Storm Friends

“Come along Annie, we’ve got to go watch from the window.   You like to watch from the window, don’t you?  We can see all the way across to the woods from here.  We should go for a walk in the woods tomorrow, if it’s a nice day.  Wouldn’t you like that?  Maybe we could see some nice people there.  We could see Mr Badger and Mr Fox, and all the starlings.  If we are very lucky, and we can stay out late, we might be able to see Mr Owl.  That would be good, because he knows lots of things about the woods and the people who live there.  He could maybe tell me how to find my friends who live in the woods.   I haven’t seen them for a while, but they were ever so nice. They talked to me about so many things.  They let me do the things I wanted, they let me run around, and swim in the lake and things.  They told me I was pretty, like I used to be – but I can still be pretty, out there in the woods, and I can still run.  I could be there Annie, and you could come with me, and you would be pretty again too, and everybody would be nice to us.  Even the grumpy old one, who didn’t like me at first.   I told you about him before, didn’t I?  He thought it was a bad thing, me going there, said I should go back to where I belonged.  Yes he did.  And he shouted at the others for rescuing me and bringing me there.  They argued so much!  It made me feel so sad, because it was so nice there.  But he let me stay for a while, until it was safe for me to come home.  The others took me back, and they were sad, because it hurt when I got home, and it was making me cry.  But, I did see them again, I did.  Sometimes I can go back there, sometimes, I can find them in the woods and play with them for a while.  Sometimes I only see Mr Badger.   He reminds me of the old man, because he is grumpy sometimes, and doesn’t always want to tell me things, but sometimes, he will lead me to my friends.  I do hope I can go see them again soon.  There is such a nice pond there, and it is always clean and all the pebbles are white.  One time I was there, we went swimming and…”

From the edge of the woodland, a pair of eyes watched.   The heavy grey clouds and leaden sky made the shape of the building seem even more oppressive than normal.  The eyes searched, and found, staring out of the window, a face, framed by untidy, thin, dark hair.  It seemed to be talking excitedly to something beside it, pressed against the glass.  A small, round shape, framed by a red fringe.  The eyes looked up at the clouds again.  Soon.  A shape dropped silently from the branches and swooped off through the heat-laden air.

Under another sky, a young man sat on a rock, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun, letting the breeze blow through his hair.  Windseeker, he was known as here, for reasons that were still unclear to him.  His hand rested affectionately on the head of a large she-wolf lying on the rock beside him.  Suddenly, the wolf sat up, ears pricked, watching something moving in the nearby trees.  The young man started.

“What is it?  What can you see?”  He asked.  The wolf jumped down from the rock and started towards the trees, glancing over shoulder as if to say, come on then. Windseeker got up and followed her.  Once in the shade of the trees, he made out the shape of an owl, perched on a branch.  As he approached, it dropped away, flying deeper into the woods.  He looked at his wolf companion enquiringly.  The wolf wagged her tail and trotted after the owl, leaving him little option but to follow.  “Lay on Macduff,” he muttered, under his breath.   Deeper into the woods, he heard voices, an argument, it seemed.   They came to the edge of another clearing, where a group of people seemed to be arguing about something or someone.  The wolf paused at the edge of the trees and sat down, apparently waiting.  The man paused also, and watched as the owl fluttered into the clearing and onto a low branch near the group.  There was a brief, low conversation, then the old man, who seemed to be one of the main protagonists of the group, looked over to where the young man lurked in the shadows.

“Come out then, come on out,” he called in a testy voice, “don’t keep us all waiting.”  He looked up at the owl as Windseeker approached, as if to say “Are you sure?”  The others looked at him curiously, but with varying expressions of mild approval.  There was a certain amount of hurried whispering and some giggling, which earned the culprits a reproving stare from the old man.  “Well, traveller, what is your name?”

