by Kim Petersen
Faded blue eyes peered under the grandstand. ‘Snake!’ the man’s voice boomed.
A few men scrambled down the bleachers to join him.
‘Where?’
‘Under the grandstand! He tried to attack my girl; he’s a big black bastard too.’ The ageing man consoled his sobbing daughter. He gave her a gentle nudge. ‘Go to your mother, Skye.’
The girl’s father turned towards the carpark. ‘I’ll get my axe; watch out for him,’ he instructed his friends before disappearing into the car lot.
Ace eyed the small cluster of legs assembling near the grandstand. Shit! he thought, looking towards the old truck for an escape. Before he could move, one man leaned to peer under the shadows where he still lingered. He reacted immediately, lunging the full force of his weight to sink razor sharp choppers into the flesh of his victim’s face.
Teeth submerged and tore through skin easily, and despite the threat around him, Ace felt a ripple of excitement surge through him as he tasted the blood of a human for the first time in his metamorphosed embodiment. The man gurgled and grunted as he fell to the ground groping at the strong jaws that held him captive. His solid body began to convulse as Ace released a fatal current of venom into his bloodstream.
A thumping pound on his head forced Ace to release his victim. Lights blinded his vision as he squinted towards the heavy boot that clobbered him again. He shrunk back and reluctantly retreated into the shadows with the vibrational sounds of hysterical screams ringing through his ears. He made a fast dash to the cover of the old truck where he watched the panicking crowd for a moment as they ran about in a frenzy.
‘Oh my god!’ a woman shrieked.
‘Is he alive?’
‘Call an ambulance!’
People hovered over the injured man, his body shaking violently as he convulsed and foamed at the mouth.
‘Did you see that snake? I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘The biggest snake I’ve ever seen.’
‘A monster!’ someone declared loudly over the commotion.
The little girl’s father came running into sight with a long axe in his hand. ‘Where did the snake go?’ he bellowed, searching under the bleachers.
‘He went that way, Warren.’ A bulky man pointed towards the general direction of the old truck. Then he gestured to the axe in Warren’s hand. ‘Mate, I don’t think this is a good idea right now. That snake is too big, even with that.’
Warren chuckled. ‘I can handle a snake, Greggo,’ he muttered, turning to head for the truck.
Ace sized up the axe-carrying man, while skimming his tongue over blood tinged fangs. His heart raced in anticipation as he considered quenching his growing thirst for blood before Warren was joined by a couple of blokes.
An ambulance whirled its way into the dusty carpark. While the would-be hunters were momentarily distracted by its screeching sirens, Ace took the opportunity to head for the cover of the nearby bush, leaving a thick, slithering track through the dirt in his wake. He prowled deeper into the dense camouflage the bush provided and settled behind the trunk of a fallen tree. He sneered as he heard his pursuers trekking cautiously through the outskirts of the bush, uncertain about venturing in any further in the darkness.
‘He’s gone, Warren; we’ll never find him now!’ A man’s voice boomed.
Warren hesitated as he scanned over the shadows of the rural blades of grass that tangled around dry branches and chunky trees. He glanced towards his friend. ‘Did you see that snake’s eyes? They were as blue as the sky just before dark fall. That was no ordinary snake.’ He shook his head.
The bulky man slapped Warren on the shoulders. ‘He’s a snake I’d rather not see again … C’mon, he’s gone now; let’s get out of here and see how Terry is doing.’
Warren hesitated before nodding. ‘Okay,’ he conceded, allowing his friend to steer him from the bush.
As the men retreated towards the rodeo ground, Ace peered over the big trunk and noticed Warren glancing over his shoulder into the darkness. He recognised the spark that flashed through the man’s eyes. Oh, such determination! He jeered to himself, before nestling down to prepare for his shift back to human form. There is more amusement to be had here tonight, he sniggered.
He had noticed some men’s clothes hanging over the back tray of a ute he had passed in the carpark earlier. He planned on snatching them up as fast as he could, before anyone noticed him strutting around butt naked. Then he would join the delightful commotion of the crowd … And perhaps even meet Warren, he grinned.
