A short story, excerpt from The Attic – The Dreaming. Unpublished manuscript.
Closing her eyes, Molly imagined standing at the bottom of the stairs to The Attic. The transition from the Physical World to The Attic had become easier and quicker each time she did this. Looking up towards the door into The Attic she could see a strange light emanating from within, different to the usual candle light. Intrigued, she looked curiously walked up the stairs and through the doorway to see that the room had been transformed. It resembled the Victorian Precinct at Omaru. As Molly stepped onto the scene, the vision felt very real. Looking around, she could not see Grace anywhere. This old two-storey building was familiar to her, one they had visited earlier that day. It looked like a passageway between the two streets to which it ran parallel, but was actually the bottom level of a huge old grain store, located close to the wharf. Filled with props for festivals, it had a carnival feel to it. It made her feel like she had stepped back in time. As Molly walked slowly into the old building, noticing the massive beams of timber that supported the substantial structure. Made from individual tree trunks, they were roughly hewn. She sensed many eyes watching her and heard the whispering of voices. Looking straight ahead, she could see clearly through to the street on the other side of the building and could just make out people walking by. When she reached half-way through the building, she stopped, stood still and closed her eyes. This helped her to focus, to feel closer to these Spirit People living here, and in her mind, requested permission to visit. On opening her eyes, Molly saw before her what at first appeared to be a giant mirror, like something from a carnival sideshow, which mirrored back to her the street from which she had come. Puzzled, Molly looked over her shoulder to see the same scene. Each way out of the building now looked identical, but somehow a little different. As she looked closer, she realised the difference. One street was present day. The other appeared to be back in time, in the 1800s! One way had cars parked outside on the laneway, which had tar seal and cobbled gutters. Looking the other way, there was a horse and dray stacked high with sacks of grain in the same laneway, which was all cobbled-stone. A horse snorted, grabbing her attention. Tired from a long haul journey, he leaned on one hind leg, resting the other, dozing, his head nodded sleepily. When she looked the other way, Molly saw a mother with a baby in a three-wheeled stroller of a modern design, the type with inflatable tyres. The sound of her child crying fell flat in the heavy air, muffled by the thick fog outside.
On one side of the building, the scene appeared to be in 2017, the other side, in the mid-1800s, one hundred and fifty years different in time. But here she was witnessing it simultaneously. Bringing her focus back inside the building, she saw that the eyes she had sensed watching her had become embodied. Vast numbers of people assembled before her. Staring back at her with curiosity, looking as puzzled as she was, as they all witnessed the same phenomena, of the time warp they were all standing in. Molly held her breath and dared not move in case she broke the spell. Realising this, she took a deep breath and knew that she had to make a choice to go either way. If she went to the past, how would she get back to 2017? As if reading her mind, a heavily accented Irish voice behind her breathed heavily into her ear, “You just simply stand where you are now and wish yourself back to where you have come from. State clearly the date you wish to return to. We have all done this many times. In modern times when they have their town fairs, we would join in with them and no one would even notice that we are from a different time. They just think we were a part of the celebrations and dressed in costume.”
Molly slowly and cautiously turned around to see a sea captain standing behind her. “Arr! It’s a grand day, aye!” He said in a broad accent, smiled and winked at her cheekily. Come this way, lass, I’ll take you to Miss Maude’s, and we’ll get you into something a little more… acceptable, inconspicuous, to wear, shall we?” His eyes slowly taking in all the details of her tight jeans and beyond! “Oi! That will do, Pirate Pete!” she stated sharply, causing him to blush and turn away. “Beggin’ ya pardon, m’am. Allow me to introduce myself – I am… The Captain,” he addressed Molly, bowing courteously and sweeping his cap to the ground. He then looked up at Molly, took her hand gently and kissed the back of it. “And your name would be?” He enquired sheepishly.
“Molly Ferguson, Mrs Molly Ferguson. And Captain, that will be enough with the flattery, it will get you nowhere! I am a happily married woman!” she exclaimed firmly.
“Aww,” he drawled softly. “He’s a lucky man indeed! May I be your gentleman guide?” he offered, as he took Molly’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, and led her towards the tall double sided doorway into the world of 1867.