“They call me Windseeker here, sir,” he answered.  Two of the younger women in the party giggled again.  The old man chose to ignore them, instead, looking up at the owl, which appeared to nod slightly.  He gestured for Windseeker to sit down.  The two women immediately made a space for him between them, patting the ground as an invitation.  “Thank you,” he said, taking the space offered.  Both girls immediately put their arms around his back and leaned against him comfortably.  He felt mildly embarrassed by this, being naturally shy, and not at all used to such attention, at least back at home.  He looked up at the old man, who seemed to be tapping an impatient foot.  “Well?”  He asked.   The old man sighed and looked again at the owl.

“Well, young man,” he said, gruffly. “It seems that we have a majority verdict here.  And who am I to argue with the wisdom of an owl.”  This last was said with a mite of sarcasm.  The owl trilled briefly at him.  “Yes, I know,” replied the man, and then turned back to Windseeker.  “Anyway, despite my better judgement, it seems that we have a job for you.”

-oOo-

“Look Annie, look at that!  It’s raining.  Look at those big clouds.  The ones shaped like an anvil.  Those are thunderclouds they are.  There’s going to be a storm!  A big storm!  We might see my friends again tonight.  It was very stormy when I met them first.  Yes, it was. We were out walking and then it started to get dark, and it started to rain.  You must remember, we were out together.  You were so frightened because it was dark and wanted to go home, and I cuddled you and told you not to be afraid.  Yes, it was very stormy when they came.  So maybe they will come again tonight, then we can see them again.”

Nurse Pettifer looked through the door at the frail figure sitting in front of the window, chattering excitedly to the charred remains of a red-haired rag-doll she held up to the glass with a thin, badly scarred arm.   She took the tray, with its bowl of warm soup and a slice of soft bread and placed it on the table by the window.  “Dinner time Jenny,” she said softly, then repeated it louder.  “Time for dinner and for your medicine.”  The figure at the window appeared not to have heard.  The nurse moved closer, placing her hand on Jenny’s shoulder.  “Come along Jenny, you must have your tea and your medicine.”  Jenny looked round, her annoyed expression distorted by the scar tissue down one side of her face.

“Don’t want any tea; I want to see my friends” she said, and then turned back to the window, as if that settled the matter.  The nurse tried again, patiently.  Jenny turned and scowled.  “I don’t want to, I wanna see my friends, don’t wanna take medicine, I wanna see my friends, they will come to me, they always do.  I gotta see them today.  Not gonna take any medicine.”  She started to flail around with her other hand, gasping slightly for breath, a tear trickling from her good eye.  The nurse sighed and backed away, moving out to the corridor, where she buzzed for the doctor.

Martin exhaled, letting his breathing bring him back, as he slowly became aware of the room around him again, feeling slightly disoriented as usual.  The air felt hot and heavy and filled with tension.   This did not help his mood of apprehension.  “A job for you,” they had said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.  Well, maybe it was for them, in their world.  He thought of some of his patients, blank, lack-lustre eyes, dribbling mouths, slack jaws; “just hunks of meat,” as one of his colleagues referred to them.  Martin disliked the term, but it was appropriate.  He shook himself and got up from the floor.  As he did so, something fell from his lap, a glistening white pebble.  He looked at it in surprise.  The old man had given him a token, but he had not expected to find it here.   With a quiet sigh, he slipped it into his pocket, along with a few other items from the roll of cloth in front of him.

Nurse Pettifer looked up and grinned as Martin came through the doors from the locker room.  “You look like the proverbial drowned rat,” she said, cheerfully.  ‘”Is it bad out?” He grimaced.

“You could say that,” he replied, “I hope you brought your water wings with you.”  They both looked up as the lights flickered, then a few seconds later, listened to the rumble of thunder from outside.  He picked up the clipboard and glanced through it.  “Anything special I should know?”  The nurse started gathering her things.

“Not a lot, Doctor asked if you could keep an eye on Jenny.  She got a little over-excited at tea-time and he had to give her an extra 25mg.  He left another dose for you, just in case.”  She gestured at the drugs cupboard.  Martin cursed silently.  He nodded.

“Not surprising,” he said, “considering the weather.”

“Why?” Asked the nurse.

“That’s how she got burned,” explained Martin.  “She was taking her dolly for a walk in the woods and got caught in a storm.   Apparently her parents never told her about staying away from trees, and she was standing next to one when it got struck by lightning, badly burned.  It was only later they realised that it had traumatised her mind too.”

