Ariel's Charm

by Marnie Lester

  A small group of dilapidated cottages stood across the road from the orphanage. One day, while gazing out the window, Ariel saw an elderly man emerge from a taxi. He was clutching several assorted bags. His short, slightly hunched frame gave him an appearance of frailty. As he straightened up he placed a hand in the small of his back as if it pained him. He looked around, his eyes seemed to turn up toward the window and for just a moment Ariel thought that he had seen her. Gasping, Ariel stepped back 15 from the window. Slowly he approached one of the cottages and placing his bags on the porch, he fumbled in his pockets for a few moments searching for something and finally, after trying every pocket, he found what he was looking for and produced a key.

  The cottage that he was moving into had stood empty for at least a year. The entire orphanage was woken one night by a series of screams followed by the howl of police sirens. A short time later someone had been carried outside on a stretcher covered by a sheet. This startling event caused a flurry of gossip among the children. Had someone been murdered? Did they take their own life? Was it an old person who simply died? The excitement of this event lasted for some time. The lack of interesting things in the children’s lives made them grasp at any new and unusual event. The children sensed that something terrible had happened in that cottage and thereafter began to weave tales that gradually became more bloodthirsty and terrifying. Eventually even this became tiresome, the grimness of their own reality could make any horror story seem bland.

  Now, at last, it appeared as though this sad cottage had a new tenant. Ariel stared at the dirty brown cottage, its chipped and ragged picket fence looked like a row of broken teeth. She wondered if the old man’s furniture was still coming. She had not seen a furniture van outside the house. For a moment she felt sad for the old man and wondered how someone could reach his age with only a few possessions stuffed into an assortment of bags. It occurred to her that one day she could find herself in a very similar position, living in a dark, grim environment with almost no possessions and no family. She understood that this man’s life could be the future that awaited her. Ariel was determined that, somehow, someway she would not let this happen to her!

  A few days later, when the weather had cleared, the children were granted another walk to the park. Ariel and the others knew that this was only because the level of noise coming from the small side yard had caused Mrs. Blackwell to scream out the window. The children all froze as they heard the window of her office fly up on its sash.

  ‘Miss Jarvis, take them to the park before I go completely mad!’

  Miss Jarvis was the youngest and kindest supervisor; she quickly collected all the children and ushered them out the side gate. Within five minutes the small group arrived at the park. The younger children raced each other to the small group of swings. The swing-set was not a gaily painted inviting amusement (the type likely to be found in parks in the more affluent part of town) but instead each swing consisted of a badly worn wooden seat suspended from rusty chains that creaked as they moved. The older group, including Ariel, assembled to play a game of baseball. The old worn ball that they guarded with their lives looked miserable compared to some that Ariel had seen in pictures. The dull red stitching was almost completely unraveled and the white leather casing was now a dark grey. As they did not own a baseball bat one of the children was usually sent around the park to find a suitable tree branch that would serve the purpose.

  This day it was Ariel’s turn. As she wandered the park her eyes passed over the heat scorched, scraggly grass seeking a solid tree branch. Picking up and discarding sticks of various sizes, her downcast eyes suddenly met a scuffed pair of men’s loafers. She had not realised that she had wandered so close to the park’s boundaries where the rusted iron benches sat. Looking up Ariel saw the old man whom she had seen moving into the cottage across the street from the orphanage. He was sitting on a park bench and gazing at her through twinkling blue eyes. He wore a bright smile that, unconsciously, Ariel found herself returning. She checked her facial expression, remembering it was probably not wise to be too friendly with strangers. She spotted a sturdy looking branch lying next to the bench. Ariel knew she would have to approach the man to get it.

  She smiled slightly then murmured.

  ‘Good morning, sir.’ She bent to retrieve the branch.

  Her head shot up in a hurry when the man replied.

  ‘Hello, Ariel.’

  Staring at the man, her jaw hanging open, she noticed that his twinkling blue eyes were kind.

  Her heart hammering in her chest as she responded.

  ‘How do you know my name?’

  She had often heard stories from Mrs. Blackwell about bad men who wanted young girls for evil purposes. Ariel, somehow, instinctively knew that these stories that Mrs. Blackwell told were based on some truth. Ariel was too young to realise that (as an orphan herself) Mrs. Blackwell’s suspicions probably came from hard learned experience. She was a lady who looked at everyone and everything as if they presented a physical threat to her.

  The old man smiled benignly at Ariel.

  ‘Why, I know a lot about you, young Ariel. I knew your parents and I have been searching for you for a long time.’

  Ariel stared at him trying to determine if she had heard him correctly. For a moment time stood still. Her ears rang and she could feel her heart miss a beat. It seemed incredible to her that someone in the world had known the people she did not. Her mind raced with a thousand questions.

  She did not know that her conversation with the old man was being watched by another pair of eyes, their malevolent intent cold and clear. In a distant land an evil being screamed with rage. It seemed that the child they believed was no longer a threat now may return to their world.

