Chapter Two

When Catherine first set foot outside the airport, she was amazed at all the snow. It rarely ever snowed in Australia and to find such a place required a trip past Canberra all the way up to the mountains in Thredbo. Regardless, she was enjoying the fresh crisp air. It wasn't long before a horn beeped and Libby's navy blue BMW pulled up on the side.

Immediately her aunt got out and with wide open arms hugged her niece. "My God Cate! How you have grown." Catherine smiled shyly at her aunt. She couldn't really say her aunt was looking well because she was not. Her skin was unusually pallid although that might have been due to the weather. There were deep bags under her eyes though and Catherine had the sneaking suspicion it was due to stress with the state of things at home.

"It's so good to see you again Libby," she said quietly. With a weak smile, her aunt helped her gather her luggage in the car and off they drove. Before they talked about anything serious, Catherine spent her time marvelling at the scenery and how peculiar it was to drive on the right side of the road. Libby chuckled and claimed the logic was the other way round. Soon the car fell into a peaceful silence and after a short while Libby decided to break it.

"So Bill finally moved out," she said flatly. If there was any regret in her voice, Catherine couldn't detect it. Libby had always been good at hiding her emotions. Catherine stared ahead and was careful to keep her expression bland. "I see," she said and added, "how are the kids taking it?"

Libby's face was grim and Catherine felt her throat ache in a pang of sympathy. "Not well. Especially Jamie. He's twelve and as much as I would like to blame his attitude on young adolescence, I know that its not it. He blames me. Blames me for it all. But he can't see that Bill has made him like this." Catherine remained silent, waiting for her aunt the elaborate on the particulars. As a prompt she cleared her throat and said "what has Bill done?"

Libby's fingers tightened around the steering wheel to the point where her knuckles turned white. "Filling their heads with silly ideas. It is fine to believe in these childish things like the Easter bunny and Jack Frost, but you'd think they'd move away from it now." Catherine raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Was it really all about this?

"Libby…" she began trying to think of how to explain this without sounding rude or judgemental. "Jamie and Sophie are still very young. And though I agree they are a little too old for it, it isn't entirely abnormal." Her aunt was not to be perturbed. She shook her head.

"No you don't understand. They really believe them to be real. Too real. Very real. They have both made up elaborate stories about these mythological creatures to the point that their lives are consumed by it. Jamie's grades have been slipping at school because of how much he adores his best friend Jack Frost and how the Man in the Moon might make him a Guardian."

Well it explained it a little, but Catherine didn't think that was the whole problem.

"It isn't uncommon for children to have imaginary friends."

Libby scoffed and indicated to turn right. They were in the main town now.

"I know, but this…this is too much. Jamie's whole life is consumed by it. With Sophie, I allow more leeway because she is barely eight, but Jamie will be starting high school soon. You'll have to see them to understand. You don't know how worried I am Cate. I am worried that later in life Jamie might get sick. Just like…"

Libby stopped herself and checked Catherine's grave face for any sign of offence. Thankfully her niece decided to finish the sentence for her. "Like my mother?" An awkward silence ensured as her aunt hesitated and swallowed hard.

"Yes. Like your mother."

Catherine felt a wave of sympathy. Lena's death had been hard on her aunt and no doubt her death had contributed to the breakdown of Libby's marriage. Catherine however was sure her mother was merely used as an excuse for Libby's acidic battles against Bill.

"I doubt you should worry if you are thinking of genetics. You know that Lena was adopted."

Her aunt gave a sigh.

"It is easy to forget that."

If she could have, Catherine would have hugged her.

"So I don't think you need to worry. I am sure it is just a phase and it is just Jamie's way of imagination. Pretend play and imaginary friends are beneficial for children's cognition you know."

Libby however was not convinced.

"When you see them you will understand," was all she said.

Yes Catherine conceded. That was what it all came down to. Catherine was so sure that Libby was overreacting over nothing, but what else could she say?

