67

Ancora Marta


Windswept

Windswept, a short story

 

This story starts, as many do, on a Thursday in Spring, the flowers just starting to bloom brightly as the approaching sun tickles them with its rays, during a particularly dreary PE lesson.  Robin Preston stared downcast over the volleyball net, she stared at the clock willing its hands to move faster even squinting her eyes to enforce her gaze. Tic toc, tic toc, tic toc…the ceaseless ticking of the seconds hand droned on and on. Two thirty, still one hour to go. More staring, more ticking, but what Robin was not noticing was that a ball, patched up and worn with the many ruthless games it had been subjected to was hurtling towards her from the sky. She only remotely heard the screams of her name through the silence clouding her head, “Robin!”, “Be careful!”, “Come on Robin catch it!”. The sudden whistling of air being sliced by something distanced her even further from the cries of her classmates. In the last possible millisecond, Robin realized what was happening slowly and fearfully tilting her face upwards to see the unidentified object race towards her at an alarming speed. The last thing she saw before the impact were the unusual clouds, the colour of the dark thick chimney smoke that came out of the houses in her village creep around the sun, engulfing its golden shape. Then suddenly, with no time to react it struck her straight in the head. Thump, Robin Preston’s vision suddenly went dark.

 

“Robin?”, “Robin?”, “Robin!”, a kind voice projected with intention. She recognised it. Shuffling footsteps, light and quick. Her eyelids felt heavy yet she forced them open anyways. A little lady, almost invisibly smothered in her plaid shawl almost sprinted towards her. “Oh, Robin I was so worried!”, “The school called me and told me you’d been hit and I feared the worst!”. “By a volley ball grandma.”. Robin responded chuckling as the elderly woman hugged her tight. “Alright I understand,”, “This genius here neglected to say that!”. She pointed a crooked finger at the middle-aged nurse promptly playing candy crush on her phone. The loud swiping and beeping of the game made it impossible to hear Robin’s grandmother’s outraged accusations. “No matter darling, let’s take you home now.”, The elderly woman smiled and took Robin’s hand. “But grandma! What about her?”, Robin pointed to the nurse who was still invested in the coloured universe of candy crush and oblivious to the fact that a child who had just suffered a concussion was about to exit only supervised by a little old lady with no medical experience. “Oh no don’t worry about her dear you are in much better hands with me!”. So, Robin pushed herself off the bed and waved cheerfully at the distracted staff member before skipping happily outside with her grandmother. The time was now three thirty, she had successfully skipped the PE lesson, and knowing her grandmother, was likely on her way to a steaming lemon pie and at least three comfortable hours of television on the couch to recover.

 

The winding path from the school to the cottage at the edge of the forest where they lived seemed unusually long to Robin today. “Grandma, are we taking a longer route today?”, she inquired. “No Robin we are not, we are nearly there now do not worry.”. After more minutes of ceaseless walking, Robin remarked that they were in fact not nearly there. The rolling hills before them stretched on vastly with no seeming end in sight. Clouds, the colour of dark chimney smoke gathered overhead and she couldn’t help but note their familiarity. Robin wondered where she had seen them before but dismissed in the face of the much more pressing issue of the never-ending path. More scuffling along the dirt path as the clouds began to draw ever closer. “Grandma what are those clouds?”, Robin asked breaking the silence. “I don’t know darling but we’ll be home before a storm even begins.”, Grandma replied but as she said this a particularly strong gust of wind sliced at the air near them. “Oh, whatever could this be?”, Grandma sighed quietly drawing her shawl closer around herself. The day had been warm and sunny as most Thursdays in Spring tend to be, and this was completely out of character for the small rural village with its stable seasons that they lived in. The gust of wind was followed by others and Grandma struggled to hold herself up against its strength. “Here dear take this.”, Grandma fished something out of her comically large handbag. A red knitted scarf, by the look of it. Robin extended her hand to take it. “Hold on darling.”, replied Grandma extracting what seemed like kilometres of crimson knitted fabric. The wind was relentless now but Grandma seemed too entranced in extracting all of her proudly knitted scarf from the handbag to notice. The gusts of wind grew ever stronger, so much so that Robin could no longer resist them and in one instant she felt her feet being lifted off the floor. Oh no…she thought. “Grandma?”, she said, panic slowly filling her voice. “Nearly done dear, we must have you warm with this dreadful breeze!”, Grandma was pulling out yet more fabric somehow. “Grandma!”, this time Robin’s scream managed to divert the elderly woman’s attention. Robin was flying now. Her legs flailing wildly in the air as the wind swept her upwards with each gust. “Oh, Robin dear it appears that you’re flying!”, Grandma laughed brightly, somehow seeming amused by the imminent airborne departure of her grand-daughter. Her right hand was still searching in her handbag for the other end of the scarf. “Ah yes I found it!”, she yelled, as the wind was so strong in Robin’s ears that it began to muffle her voice. “Aaaaah.”, Robin screamed as she was being pushed even more upwards. “Here Robin take this!”, Grandma threw the end of the red scarf and Robin caught it at the last second before being catapulted beyond the clouds.

