Glimpse

by Renee Wakefield

  “Where the fuck is the boat?”

  What if I’m too late? What if they are dead already? I can’t bear to think about it.

  After driving for what feels like a million years the country house finally comes into view.

  There are no ambulances or police cars present, which I take as a good sign.

  The car has barely stopped before I’m out the door.

  Going on instinct I make a snap decision to run through the house, not around it. The decision makes sense in the moment. The entrance is right in front of me. They could still be inside. However the second I am in the house I regret my choice. The place is a mess.

  I run from room to room searching for the rabbits, although deep down I know they are not in here. What I really need to find is the exit.

  Getting back outside shouldn’t be a problem, except the house is enormous. Rooms are dark and the music is loud. There are people in animal costumes everywhere, engaged in all kinds of activities. Most are dancing and stumbling about. Some are drinking, some having sex, some doing drugs and others doing God knows what. Things I can’t even process. The question of what Old Ellie would have made of all this flickers across my mind. I am sure the party would have a very different feel, being knee-deep in it, on the other side. Viewing it as I am though, sober and anxious, the party feels decidedly seedy with a somewhat sinister vibe.

  As I feared, the rabbits are nowhere to be seen. Worse still I am lost, struggling to find my bearings. There must be a way out. Every second I waste feels like another step closer to my friends’ doom. My search becomes increasingly frantic. I have to get out of here.

  The Angry Pig emerges from the boat shed cradling a spotlight.

  “Chill out,” the Sexy Cat tells him. “No one would have been stupid enough to go out on the lake. Surely.”

  The Pig flicks on the light. It emits a powerful white beam.

  “Then where’s the boat?”

  He shines a light across the surface of the water, searching.

  Virginia has a beautiful calm sensation running from her the tip of head to points of her toes. It’s mildly euphoric and immensely pleasurable. Neither she nor Bear nor Buckley has said anything for a long time. Even so, she knows they are feeling the same thing. Maybe it’s because no one has spoken that she knows. Blissfully in sync.

  A slight flicker catches her attention, barely noticeable through the limiting eyeholes of the mask.

  “Look. A light.”

  She and Buckley turn from their sitting positions, their reactions slow and muted.

  “What do you think it is?”

  Rabbit Bear stands to look. Standing definitely isn’t the best idea in this little vessel. Especially someone of his size, in the condition he is in. Bear overbalances and falls forward. He tries to correct, leaning back and swinging his arms in wild circles. He only succeeds in capsizing the boat.

  Splash!

  The three rabbits go into the water. They struggle to the surface. Full of panic. Splashing madly. The rabbit costumes quickly become waterlogged and ridiculously heavy, dragging them down.

  They scream for help. Their voices muffled by the water and the masks.

  “Help! Help us!”

  “Please! Someone!”

  The three of them flail desperately. They quickly start to lose the battle.

  35

  The muffled yells and splashing of the three rabbits can be made out across the water.

  A small crowd of people gather at the pier. Like a ripple passing through, the party’s festive, excited atmosphere begins to shifting to one of concern. Several of the guests have removed their animal masks.

  The Angry Pig waves the light from side to side in an increasingly frantic search. They can hear them, why can’t they find them?

  Finally, I locate the exit. I bolt from the house and down to the lake, following the noise.

  I see the crowd at the pier and the light skimming the surface of the water and I know the rabbits have gone.

  Oh God, please don’t let me be too late.

  Rushing past the people I charge out into the lake without a second thought. Fully clothed. The guests all watch me go.

  I dive into the water and start to swim. I swim furiously, with all my might.

  Virginia, Bear and Buckley struggle and strain in the water. They scramble for the rowboat’s upturned hull. Rabbit Bear and Rabbit Buckley manage to cling on. Rabbit Virginia tries but the hull is wet and slimy. She slips off. She attempts to call for help. Her mouth fills with water.

  “Virginia! Virginia!” Bear screeches. It’s no good.

  Under her rabbit mask Virginia coughs and splutters and slowly sinks. She reaches upwards, the surface becoming further and further away.

  All seems lost… when someone appears above her.

  Ellie.

  I dive down through the murky water. I can see the rabbit sinking. I grab Virginia by the hand and desperately pull her back to the surface. She is ridiculously heavy. It is the first time in her life Virginia has ever been heavy. I will have to tell her that later. When we make it. When we are all safe.

  I manage to surface with Virginia. I guide her back towards the upturned hull.

  Bear is panicking. “Ginny! Virginia!” Then he sees us. “Oh God, Ellie?”

  Buckley turns. “Ellie?”

  “You two wait here,” I instruct the boys. “I’m going to take Ginny. I’ll be back.”

  I float Virginia on her back and tuck her under my arm. My plan is simple. I’ll swim Virginia back, and return for the other two. It won’t be easy. I’m confident in my swimming though.

  What I fail to factor in is Bear. I forget how much Bear hates water. He is okay with the kiddie pool at his place because it only comes up to his ankles. That’s about it though.

  “Ellie, no! Don’t leave me! I can’t swim!” Consumed by wild panic, Bear launches himself off the hull.

