by D. S. Elstad
Seconds felt like hours as I held my stare on the ebony mist drawing closer to my bed. The urge to close my eyes and scream almost took over but I found myself unable to do either. The paralysis encapsulated my whole body. A soft rustle from Dad’s bed caused the form to hold its position and gave me the motivation I needed to quickly look over to him. His back was facing me, but I could hear from his breathing that he was in a deep sleep. Turning my head back slowly I found myself face to face with the ghostly presence. It quickly shot out a ribbon of mist that began tracing the lines of my face. The body of the mist was on top of me and I could make out images floating through it, distorted images, distant images, impossible to discern…deep within the mist now swirling about my head, touching my face with its ribbons of gray.
The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood erect. A tingling sensation swept through every cell of my body, followed by a tremendous sense of heat. The gray ribbon shapes started to feel like fingers dancing across my cheeks and forehead, barely touching, just enough for me to be aware of contact. It was hypnotic, almost anesthetizing. The warmth became subdued as a new awareness of voices filled my ears. Just like the images, the voices too were distant, foreign to me, another language, chanting something that had a remarkable effect.
As I slipped into a sort of catatonic state, a strange picture floated across my field of vision. Unable to discern whether my eyes were closed or open anymore, I tried to reach up to touch my own face, but couldn’t lift or even feel my arms. All that was left of me was this random thought process floating around in space. A very small transient part of my being still held on in spite of the overwhelming urge to let go.
Then I heard a faint distant voice. “Willow, Willow, you must resist.”
After the voice spoke, the strange picture once again floated across my field of vision. The shape was moving, shifting, changing. It began to take on traces of color. Subtle shades. Gradually an unmistakable image formed; my grandmother. The grandmother I’d never met and had only seen in photographs. She stood in front of me as if in front of a black hole, surrounded by darkness, her shape pulsating and stretching, at times taking on a distorted and frightening feel. She reached her arms out to me while her voice echoed the same sentence over and over again. “Willow, you must resist.” Her voice sped up and slowed down like an old-time record player, taking on an eerie haunting tone; a disembodied voice trapped in another dimension.
The sight and sound of my grandmother caused tremendous turmoil within my entire body. It wasn’t that I was just uncomfortable seeing and hearing her apparition; it was as though there was a struggle between two entities, and I wasn’t one of them.
While Grandma spoke, the extreme sensation of heat returned, along with the tingling. My body felt like a battleground. Her words and image took on the most distortion, while the mist that surrounded my body seemed to grow stronger. Along with its strength came my weakness, and Grandma’s vision and words slowly drifted away until all that was left was the darkness.
The haunting images from the mist began to return as did the chanting. I once again felt myself start to fall off the edge…to slip into oblivion. A very real sensation of falling down, down deep into darkness took me over.
Then I became aware of the smallest speck of light straight ahead. It was smaller than the tip of a pin, but within the canvas of blackness, it shown as bright as the brightest star. My focus shifted to it and within that a glimpse of awareness of who I was came back. And so did Grandma’s words. “Willow, you must resist.”
And resist I did. My mind filled with thoughts of myself and the people who mattered most to me. Their faces shone brightly in the dark abyss and it seemed as though I was coming back. But the mist’s hold over me was beyond strong. It felt impenetrable. My visions slowed down and I once again began the descent. The one vision I hadn’t allowed to show was of what I had become in the park. My shifted self. The mere thought of it in my head brought the vision before my eyes. I saw myself as the wolf, beautiful, agile and fast, running through the park as I had done that last time with my friends looking on. Watching myself as the wolf brought new strength. The chanting ceased but the hold continued. The image of the wolf once again shifted from that of observer to that of the wolf.
I looked out with new eyes. Eyes with instinct and power. I had no fear. The ribboned fingers of the mist began to pull back until they were once again part of the long-shadowed shape. I could feel the anomaly pull itself away from my face. And the strangest part was…I could feel fear within the shadow as it did. It shot itself back up against the wall and, in a flash, disappeared.
Once full consciousness found its way back to me I sat up, still focused on the spot that had just swallowed the mist. A need to touch the spot took over so I threw my feet over the side of the bed and let out a muffled yelp. I stared at the paws standing on the moonlit carpet of the hotel room floor. I was the wolf.
I padded my way over to the bathroom. Pulling my front paws up to rest on the counter I looked into the mirror. Even in the dimly lit room I could make out the frightening shape of a full-grown wolf staring back. Involuntarily, a small yip made its way out of my throat in reaction to seeing myself standing there in wolf form, just a few feet away from Dad.
I heard him rustle and clear his throat in the other room. Quickly I jumped down and nudged the door closed. I rose up once again and ran my paw over the light switch, turning on the two pendant lights overhead.
And there I stood. Unbelievable. Even though I’d seen myself in the reflection of the lake at the park, it was nothing like this. To be staring at myself in a mirror, in such human surroundings, was just that…unbelievable. I slowly turned my head and began studying the markings on my canine face. The gray and black fur also had traces of a rich umber shade that I hadn’t seen before. The color of my eyes was haunting. I could see my human eyes within them, only amplified. I had to admit it…..I was beautiful.
