Over the next few weeks life went back to normal for Clara. Aunt Selina went home, and Peter was happily reunited with his bedroom. The sleeplessness episode was all but forgotten; until one chilly day in November when Clara came home from school to find Aunt Selina in the house once more. Her aunt explained that she’d been planning on visiting another family member, but they’d fallen ill so, because she’d had such a good time on her last visit, Selina had decided to visit Clara and Peter again.
That evening, Aunt Selina tracked Clara down in the kitchen where she was doing her homework and asked her about her sleeplessness of a few weeks before. The reminder wasn’t welcome, and Clara wasn’t keen to talk about it, however, her aunt’s gentle persistence was rewarded as Clara eventually told her about the nightmares. She didn’t mention the whispering voices, though; she was afraid her aunt would think she was crazy if she mentioned those.
Aunt Selina could tell that there was something that Clara was holding back, some detail that she was keeping to herself. When she could see that Clara was getting distressed by their conversation, she changed the subject.
A few hours later Clara wasn’t feeling as charitable towards her aunt. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, wide awake. It’s Aunt Selina’s fault that I can’t sleep, she thought grumpily. She shouldn’t have reminded me about it. It’s like she’s cursed me or something. Then a memory nibbled at the edge of Clara’s mind.
“Cursed me,” she mused. “Why does that sound familiar?” And she pondered it for a while before it came to her. Heart thumping, she thought, Cursed me, of course, it’s the stories. And Clara searched her memory for details of the stories Aunt Selina had recounted to her and Peter. In particular, she recalled the story of her great-great-great-great-aunt who’d been cursed by Gypsies and how Selina had said that the curse had been passed down through the generations.
Could it have been real? Wondered Clara. Then she shook her head, Of course not! Curses aren’t real, are they?
But, she argued with herself silently, her sleeplessness did seem to be recurring with frightening regularity, and the whispering was definitely not a normal phenomenon. Was the curse real? Had it been passed down through the generations as her aunt had said? Did Clara have it?
Clara decided that she needed to question her aunt, and this was so important it couldn’t wait until the morning. In fact, she thought, if the curse involved sleeplessness her aunt might be awake right now. Clara slipped out of bed. In the dark hallway Clara could make out that the door of her aunt’s bedroom was slightly ajar. Clara pushed the door wider and whispered, “Aunt Selina?”
When she didn’t get a response, she took a few steps into the room and whispered more loudly, “Aunt Selina, are you awake?” There was still no response from the bed. But something didn’t seem right. She couldn’t hear her aunt breathing, and there was absolutely no movement coming from under the duvet. Tiptoeing tentatively over to the bed Clara pulled the cover back and was shocked to discover that her aunt wasn’t there. A pillow had been stuffed under the cover to give the illusion that someone was sleeping in the bed, but she was definitely missing. Clara scanned the room in confusion, expecting her aunt to be standing behind the door or in a corner, waiting to surprise her, but she was completely alone.
Where could she possibly have gone at this time of night? Thought Clara. She’d definitely heard her aunt going to bed about eleven ‘o’ clock. She turned once again, puzzling over the empty room. Should she tell someone, maybe wake her parents? But no, her aunt had staged the bed to appear as if she was in it; she clearly didn’t want anyone to know that she was gone. Clara shrugged her shoulders – at least this meant that her assumption was correct and that her aunt was not sleeping either. She’d have to speak to her in the morning, assuming she was back by then. Clara slowly went back to bed and eventually dropped off to sleep in the pre-dawn hours.
When Clara dragged herself out of bed to get ready for school, she was so tired she’d completely forgotten all about her missing aunt. When she went downstairs for breakfast her mum saw the exhaustion on her daughter’s face.
“You’re in no fit state to go to school today,” she said. She came over and put her hand on Clara’s forehead. Her hand felt cool and soothing and Clara closed her eyes, momentarily enjoying the sensation.
Then Clara noticed that her aunt was missing from the breakfast table.