  As she had her back to the other children she could not see that Marco closely watched the interaction between her and the old man, his expression unreadable.

  Studying her for a few moments the old man continued.

  ‘My name is Reynaldo. I know that you have many questions. If you are able come to my house one day soon, Ariel, I will explain what I can; there is much you need to know.’

  After making this extraordinary statement the old man rose and left the park. Ariel stood motionless with the branch still clutched in her hand, until a voice from behind her called out.

  ‘Hey, Ariel. Are you bringing that bat today or not?’

  Ariel turned and ran back to the other children. The voice belonged to her friend, Marco, who at fourteen had been given a position of respect by the other children. So it was up to him to choose sides before they could begin their game. Ariel knew that her heart was not in the game as she repeatedly dropped catches and struck out each time she batted. Her recent encounter with the old man kept playing over and over in her mind.

  Reynaldo slowly walked back to his cottage. The young, frightened face of the girl, whom he had sought for so long, stayed in his mind. He had not known how to make himself known to her without alarming her or putting himself in a compromising position. The short time he had been in this world showed him that unfamiliar people were automatically treated with fear and suspicion. Yet when he had seen the group of children leaving the grim looking building across the street he knew that he must seize the opportunity to speak to her. The hard looking two storey red brick building came into view as he approached the cottage that he had leased on learning that Ariel was a ward in the orphanage. He thought back to the unmistakable expression of pain in the eyes of the girl whom he had travelled so far to save. Although his current quarters left a lot to be desired, the building that had been Ariel’s home for most of her life looked more like a prison than a home for children. The barred windows, high surrounding brick wall and sturdy iron gates added to this impression.

  It had been six very long seasons since Reynaldo had begun his search for Ariel. Six seasons in a world that he had not known existed. A world that he viewed as hostile and ugly when compared to his home. It had been a despera
te attempt to save the lives of Ariel’s parents that had motivated the choice of location. It was such a remote, isolated world that the chances of them being detected here seemed minimal. They were wrong. They had been detected and Ariel had paid a heavy price for their lack of foresight. He shook his head as he slowly ambled back to the dismal cottage in which he currently lived; his body aching in a way formerly unknown to him and giving him a conscious reminder that this world carried such negative energy that he needed to get Ariel away from here as soon as possible.

  Chapter 3

  Over the next two weeks Ariel could not stop thinking about what Reynaldo had told her. She was not completely ignorant of the ways of the world. Part of her realised how foolish it would be to assume that no harm could come to her from going to the home of a stranger. Growing up in this part of Carrolltown Ariel had seen and heard things that made her world inside Riverview feel safe. The regular howl of police sirens and the occasional sound of gunfire made clear to her the reality of a world filled with potential danger. But how did this man know her name and how had he known her parents? These questions repeated themselves over and over in her mind. Finally she knew that if she did not take a chance and trust her instincts, she would regret it for the rest of her life. It became vitally important for her to find a way to escape the orphanage to go and see him.

  As days passed she examined every possibility of escape. Finally she decided that her best chance would be to scale the brick wall in the play-yard using the garbage cans to boost her up and over the wall. The question of how to do this with a supervisor present made her reluctant to try it. The only person whom she had confided in was Marco and she swore him to secrecy. As the two had often shared confidences she knew that she could trust Marco to keep his word.

  It came unexpectedly. One afternoon, shortly after the start of their play hour, the opportunity presented itself. Marco and Ariel were standing in the corner near the garbage cans quietly discussing how to distract the supervisor, Mrs. Pendleton. This lady was a particularly sharp supervisor, who ran to Mrs. Blackwell regularly with any misdemeanor that the children committed. The violations could be as trivial as looking at her in a way that she perceived as insolent. This particular misdemeanor was the most common that was reported to Mrs. Blackwell. Physically, Mrs. Pendleton was the complete opposite of Mrs. Blackwell. Where Mrs. Blackwell was all sharp angles, Mrs. Pendleton was soft and round. Her rosy cheeks and warm auburn hair gave her the appearance of a motherly figure. However her resemblance to Mrs. Blackwell was in ways other than physical. The two women shared a natural suspicion and resentment of the children who were under their care.

  Two of the younger children who had been chasing each other around the small yard came to an abrupt and noisy halt. The chaser had tripped over one of the oak tree’s protruding roots and flown headlong into the wall. The screams that followed were piercing as the boy nursed his bleeding scalp and bruised knees. Mrs. Pendleton bustled over and slapped him to silence his cries. She seized his collar and dragged him into the building, firstly cautioning the other children to behave or she would be forced on her return to go straight to Mrs. Blackwell. The children exchanged glances knowing Mrs. Pendleton did not need a particular reason to report their behavior.

  ‘Ariel, go!’

  Aided by Marco’s sudden cry, Ariel saw her chance.