  “Bear! No!” I hear Buckley yell. It’s my only warning. Bear lands heavily on my back.

  It’s a miracle the three of us don’t go under for good. For a moment we sink, a mess of thrashing limbs and wet fur. Somehow I manage to resurface with both of them.

  “I can’t swim! I can’t swim!”

  I guide Virginia and Bear back to the hull.

  “Bear! Calm down!” Buckley yells.

  Even though it is difficult to make out much through his rabbit suit it is clear Bear is anything but calm.

  “It’s okay, Bear,” I tell him. “Calm. I can take you too, but you need to relax.”

  “No, Ellie.”

  “It’s all good, Bucks. You just hold on. I can’t lose you. Bear, lie on your back, like Virginia.”

  I do my best to balance my voice somewhere between calm and firm. Bear is hesitant. Eventually, he does as he is told. I tuck Bear under one arm and Virginia under the other and swim. It’s a little like swimming with a kickboard, only using your legs… Okay, it’s not really like that at all. I manage though. I can feel Buckley’s eyes on me, watching me go.

  Kicking through the water with two sopping rabbits is long, slow, arduous work. Bear is too heavy. What’s worse he is an awkward counter to Virginia on my other side who is so light. I can’t do this. There is no way I can make it. Yet, I have to make it, so I toil on. My chest burns, my legs feel like they are on fire. I manage to shove the pain to one side. Saving my friends, my loved ones, is something I have to do. Failure is not an option. And so, on I go. Fortunately Bear stays relatively still. He even manages to kick his legs a little which make the whole process marginally easier.

  After what seems like an eternity the pier finally comes into view. As we approach, the light finds us. Several guests splash out into the water to help. They grab Virginia and Bear and pull them to safety.

  Puffing and panting I turn and head straight back out.

  Buckley struggles to maintain his grip on the rowboat. The hull is too slippery, especially with the additional limitation of costume
paws in place of hands.

  He slips but manages to grab back on. He thinks he is okay. He is not. Without warning, he slips again. He scrambles desperately. It’s no good.

  He sinks into the murky depths.

  My breathing is ragged as I arrived back at the upturned boat, struggling to catch my breath. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to locate the hull again. That wasn’t an issue.

  “Buckley?… Buckley!”

  Desperation grips me. I can’t see him. There’s only one way he could have gone. Down.

  I dive beneath the surface, refusing to acknowledge my mounting exhaustion. I swim about. The moonlight helps me see beneath the surface. There is no sign of him. I want to just keep swimming and swimming until I locate him. This is futile. I can’t breathe.

  Begrudgingly I come back to the surface. I gulp in a huge breath, telling myself it is okay and to relax. This is it. I have to find him. I can’t lose Buckley. Not now.

  I dive again. One last desperate effort. As the expression goes, find him or die trying.

  The water is cold. Quiet. Peacefully calm. Finally, I spot the happy bunny rabbit costume. I swim down and grab him. He doesn’t react or try to help. I swim with all my might. He doesn’t move.

  He’s caught. His leg entangled.

  I go up for air once more. A quick breath and back down. There’s a tranquillity below the water, despite the situation. I swim towards the eerily still rabbit.

  A warning goes off in my brain. Too hard. Too far. Too much. Pull back. I don’t. I keep going.

  I yank desperately at his leg, finally managing to free him.

  I swim upwards with Buckley, every ounce of me throbbing with exhaustion. I ignore the pain. I have to go on.

  We break the surface. Calm, refreshing air bursts into my lungs.

  As with Virginia and Bear, I float Buckley on his back, put an arm around his neck and I am on my way. In theory, this should be easier than with Bear and Virginia. There is only one of Buckley and I have a free arm to swim with. The problem is I am utterly spent. Every stroke from my arm is slower than the last. My feet kick less and less. We make little headway.

  I can’t do it. I want to. Desperately. I keep trying. It’s no good. I simply can’t. It’s too difficult.

  “Sorry… Bucks. I… I’m sorry.” I’m breathing so hard I can barely get the words out.

  We stop moving forward. For a moment we float. Except even that is too challenging. Slowly, inevitably, we begin to sink.

  The last of my energy goes into striving to keep Buckley from going under. If he goes down, I am going down. I am not sure how long I can keep us above water. Not long. Seconds at best.

  Torchlight splashes over us. A voice calls from nowhere.

  “Anyone else?”

  Another small rowboat appears. This one the right way up. Two guys inside. They pull Buckley and me into their boat.

  “Any more?”

  I barely have the energy to respond. “No… Please… Please help him.”

  The boat races back to shore. One of our rescuers removes Buckley’s rabbit mask, while the other mans the paddles. Buckley is not in a good way. Please don’t die, Buckley. Please.

  I do my best to catch my breath. I can’t. I can’t inhale at all, except for jagged gulps. My chest is about to burst.

  The boat arrives at the pier. At least I think that is where we are. My eyes don’t want to focus. The two guys in the boat are yelling. People on the pier yell back. They drag Buckley out. I try to stand, temporarily forgotten in the ensuing chaos.

  I can’t breathe. My vision blurs.