Ace coiled his thick long body into a black scaly bundle, carefully tucking his tail under his large head. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before finding his centre of consciousness. He pushed himself up and out of his reptile body, relishing the feelings of power that accompanied his elevation. Spinning now, he held clear the vision of his human form before his eyes and with one determined thrust, focused himself to embody the familiar figure once more. As he entered through the crown of the unmoving serpent, he accepted the surge of pain while the transformation became complete.
Ace fluttered his eyelids as he arose from his attained metamorphosis. As the dizziness in his head began to subside, he abruptly became aware of the chill around him. He drew his limbs closer. He rubbed his arms to keep warm as he considered his experience. He cursed silently to himself as the memory of missing his first target and eating dirt struck his ego. His head spun when he heard a deep chuckle emanating through the wooded foliage.
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself; for you are still learning. We are pleased,’ the voiced hissed through the inky darkness.
Ace squinted and spotted two yellow eyes flashing through the trees. ‘Who are you? Show yourself!’ he demanded.
More chortling echoed around him. ‘You already know me well, Ace. I’ve been with you for some time … continue the path that beckons you, for all riches and power await you.’
The gnarly voice faded with the dissolve of the yellow eyes, leaving Ace alone.
He jumped to his feet and ran against the cold night, stopping when he reached the edge of the bush to peer into the dimly lit carpark. Satisfied the coast was clear, he bolted for the clothes that still hung over the tray of the ute and drew the fitted garments over himself as fast as his stiffening limbs would allow, finishing the dressing session with an old cougar-style hat before setting off towards the rodeo arena.
‘A little tight don’t you think?’ a woman’s voice filtered through the darkness.
Ace jerked around with surprise. ‘Huh?’ he uttered, stopping to face a young woman leaning against a bonnet of a parked car.
She was wearing a buttoned-up flannelette shirt over black jeans that strained against her plump figure. Her long curly red hair sprang and jutted wildly and appeared to be aflame under the glow of a lone light-post. Her face was as pale as milk and ghostly against the thick ring of charcoal she wore around her eyes.
She grinned as she took out a cigarette. ‘The clothes you stole. It’s not every day you see a man walking out of the bush butt naked. I’m almost convinced you are the result of a spell I recently cast,’ she said, laughing and offering him a smoke.
He ignored her outstretched hand and allowed his eyes to drift over her as he sized her up.
‘Who have you got back there?’ she gestured towards the bush.
He shook his head. ‘No-one is back there,’ he said. Eyes as cold as icicles speared through her. ‘Are you some kind of witch?’ he asked with half-interest.
She shrugged and tucked the cigarettes away in her bag. ‘What if I am?’ she said, challenging his icy stare with her own. She shuddered visibly, and her eyes darted from him before she switched the conversation. ‘You realise there is a monster snake on the loose,’ she said.
He drove his eyes deeper into hers before twisting his head in a wicked grin. ‘Yeah, I like snakes,’ he said, finding it difficult to keep the amusement out of his voice.
‘I like snakes too,’ sh
e murmured.
He turned away from her before continuing towards the rodeo.
‘Hey!’ she called.
He paused to look at her.
‘I’m Madison,’ she said, blowing a thick puff of smoke towards him.
‘I don’t care,’ he grunted.
Madison smiled as she watched him walk away. ‘Oh, you will, snake-man,’ she said under her breath as she stamped the cigarette out. ‘You will.’
She slung her bag around her shoulder and ambled off after him.
Annabella narrowed her green eyes as she forcefully threw a big chunk of clay against the wooden table top. She scooped up the damp clay to carefully inspect it for air bubbles before wedging it against the hard surface a few more times. When at last she was satisfied all traces of air had been eliminated, she grinned and perched on the small stool before the pottery wheel. She selected the appropriate sized bat for the wheel, and placed her wedged clay in the centre of the metal plate.