“Where’s Aunt Selina?” she asked.
“She’s having a lie in this morning,” replied her mum. “And I think you need to go back to bed yourself young lady.” And she pushed Clara gently but firmly back towards the stairs. Wanting to speak to her aunt, Clara initially resisted, but then the idea of lying back down on her bed and sinking to sleep was pretty irresistible, so she succumbed and went to bed willingly.
***
Later that day, while Peter was at school and Clara’s parents were at work, she was in her room reading a book when she heard a light knock at the door.
“May I come in?” Aunt Selina asked, poking her head in the door.
Clara nodded, putting her book down. Selina came in and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I need to talk to you Clara,” said Selina gently. “What I’m going to tell you is going to sound amazing and unbelievable, but I want you to listen closely and keep an open mind as I believe I can help you to manage your sleeping problems.” Aunt Selina paused and Clara watched her intently, wondering what her aunt was going to say next.
“I think,” said Selina, hesitantly, searching for the right words. “I think you have a special gift, Clara.”
“What kind of gift?” Clara asked, puzzled.
“One that has run in our family for a long time,” said Selina, pausing again to watch Clara closely. “You see, the stories that I told you and Peter – about your ancestors ... do you remember them?”
“Yeess,” said Clara, alarm bells starting to ping inside her head.
“Well, they were true. For the most part,” said Selina.
Clara scoffed. “Don’t be silly Aunt Selina. They can’t be true. There’s no such thing as shape-shifting or Gypsy curses. They’re not real.” And Clara laughed loudly and slightly hysterically. She was beginning to think that her aunt was either a little bit doolally or that she was winding Clara up. She wasn’t sure whether to be amused by their conversation or concerned.
Selina watched Clara, carefully, and sighed. She hadn’t appreciated how difficult this was going to be. She leant forwards and took Clara’s hands in both of hers, as if to hold her steady, “Child, you have the ability to shape-shift.”
Clara blinked. She’d definitely not been expecting that. Stunned, she blinked again, and then slowly pulled her hands back from her aunt and edged away from her toward the other side of the bed.
“You’re crazy,” said Clara shakily. It seemed the only logical explanation.
“I’m afraid not, Clara,” said Selina wryly. “You have all the signs. The vivid nightmares, not being able to sleep when there’s a full moon. And I bet you’re hearing the voices too.”
Clara flinched and glared at her aunt. How did she know about the voices? Then Clara screwed her eyes up accusingly. “You’ve been doing this to me,” she said angrily. “You were here both times that it happened. The only way you could know about it is if you’re the cause. You weren’t in your bed last night, I checked. It must be you.”
“No, no,” replied Selina waving her hands defensively. “It’s not me. Listen to me. One person from each generation of the family inherits the gift of being able to shape-shift into animal form. For some reason it skipped your mum’s generation, but you have it. Out of all your cousins it’s you that’s inherited the gene. I should know, I have it too.” Selina paused to see if her words were sinking in. “That’s why I wasn’t in my bed last night. I was out shape-shifting.”
Clara’s mind was buzzing. This was really confusing. She couldn’t understand why her aunt was saying such bewildering things to her. She shoo
k her head slowly from side to side in denial. This is a nightmare. She just wanted her aunt to shut up and leave her alone. Her aunt seemed to sense Clara’s unspoken desire.
“I understand how you feel Clara. I was in your shoes once. It’s a lot to take in. Unfortunately, there’s a bit more you need to know and then I promise I’ll leave you in peace to mull things over. You see our gift is to shape-shift, however, since your four times great aunt the gift also comes with a curse. The curse is the source of your sleeping problems as it forces us to shape-shift on the three nights of the full moon and only on those nights. Your sleep problems only occur on those three nights, don’t they?”
Clara shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. Aunt Selina gently patted Clara on the leg.
“I’ll leave you in peace to process things for a while,” said Selina. “I’m going to make a cup of tea. I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk more.” And with that Selina stood up and walked slowly over to the door. She gave her niece one last concerned glance before leaving and quietly pulling the door closed behind her.
