“Help! Help!” She tried to turn around but couldn’t. The solid walls pinned both shoulders. A heavy presence began to fill her, starting in her forehead and pouring down into her belly. “Help!” She thrust forward but the walls closed in further. Her face was now compressed between them. She tried to open her mouth and scream again but couldn’t. A balloon was inflating in her throat, smothering her voice behind it. Her heart was beating faster and faster, she tried to coil and flex against the growing pressure but the density continued to crush her small body. With everything she had she struggled to call out.
“Help!” Opal sat bolt upright in bed. Her ears were ringing. Covered with sweat she looked down to see that her nightgown was completely drenched. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh my god. It was a dream.” Opal ripped back the covers and revealed a giant wet spot on her cotton sheets. She stripped the bed and shuffled down the hall to take a shower. The hot water relaxed her muscles. “It is strange though,” Opal said to herself, reaching for the shampoo. “I haven’t had an anxiety dream in a long time.” She massaged her scalp. “Not since Frank died. That’s over three years ago now.” She rinsed and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping herself in a towel she walked over to the sink and wiped steam from the mirror. She looked at herself. “Anyway, I have nothing to be anxious about.”
The wind was whipping up a storm when Opal made lunch later. She warmed up a plate of rice with roast beef and poured a small glass of milk. Sitting at the counter she watched leaves go whizzing across the grass in the back. The phone rang. “Hello?”
“Is the world about to end over there too?”
Opal smiled. “It sure looks like it! Can you believe this weather Marjory? This is the fifth day in a row that it’s been windy like this.”
“I know. It started at about noon on Monday. I remember because Erica was trapped in a cave during a raging storm on All My Children but after they rescued her the howling sounds didn’t stop. I looked out the window in time to see my neighbour’s lawn chairs go flying across the yard.”
Opal sighed. “I’ll never understand why you waste your time with those soaps.”
“Bosh! I only watch All My Children and Days of Our Lives now. I’ve completely given up General Hospital and The Bold and the Beautiful.” Marjory sighed softly. “Besides, now that Ed’s gone there’s not a whole lot to do.”
Opal picked at her rice. Leaves and small sticks were being smashed against the side of the shed outside. “I know, Marj. I miss Frank too. Say, we should get together when you’re back from seeing your daughter. You leave tomorrow, right?”
“Bright and early. I’ll be with Betty Saturday and Sunday but I think I might drive back on Monday. Those grandkids are getting to be little terrors. A get-together after then would be great. We can make mint juleps or something!”
Opal watched as her lawn chairs rattled around on the porch. “I just can’t believe this wind! I think my patio chairs are about to take flight.”
Marjory gasped. “You don’t think a tornado could hit, do you?”
“Well, no.” One lawn chair tipped over and barrelled into the others. “At least, I don’t think so….” Just then a loud crack pierced the air and Opal yelped. “Oh my good lord!”
“What is it? Opal? Are you OK? What was that sound?!”
“Marj, I gotta go. A big branch just snapped off the cherry tree. Have a safe trip, alright? Talk to you when you get back.”
“Be careful!” Marjory called as Opal hung up the phone.
It was about 4:30pm before Opal was even able to get out the back door to inspect the damage. She had tried to open it earlier but was no match for the strong wind. “I guess if I had really needed to get out I could have cut the screen with a kitchen knife and then squeezed my old bod through.” Opal chuckled at the thought. Looking toward the back of the lawn her smile fell immediately. Across the fence loomed Vern’s giant picture window.
Vern was 91 years old and had lived behind her and Frank for over 30. He had always been a nasty old coot, watching the neighbourhood like a hawk and yelling at children who lost baseballs in his yard. It happened so often. But Opal suspected that’s why he chose to live next to a school. He enjoyed the chance to frighten little kids as often as possible – they were so easily impressed. Although truthfully, he frightened her too.
Vern had never been nice, even when Frank was around, but he had never been invasive either. When Frank passed Vern had started coming into the backyard whenever Opal was out there. He’d hobble up to the fence and mumble things. Opal could never understand him and had to get close to make any sense of what he wanted. It was usually to complain about the fruit the cherry tree dropped in his yard, but the way he stared and chomped his gums at her, rubbing his yellow teeth with his dry tongue, it made her feel ill. So, for the past three years Opal had tried to stay as close to her patio as possible, rarely venturing out toward the cherry tree or the struggling irises that grew along her side of the fence. She was almost able to ignore his jabbering form when he came out to the fence. Almost.