As Molly stepped out of the building with her chaperone, and squinted as the bright sunshine dazzled her vision. The street was busy, so much chatter, so many people bustling about. The street was a hive of activity, men, women, horses, carts, hand-carts, wheelbarrows, trolleys, all busy moving stock from the buildings down to the wharf and back. A ship had set anchor in the early hours of that day, being March 29th, 1867. The noise of the voices yelling above one another, the smell of fresh horse manure, tobacco smoke, and stale alcohol hung in the air. Molly’s senses were overloaded. The Captain wove his way confidently through the busy crowd, dodging and sweeping Molly effortlessly amongst the people, horses, over piles of manure, dodging dogs, carts and even the horse-drawn tram which trundled down the tracks in the middle of the street.
Molly felt giddy, but The Captain manoeuvred her with such ease, and her feet barely touched the ground. They arrived promptly at Miss Maude’s, the dressmaker, and he gently guided her through the door, closing it behind them and shutting out much of the noise. Inside was a buxom woman who addressed The Captain like an old friend. “Mornin’ Capt’n. Another lady for a fit-out, I see….” Her voice trails off as her skilful eye scanned Molly’s body from head to toe. She winked at him, implying that his secret was safe with her. He took a step back as if offended and exclaimed, “Miss Maude!” then brushed off the thought of trying to explain this situation to her. “Arr, you would na understand this ‘un…”
“Try me!” Miss Maude retorted, standing tall, hands on her hips and her head held high. “You think I don’t recognise this garb?” She replied, tugging at Molly’s jersey distastefully, and then winked and smiled at her knowingly, “I have just the outfit, almost completed. Help yourselves to the pot of tea, whilst I attend to this. Shan’t be long, make yourself at home, Capt’n, as you always do!” She chattered excitedly, her voice trailing off as she disappeared into her workroom. It was amusing for Molly to see this rough but somewhat elegant man navigate his way skilfully around the kitchen in the tiny living area at the back of Miss Maude’s shop. There was something about him that felt familiar, but Molly couldn’t recall where she had met him before. He pointed for her to take a seat whilst he busied himself making tea and cutting some freshly baked bread, which he slathered with butter and jam, and arranged neatly on a fine bone china plate to share. “Tea, Miss Maude?” He called through the open door, to which she replied, “Not for me, too busy!”
He sat down opposite Molly at the small kitchen table, handing her a cup of tea and nudging the plate of bread and jam towards her. “I do know why you are here…” he began. “We get the likes of you folks visiting from time to time. I guess like when we visit them from this time period too, during their celebrations and festivals.” He paused, sipping hot tea carefully from his dainty teacup. “Tell me your story, Miss.” He leaned back in his chair, inviting Molly to talk. Finishing her cup of tea, she shared with him a little of her Journey with Will and of how she was collecting stories from the past to write into a book. “An author, eh?” Well, I have never met one of those before. I can read, you know! And very well, if I may say so myself.” He sat up proudly and continued, “Arr, too many lonely nights out at sea, I have read a large assortment of books which I have collected from different countries. My favourite topic is spiritualism – I find it fascinating. However, few people are willing to discuss such topics here, most being of the church. And then there were the letters from my beautiful wife waiting for me at home. But Miss Molly, do you know why you are here now, and who is you need to see?” asked the Captain.
“No, but maybe it’s you, Captain,” Molly suggested. “Me?” He looked up at her in feigned surprise. “Why not!” she replied and continued, “Surely you must have a story or two you need to tell?” Blushing shyly, he turned away, and then distracted Molly from the subject by suggesting, “Allow me to show you around the town Miss? It would be my privilege…”
“Well, Captain, what a splendid idea. Where shall we begin?” Molly enquired, to which he replied, “With you trying on your new attire, Miss Maude is ready for you now,” andhe guided her politely back through the shop to the dressing room, where Miss Maude proudly handed her the new dress. Leaving behind her jeans and jersey, Molly stepped out into this new world in clothes more befitting the times. She now blended into the crowd seamlessly, not recognisable as a Time Traveller. She tugged on the Captain’s arm and said, “My deepest gratitude, Captain, for your generosity, but I have no current-day money to repay you.” The Captain looked at her affectionately and said, “Let’s say it’s good use of money easily gotten,” winked at Molly and took her hand proudly. He paused in the doorway and called over his shoulder, “Thank you, Miss Maude. Your payment is on the kitchen table.” As they walked out the door onto the street, they heard a muffled shriek and a giggle as Maude discovered just how much money he had left for her.