Then an involuntary reflex took over and had me sitting on the floor with my back leg extended, reaching up and scratching my itchy left ear. A low groan of satisfaction radiated from deep within my chest. I had to laugh at myself and prayed I wouldn’t need to do any licking. I once again jumped up to the vanity and surveyed the minute details of my transformed body. The sheen of the multi-colored fur coat; the sense of lightness…agility and power flowed through my every muscle and tendon. My vision was clear and full of color, unlike what I’d always heard about canines seeing in black and white. The shades I saw were more intense, more vibrant, than how I saw them while in human form.
The most outstanding change was my newfound sense of hearing. I lowered my body to the cool tile floor and lay down listening without any effort whatsoever to the many sounds that flooded my ear waves.
The first sound that I became aware of was that of my sleeping father. The deep inhalation and exhalation seemed close enough to be mistaken for my own breaths. As I let my hearing explore further, the sound of voices grew louder. I was even able to make out a conversation which seemed to be coming from the floor below us. I could hear the elevator door at the end of the hall, opening and closing. The whistle of the wind blowing through parts of the building was clear and distinct.
The first few moments of my sound exploration were overwhelming and caused my eardrums to feel full. Like I needed to yawn and pop them. As I challenged each new noise to make itself known, a sense of control came over me and I was able to put my entire focus on the sound in question, then move on to the next, without the burden of dealing with all of them at once. It was exhilarating. I found that, with enough concentration, I could distinguish sounds from outside, far outside. It felt as though the noises were miles away but so easy for me to hear.
I lay there on the floor marveling at myself and the incredible way I was feeling, stretching out my long limbs in front of me. I was in total control. Unafraid. It was me…Willow. Not something possessing me; it was me and it felt unbelievably awesome.<
br />
Then a random thought jumped into my brain and quickly reminded me where I was, asking the big question. How am I going to turn back? It just happened automatically before; would it do that now?
I stood up once again and tried to envision my human self in an effort to shift back. Nothing happened. The sound of Dad stirring in the next room sent a shock wave of urgency through my body. Whimpers sounded in my throat, to which Dad responded, “That you Wil? Everything ok?”
Oh my God, I thought. I tried to form words but was only able to muster a few more whimpers. If I didn’t answer him soon he’d surely get up to come see what was the matter. I fought the panic and pulled my mind back to the moments before I changed in an effort to see what may have triggered it. The fear of the mist had been strong, so was my reaction to seeing Grandma’s image floating in it.
I became aware of the sound of Dads feet on the carpet in the next room. “Willow, you there?” he asked, his voice tightening in worry.
The vision of myself running as the wolf was the last thing I remembered before I changed. I closed my eyes and pictured that image once again in my mind, as Dad’s footsteps grew closer. Opening my eyes I saw the same large paws resting on the tile floor. I hadn’t changed and I could now hear his hand on the doorknob. I pressed my body against the door then tightened my eyes and flashed on one more image. I could feel Dad exerting pressure, trying to come in. “Willow, are you ok?” he asked, his voice now sounding desperate.
“What the…” Dad gasped as he pushed the door open, sliding my body across the tile.
I kept my eyes closed, unsure of what to do. Should I run out? I most probably could get past him, but how would I open the door to get out of the room. I lay there planning my escape when I felt his hand on my head. My eyes squinted open and I discovered that my hands had reappeared and were resting on the green tile. I surveyed the rest of my body and found myself lying on the floor. I looked up at Dad and his troubled expression.
“I’m ok, Dad, sorry.” My voice came out raspy.
“What are you doing down there on the floor?” he asked as he took my elbow, helping me to my feet.
“I felt a little sick and thought if I laid down maybe it would pass.” From the sound of my scratchy voice I knew he’d believe me.
“You were sure making some strange noises in here. Did you throw up?” he questioned, leading me back to my bed.
“No; I tried though.” I remembered the whimpers and yips that forced their way out of my throat and thought how weird that must have sounded to him.
He got me a glass of water and tucked me back into bed, saying I’d better get some more rest. I looked at the clock and saw that it was now 5:30. The whole episode with the mist and my shifting had lasted almost three hours. I was shocked. It felt like it had passed so quickly.
Dad decided to stay up and go check on Grandpa at the hospital. At first I was nervous at the thought of being alone in the hotel room. Then the realization came that Dad had been there the whole time, and that hadn’t stopped the mist from trying to… whatever it was trying to do to me.
After Dad left I pulled the curtains closed and stood in the middle of the room, my mind frozen on the image I’d seen of Grandma. Looking around, I found the jacket I’d worn when Dad and I went to Grandpa’s house and reached into the pocket, pulling out the envelope addressed to me. I sat down on the bed and pulled the blankets up over my legs, all the while staring at the letter. I slipped my finger under the sealed edge, opening my long-lost mail.