"What does all this have to with Bill?"

Libby turned onto the main road. Ice and snow covered the streets. It was the middle of winter.

"He is responsible for their silly thoughts. Indulging them, letting them believe it to be true. Not focusing on important things like their school work or sports. Did you know Jamie gave up soccer? He sleighs now, but hasn't asked for me to take him to any professional classes. Regardless, it is not even a normal decent sport anyway. And Bill sees nothing wrong with it."

Catherine wasn't sure what to say to that. To her so far, it seemed that Libby was the problem. Being unable to cope with her children properly at this point. Not uncommon and as far as psychology was concerned, the rearing of children was the most difficult part of marriage when it came to intimate relationships between couples.

"Is that all?"

Her aunt scoffed.

"Of course not. Things are so different when you're young you know? You think that marriage means life, but then things change."

Catherine smiled.

"You're not that old Libby. You're only thirty five."

Her aunt smiled at her in appreciation.

"Thanks. But anyway I know I cannot spend the rest of my life with Bill. Things are expensive now. Life is hard here in America. You know we are still in the middle of an economic recession. He's not educated, he won't find any solid work and I am tired of his chauvinist views. You know I can't entirely blame him, but he expects this subservient door mat for a wife and I can't be that. His parents and brothers scorn me. Their wives consider me a disgrace to their gypsy culture and quite frankly I want none of it influencing my children."

It was as she thought. Libby has reached her breaking point and enough was enough.

With a sigh Catherine said the only thing she could think of to say.

"Well whatever the case I am here to support you and the children."

Jaime Peters was no ordinary boy. Well he use to be ordinary, but he was no longer.

In fact Jaime had matured tremendously over the years even though his school grades didn't reflect it. He was no longer the same boy he use to be and he was content with that.

Quietly he sat on one of the decaying wooden chairs in the park. Far-off he could hear other children playing and he couldn't help but frown. To be honest he missed playing like that. Playing like his friends. Hell, playing with his friends.

Except he no longer had any.

They had all grown up. Well, grown out of it because he didn't consider them to be very mature at all. It had been fun for a few years, remembering that night when all the Guardians had saved them from the darkness of Pitch Black and remaining friends with them afterwards except they had stopped believing.

With the prospects of starting middle school, his former friends decided to put off childish things. Things like the Guardians. They brushed the whole affair off that night as nothing more than a vivid dream and scorned him when he refused to do the same. Of course after the event they couldn't see the Guardians, but had believed strongly thereafter.

Now that all had changed. It was nothing more than childish imaginations they had told him. Imaginations he was refusing to let go off. Some of them blamed it all on the death of his Aunt Lena who often visited them around Christmas all the way from Australia. In pity it spared him from bullies. Others blamed it on his immaturity and unwillingness to grow up and face reality. His mother in particular, blamed it on his father who let him be whatever he wanted to be.

That was the worst part of it and he couldn't help but feel all of it was his fault. Dad was gone now and all he and Sophie had were their Guardian friends. At least Jack Frost and Bunnymund were frequent visitors.

Sighing he looked critically at his sketch. He wasn't a good drawer, but he was determined to get better. Aunt Lena had been a good drawer and had spoiled him abundantly with crafts and artworks.

Catherine had observed him quietly from the trees. When she and Libby had arrived home, none of the children were there. Sophie was staying at a friend's house and Jamie had left a note saying he had gone to the park. After settling down and arranging all her things, Catherine too said she would head to the park. Libby was kind enough to give her directions and to call her if she got lost, but Catherine was sure she could handle it.

Making sure her beanie protectively covered her ears and blowing some warm air into her gloved hands, she headed down the side walk admiring the picturesque view and quaint little town her aunt lived in. The park was a large one with many twists and turns, but also with many signs for directions. There were also a lot of squirrels about, which Catherine found fascinating because there were none in Sydney.

It wasn't long until she found him. Sitting there quietly all by himself with a sketchbook in hand. Catherine pursed her lips a little and wondered where all his friends were. Was he really out here all alone? By himself?