The Captain proved himself to be very much a gentleman indeed and took Molly on an inquisitive tour of the town, introducing her to the various shopkeepers, bankers (some of whom eyed him cautiously), past some well-dressed professional women standing enticingly in the doorway of their establishment, beckoning to The Captain to come and visit. There were street vendors with timber barrows yelling and selling their goods. A mixture of people walked the streets, from well-dressed children walking with their parents or nannies, whilst others ran playfully through the crowd, their quick fingers sneaking goods from the barrows and street stalls. Molly so wanted to take it all in, of what seemed to her like a normal day in Victorian Oamaru. She was coming to the realisation that these layers of existence were unseen by most in the present day, not visible to the untrained eye. Molly knew her time here was limited as she walked the streets with The Captain.
The Captain felt it too. “May I take you to high tea, m’am?” He offered politely. “Why, kind sir, that would be a pleasure indeed,” to which the Captain added, “Canna you stay a wee longer?” He looked at her longingly. “Welllll, I would like to see this part of the town in the middle of the night, when no one else is about. Just to feel what it was like.” “As you wish!” He replied excitedly and with a click of his fingers, as they walked around the corner into Harbour Street, the daylight vanished, giving way to the dark of night and a dimly lit street. Long shadows cast by the light of the gas lamps formed ghostly impressions. Molly felt uneasy, and it was good to have The Captain close by. “What is it you be lookin’ for?” He asked. “Hmmm… nothing in particular other than to see the colours, the lights and shadows of the night, of the quietness of the sleeping town, to experience the atmosphere. Of what it felt like to be alive in the 1800s. Although I know that there are still people out and about even at this time of night (it was 3am), I want to feel the peacefulness and to see the soft golden light of the streetlights against the limestone walls. Of the contrast of the dark spaces in-between the buildings, the dark hollows of the night windows, some lit with the gentle light of a bedside lamp, some reflecting the outside lighting,” Molly tried to explain to the Captain what she was envisioning in her mind. As something scurried from behind them and brushed between her legs, she muffled a squeal with her gloved hands. It was a cat chasing a rat. They both stifled their laughter, not wanting to draw attention to their presence. The night air was getting colder, and The Captain noticed Molly shiver. Removing his coat, he placed it over her shoulders and put his finger to his lips for her to be quiet and accept his hospitality.
“Captain, may I ask you a question?” Molly asked politely. “Certainly, m’am, ask away!” “What is it like to be living here, and why are you still here?”
“Both good questions, m’am. This is where I live. It is my job. I am the guardian of this area. It is a portal between Times, as you are witnessing for yourself. I am here until further notice. I know my time will come when I can be free to be with my beloved wife. Come my friend, there is something I would like to share with you…” Excitedly The Captain took Molly’s hand, “I love mystery and an adventure, are you up for it Missy?” Trusting in her new friend Molly smiled and nodded her head in agreement. He led her to a wooden bench seat down by the wharf. Holding Molly’s hand, he sat down and invited her to do so too. “Close your eyes, Mrs Ferguson and allow me to take you on a journey… Feel the coolness of the night air, that gentle breeze on your cheeks, feel my hand holding yours, knowing that we are safe in the wings of the angels, who guide us now. As I count backwards from 10, feel your body getting lighter and lighter. Three…two…one…now open your eyes, Mrs Molly Ferguson. Is this somewhat more familiar?” The Captain asked. Molly could not believe what she saw when she opened her eyes. She and The Captain were sitting in The Attic! In her very own home! And there, standing before them, was Grace Forrest!
“Arr, hello my love!” He greeted Grace affectionately. “Just a-calling by for a brief visit, and to return this time-travelling waif to you, safe and sound!” The Captain embraced Grace and kissed her passionately. “Until next time!” He bowed to both the girls and vanished, leaving no trace at all. Spellbound, Molly sat motionless in her chair, where this had all begun with a meditation. She was finding it difficult to believe what she had just witnessed. To understand the truth, that The Captain she had just met was indeed Captain Callum Forrest, Grace’s husband! “So, my dear, do tell of your travels! By the way, that is indeed a very fine dress. Is it from Miss Maude’s? Dearest Callum has the best taste!” Grace sat down next to Molly, keen to hear what she had been up to. Molly stammered, “H-he kn-knew me all along? The C-Captain is Captain Callum, and he knew me anyway?” Grace smiled at her. “But of course! Now, tell me about The Victorian Precinct. Was it busy? Had a ship docked?, It always brings the town to life, all that excitement.” Grace fondly reminisced.
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