 

“Wheeee!”, Robin heard her Grandma’s voice drawing ever closer as she too was hoisted up by the wind. Before long, Robin and Grandma were hovering over what seemed to be like an immense field of white cotton candy with a vast expanse of bright blue over their heads. “Grandma we’re flying!”, Robin exclaimed. “I know darling now tie the scarf around your waist so we don’t get lost. I will do the same.”. Robin did so and they proceeded to hover propelled by the wind, the houses and buildings of the village small specks kilometres below them. “Grandma?”, Robin questioned, “Yes dear?”, Grandma replied brightly, “Where are we going?” Robin continued. “I don’t know darling, wherever the wind takes us would be my guess!”. They both laughed brightly as a sparrow joined their flight and began twirling in loops with Robin. After what seemed like hours of flight, they both began losing altitude, slowly almost lazily they drifted down.

 

Their feet touched the ground on a dirt path that seemed almost identical to the one in their own village, except this one was covered in sparkling flecks of thick snow. “Where are we Grandma?”, Robin asked curiously. There was no response from the elderly woman standing at her side. Her face was twisted in surprise and it looked almost younger, with some of the creases that years of smiling had marked around her eyes having seemingly disappeared. Her white hair was also shot with streaks of copper and her eyes seemed wider and brighter somehow. “I know this place…”, her voice had lost some of its creaky undertones too and before she knew it, Grandma was sprinting down the snowy dirt path. Sprinting?! , Robin thought, Grandma wasn’t exactly known for her speed but was now covering several metres every second. Robin giggled and began to race after her. They arrived at the end of the path quiet quickly and were greeted by a white picket fence surrounding a small brick cottage. Grandma jumped the fence with ease, her laced up brown boots landing gracefully in the dirt beyond its white border. Robin struggled to climb over it and fell face-first in the dirt, the snow crystals embedded in it biting at her face. “Grandma help me…”. She muttered, muffled by the mouthfuls of snow and earth that were now in her mouth and nose and caking her hair. Grandma did not respond. “Oh gosh.”. Robin peeled her face off the ground and walked, following Grandma’s familiar footprints to a small wrought iron backdoor. It was already ajar but Robin pushed its polished forest green surface slightly more. Its hinges creaked merrily and just as she was thinking that this was probably illegal as they were technically breaking and entering, a familiar divine scent of pie invaded her nostrils mingled with the warmth of a crackling fire. She breathed it in and sighed trying to follow it forgetting all about their possible crime. Robin’s mouth watered and her stomach grumbled as she walked down a hallway lit only with the blinking orange light of graceful candles in brass candle-holders. Pictures adorned its walls and many of them depicted a girl who looked to be about twelve years old with a large grin and copper hair. Robin’s face flashed with recognition. Grandma! She thought. Why were Grandma’s pictures hanging in this house? Why was she so young in all of them? Questions and more questions flashed in Robin’s mind. She finally arrived at an intersection in the hallway, one end leading to a lit doorway where the smell of pie seemed to be growing ever stronger, and one where wooden stairs seemed to be swallowed up by darkness the further up they went. Robin followed the scent of course and heard tinkling laughter and warmth trickle out into the hallway. She peeked into the room and saw her Grandma now newly twelve but with the same unmistakable smile digging into a large meal talking to two grinning adults, one with the same copper hair, and four young children also seated around the table. “Mother, there is someone in the doorway!”, a boy, who could not have been older than six yelled happily. The copper-haired woman snapped her neck towards Robin. Oh no I’ve been spotted…Robin froze before politely curling her lips into a smile. “Hello! And who might you be?”. Robin stared mutely at her unable to formulate any words in her defence. “She’s a friend. Her name is Robin.”. She sighed in relief as Grandma came promptly to her rescue. “Good evening Robin nice to meet you!”, everyone replied in a cheerful chorus.

