CHAPTER II - THROUGH THE HEDGE
I woke up with a start. My face was squashed against the windowpane, slimy spittle oozing from the corners of my mouth. A delightful sight, I'm sure! The steady pattering of the raindrops against the glass must have lulled me to sleep. I carefully pealed my face off the windowpane and rubbed my eyes, taking a peak outside.
It seemed to have stopped raining. The garden looked fresh and rejuvenated from the shower it had just received. The colours were almost too bright for my red-rimmed eyes to bear. The sun was glinting through the clouds; a rainbow even having formed above them. The view was breath-taking. It felt magical to me. I was awed by the heavenly beauty displayed before me.
My moment of serenity was quickly interrupted, however, when I saw to my dismay that I had forgotten to take in the washing! Drat! It was still hanging outside, dripping wet. Clever, Ruby…very clever! Remind me never to devote myself to household chores again while preoccupied. I sighed. I knew I was scatter-brained, but this? Had I been that deep in thought? Some of the washing had been flung off the lines, too. There must have been a real storm, wreaking its havoc while I snoozed obliviously.
Grabbing my Jane Eyre edition out of reflex, I ran downstairs to fix the mess I had made. But as I had reached the patio, an odd sensation overcame me. I felt uneasy, as if something was amiss. This feeling took a hold of me suddenly without forewarning. I could not see anything odd at first glance, though. Everything seemed normal. I decided to head to the back of the garden then, which I could not clearly make out from the place I was standing, as the washing hanging from the lines was obscuring my view. I made my way through the dripping clothes, ducking as I went. As I came out the other end, I felt that uneasy feeling creep over me again, and I soon knew why.
From the place I was standing opposite the hedge, bordering on the neighbouring garden, I could make out the faint bristling of leaves and snapping of twigs. The hedge itself seemed to have come alive! It was quivering, shaking even, and seemed to be parting in the middle. My jaw dropped. What on Earth was happening? Was I still dreaming? I stood rooted to the spot, entranced. The hedge was indeed splitting in the middle, as if it were being pulled part by an invisible hand, each end moving sideways, branches untwining, until an opening was created in the middle in the shape of an arch. There was now an actual doorway in the hedge, leading God knows where. What a strange thing to behold…
I was panting, overwhelmed by the sight I was witnessing. What I saw beyond the hedge was not the neighbour's garden either. It was indeed a garden, but from what I could make out, it had gone quite wild. It also seemed to be raining heavily while our garden was lit with brilliant sunshine. How could this be? My mind was buzzing with conflicting thoughts, but I had no time to process them, for there was something even more curious to be seen.
I could make out a running figure on the other side, heading for the archway. This person was moving fast, and in no time, she burst onto our side of the hedge dripping and coughing heavily. I stared at her dumbfounded. She looked like she had stepped right off the stage of a Victorian play. I pinched my arm just to make sure it was real. It tingled with the pain. The girl stood hunched before me, attempting to clean the poufy part of her bland grey gown, which was strewn with mud spots. She rubbed it gruffly, then stood up, sighing, as if she didn't see the point.
She froze suddenly when she took sight of me. We stared at each other for a second or two. Then she curtseyed, clearing her throat, as if she had just remembered her manners: "Excuse me, Miss, for trespassing on your property. I seem to have travelled into a different part of England. I don't know how…or have I travelled through space? I do not know, Miss. It seems this archway has transported me somewhere, perhaps a parallel world of sorts, but I assure you, I mean no harm. My name is…"
"Jane," I interrupted her dazedly, my mouth opening before I could stop it. "You're Jane, aren't you?" I addressed the girl directly, gazing at her transfixed, my mind not quite comprehending the thought I had already uttered. "Yes, Jane Eyre, Miss," she took another curtsy and smiled at me encouragingly. "My name is Ruby, Ruby Bunting," I introduced myself, still in shock. "How can you be Jane? You are not a real person. You're the creation of…of Charlotte Brontë," I stuttered, waving the book in her face stupidly. "Do you see? This is a fictional story. How can you be standing here before me?"
I almost sounded accusing, but Jane responded calmly. "I have my fleshly envelope, as do you, Miss Bunting. I am astounded you profess it could not be so. I am as much human as you." She looked at me with a quizzical look in her eye, that made me drop my gaze ashamedly. She was intimidating, as she stood there looking me up and down.