She scrutinized him harder. He was a handsome boy and had grown tremendously over the years. He was tall for his age and more mature looking. Perhaps Libby was having trouble dealing with a son on the brink of puberty. But what Catherine noticed about him the most was that he was very detached. Indifferent to everything around him and it bothered her.

Deciding not to waste any more time, she approached him.

He didn't notice her as she peered over his shoulder, but after some time, she decided to break the silence.

"That's a very nice picture of Jack Frost you're drawing." Jamie went still and then looked up at her. Recognition dawned on his face and the biggest smile made its way to his lips.

"Cate!" He exclaimed. Catherine smiled and made her way around the seat to hug her little cousin.

"How you been mate? It's been so long since I have seen you. You've grown tall."

"Fatter," he replied. Catherine smiled and then directed her eyes to his drawing. At twelve, he didn't have the artistic talent of her mother, but she could see the similarities.

"Is that how Jack Frost is portrayed these days? A teenage boy with white hair and a hoodie?"

Jamie chuckled and briefly scrutinized his drawing.

"He changes with time."

She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, but decided not to question.

"Well I am glad to see you are quite the artist. I brought some wonderful presents for you so you'll be able to make use of them."

He cast her a dubious raised brow.

"It isn't another stuffed toy kangaroo is it?"

Catherine looked at him innocently and hopped up.

"Of course not."

He stood up with her.

"It's a koala," she said and heard him groan.

Nonetheless, he followed her out of the park and proceeded to tell her the details about all she had missed in the last few years.

"So what do you think?" Libby asked her when the children were asleep.

Catherine stared into her hot chocolate drink and contemplated.

"I really don't know. He could just be an imaginative little boy or it could be something else." Catherine didn't really want to mention what that something else was. To think that it had happened to little Jamie was frightening to say the least.

Libby rubbed her temples and Catherine found herself feeling sorry for her again.

"Do you think I should take him to a psychologist?"

Catherine hesitated a few moments. This could all probably be nothing, but yet at twelve years old it was unusual to believe that such an event was actually a reality.

"Are you sure he isn't joking about it? I mean does he really believe that the bogeyman tried to take over the world with his nightmares of darkness and that these Guardians and he tried to stop it?"

Libby glared at her sharply. "Did he give any indication that he thought it was a joke?" She snapped.

Catherine winced. Clearly her aunt had already considered that possibility.

"No," she admitted.

Her only explanation was that something else had happened. Something so bad that Jamie had created this whole storyline of ideas to deal with the pain. Pitch Black obviously represented that something and those Guardians were his way of coping with the agony. That or he was just exceptionally imaginative.

Yet the more she thought about it, the more she believed the former to be true. Jamie was obsessed with these creatures. His whole room spoke about it tenfold and so did his personality. It was all he could focus on.

Perhaps projective testing by a psychologist might underline the deeper meaning behind it all, yet Catherine had never been a big shipper of the Freudian Psychoanalytic theory. She was sure there were more plausible explanations for this bordering on social upbringing and environment. Perhaps this escape into fantasy was Jamie's way of coping with his parent's divorce. There were many psychosomatic theories to test in such cases regardless.

"If you really want to, I suppose you can. They might ask him some questions, have him draw some pictures and if there are any concerns, have him come back for more observation. But I don't know Libby. It really may be nothing. He doesn't seem to be altered in his behaviour other than enthusiasm, no signs of childhood anxiety or depression. However if you think it is best than do what you think is best for your child."

Mental illness could manifest itself in many forms and whatever happened to Jamie could have been blotted out by his mind. It might explain why he didn't seem so unhappy. Yet she wanted to kick herself for such thoughts. The boy was only twelve, had a good up-bringing and loving parents. There was no reason for him to be sick.

She was just being paranoid and thinking too much about this because of her mother,

There was nothing wrong with Jamie. He was just different.

Right?