She closed her eyes. Filling her lungs with air, she pushed aside all the incessant thoughts that seemed to plague her recently, and granted herself relief from their suffocating web. With the warm rush of an exhale, she smiled behind closed lids and welcomed the tingles of another realm as she approached the gateway.
Tall golden gates swung open to allow her entry, and without hesitation Annabella drifted through and into the golden threads of love she had become accustomed to visiting. She was greeted by a dark angel – her angel. This was her place of growth and blossoming. In this world she became the full magnificence of her glory as she joyfully received her lessons.
Today, however, she was here for no particular lesson. She had travelled through the veil and came here to receive inspiration. Since the passing of her father, her mother had taken a turn for the worse and it wasn’t long before she was diagnosed with an aggressive strain of stomach cancer. Annabella had come to this world today to ask for assistance in strengthening her divine healing rays before she qualified the vase she was about to sculpture for her sick mother, Rose.
‘Bella. Welcome.’ The angel’s voice reverberated through her like a radiant beam of light.
Bella felt a great sense of ease as she basked under her angel’s immersion.
‘My mother’s illness is worsening. I have come to ask for help,’ she said.
‘I know, Bella. Together, we will consciously qualify your vase with healing today, but I’m afraid we cannot alter your mother’s will. Her health depends upon the consciousness she has of it, and the will she is free to manipulate.’
Bella drank in her features. Her long dark hair fell supple to the coloured wings that hovered and bobbed behind her as if with a life of their own, and her emerald eyes illuminated bright upon her hallowed face. She always wore white. A sheer white gown draped over the petite frame, and when she smiled, she felt the warmth of it seep right through to her core. Bella thought it to be the most elegant, bewitching smile she had ever seen.
Bella frowned. ‘You mean she may want to die?’ she asked. Even in this celestial world she could still feel the discord of that thought creep up on her.
The angel smiled. ‘Bella, we never really die. We make transitions into other realms, other forms. Your mother will always be with you – in this world or the next – just like your father.’
Bella nodded. She had never gone further than a few strides past the golden gates. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to explore this world; she knew it was hers for the taking when she was ready. As it was, to dwell near the gates was enough for her for now. Her vision beheld shimmering waters in the distance. From her standpoint, the water appeared deeper and a richer blue than any stretch of water to be found on earth. A blue that burned within the depths of her soul’s memory.
The angel turned and followed Bella’s stare. ‘What do you see, Bella?’
‘I see beauty everywhere,’ she whispered.
The angel swept her eyes over her like a feather dancing in the wind. ‘It’s time for us to go, Bella. Your sculpture awaits.’ She grasped her slender fingers around Bella’s hand, and Bella felt an exquisite shiver envelope her.
Bella placed the hot mug of tea on the circular coffee table in front of the real estate agent. She lifted her eyes to meet his while the briefest of smiles appeared at the corners of her lips. ‘Cookie?’ she said, offering a plate of biscuits to him.
He shook his head and picked up the steaming mug before him. ‘No thank you. Tea is just what I need, it’s so cold out.’ His gaze fell to the cold oil heater in the corner of the room.
Bella followed his gaze. ‘Oh,’ she laughed a little too loud. ‘It’s broken … we … I haven’t got around to having it fixed yet.’
She squared her chin. She wasn’t about to admit just how dire their financial situation was. Truth was, she struggled enough to pay the mortgage repayments and bills for the family home, and she couldn’t afford the added expense of a new heater. Or even to repair this old dusty thing.
Mr Adams considered her with a sympathetic smile. ‘Are you certain that you’d like to go ahead and list your home, Bella?’ he said, regarding the quivering fingers that rested in a tangle in her lap.
She could only nod. She had little choice now.
‘And your mother? She is sure …?’
Bella swallowed and breathed in deep, trying to curb the irritation that began to creep up on her. She cleared her throat. ‘Mr Adams,’ she began.
‘Craig,’ he interjected with a grin.
