by Gavin Green
***
After a long afternoon spent with Brody and Kate, Jane finally got in her adored little Fiat and began the short drive home. Most of the day was devoted to sprucing up a cute house out on a quiet little road only a mile or so outside of Ballaghadaere.
She thought that while there weren't many rooms in that house, each was spacious and had nice views. [Doors] Apparently, the house was bought by Brody's cousin; the tall, quiet blonde man with a hint of western twang in his accent that she'd met a couple times. Jane overheard her sister and Brody talking about that relative arriving the next day, and how they'd have to get his visa sorted when they picked him up.
For the last weekend of January, the air was merely cool and the clouds only sporadic. Jane supposed the fair weather gave Brody good enough reason to go and double-check the conditions of the outbuildings of his kin's new place. [White door] She gladly tagged along, in part to see the property, but also because of her sister's fella. Jane thought Brody was always so relaxed, always ready for a smile, and genuinely interested in what she had to say. And that he was a fine thing didn't hurt matters, either, even if he was a tad too brawny for her liking.
More than anything else, though, Jane couldn't forget how Brody saved Kate and her mam from his bad kin, as well as gifted her with a nice car and a gorgeous guitar. [Two doors] Jane loved Brody, but wasn't in love with him; it was more like hero-worship, or having another older brother. Jane was a bit envious of Kate having such a good fella, but mostly she was happy for her.
Jane only wished she was so lucky. Her own new beau, Donal, wasn't like the airs he put on to get a date. Over the last month, he'd slowly shown himself as a bit of a gobshite and acting the maggot around her. Never complimentary, he'd always give pointers of how he thought something would be better, as if he had a clue.
Jane increasingly found Donal to be a gowl, especially in public; he'd try to untie her ponytail, preferring her hair down, or correct her statements. He even once falsely blamed her being pissed at him on her period to his mates. [One room, two doors] Donal had also started pressuring for sex, but Jane planned to keep herself pure - somewhat - until things felt right. With him being a gammy muppet, he was far from right.
Donal didn't even offer to join in and make himself a few bob when Jane told him of her plans for the day. In contrast, she'd helped him with simple chores before and without so much as a thank you. Jane planned to make Donal's release official soon enough. [Open the doors]
Pulling into the drive of her house, Jane wondered once again about the reoccurring dreams she'd been having; they'd begun to pervade her waking thoughts. Perhaps 'reoccurring' wasn't the correct word, but she used it to describe a number of similar sleeping visions that focused on doors over the last few weeks.
Whereas most people might find their own repeated dreams a bad portent of some kind, not so with Jane. Her door dreams came with a feeling of wonder and adventure, like she was on the verge of a fantastic discovery. She debated the concept that the dreams were symbolic of her hopeful singing career; maybe it meant that uni wasn't for Jane, and another door of possibilities awaited her.
Jane's parents were in front of the telly, which by their routine meant they'd soon be off to bed. They greeted her warmly - especially her da, although her mam was coming around - and asked how her day went. She told them all about the nice place and the big fields that surrounded it, but kept Brody's insistence of paying her to herself. [One door, then another] Jane knew that her parents felt he was too generous and his well would run dry soon enough. But her sister Kate, always level-headed, didn't show any concern.
When her mam asked, Jane assured them that she'd been fed; Brody's leftovers for lunch and Chinese takeout from the small village restaurant for tea. She eventually said her good-nights and then hurried upstairs to open her play room to make some notes in her journal.
The play room hadn't changed much lately, except for the sudden remembrance once she entered that her friend Gideon hadn't visited in a while. A few posters had been updated, continuing to change to reflect her moods. Likewise, the practice stage always had simplistic props coming and going at her whim.
Jane sat at her desk with the journal open to an empty page. She thought of how to describe the possible meanings of her dreams, but her eyes and mind kept drifting to the far wall at the other end of the room, which was devoid of decoration. Jane kept visualizing a door there, like an artist contemplating an empty canvas. Her mind kept superimposing a simple, narrow white door on the blank wall. The longer she visualized it, the stronger the urge built to draw another door.
With shallow breaths and her heart thumping from anxiety and excitement, Jane took a piece of chalk with trembling fingers and slowly walked to the wall.
As she drew the door from her dreams onto the wall with the lump of green chalk, questions ran franticly through her mind. What was on the other side? Where did it lead, if anywhere? Was this safe? Would it lead to Heaven, or hell? Was there yet another room beyond? What if it opened in outer space, and she was sucked into it?
Jane remembered the feeling of high adventure from her dreams, and her more fearful questions abated. She stepped back to look at her drawing. Despite shaking hands, the lines were straight and smooth. Jane took a deep breath to calm her nerves and focus her mind, dispelling erratic notions. She closed her eyes, hesitantly put a hand on that second door, and pushed it open.