Clara numbly watched her aunt go. She was in shock from the whole conversation. Was her aunt crazy? Clara sent her mind back to the first time she’d suffered with the sleeplessness. It had occurred for three nights, and she remembered that there had been a full moon.
She also thought about her aunt’s empty bed the night before and the reason why she had sought her aunt out in the first place. But it all seemed ludicrous in the cold light of day. Shape-shifting and curses, such nonsense! It was much more likely that her aunt was playing some kind of cruel trick on her, although Clara had no idea why she would.
Clara sighed. Was this all a dream? A waking nightmare? Her bedroom seemed to have become hazy and unreal. Then she almost jumped out of her skin as Peter barged in.
“We’re home,” he announced loudly. “Mum wants you to come downstairs.” And with that he ran back out again.
***
Clara deliberately avoided being alone with her aunt for the rest of the day. Later that night, lying wide awake in bed and listening to the noises of the slumbering house, her mind kept running over and over her afternoon conversation with her great aunt.
Curiosity finally getting the better of her, Clara slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the corridor to her aunt’s bedroom. Pushing the door open, Clara crept over to her aunt’s bed and found it to be empty once more. Where was her aunt? Clara wondered. She crept downstairs and checked the living room and the kitchen. They were in darkness, her aunt nowhere to be seen.
Puzzled, Clara went back to her bedroom and over to her window. Pushing open the curtains she gazed up into a dark, brooding sky of thick, turbulent cloud, which seemed to perfectly match her mood. A brief break in the clouds, however, revealed a momentary glimpse of the bright face of a full moon. Clara gasped.
She was turning away from the window when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of movement under the trees. She thought she could make out the golden retriever dog trotting along the path. Could it be her aunt? No, surely not. Feeling a chill trickling down her spine at the thought, Clara shivered convulsively, and crawled back under her warm, welcoming duvet.
Wriggling down, she realised that what her aunt had told her in the afternoon had frightened her more than anything else, and she wasn’t sure if the fear was because she thought her aunt was crazy or because, deep down, Clara suspected that what her aunt had told her could be true.
Chapter Three
After a restless, almost sleepless night, Clara was so out of sorts in the morning that her mum bundled her up and took her to the Doctor’s surgery for an emergency appointment. The doctor poked and prodded Clara and asked questions, shone a light in her eyes and ears, checked her temperature and drew some blood to send off for testing. She concluded that there was probably no need for concern as the symptoms were pretty common in pre-teenagers, and that Clara would simply grow out of them at some point. They left the surgery with a promise that if anything came up in the blood test results the surgery would let them know.
Back at home this information was shared and discussed with Clara’s dad and her great aunt while Clara went back to her room for a nap.
The whole family came together a little later for lunch and afterwards Selina proposed going for a walk.
“That’s a good idea,” said Clara’s mum. “Clara, why don’t you go too? You could probably do with some fresh air and exercise.”
Clara demurred saying that she had homework to do and that she felt too tired, but her parents wouldn’t be put off and, before she knew what was happening, she found herself being ushered into her coat and scarf and out of the door, which was shut firmly behind her.
Clara nervously followed her aunt down the alleyway at the side of the house and into the woods.
The woodland at the back of her street was unfamiliar territory to Clara; she wasn’t encouraged by her parents to come into the woods. She shivered now at the alien sounds of the rustling leaves and the cracking twigs. She kept thinking that she was seeing things moving through the brush out of the corner of her eye. It somehow reminded her of her nightmares, and she had to talk sternly to herself to avoid reaching out and catching her aunt’s hand for reassurance while they travelled deeper into the gloom.
They entered a small clearing and Selina stopped and contemplated it.
“This will do nicely,” she said cheerfully, and Clara jumped because even though her aunt had used her normal speaking voice, it sounded loud in the small clearing.