“Can Robin eat supper with us tonight?”, Grandma looked expectantly at the two adults that could only be her parents and they nodded their heads in approval, “Of course she can! I hope she likes lemon pie because that is what we are having for dessert and there is a lot…”, she paused, “And I mean a lot, of it.”. Robin grinned at her great-grandmother’s smiling face and glancing at her grandmother, replied, “It’s my favourite.”.

 

Robin was stunned, she sipped her soup, its heat scalding her mouth but the delicious blend of herbs helping her slurp spoon-full after the next. She stared still amazed at her Grandma who was now around her own age as she conversed brightly with her family. She seemed filled with joy, a bright glint adorning her eyes. Robin smiled at seeing her this way. Her grandmother was always full of laughter and happiness ever since she could remember but here, she seemed to be where she belonged. Robin reflected that this must have been where she had learned to make her delicious lemon pies. She was equally curious to meet her great-grandparents who had passed away years before Robin was born, however she found herself unable to join into the conversation and just sat in stunned silence taking in the scene before her not disturbing Grandma. She sensed that this was special for her, getting to reunite with her family once again and she did not want to be the one to shatter her illusion. Robin thought to herself, this cannot be real…we must both be dreaming… but the waves of warmth radiating onto her skin from the hearth and the strong steel of the cutlery in her hands told her otherwise. Surely if this wasn’t real, she wouldn’t have been able to feel it. Yes, she assured herself that this was in fact, very much real. “So, Robin, where do you know our Elizabeth from?”, her great-grandfather spoke to her, “Oh we met each other at school.”, Robin replied brightly between spoon-fools of soup. “Yes we sit next to each other in geometry and I asked her if she wanted to come to eat supper with us tonight. My apologies for forgetting to tell you.”, Grandma continued our fictitious story, lying as easily as breathing. Suddenly a rapping noise, knuckles on a window, a pale face peeking inwards through the glass. Grandma peered curiously at it and a young boy with piercing blue eyes stared back. His eyes framed by the wooden frame. Robin recognized them too, she had seen the same eyes sparkling brightly behind a large white beard cloaking half of a weathered face. Grandma’s expression flashed with the same recognition. “Mother, James is outside, may I go bid him good evening and take Robin with me?”, Grandma enquired. “Yes of course you may.”, “Just come back before your soup gets cold.”. At that reply, Grandma stood up and rushed to me to take my hand and pull me back out into the hallway. As she dragged me by the arm I inquired, “Grandma what is going on!”, she paused only to glance back at me and reply, “It appears we have gone back nearly seventy years darling.”. “Yes grandma I know! But how?!”, Robin pressed onwards. “I do not know how but we must go say hello to your grandfather! Come on!”. She beamed her face growing flushed from her relentless race. What Grandma was ignoring however, was the wind whipping in the distance and howling ever louder as if slowly creeping back to them.

