“Fuck!” Charlie screamed again, louder this time, despite feeling she was choking on the words. Without realising she’d even moved backwards, she thumped against the entry wall, the phone handset falling to the floor with a bang, the dial tone ringing out loudly. None of the noises startled the figure, which stared at her unphased. Charlie also couldn’t tear her gaze away.
It was definitely human-like. At least six feet tall, age hard to distinguish, and so pale. All of it was as white as the clothes it wore. Without understanding how or why, she felt she knew what this person — if it were in fact human — was thinking. Indifference to start with, though its interest was starting to pique. Like it had been travelling a long road and suddenly spotted something amusing along the way.
Charlie continued staring at the spot where the white creature had been, long after it had shimmered and faded away, its feelings of surprised interest still floating in the air. It was the phone’s dial tone that finally shook her loose. Quickly she bent down to retrieve the handset, fumbling as she thumped it back in place. “What the fuck?” She was panting as though she’d run a marathon — or was ready to run one now, away from this house. After striding to the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and downed it in one go.
“What the fuck?” she whispered again, rubbing her hands through her long red hair, trying to figure out what had just happened. She looked back to where she’d thought she’d seen the figure standing. Thought I saw…? Yes, Charlie rationalised. I imagined it, letting my thoughts get carried away with that howling wind again. The wind had picked up, and she jumped as something loose on the veranda banged loudly against the wall.
She grabbed her keys from the bowl by the front door, as well as her jacket and bag from the hook, and pushed her way back outside without even thinking. Charlie strode straight to her black Toyota RAV4, launched herself into the driver’s seat, pulled her door closed, and punched the automatic lock. “What the fuck…?”
As she bumped along the old country road, she began to rationalise again. In her little car — with the grassland passing by in a blur, dust kicking up, her acoustic rock playing softly under the general road noises — it was easy to dismiss her experience. She’d obviously been tired from the walk, emotions high from talking to Tess, and had startled at light coming through the window in a weird way. Maybe it had even been a painless migraine or a big eye floater. As she considered what she’d seen, she could almost picture the white creature’s face staring curiously at her. Did it have a face? Did it even have eyes? Why could she clearly remember a top hat and loafers but no facial features?
Shuddering, she turned the volume up on her stereo and focused on drawing in deep calm breaths. “I was startled by the light,” she muttered, a little breathless. Gritting her teeth, she said more steadily, “And I just needed to pop into town to grab some milk.”
Only fifteen minutes away from Greenfields now, Charlie saw on her car dash that her phone had picked up enough signal for her to make a phone call. Pressing the favourites button for “Mum,” she settled back into her car seat as the ring tone started. Just as she thought the call might ring out and was toying with the thought of calling her brother, Robert, instead, she heard the click as the phone connected.
“Hello?” her mum, Elsa, answered warily and confused.
“Hi, Ma.” Charlie smiled as she responded, overly sweet. “It’s Charlotte, your daughter.”
“Where have you been?!” Elsa immediately threw at her. Charlie started to answer, but Elsa cut her off. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”
“It’s been two days, Ma,” Charlie replied, her twinge of irritation a welcome distraction. “I’m just calling to check in, see how you’re travelling.”
“Your brother hasn’t seen me in months,” Elsa whined, her voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You’ve all abandoned me in here.” It was a bad day then, Charlie thought, feeling her stomach fall. Then feeling guilty for regretting making the call.
“Ma, you know Robert told me he was popping in to see you yesterday…”
“Don’t you lie to me, you fucker!” Elsa spat, suddenly no longer the mother she’d grown up with but something else. Charlie took a deep, steadying breath. It was a very bad day. Until Elsa’s dementia had taken hold, Charlie hadn’t even known her mum knew swear words existed. In Elsa’s current state, it wasn’t worth arguing with her.
“You’re right, Ma. I’ll make sure Robert visits you tomorrow, okay? I’m sorry we haven’t seen you.” Whether Robert was free tomorrow or not didn’t matter; Elsa wouldn’t remember this conversation. Charlie heard Elsa grumble on the other end, but at least she seemed to be calming. “How’s the weather? Can you see out your window?”