But four weeks ago, Vern had the bushes cut. Five large blue hedges had grown along the fence between them. They were on Vern’s side but provided added privacy for both neighbours. Now the middle two were chopped down, exposing her yard completely. The remaining three transformed into an eerie sort of frame around Vern’s picture window.
He kept his house dark so she could never really see inside. But at certain times during the day, the light would hit his house and illuminate it just enough for her to see his silhouette behind the glass. She knew he watched her. Even when she couldn’t see it, she could feel it. She could feel his gaze now. He was at the window.
Opal frowned and looked from Vern’s house to the broken tree and back again. She took a deep breath, clenched her gray cardigan sleeves and marched toward the tree. A giant, jagged branch cut into the air as its other half lay splintered across the fence. “I suppose I’ll have to call someone.” She sighed. “There’s just no way I can take care of this mess myself.” The wind licked at her ankles and Opal shuddered. The sun was starting to set and it would be dark in less than an hour. “I’ll have to call tomorrow.”
“Hey!” Opal cringed as his voice grated across her ears. The cold breeze carried the sound of his gnashing gums. “You gonna clean that up?” She looked up to see him hobbling toward her, bent over his walker with tennis balls attached to the feet and toting an oxygen tank behind him. “Just look at that rotten shit! Stinking shit all over my lawn.” He flared his nostrils and long curling hairs extending toward her like tiny knives. “It’s your shit. You better clean this up!” Vern snorted and spit. Mucous clung to his shrivelled lips.
“What does this have to do with shit, Vern?”
“Huh?” Vern clunked persistently toward her. “You gonna clean that up?”
Opal put a hand to her forehead. She knew better than to talk with Vern. This was part of his trick. He would either mumble nonsense to get her to come closer to understand him or he would pretend not to hear her, to make her speak louder and move nearer. Opal was not about to get any closer. She wanted to get back in the house but she steeled herself. “Vern, I’m calling someone about it tomorrow.” The wind began to whistle and Opal pulled her thin sweater around her shoulders. There was a real feel of winter in the air.
“No. If you don’t get this cleaned up now or I’ll come and shit in your lawn, see how you like it!” The light was fading further and the yellow whites of his eyes began to glow.
“Good bye, Vern.” Opal headed toward the house and saw all the chairs sprawled on the patio. She rolled her eyes. “Better get these put away before they sprout wings.” Opal lifted the latch to the shed door and one by one lugged them in. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Vern still standing at the fence. He was staring and it looked like he was still shouting but Opal couldn’t hear him over the growing howl of the wind. “What a creep.” Stacking a chair inside, she brushed off her hands. “There, one more and that’s it.” As if to punctuate her sentence, the shed door slammed shut and Opal heard the click of the latch.
Opal turned around and pushed on the door. It was locked. “Ugh, I don’t have time for this.” She pushed on the door again but it wouldn’t move. Opal looked around her; it was starting to get dark. She saw an axe sitting in the corner to her right and grabbed it. She wedged the blade between the door and frame, trying to bust the latch from the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Opal could feel her heart beating. She took a deep breath and then looked around the shed again. It was harder to see everything. An orange street lamp flickered on. “The window!” She pushed her way through piles of boxes to the back of the shed and tried the same manoeuvre with the axe, but the wood-framed window was securely fastened to the wall. Opal could feel the balloon begin to rise in her throat. She scanned the room again and saw an opening about a foot wide along the top of the shed wall. She pushed the chairs just below it and climbed on. They wobbled precariously under her feet and she fought to keep her balance. “Take it easy now, wouldn’t want to fall and make the situation any worse.”
Opal peered out and could see across the lawn to the sidewalk and street. A group of kids were walking down the sidewalk and heading toward the school. “Help! Help me! I’m trapped!” Opal saw one baseball cap twist around but the others didn’t seem to notice. “Help! I’m over here, in the shed!” The baseball cap turned back and was then out of sight. “No, no, no!” The wind began to sound again and they were gone. Through the wailing Opal thought she heard a voice. She put her ear to the opening. She craned her neck and tried not to breathe. There it was again. It sounded like a laugh. She clung to the top of the wall and strained her eyes against the night. “Who’s there? Is anyone there?” The laugh grew louder and Opal followed the noise to the gaping hole in the backyard bushes.
