Читать книгу Oracle in the Mist - Linda Maree Malcolm - Страница 9

Bobby hopped into the car to go to the homeschoolers’ meeting at the library with Daphne. She hadn’t been looking forward to going, even after Daphne had told her that it would be good to get out and meet other homeschoolers. But at least now she had something to do when she got there. She would look for books relating to the town’s history which would hopefully lead to more information about her grandmother’s life. She was bursting to tell someone about what she had found in the attic and was about to mention it to Daphne but then thought better of it. Her mother was very openminded but somehow Bobby couldn’t imagine Daphne allowing her keep the ball once she knew what it was capable of. No, she would just have to keep it to herself for now. One thing was for sure — these two items were linked somehow. She was determined to find out how the newspaper article related to the crystal ball.

She headed toward the historical section of the library where there was a book on display called “The history of our beautiful town, Queensborough”. She flicked back to 1930 and sure enough there was a page with the heading: “Enormous oak on the Brewsters’ property that the alien craft sighting took place at”.

She looked at the picture. It really was the biggest oak tree she had ever seen. There was also a story about how a local man witnessed several lights and what seemed like lightning strikes hovering above the tree late one spring night. Bobby took out the newspaper articles to compare the dates. They matched exactly.

“Pretty amazing tree,” someone said from behind her. She snapped the book closed, stuffed the article back into her pocket and spun around all at the same time. There before her stood a boy, about her own age, with thick, curly black hair, a perfect face and very sensible clothes. She didn’t answer him. She couldn’t actually and she wasn’t sure why. It was as if her tongue had been bitten by bees and was caught way back in her throat. It was usually Bobby who talked easily to strangers and could think of a clever thing to say on just about every subject and so she wondered at her own speechlessness. The more she noticed it, the more a blush began to creep up her face. Her lily white, freckled skin was turning a deep crimson red and she could feel her red, woolly hair standing up on end. Luckily for her, the boy must have sensed her unease and took the lead by introducing himself.

“David Game, at your service,” he said and bowed very low, crossing his arms in front of himself and dipping his head, in the most dramatic way. Now Bobby giggled and went to introduce herself. “Oomph” was what came out of her mouth instead of normal words. Being even more embarrassed now than before, she turned to put the book back on to the shelf, hoping he wouldn’t mistake her shyness for extreme rudeness. Luckily for her he wasn’t offended by her tongue tie at all. You see, he had been very well brought up and so proceeded to make conversation with her in a plain, matteroffact fashion.

“I hope you don’t think I creep up on people like that all the time but I couldn’t help noticing that you’re looking at my favourite book. I love that old oak out on the Brewsters’ property. It really is the most amazing tree and I guess it caught my attention because I also have a personal interest in it. My grandfather had a funny story to tell about that tree and I often go and just look at it. I have to tell you it really is the most remarkable and beautiful tree I have ever seen. You could live your whole life under it, sleep under it, work under it, celebrate under it and still not tire of it. That is how marvellous it is. It’s been a tourist attraction for some years now …”

“Really,” Bobby heard herself say and was relieved to have her voice back. She wondered at this boy’s ability to talk so fast without even taking a breath. Was this the real him or was he just showing off?

He drew a deep breath and then started again. “Oh yes,” he continued, “people come from all over Australia and all over the world in fact, just to look at it and sit under it. It’s a very special tree with a special kind of energy and it seems to want to tell you a story although I don’t know that anyone has ever actually heard it talk.” He paused to look at her. “Of course …” and he would have continued had she not spoken quite loudly over the top of him.

“Well, that sounds fascinating,” she said, glad that her confidence had returned and trying not to sound too sarcastic. She looked at the boy straight in the eye.

“Thank you for that information. And now I’m going that way,” she said, pointing toward the Teenager section. Would he take the hint on hearing her fake politeness? It was becoming clear to her that she would have to bring this conversation to an end or he would just keep babbling on until they turned grey or to stone or whatever came first.

“It’s not just the tree but the events that took place around the tree that I find most interesting,” he said and took a step in front of her to block her exit. How dare he do that, she thought to herself. Who did he think he was? She didn’t want to get to know him more and she certainly didn’t want to be sharing information with him about the tree or anything else for that matter. And he couldn’t force her either. She’d never met anyone so … so … boyish; yes that’s what it was. Her girlfriends would never behave this way. He stared into her eyes as if that would somehow hypnotise her but it only made her more determined to get away from him. Every time she took a step to the right or the left he would take the same step to block her. All the while she was fiddling with the article in her pocket. Clearly he was hoping to get some information from her. Her logic told her it would be silly to share her secret with someone she had just met but there was something about his eyes that seemed almost familiar, somehow. Still, she wasn’t used to anyone being in her personal space like this and she found it very annoying. They stood looking at one another.