“But I don’t understand,” asked the nurse, “Why isn’t she afraid?”  Martin shook his head.

“She seems to have blanked it all out,” he replied. “All she remembers is the friends she always talks about, coming to look after her.  Now, whenever there is a storm, she expects them to come again.”  He frowned. And nobody lets her go see them, he added silently in his head.  “Is she settled now?”  The nurse nodded.

“Yes.  She did ask if you were going to be on duty, but she seemed to be asleep when I looked last.”  She picked up her bag and made her way towards the exit. “See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” said Martin, as he busied himself with signing in and checking the notes.  “See you.”  He dealt with the usual administrative stuff, before going on his rounds, saving Jenny’s room until last.  He felt anxious as he approached, almost putting it off, still agonising with indecision.  He tip-toed softly over to the end of her bed, lifting the clipboard to look at the notes.  The prognosis was not good:  respiratory and cardiac functions in decline, nerves deteriorating.  He looked at the frail, distorted figure in the bed, the burned remains of a rag doll clasped to her chest.  Her eyelids flickered.

“Martin?”  She asked, her voice tremulous but clear and quiet.  He started, not expecting her to be awake.

“Yes, Jenny,” he replied, gently, as he moved to the side of her bed, taking her hand.  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”  Jenny smiled her lop-sided smile at him.

“I should be yes, but I was too clever for them.”  She opened her other hand to reveal a soggy looking pill.  “I spat it out while nurse wasn’t looking.  I knew you would be here tonight, I knew you would understand, I have to see my friends.  You will help me, won’t you?”  A tear trickled out of her eye.  Martin felt a heaviness in his stomach and a lump in his throat.  He glanced over at the clipboard – no comfort there.  He looked back at Jenny’s pleading face.  There was something in the eyes, maybe she knew it too.  “Please!” She added.  Martin tried hard to smile as he stroked the sparse hair that struggled to grow on the scar tissue on her head.

“I can help, if that is really what you want.  Are you really sure?”  He asked.  She nodded.

“We’re sure, aren’t we Annie.” She said, bringing the doll up closer to her face.  Martin swallowed and reached into his pocket, bringing out the white pebble.  Her eyes widened as he showed it too her, pressing it into her other hand.  “I knew you could help,” she said, excitedly, “I knew you believed in my friends too.  And now you are going to help me go to them?”  Martin hesitated for a moment – “It is a step on your own journey,” wolf had said to him before he left her, “One you must decide to take when you are ready.”   He looked around at the cracked and peeling walls, with their old cream coloured paint.  He thought of a woodland glade, of a grumpy, but caring old man, and the laughing girls.  He thought of the pains he had gone through in his own journeying, of all the things he had learned, of all the difficult steps he had made and realised he had no choice.  He leaned over and kissed Jenny on the forehead.

“Yes, Jenny, I will help, your friends asked me to help you; it is time.”  The weight fell from him as he saw her smile happily, and it seemed that the beauty she must once have had, shone through the scars.  He reached into his pocket, bringing out a small smudging stick and his rattle.  “I will help you on the journey to find them.”

-oOo-

The young man leaned against the tree on a hillside, looking down towards a glistening lake.   There was something different about him, something about the eyes that made him seem older, more settled.  There was a vague half-smile on his face as he watched the distant figures running along the pale lake-shore, watched by some older figures sitting on rocks nearby.  The wolf padded up and sat on her haunches beside him.  Automatically, he reached out to scratch her behind the ears.  “Yes, I know,” he said.  “It was the right thing to do, but it seemed so hard at the time.”  He shrugged.  “She was gone by the morning, and her body died a week later, still smiling.”  The wolf looked up at him and seemed to nod.  Windseeker nodded back and scrambled to his feet, setting off down the hill.  As he did so, he patted something in his pocket, something soft, with just a red woollen fringe showing.  “Come on,” he said, beckoning to the wolf, “we’ve got work to do.”

© 2013 Ian Walden