“Now,” started Aunt Selina. “I want to tell you the full story of your great-great-great-great-aunt and the Gypsy curse.”
Clara felt goose bumps come up on her arms and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
“It was the mid-nineteenth century, so over one hundred and sixty years ago, when your ancestor was a girl,” Selina squinted at Clara. “Probably only a couple of years older than you. Her name was Clara, too and she was a very gifted young lady. She had the ability to shape-shift into any animal she liked, and she could communicate with animals. She was so gifted, in fact, that not only could she communicate with them, but she also had influence over them. She could affect their behaviour. And she could do this in her animal form or her human form. There hasn’t been anyone in the family as talented as her, before or since.”
Clara listened to her aunt warily.
“The village where Clara lived was a happy, busy little place until one summer they were plagued by death. It started with the mysterious deaths and disappearances of chickens and other small animals. Then some stray cats and dogs’ bodies were found around the village. The deaths took place during the night over a number of weeks and one night a whole flock of sheep was wiped out. When the farmer discovered the dead sheep, he was furious and the news about the sheep soon spread throughout the village. All of the villagers became suspicious and distrusting of one another. One day a rumour sprang up that the Gypsies that were camped outside the village were the cause of the problems. This, in turn, made the Gypsies angry as they denied that they’d anything to do with it.”
Selina paused for a moment while she thought about the next part of the story.
“Your ancestor was aware of the animal deaths and had not ignored them. She had been going out each night, in animal form, to prowl the village and nearby fields to try and catch the person or thing that was responsible for the deaths and prevent further deaths from occurring. While out and about she communicated with the Gypsies dogs and discovered that the Gypsies were not to blame for the deaths. But whatever was responsible was cunning as she couldn’t catch it in the act or discover any clues as to who or what it was.
In order to prove that they weren’t involved, the Gypsies had mounted their own search for the killer. Clara had been lucky enough to avoid contact with the Gypsies when she was out and about at night until one night an old Gypsy woman caught her in the act of transforming back from animal to human form.
The Gypsy woman accused Clara of being the animal killer and wouldn’t listen to Clara’s denial. In punishment for Clara’s perceived crimes the Gypsy woman cursed her. The Gypsies then disappeared. Clara subsequently found out that the curse prevented her from changing from human to animal form at will.”
“Wait, the curse stopped Clara from changing into animals?” asked Clara in confusion.
“The curse stopped her changing into animals at will,” clarified her aunt. “Unfortunately, the curse forced your ancestor to change into animal form for three nights every month under the light of a full moon. It was intended to make life very difficult for Clara and ensure that she never forgot who cursed her or why. And it worked well. Eventually she retired, alone, to a cottage in the woods and lived an extremely quiet life. The animal deaths stopped soon after the Gypsies left, and the cause was never identified. And that was that.” Selina paused and rubbed her hands together to warm them up.
“So,” she said. “Every month for three nights one member of each generation of our family has reverted to animal form, just as Clara did, and soon it’ll be you.”
“What do you think caused the deaths of the animals?” Clara asked.
“It’s difficult to say after all this time,” replied Selina. “Maybe it was some kind of animal flu, like the bird flu, or maybe the animals were all drinking or eating something that was poisonous. It’s possible that one of the villagers was killing the animals for some nefarious reason and they were never caught.”
“Oh,” said Clara, thinking about the possibilities. “Why did the curse make life so difficult for Clara?”
Selina sighed, “Because she had no control over it. Up until that point she could choose when to transform and she could’ve chosen not to transform at all if she wanted to. The curse took that choice away from her. For reasons we’ll discuss at a later date she had to keep her gift a secret from her family and that was much more difficult to do for those three nights of the full moon when she had no control over the transformation. She couldn’t go on holiday, couldn’t get married, or have a family of her own. She had to make a lot of excuses which, believe me, becomes tiresome. It was easier for her, for us, to live alone, where we can please ourselves and not have to lie or make excuses to anyone”.
Under the Light of a Full Moon Page 2