"Your hair," she then suddenly said, "it glows in the evening sun. What a unique colour. Is that why your parents named you Ruby?" "Yes," I said. "Ruby, like the diamond." My hair was naturally a reddish shade, almost golden, and tended to draw people's attention. "It is beautiful," Jane said to me. I smiled at her, then I burst out laughing, as a means to release tension, because I felt this entire situation was so ridiculous.
What on Earth was going on? Had I really just met Jane bloody Eyre (pardon my French) and had she actually given me a compliment just now? Wow…either my delusions had a tighter grip on me than I thought, or I had wandered straight into the realm of insanity. There was no way this could be real. I had always wanted to meet Jane, but that was just a fancy, not a feasible wish to fulfil. I decided to go with it all the same. What other choice did I have?
"I saw you running from a mile away through that terrible storm on your side…," I began cautiously, "What were you running from?" Jane hesitated, looking at me sternly, as if to decide whether or not I could be trusted. She must have thought so, for she then replied: "I was running from…my master."
"You mean Mr Rochester?" "Yes," she said simply, then asked, "how is it you knew my name before I knew yours? You seem to have oracular abilities. That look in your eye. It speaks volumes. Pray, what are you? Are you a dream? Are you truly some kind of fairy? I cannot tell, and I do admit, I do not really believe in such things, but I am at a loss to explain this situation," Jane frowned, seeming confused.
"You have travelled in time, Jane," I explained. "You travelled from a fictional story into the real world. For, in this world you solely exist as a character in a story like I told you. I have read that story many a time and I know it off by heart. I believe you could call me your closest ally." Jane nodded pensively. "I trust you," she then said gravely, without giving it much thought. I stretched out my hand to her, saying: "This is how we greet each other in my world. It is a sign of respect, a sign that we are friends." We shook hands.
"Friends?" she asked with a smile on her face. "Yes, friends, indeed," I said. "I would be interested to read this book, which supposedly tells my story," Jane said after a brief pause. I told her we would come to that later. She indeed seemed to have been running from Rochester. From her description, it must have been right around the time of the novel where Jane runs away from her 'master' after finding out about Bertha Mason. She confirmed my suspicion when I asked her. This meant that the part of the story where Jane met St. John Rivers would fall away, unless she returned to Thornfield, but how could I send her back into the storm? Would I not be able to persuade her, to soothe her? She had now missed out on almost escaping death on the Yorkshire moors, was that really such a bad thing? (I mean, duh?!) How could I send her back now? A blip had already occurred in the story, if I now sent Jane back, she could die, she might never find her way back to Rochester again.
In that moment, I was torn, thinking desperately what I should do. I eventually decided to do the polite thing with any guest, and asked Jane to come inside. I made her a cup of tea (as you do with new friends. Quaint, I know…) and she told me about the recent events which had driven her into my arms, as it were.
If this was all really happening, then it was my duty to bring Jane and Rochester back together, but I needed to send her back at the right moment, or could I possibly prevent the fire Bertha had caused? Would this be wise? I had no clue what to do at this point, but I knew the solution was behind the hedge. I asked Jane to join me in another tour of the garden. The hedge was still wide open, unchanged, the archway beckoning me to explore the world beyond. As I stared at the hedge, I felt transfixed, as if some higher power had taken hold of me, for all of a sudden I couldn't help myself, I was drawn towards the archway. It seemed like my very purpose lay beyond that hedge. My destiny was awaiting me.
I don't know what it was that drove me to cross the border between my world and Jane's, but I did. I stepped through the archway tentatively, until I left familiar territory. Jane had lent me her cape and bonnet, so I would be somewhat protected from the storm, but before I even had time to take in my new surroundings, I heard a shriek behind me: "Ruby! Ruby, come back!" But everything was happening too fast, and in a flash, the hedge had closed up again behind me, leaves rustling, branches grasping at each other like long spindly fingers, leaving me standing alone in a foreign land, in a place I thought I knew well, but which now seemed like the darkest place on Earth.
I fell to my knees in desperation, Jane's voice still ringing in my ears. I felt lost and confused, but I didn't have time to process my emotions, as I suddenly heard a faint noise in the distance, the noise of a horse galloping through the mud. I jerked my head up in surprise, as I watched, unprepared, as none other than Mr. Rochester came riding furiously towards me. Now I felt a tingling feeling coursing through my body. I was afraid. Would Mr. Rochester throw me off his property or worse lock me up in the attic, as well? He certainly looked ferocious with his glaring eyes. Oh! How I wished I could return home. How I wished I hadn't been so foolish!