 

The wrought iron of the back door greeted them once again as they stumbled through the doorway. “James!”, Grandma yelled, “Elizabeth! Hello!”. Robin’s arm had been freed by the grip that the young girl had had on it now and she was free to observe the fairy tale scene that was unfolding before her. They covered the last steps towards each other in slow motion, the unmistakeable howling of the wind the only noise that could be heard despite the crunching of the snow under their boots and Grandma’s quick breathing. Robin could sense that they did not have much time. The dark clouds an omen of what was to come as they mingled with the dark, ashy smoke of the chimney. Two figures hugged each other, the soft white flakes swirling gently around them. Robin felt tears in her eyes and began making her own path towards them. She had missed grandpa desperately since he had passed away a few months before and even worse than her, Grandma seemed to have lost the bright spark that had always accessorized her emerald eyes. Robin’s face was now lined with salty rivulets as she knew in one small corner of her mind that this was in a way, an opportunity for her beloved Grandma to have the goodbye she never had the chance to say. She had wished for that opportunity too and she felt it growing ever nearer as she drew closer to them. Finally, she joined them in their embrace and muttered, “I missed you grandpa.”, burying her face in the boy’s jacket, except he wasn’t a boy anymore… The figure she was hugging was now tall and familiar with the same scent of Lemon and smoke that had always followed him and Grandma. The lines on her face also snaked themselves back in place and as her form became more hunched, grey and white flecks began to colour her hair. “Oh Robin I missed you too. I missed you both.”. He leaned down and pressed both Grandma and Robin closer.

 

They all stood like this for an instant that felt like an eternity, the droning of the wind increasing to a roar as the time passed. Grandpa suddenly broke away, “You two have to go now.”. He beamed at both of them and tousled Robin’s hair. Taking both of their hands in his, he led them back up the dirt path and to the white picket fence. Grandma stopped abruptly. “No James we are not leaving.”, she stopped for a moment and fished out the red scarf again. “Not without you.”. Her tone was determined and even but just as she was tying it firmly around his waist, Grandpa gently held up a hand to stop her. “No Elizabeth I can’t come with you.”. The wind was beginning to lift both of us up now although it seemed to have no effect on Grandpa. “Whatever do you mean?”, Grandma sounded panicked. “You know I can’t. The wind won’t lift me or anything that belongs here up.”. “No, no, that can’t be.”, “We’ll tie you to us.”, “We have to bring you back!”. The red fabric didn’t seem to be able to tie around his waist and it kept being pulled off by the strong whipping wind. “You can’t.”. He stopped Grandma and took the scarf from her stunned hands tying it firmly around Robin and the elderly woman. The wind was beginning to grow too strong now. Robin felt her feet lift off the ground. Despite this, Grandma still attempted to keep herself anchored to the ground. But to no avail. “Goodbye Elizabeth. Goodbye Robin!”. Grandpa smiled sadly. At that moment Grandma understood and shouted “Goodbye!” over the howling of the gusts. Robin echoed her response and before they knew it, they were above the clouds again.

 

The wind deposited them exactly where they had left. Robin stared ahead stunned and was now able to see their house peeking beyond a not too far away hill. Grandma turned around and hugged her tightly. Robin felt the tears streaming down her face and patted Grandma on the back. After a moment of silence, Grandma broke away from the hug and spoke solemnly. “I think I am at peace now.”. A genuine smile coloured her features and after wiping away the last droplets on her face, she took Robin’s hand and led her home down the dirt path. “How does a lemon pie sound?”, she asked Robin who could already smell their delicious aroma. She grinned at her grandmother and replied contently, “It’s my favourite.”.




67: 16:22 Sun, 24 March 2024 by : Ancora Marta age : 15