

“Gab? I’m still a bit scared. Can you tell me a story?” How the hell was Gab meant to manage this? There was nothing there, her mind was blank. So she opened her mouth and began with some random words.

“Once upon a time, there was a wombat who lived down at the creek bed … ”

Beginning was the hardest part; after she had begun, the story began to tell itself, carrying her along with it as if it were being told to her as much she was telling it. Thankfully, it didn’t take Jack long to fall back to sleep. He was good like that. But Gab didn’t doze off for hours, and then, the sleep only came in disrupted fits, ending suddenly with the echoes of a disrupted scream. What had happened? She didn’t know.