‘Craig, my mother and I have discussed this thoroughly. We cannot continue the upkeep of our house on the small wages I draw from working at the aquatic centre. Medical bills are piling up … and that is only just the start. Should I go on?’ the pitch of her voice raised a notch as she fought hard to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. There, I said it! she thought glumly.
Craig looked down into his own tea. He encircled the length of his long fingers around the hot mug as if the steaming ceramic cup might be enough to keep the chill from invading his bones. He nodded slowly and looked up. ‘I’m sorry,’ his voice faltered. ‘Would you like to show me around the property now?’
When they rose, his tall figure towered over her like a willowy tree. I feel like a weed next to this guy, Bella mused, while leading him through the urban terraced house that rested snug between its neighbouring counterparts. As she reached the only bedroom she had ever known, a wave of nostalgia flooded over her. She was going to miss this house. Her parents had moved into the townhouse shortly before she was born. ‘A new home for a new baby,’ they’d often chirp when reminiscing. She had spent hours finding hiding spots between the nooks and crannies of the three-storey dwelling so she would be fully prepared when her best friend, Emma, would come to play.
She sighed heavily as her eyes lingered over the ornate Victorian styled cornices that decorated her bedroom ceiling.
Craig took in the timber four-post bed and the matching pieces of furniture that housed a cluttering stash of handcrafted sculptures. ‘So graceful and elegant.’ He gestured towards the vast space.
She wrapped her arms around her chest, clutching her knitted cardigan tightly around herself as she beheld the swirls and contours of white ceiling roses.
‘They were my inspiration,’ she said, gesturing to the roses. Her smile was whimsical as she twisted the ends of her honey-blonde hair.
Craig tamed a long brown curl behind his ear and watched her closely. ‘Inspiration for what?’ he said.
Her smile broadened. ‘I’ll show you,’ she said.
She snapped around on her heels and headed for the door where she paused long enough to glance over her shoulder to him. ‘C’mon, this way. To the best part of this house!’
She led him outside and under grey clouds that hung gaunt and threatening over a small courtyard. They followed a moss-filled pavement that weaved to its end before a miniature cottage. Bella opened the door and stood back to allow him to enter first. She noticed th
e deep intake of breath he drew when he took in his surroundings.
‘Wow, Bella! These are all yours?’ he asked while taking tentative steps closer to the rowed shelves of sculptures. He spun around to look at her, yet when he spoke it was almost to himself. ‘And the sculptures in your bedroom …’
There were angels upon angels upon more angels; each one of them unique. Their features and wings were painstakingly etched in detail and painted with the tips of fine brushes. Some were elegant and mystical, others chubby and cheeky looking – all lovingly created and breathtaking.
Bella caught the ends of her hair in a twist. ‘Yeah,’ she mumbled. Not many people had seen her work.
Craig looked impressed. ‘All of this seems so familiar to me … you seem familiar to me,’ he said absently.
Her brows pleated. ‘Ummm … in what way?’ she said.
He shook his head with a quick squeeze of his eyes. ‘The angels … You.’ He studied her for a long moment before the smile appeared again. ‘Never mind. Do you display these in a gallery?’ he said.
‘Uh, no. I don’t show them to anyone. I’m not sure they are quite good enough.’ She walked deeper into the small room and perched on the pottery stool.
‘Oh, they are good enough, Bella,’ he said. ‘Tell you what, I might know a place that may be interested in your sculptures. Would you like me to make some enquires?’
Her face brightened. ‘A gallery?’
‘Yep,’ he nodded.
‘Oh …’ She hesitated and looked at her angels. ‘I’m not sure. Can I give it some thought?’
His eyes rested on a stash of empty chocolate bar wrappers littering the far corner of the bench top. ‘Sure … chocolate addiction, huh?’
A smile bloomed over her face. ‘I confess,’ she laughed.
He reached into a deep pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a chocolate bar. ‘Me too,’ he laughed and fiddled with the wrapper. ‘I always thought chocolate was better when shared. Want some?’ He broke the nutty bar in half and handed the portion to her.
She took the chocolate and bit into it. ‘So generous of you, thank you,’ she said between mouthfuls.