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

The strange boy replied, “I’d like to get to know you more, if that’s okay. After all, isn’t that what homeschool group is about — meeting new people, making new friends? There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Bobby thought he sounded sincere enough but his eyes gave him away. He kept glancing at the jeans pocket that held the newspaper article that she was fiddling with.

“No, but I’ve got somewhere else I need to be,” Bobby lied and she hoped he wouldn’t ask where because she hadn’t made anything up yet. It wasn’t really a lie though, she thought to herself, there were lots of other things she could be doing right now, especially things that would help her to uncover the truth about her grandmother.

“Oh, I see,” he answered and Bobby was surprised to see that he looked quite crushed. This perplexed her even more. Why was he so determined to get to know her anyway? It was more than just wanting information from her, this she was sure of. She had never really known a boy before. She was an only child and all of her friends were girls. He certainly did seem a complex character. He looked away from her then and he had a distant kind of look on his face that she just couldn’t understand.

He turned away from her and slowly began to walk off. Something about his way of walking made her feel so utterly sorry for him. She suddenly felt awful for being so rude to someone who was just trying to make a new friend, for whatever reason.

“Would you like to read some newspaper articles I found in my grandmother’s attic that are over 50 years old?” she heard herself saying rather loudly. He turned to look at her and she noticed herself waving them about in the air and attracting the attention of the other people in the library. She stuffed them back into her pocket and walked to the ‘quiet reading’ section. David sat next to her on the couch and seemed very happy again.

Bobby was relieved for him but it did seem so strange to have a boy right next to her like this. She wondered what her mother and friends would make of it. Well, all of her friends were a long way away now in her old home town that they had just moved from. Bobby looked over to where the mothers were sitting. Daphne was there making quiet conversation with another mother. And then there was another woman, also with thick, curly black hair sitting by herself, knitting and presumably David’s mother. There were also some smaller children sitting and playing with blocks and Leggo. They all seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Bobby and David were sitting together.

“I was just about to tell you,” he said excitedly, “about a group of children that disappeared the same week of the alien craft sighting.”

“Yes, I already know about that actually,” Bobby said and pulled the newspaper article from her pocket. “I hope I’m not going to regret sharing this with you,” she said and hesitated before she offered it to him.

“Scouts’ honour and on my mother’s grave,” he made the scout’s hand sign and then crossed his heart, “when she dies that is. Obviously she’s not dead yet.” He pointed to her. “I promise not to tell a living soul,” he said earnestly. He took the newspaper and started to read.

“I don’t believe it!” he said surprised. “Where on earth did you get these? They must be about 80 years old, and yes look, they are!” He was looking at the date. “And just look at this … here’s all of the missing children. There’s old Henry Brewster and Ina Fairweather and well … I don’t recognise the others but they were all local children … and it was all completely hushed up afterwards; that’s the thing that baffles me. You know, this must be the only picture ever taken of those children. Noone ever talks about this. Apparently the whole town decided to just forget it ever happened so as not to upset the children any further. They all just wanted to get on with their lives, which you can understand I suppose …” Bobby could see that David’s mind was ticking over at a million miles an hour, as he read parts out and turned the articles over again and again.

“Yes, I know because Ina Fairweather is my grandmother. Her full name is Robina and her married name is Planks. She’s my mum’s mum and this has never been mentioned in our family.”

“Right. So where did you say you got this,” David suddenly remembered his earlier question, “if you don’t mind me asking, that is?”

“No, not at all. We now live in the house that Ina lived in virtually all her adult life. I was looking through some of her things to try and find some clue to her life and I found this … in the attic.” She only just stopped herself from spilling out the rest of the details … probably best not to talk of crystal balls and everything else just yet.

“Gosh and look at this!” Bobby was glad he had stopped her. “This is an article about my father’s sudden appearance as a newborn baby on the doorstep of the Brewsters’ house.” He went quiet for a moment, his eyes popping from his head.

“My brothers and I have talked about this for years,” he went on excitedly, “we know the Games adopted our father but we have always wanted to know where he came from. It’s impossible for us to really know about our heritage because of this one missing link.” He sat back on the couch with a thoughtful stare, ruffling the black curls on the top of his head quite roughly.

“If we could just find out how all of this is connected,” he said, almost as if to himself. “There’s got to be a connection between the tree, the missing children and the found baby … but what?” He stared at her with his intense black eyes.

“Yes, I know,” she said, looking away. “I have unanswered questions in my past too.”

“Hmmmmm,” he roused himself, “like what?”

“Well, my grandmother had a world of pain hidden behind that smile. She was happy enough on the outside anyway, but if you look carefully at her in the albums and photos scattered throughout her house you’ll see there’s always this sad look in her eyes. And she’s often looking to the spot beside her as if there’s someone missing. There’s another strange thing too. She gave birth to my mother when she was 50. We’re talking about the 1960s when people just didn’t do that kind of thing. Can you imagine? Daphne’s parents were in their early 60s when she was my age. Mum didn’t like growing up with elderly parents and as an only child. She left as soon as she finished high school and rarely came back home until now, that is. And of course there’s my father. Who on earth knows who that even was. It could have been an Italian waiter in Rome or a French artist in Paris or an English policeman in London …” Now it was David’s turn to be embarrassed. He swallowed loudly and said, “Hang on; go back a bit … who’s Daphne?”