Cool air wafted in, carrying a slight earthy scent. Jane immediately opened her eyes. The door had swung halfway open, revealing a virtually colorless landscape beyond. The white door's passage had been hampered by tall, dull wild grass, damp from a thick mist that softened the desolate scenery. A small patch of slender, pale trees stood nearby, their lower thin branches limp and bereft of foliage. Further out into the dense fog, more silhouetted trees formed a denser wooded area.
Any further vision into the background was unknowable, obfuscated by that fog. The sky was a uniform gray, giving no clues as to direction or time of day, save that it wasn't nighttime there. Jane knew that the sun had already set on Ireland hours ago, so the bleak land outside the second door must have been far away. It was further than she thought.
Exhilaration and curiosity overriding her fear, Jane wanted to see more of the landscape than what the entry view offered. Grabbing the frame of the doorway for support, she took an unsteady step out into the alien territory.
Just then, a luminous ball of pink light shot over her head from inside the play room, and out into the mist. A yelp of surprise came out of Jane's mouth before she could control herself. As the light spun and danced out by the nearest trees, its glow fuzzy from the mist, Jane thought she heard it giggle. As it went about its dizzy course, it emanated another happy sound, an innocent and whimsical titter. That sound called to her; it carried a hidden promise of cherished youthful dreams, as when she was just a smallie.
With a joyous smile, Jane watched as another pastel ball of light, pale yellow in the thick mist, came from the thicker woods and joined the first. They moved away in lazy circles, all the while chuckling in girlish tones that pulled at Jane's heart. As the lights retreated into the thicket, voices began to call to her by name; playful, laughing, high-pitched voices, their tones promising the carefree joy that only a child would know.
Her mind a whirl, thinking only of innocent pleasures, Jane called back to the fading fairy lights. "No, wait! I want to play!" Lost in the lure of the wisps' enchantment, she followed out into the tall grass and fog. The door, forgotten in Jane's clouded mind, quickly faded from existence behind her.
The voices called once more while they fluttered into the darker recesses of the woods. Jane walked quickly to catch up, her eyes staring only forward. She entered into the thicker stand of the slender trees without worry or fear, trying to keep the alluring lights in sight. They were temporarily lost from view, so Jane kept moving forward. One glimpse, and then gone. Another glimpse of the distant pink and yellow li
ghts, hazy in the mist, and then they disappeared.
The spell abruptly fled from Jane's mind, letting her senses return, and a freezing fear overtook her.
Jane stood very still and took account of her surroundings. Her shallow breaths plumed in the cool, humid air. She stood in a forest with no discernible view of the grassy fields. She had no sense of bearing to decide on a direction to escape the woods; there were no apparent tracks on the mossy earth. From her shoes up to the knees of her jeans were damp from the dewy grass and sparse forest underbrush. She had no idea where she was. She didn't know where her door was. The air was still and eerily silent.
Jane's breathing became more labored. Her eyes darted about, paranoid for any movement. Gulping down a scream of panic, she suddenly bolted, hoping - needing - to escape the ominous woods.
Jane ran with an overpowering dread, altering directions when obstacles of brambles or a thick patch of trees thwarted her. Panting audibly, she ignored the pain in her side from the exertion. Terror tried to take hold, telling her she'd be forever lost in these woods.
Jane suddenly saw an opening ahead, and her heart leaped. Even without a way home figured out yet, the foggy fields were preferable over that haunting forest. Finally reaching the grasslands, she stumbled clear of the trees and stopped. Bracing her hands on slightly bent knees, Jane leaned over and tried to refill her lungs. She muttered with raspy, breathless whispers, "Oh God, oh my sweet fucking Jesus, thank you, God."
Once again able to breathe deeply, Jane stood straight and looked around for any familiar lays of the land. It was hopeless; none of the bleak landscape was recognizable. She was utterly lost.
With senses heightened from her lingering paranoia, Jane caught movement in the corner of her eye. In the blurry distance, a figure shrouded in mist came to a halt. From its vague silhouette, Jane could get no clear image, save that the apparently tall and lean person casually held a long, thin walking stick. They both stood in motionless silence for a few seconds.
Before Jane could decide on a course of action, a gentle yet masculine voice called to her through the gloom. "You must be Jane McCarthy; how nice to meet you."
###
Author's note: The fictional village of Ballaghadaere (pronounced Bala-dare) is closely based on Ballaghaderreen (pronounced by many as Bala-hadreen), a quaint little town in northern County Roscommon, Ireland. Lough Gaell (pronounced Gail) is actually Lough Gara, a lake near Ballaghaderreen. Moylaira Castle is actually Moygara Castle, the ruin of which is near both Ballaghaderreen and Lough Gara. Names of locations have been changed for the hell of it; this is fiction, after all. Also, I didn't want to take the chance of stepping on any Irish toes, which I'm told is very bad luck.