My Dearest Willow,
Looking at my calendar today I realized you will be having a birthday soon. How I wish your grandfather and I could be there to celebrate it with you. You may not know this but every year since you were born I’ve sent you a birthday blessing. Unfortunately they always seem to find their way back to Ireland. Well, here’s hoping, this year, this one finds you.
There’s so much I want to share with you, Dear Willow. Our family is blessed with such an extraordinary history and I would love to pass it on to you personally. I pray that one day your father will make his way back to us here and allow us to become the family we’re meant to be. Until that day comes, know how much your grandfather and I love you. Even though we’ve never had the chance to meet I feel very close to you. For this, your thirteenth birthday:
May your thoughts be as glad as the shamrocks
May your heart be as light as a song
May each day bring you bright, happy hours
That stay with you all the year long
And so, my darling girl, consider yourself wrapped up in the blanket of your grandparent’s love and good wishes, and have yourself a wonderful birthday.
Hugs and kisses,
Your Grandma
A small four-leaf clover had been taped to the letter and framed by a hand-drawn heart. I smiled as I touched the clover, reading Grandmas blessing one more time out loud. I felt blanketed by her love. Reading her letter and having had her appear to me the way she did, I was reassured that she would be there to guide me. Even if she wasn’t there physically she was definitely there spiritually and emotionally. A new sense of confidence stirred deep within me.
I had chased the thing from my room and was perfectly able to do it again if I had to and I now realized what I needed to do to shift back and forth. The image in my mind was the key. To be the wolf, I had to imagine the wolf, running in the forest. To come back to myself, I had to imagine my human self, but I had to be running in my human form, as well, and the key seemed to be the forest…imaging the forest and myself in it. I wanted to try it – just to make sure that it was all as simple as that – but my desire to do anything other than sleep slipped away. I carefully folded the letter and tucked it into my backpack, then crawled back into bed. I drifted off into peaceful and much-needed slumber, devoid of any mists, or visions or dreams of any kind.
Chapter Eighteen
“What do you think it all means, Bram?” I asked, playing with the food on my plate and texting at the same time.
Bram’s eyes held tight onto mine before glancing around the small café. Only three other people sat eating their lunch but I knew he was uncomfortable going any further with our discussion. He shot a quick glance at the door and motioned for me to finish eating. I stuffed the last bite of salad into my mouth, then stood and followed him out.
We climbed into his black SUV and I quickly rolled down the window. The crisp air felt good against my skin. I leaned my head out and let the wind whip my hair around. Bram started the car but didn’t pull away from the curb. I looked over and fell prisoner to his stare. His lips turned up slightly. “You look amazing…wild and free.”
“You should’ve seen me this morning,” I laughed, remembering how I looked in the bathroom mirror. He broke into a chuckle and pulled out into the flow of traffic.
“Are you ok with going to the park? I need to go there for my da. It’ll be private so we can talk more.” He glanced over, and then began backing up the car.
I let the wind rush through my hair for a few seconds more before pulling my head back in and rolling up the window. Was I ok? I had an idea what we’d be doing there and, as curious as I was, a part of me was still apprehensive. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye to find him staring straight ahead at the road. I lifted my phone and answered his question.
He looked over, smiling, “Let’s do this then.”
Unlike our other trips to the park, there were people here this time, quite a few of them. It was midday and the park rangers were escorting groups of tourists around. We climbed out of the car and stared at the large crowds. Bram took hold of my hand and leaned in. “Looks a bit crowded today.”
I nodded, “Should we leave?”
“I know a spot where the guides don’t go; let’s head over there.” He kept hold of my hand and stepped in front, leading the way. He searched a trail map briefly, then nodded to the woodlands directly in front of us. The first mile was easy and took us p
ast groups and lone hikers. We followed a marker that veered off the beaten path. After another mile or so, we entered a much deeper part of the park. At that point Bram stopped and pulled a couple of bottles of water from his pack, handing me one. We sat on a fallen branch and drank for a few minutes.
“It’s about another four kilometers that way,” he said, pointing his bottle.
The woods were becoming dark with the denseness of the trees taking on a gloomy feel. It made me think of Snow White. I half-expected to see branches reaching out to grab us along with dwarves singing “Hi-ho.”
I inched closer to Bram. He put his arm around my shoulder in response. I looked into his eyes and found myself lost in his stare. The rustle of leaves overhead was enough to draw my attention to small birds flitting about above us. Bram looked up too. “Thanks a lot, you two.” He nodded in the direction of the swallows.
I laughed and stood up, reaching once more for his hand. He laced his fingers through mine and led me up a small incline. Once we were at the top I was able to make out what was left of a dilapidated building in the distance. Without a word we walked towards the building, kicking pebbles and pinecones along the way. Once we reached what had, at one time, been the doorway, Bram stopped and pulled out a compass. After studying it, he walked a few paces north then stared at the compass again and turned east. At least ten more paces took him to the edge of a large pine that had died long ago. He ran his shoe over the ground until he exposed a basketball-sized rock. He tugged at it, moving it aside. Then he pulled off his backpack and reached in, pulling out a small shovel.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I watched him drop the shovel to the ground.