She pictured her mum turning in her large, patterned recliner in her room — at St Dymphna Nursing Home in South Sydney — to peer out her small window. The window was bordered by lace curtains, with Elsa’s old ceramics collection on the windowsill. An array of pale, rosy-cheeked children for the most part. Her mum was in a garden view room, with a fountain close enough that she could hear it bubbling during the day. Charlie could almost smell the distinct nursing home smell as she pictured it — that fetid combination of antiseptic and urine.
There was a pause on the other end. “It’s warm, Charlotte. Those bulbs have finally bloomed. I love daffodils.” Her mum started humming ‘Tutti Frutti’ by Here’s Little Richard — if she wasn’t swearing and raging, she’d be singing at the flowers; Charlie much preferred the latter. “I wish you hadn’t moved away,” Elsa said in a rare moment of clarity.
Taken aback a little, Charlie said, “What was that?” This was the first time her mum had remembered Charlie no longer lived in Sydney.
“I just don’t understand it. You had the loveliest apartment overlooking the harbour. Such a good job. I loved that apartment.”
“I did too, Ma.” Charlie smiled. “I have a lovely cottage now, though, surrounded by trees and grassland. It was just time for something different. Time to look after my —” She was about to say “my health” but thought better of it. “Myself.”
There was another pause before Elsa started humming again. The Beatles this time. In the lull, Charlie found her mind wandering back to her living room. She wanted to talk to her mum about it; she always wanted to talk with her mum about everything. Before her dad had passed away four years ago, when things had really started to go downhill for Elsa, Charlie had talked to her about everything. There was never any judgment, no talking down to her about her mental stress, just a calm and understanding ear.
“Ma…” Charlie started. “Do you think —”
“They’re stealing from me,” Elsa suddenly said firmly. “They stole my shoes.”
“They might have moved them to the cupb —”
“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you cunt!”
By the time Charlie reached Greenfields, she’d learnt two new swear words, which was impressive considering Tess swore frequently in English, French, and German. She should have hung up — it wasn’t like her mother would remember — but she could never bring herself to do that. To leave the conversation on such a low note, and Elsa so distressed. At least Charlie had also been well and truly distracted from the excitement of earlier in the day. Exhausted from the conversation, she’d gone into automatic mode. She’d clipped her medical alert bracelet on, put a respirator mask over her face, pulled on her gloves, and done a decent but quick, grocery shop. Normally she’d preorder from the friendly grocer, so she’d enjoyed the brief jaunt through the aisles — a memory of normality — and absolutely dreaded every moment she’d turned a blind corner.
As her RAV4 made its way up her long, narrow driveway towards her cottage, Charlie felt the excitement of the day settle as weariness deep in her bones. On the drive back, the wind had picked up even further, bringing dark, low clouds and slanting icy rain. The unpredictability of spring: warmth and sunshine in the morning, followed by a surprise cold turn in the afternoon. As Charlie parked the car, a flash of lightning lit up the sky behind her. Thunder followed seconds later, an echoing rumble she felt deep in her sternum. “Damn it,” she muttered, reaching behind her for her two shopping bags.
Just as she’d gotten her bags together, the rain started to fall again with gusto. “Argh,” she grizzled as she got stuck behind the wheel of her car, overloaded with her things, the rain pelting her face as soon as she nudged the door open. By the time she fell against the front door, she was soaked, her hair matted to the side of her face. She didn’t bother to bring the bags all the way to the kitchen, instead dropping them inside the entryway.
Even with her exhaustion, and the distractions the afternoon had brought, as soon as Charlie was inside her house, the memory of the white figure came flooding back. Her eyes were drawn to the spot where the creature had stood. Just as her eyes fell there, a flash of lightning lit up the dark room. This time, the lightning was immediately followed by a crash of thunder that crescendoed until the ceiling shook. In almost movie-like timing, the lightning illuminated a perfect set of loafered footprints on the living room floor.