“Oh, she’s my mum,” Bobby replied and he frowned at her. Then she realised what she had just said.

“Oh yes, I call her Daphne. I only call her Mum when we’re around older people. It’s too difficult for them to understand because they are a different generation to us.”

Bobby stopped talking. She suddenly realised that she had probably given away too many family secrets and to someone she had only just met, too. She remembered what the Social Etiquette book that she had borrowed from the library had said: “One should always remember that we do not air our dirty laundry in public. A lady is expert at keeping confidences and speaking only of light and simple subjects.” Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about all of that in this day and age, she thought to herself. Still, family secrets should be kept within family and not for the first time she regretted that she had no idea of these things. Luckily for her David had a way of making her feel relaxed and she felt she could trust him.

“So okay … how is it that you don’t know who your father is?” He was blinking rather heavily and Bobby could see that he was having trouble grasping her very unconventional lifestyle.

“Oh well, that’s because Daphne smoked a lot of pot and did all of those hippy things, you know, and well … she packed a lot of living into those 20 or so years after she left home and before she had me and so I guess she just doesn’t really remember.” Oh my God, Bobby thought to herself, I just did it again. I’ve just described my mother as if she was some kind of immoral floozy. She watched as David screwed up his face and then remembering himself he put on a phoney smile as if all of this was quite all right with him.

“Right,” was all he seemed able to say as he scratched his head and rubbed his eyes in a nervous fashion. For the first time since meeting, Bobby noticed David was speechless.

“She’s a really great person though. I’ll have to introduce you to her one day,” she added weakly, regretting how hideously honest she was with everyone and preparing herself for being judged on her mother’s lifestyle, yet again.

They sat in silence. It was a long, uncomfortable silence. She could almost hear the cogs turning over in his head. Bobby was about to leave. She asked for the article back. She wouldn’t sit with someone who would judge her mother without even really knowing her. Daphne was a wonderful person. Everyone who met her loved her instantly. She may have made some poor choices when she was younger but they seemed to only add to her great personality, not take away from it, or at least that was what Bobby thought anyway.

“You know, it’s just occurred to me that we have had a similar thing happen in our families,” David broke the silence almost in a whisper. “You see, my father was 67 when I was conceived which is quite old no matter what the year is. The thing is that he always looks so much younger than he actually is. Right now for example, he’s still practising medicine full time and going about the place like an energetic 35 year old. People are always commenting on it and asking him for his secret … it’s almost as if that whole incident back in the 1930s somehow put these relatives of ours into some kind of time warp and … well, who knows how it really happened? I would love to find out, wouldn’t you?” Bobby agreed with him, saying, “Yes, I am very curious and would also love to know more.”

“Well,” he said at last, “aren’t we a pair? Just think, the two of us meeting up like this, both of us having distant connections with this whole thing. What are the odds?” He smiled at her.

“I know,” she answered, “but Daphne says there is no such thing as a coincidence. Everything happens for a reason. It’s just a matter of figuring out what it is. I’ve also heard my mother say that people come into your life for a reason, a season or for life. And she uses big words like synchronicity and serendipity all the time. I think I know what she means …” Now it was her turn to stare at him.

“Yes … right, well, I hadn’t really actually thought of it that way … but it’s an unusual way of looking at things and, um …” David was stammering out his reply when right then they heard his mother call to him.

Then Bobby heard the librarian say to David’s mother, in a shrill voice: “Please say hello to the doctor for me, Mrs Game.”

“Shall do,” answered David’s mother and right at that moment Bobby realised that she had been talking to the local GP’s son. They stood up for David to leave.

“May I?” he asked, holding his arms out towards her. For a moment Bobby thought he was going to hug her and she drew back. For some reason he had that offended look on his face again. She wasn’t sure what he had meant, or what to do, so she offered him her hand for a good strong hand shake and said, “Yes you may,” and then shook his hand vigorously. He looked disappointed.

“Would you like to see the tree with me?” he asked, still whispering. “We could meet there tomorrow, say at about 9am?”

“That should be all right,” she said, mentally going through her schedule for the following day before realising that unravelling this mystery was now her most important priority. As she waved David goodbye, Bobby wondered at her total lack of feeling toward him when they had touched just now. She wasn’t attracted to him in ‘that kind of way’, which she was always hearing about but he did seem like a great person to know and she did have a special feeling that she couldn’t work out just yet. Her instincts told her though that in one way or another she would probably know him for a very long time, if not for life.