This is my contribution to the Halloween story prompt. The story must include at least 3 of the following: Autumn harvest, Jack o lanterns, Thursday, Black cat/s, Blue dog/s, Poetry, Politics, Gothic architecture, Lace handkerchiefs, Psychic ability/fortune telling.
Bittersweet Reflections
Borrowing from my own work, TinaLouise's story, and even a smidge of JK Rowling.
"Bye baby Bunting
Daddy's gone a-hunting
Gone to get a rabbit skin
To wrap the baby Bunting in."
Bertha Shirley loved to sing to her unborn baby. Even before it was born she murmured words of love through the womb. And later the scant months they lived together were filled with conversation. Bertha never spoke to her child as if she were a baby but used full sentences to express her love and explain the world as though she had a premonition that they had but a short time.
31 Oct 1875
It is late. The children have gone to bed after a busy day carving jack o'lanterns. Anne has been washing dried pumpkin off every surface for the last few hours, her hands still chapped after helping with the harvest. Now relishing the peace and quiet she kneels before the cabinet in the parlour and asks, "are you there Katie?" at the last unbroken glass pane. Mr Thomas had come home the previous evening and had broken the penultimate one in a fit of intoxicated rage. Anne fears her only friend will soon be forever lost, a fate too tragical to imagine. Her too big grey eyes in her pale thin face search for the only friend she's ever known.
Bertha knows that Katie is pretend but where's the harm in that? Beyond the fact that she's Anne's only friend. 'Poor little soul', Bertha murmurs to Walter. 'Our girl deserves so much more.' Walter places his reassuring hand on Bertha's shoulder. "Anne," Bertha softly calls. "My dearest darling." Anne's eyes rest upon her mother as if for the first time. It isn't of course, Bertha and Walter have been visiting every All Hallow's eve since they passed but Anne can never know this. Their visitation is short lived and forgotten the next day.
"Mother?" Anne asks, staring at the red-headed apparition. "Is it really you?"
Bertha nods and turns to include Walter in their conversation. "Yes darling, we are here. We always watch you from heaven but this night we are allowed to visit. We wish we could all be together."
"Oh Mother, Father, how I miss you. Why did you have to leave me?" Anne wipes tears away from her eyes.
"It was not by choice dearest one," Anne melts at the sound of Walter's beautiful deep voice. "And we know it isn't easy now. But it won't always be like this."
Anne sneaks a glance at the room behind her where two ghostly blue, china dogs their ears chipped from misuse stare at her, and looks back at her parents in confusion. "It won't?"
"No darling," her mother replies. "You have so much love to come," she reaches out as if to stroke her girl, but her hands fall short of the mark.
"Tell me, tell me how it was when we were together?"
Bertha describes their sense of joy when they found out they were expecting, how the anticipation of parenthood filled them with excitement. "I couldn't wait to be your daddy," Walter says. "A boy would have been wonderful of course, but I yearned for a daughter."
Beside him Bertha nods, "we both did. And then you arrived, and you were the sweetest, most gorgeous little thing. You never cried except when you were hungry and that was easily sorted. I adored nursing you, bringing sustenance to your little belly and to watch you grow." She looked sideways at Walter, "and Daddy loved to tickle your toes and kiss your tummy both with his fingers and my favourite lace handkerchiefs."
"Remember that first picnic?" Walter said. "You packed a delicious luncheon, Bertha and the three of us went to the park outside town. I carried you Anne and showed you all the flowers and later we dangled spring leaves and blossom over your face and watched how entranced you were by nature."
Anne is crying at the thought of such a beautiful little family, but she is exhausted and cannot keep her eyes open. She slumps against the cabinet only to wake cold and stiff in the morning. Her conversation with her parents is but a distant dream, but their words linger in the recesses of her mind providing a strength in the months to come.
31 Oct 1876
Halloween is not encouraged in the asylum being considered unchristian, but the children manage to celebrate in their own way. They've stayed up late in the gothic building whispering thrilling ghost stories to each other before settling down to sleep, praying beforehand that their nightmares might not be too frightening.
Naturally Anne has told the most hair-raising stories of ghosts and ghouls rising from the grave to haunt unsuspecting children. In her attempts to scare her roommates she has managed to terrify herself as well. Around her, they fall asleep one by one leaving her alone in the echoey room. Gathering her blanket around her she makes her way to the window meaning to gaze down upon the gas lamp below.
Instead, all Anne can see is the reflection of a couple staring lovingly at her. Pulling her blanket over her head she shivers in delicious fear. She drops the blanket incrementally to see their faces once again. The woman has red hair and the taller gentleman brown. "Anne," says the lady. "Is it really you?"
"Who, who are you?" gasps Anne, hardly daring to believe a reflection is talking to her.
"This is your mother, Bertha," Walter replies. "And I'm your father."
A distant memory rattles at the edge of Anne's consciousness. "Have we met before?" she stammers.
"Every year," her mother replies. "Without fail."
"We can only come on this evening and only in this manner," Walter explains his sonorous voice filling Anne with such love.
"Halloween," Anne says in sudden understanding.
"That's right darling," Bertha says. "I wish we could be there with you always, but in a way we are. We look down upon you from heaven."
"It doesn't do much good," Anne said sullenly. "I'm still stuck here. Even the Thomases were better. I don't think I can put up with this for much longer."
Bertha glanced furtively around as if she were about to give away a terrible secret, "you won't my darling. This won't last forever."
Anne scoffs, "I can't see how. No one's going to adopt an ugly girl like me. They only want beautiful babies, or if they do, I'll just be sent out as a skivvy again." She can see it now, "my life is over."
"Oh, my darling girl, don't despair. We are doing all we can to improve your lot. One day it will get better. One day you'll leave."
Anne turns from her parents, she loves them so, but what can they do to help, she is powerless and stuck in this terrible place forever.
31 Oct 1877
It's a Thursday, not that the Shirleys care. They are visiting earth as they always do on this date. The moon casts a glow over the farm where Anne now resides, a black cat slinks out of the barn using its light to hunt.
After years of false promises Anne's situation has finally improved. She is tucked up fast asleep in her little room under the green gable.
Bertha would dearly love to see her girl up close again but recognises that she's in a happier place at last. She's no longer dependent upon pretend reflected friendships instead she has real kindred spirits with whom to share confidences. Her new mother may be stern but Marilla's love for Anne is apparent, and Matthew dotes upon her. Still, it's bittersweet, Bertha so adored chatting to her daughter on this night every year and this time when Anne has finally found a home, she finds she cannot.
"Come away darling," Walter says to her. "At least we know she has found happiness. Maybe she doesn't need us anymore." Bertha's eyes fill with tears, for to think that Anne no longer needs her mother is too painful to bear.
Of course, they're both wrong. Anne might be happy now, but she will always need the strength they impart on their otherwise forgotten visits which will continue until they are all reunited in heaven.