  I attempt to get myself out of the boat. It doesn’t go well. I can’t see the pier properly. I miss my footing and fall. The sensation is one of slow motion. I tumble backwards through the air before splashing into the water.

  This part of the lake isn’t nearly as deep. It’s deep enough. I sink under the surface, the cold water surrounding me. I don’t have the energy to right myself or save myself.

  There is nothing else I can do. I have nothing left.

  Lights shimmer above me, refracted through the water. Until they fade away and everything becomes black.

  36

  It’s all very strange. One minute I’m not there and everything is black. The next thing I am.

  I observe people I don’t know urgently try and revive me on the shore of the lake. It takes a moment for me to work out why this feels so strange. I am hovering over them, watching them attempt to rouse me. It’s similar to the end of the hypnosis, when I was watching in Brenda’s office, refusing to return to my body. They don’t seem to be having much luck reviving me.

  I drift away. I’m not concerned about myself. It’s Ginny and Bear and Buckley I’m worried about. Especially Buckley.

  Virginia and Bear are unmasked and appear fine. Blankets draped around their shoulders. They seem shaken but okay. Alive.

  Buckley though…

  Buckley lies very still on the ground. He hasn’t moved. His eyes shut. One of the guys from the rescue boat alternatively pounds on his chest and breathes into his mouth. Buckley doesn’t respond at all. Things aren’t looking good.

  “Come on, Buckley. Please.”

  I hover over my beautiful boyfriend. While the guy resumes pounding on his chest I kiss Buckley. A gentle, soft, loving kiss.

  There is so much I want to say to him, so much I need to tell him. Instead, I opt for something very simple in the hope it says it all.

  “I love you.”

  For a moment nothing happens. I stare down at him, wondering what comes next.

  Then Buckley stirs. His whole body jitters, followed by a splutter. His head tilts and he regurgitates a large stream of water. This is followed by an intense coughing fit. He appears to be all right.

  The guy who was reviving him jumps and high fives everyone in the vicinity like he’s just won a golf tournament.

  I take a moment to observe the gathering. It’s an odd assortment of partial animal costumes and formal gear.

  Floating about is quite pleasant. Incredibly light, especially compared with dragging myself and the rabbits through the water. I glance over to where I am lying on the ground. I haven’t moved. Those around me have given up hope. A couple of the people I don’t know shrug and exchange sad looks. Someone pulls a blanket over my head.

  Everything dissolves into a white nothing.

  For a moment or two, I am nowhere. Lost in a sea of nothing.

  When I re-emerge, it takes a few moments for me to realise where I have appeared. I am in a room. There is a table and some chairs in front of me. Two people sit at the table, a man and a woman. The woman with her back to me. I know this place. The man… It’s Andrew. I am at The Royal Arms. That must be me sitting at the table talking to Andrew. This is our meeting earlier.

  “Andrew.” He’s not looking at me. “Andrew.”

  He turns, staring straight through me. Can he see me? I have to tell him. This is important.

  “Andrew, I did it. I saved them. It was all for a reason.”

  He can see me. I know he can. Yet he remains perfectly still. He doesn’t react in any way. Not even the slightest flicker of recognition.

  “Andrew. I did it. I saved Buckley. They didn’t die. The rabbits.”

  Nothing. His eyes drift away and settle on the live me chatting away at the table. He needs to know this. I have to make him understand. I’m not sure why. It seems important.

  The universe becomes fuzzy. I experience what feels like tingles throughout my body, even though my body is gone. Somewhere completely different in space and time. An overwhelming feeling of contentment accompanies the tingles. I am so pleased. I did it. I saved Buckley.

  Everything dissolves away again and I can’t see Andrew anymore.

  37

  Sitting at their table, at The Royal Arms, Andrew does what comes naturally. What he has worked hard and trained himself to do. He pays no attention to the dead Ellie standing behind the li
ve one. No attention at all.

  “Is any of this… Does that… Does that make some kind of sense to you?” the alive Ellie asks.

  Behind her, the wet version fades away.

  “Andrew?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

  Disappointment soaks Ellie’s face. She lingers, looking at Andrew. Hoping for something else. She gets nothing.

  “Okay, I guess. If that’s how you feel.”

  Ellie gets to her feet and walks out, leaving Andrew alone.

  Ellie steps out of the Royal Arms. Andrew manages to catch her before she is gone.

  “Ellie…”

  He strides up to her, at a loss as to what to say. She waits.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry I can’t help you.” His voice is sincere. His face contorted by sadness.

  Ellie studies Andrew for a moment then surprises him with a loving hug. One of the few hugs of Andrew’s life.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “You’ve done so much. I never intended to make things harder for you.”

  The hug lingers for a long time before they pull apart. When they do, Ellie holds Andrew’s hand. He still wants to say something. The words are not there.

  “I… You’re a good person, Ellie. Good luck.”

  “Thank you.” She smiles warmly at him. “You are right by the way. It’s time. No more running. I can’t hide from these rabbits forever. I’m going home.”

  She gives him a cheeky smile. “See? I do listen. Sometimes.”

  The smile lingers as she moves away. Andrew holds onto her hand until the last possible moment, then he watches her go, alone once again.