  She leapt onto the garbage cans and pulled herself onto the top of the brick wall. Glancing back she saw the other children standing open-mouthed at her boldness. She knew that none of them would run for a supervisor; the creed of “us against them” was too ingrained in them to betray it. She first checked that nobody was present on the street, then she levered herself over the wall and, dangling by her fingertips, she dropped to the ground below. Her ankles jarred as her sneakered feet hit the hard pavement. For a moment she paused. This was her first time outside the orphanage on her own and every sight and sound seemed threatening. The noise that was normally muffled by walls was suddenly much more real. People shouted constantly, street hawkers touted their wares in full voice while consumers haggled over prices. Dogs barked and dirty street urchins laughed and yelled excitedly as they played games with no more than their own imaginations as toys. The smell of exhaust fumes accosted her and a car horn blared making her jump back in fear as she attempted to step onto the road.

  An inner voice told her not to be silly. After all, she was not five years old. Within moments Ariel found herself on the small wooden porch outside his front door. She glanced down noticing several large holes where the boards had rotted. A fleeting thought passed through her mind — she wondered how a man as elderly and frail looking as Reynaldo navigated this dangerous walkway. Again she hesitated. What if it had all been a trick to lure her to his house? The inner voice spoke again reminding her of the feeling of comfort and safety that she had felt in his presence. She moved from one foot to another, the boards under her feet creaking in protest as she argued with herself. Finally, she lifted her hand to knock.

  Only then did she notice that the door was ajar. Gently she pushed it open and called;

  ‘Hello.’

  A voice responded immediately.

  ‘Come in Ariel. I’ve been waiting for you.’

  Slowly, she walked down the short hallway to where Reynaldo’s voice had come. She could see the hall opening into a sunless room ahead of her and she hesitated. Her heart was pounding in her chest as a voice in her mind told her to “turn back, now!” Strengthening her resolve she continued walking. She found herself in the cottage’s small grimy kitchen where Reynaldo was seated at a rickety table. Large damp stains covered most of the walls and a hangover stench of a thousand cooked meals hung in the air. Ariel looked at Reynaldo, at his shabby threadbare trousers and frayed shirt and again wondered how this man could be connected to her parents. He motioned her to sit on the only other chair. Ariel lowered herself carefully into the unsteady looking chair. The two sat quietly looking at each other and finally Reynaldo spoke, his voice slightly hoarse as if he was overcome with emotions that, as yet, she did not understand.

  Chapter 4

  ‘I know I probably shocked you with the way that I spoke to you in the park.’ Reynaldo shrugged his shoulders then continued. ‘However, I could think of no other way to make myself known to you.’

  ‘How did you know my parents?’ Ariel burst out.

  ‘So, you are straight to the point, eh? Very well then, Ariel. I will tell you the whole story as best as I can, however, I ask only your patience and to keep an open mind.’

  Ariel wondered what could be so complicated that he described it as the, whole story. Reynaldo closed his eyes for a moment as if seeing something long forgotten and then he began to speak.

  ‘Your parents and I come from a place called Walhalla. I knew your father all of his life and I was the most trusted member of his household.’

  ‘Did you work for them? Is that what you’re saying?’ Ariel asked perplexed, her forehead wrinkling slightly.

  ‘Were you a servant or something?’

  ‘Servant is not a word that is recognised in our world.’ Reynaldo paused to gauge the effect of his words, his remarkable blue eyes intense as if willing her to understand. ‘Technically, the role I filled was more of a companion to your father.’

  ‘What do you mean “our world”? Do you mean you and my parents came from another country?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Taking a breath, he continued. ‘Ariel, you must understand the reality you are familiar with is only one of many.’

  For a few moments Ariel stared at him in confusion. What did he mean by “her reality”? Part of her wondered if this man could be trusted. Her heart began to pound in her chest and Ariel suddenly regretted coming. She needed to know more. Clearly this man had known her parents and she knew that she would not rest until she found out how. Ariel had spent too many years longing for this link with her past to turn her back on it now. Yet his reference to different realities puzzle
d her enormously.

  ‘What? Are you saying that I am from outer space or something?’

  Reynaldo smiled at her question.

  ‘No. That is an earth-based fantasy. I am talking about other dimensions and other realms. Walhalla is one of these other realms.’

  Ariel sat in silence. She was confused by his terms and the utterly incredible information she was hearing. She remembered the story books that she had read; the rich, fantastic world of Captain Hook and the lost boys from Peter Pan sprang into her mind. Part of her mind knew that these were story books and quite different from the real world. As the words passed through her mind she hesitated. Was it possible for a totally different world to exist? At that moment it occurred to her that her dreams of another world and her need to create such a world in her mind may have not been so incredible. This puzzlement must have shown on her face for she found Reynaldo gazing at her intensely as if trying to read her mind. The only other sound in the room was the ticking of a small alarm clock sitting alone on the mantel.

  ‘So why am I living here if I came from this Walhalla place?’ Ariel asked, still trying to process the possibility of other worlds existing apart from the only one she had ever known.