There stood Vern, fully illuminated by the moon light, bowed over his walker and grinning wickedly from ear to ear. In the light Opal could see the lines in his face deepen to the point of cracking.
“Vern! Vern, you need to help me! I’m trapped!”
He continued to cackle under the moon and then held a hand up to his ear. The wind whizzed and zipped. “Wassat you say? I can’t hear you.” His laughing turned into violent coughing.
“Vern, this is serious. You have to call for help!”
“No! Not until you clean up this mess! I should leave you in there. Teach you a lesson.”
“Vern, you raging idiot! Call the police! Help!” Opal began screaming as loud as she could but was drowned in the depth of the wind. The blood fell from her face and her knees began to shake. Trembling she lowered off the chairs and onto the floor. She began to cry. “Oh, what will I do? Marjory won’t be back until Monday. It’s Friday night. I could be in here for days.” She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed some more. “Fool! I’m such a fool!” Absently she reached down and blew her nose on an old garage rag. The strong smell of gasoline made her choke. She became angry. “This is so stupid! It’s like a scene from one of Marjory’s ridiculous soaps.” Opal let out a nervous laugh. “But no one knows I’m in here. No one besides Vern.” She burst into tears again and lost control. She cried louder and louder, like she never had before. Not even at Frank’s funeral. She threw herself at the door and bounced back between piles of boxes. She slid down into them, slowly sinking into a low steady moan until she felt completely drained and light. Opal could feel the cold of the night wind in her bones but exhaustion covered her and she soon fell asleep.
She was walking down a wide hallway. All around her elementary students were making their way to their classrooms. Opal smiled at them but they didn’t seem to notice. She continued on and suddenly, there was Frank. He was leaning against a wall, wearing a suit and smiling broadly. A few feet away another man stood beside him, but his image was blurred.
Happiness filled Opal as she walk walked toward Frank. “Won’t you come with me?”
He smiled sadly. “I can’t.”
Opal woke to see sunlight swirling quickly through the room. It was morning. She stood up and dusted herself off. “I’m getting out of here today.”
There was a rapping on the shed door. Opal’s eyes widened. “Could it be?” There was another series of raps. “Yes! Yes!” She ran to the door and put her hands on it. “I’m here!”
“Awake are you?”
Opal’s hands balled into fists and she pressed her forehead into the door. A gust of wind slid through the opening and bit at her neck. There was a violent bang on the door and Opal shouted in surprise.
Vern’s cackle pricked at her ears. “Now don’t be nasty with me. I’ve come to give you a surprise. Something to keep you company while you’re in there.”
“Vern, you let me out this instant!” Opal pounded back on the door with her fists.
“Ah, ah, don’t you want your surprise first?”
Opal backed away and scrambled up the stacked chairs. Her joints ached from the night before but a hot adrenaline helped to ease the pain. She didn’t even feel the Arctic wind as she popped her head over the wall. “It’s Saturday but maybe someone will be out for a walk.” She looked across to the sidewalk and street. They were both empty. As Opal squinted, trying to see more of the neighbourhood, a sickening smell invaded her nose. She retched. “Mother Mary, what is that?”
Vern’s cackle intertwined with the stench. “Just sharing some of the same gift you gave to me!”
Opal brought a hand to her mouth. “Vern, you stop that right now!”
He laughed and wheezed. “As soon as you clean up the mess you made in my yard.”
Opal turned back to the opening, desperate. And there, like a vision, was a woman with bright red hair, coffee and a book bag clicking down the sidewalk in heels. “Help!” The wind was humming loudly but the woman looked up. Opal reached out her hand and waved frantically. “Over here! In the shed!” Vern’s stink filled her mouth but she didn’t care. The woman spun around looking in all directions. Then her eyes locked on Opal’s and she dropped her coffee and book bag. Brown liquid splashed all over. “There’s a gate at the front of the house!”
The woman kicked off her heels and ran toward the front, her red hair a blaze behind her. Opal carefully got down off the chairs. The smell was unbelievable. She thought it must be like what a rancid slaughterhouse smells like. The wind kept pumping it into the shed. “Someone is on their way Vern. I’m getting out of here!” She walked toward the door, facing the vile odour. The wind roared. “And I think you should do the same. Get out of here!” Opal lifted her little leg and kicked the door as hard as she could. There was a huge thud and the whole shed shook under the force. Opal’s mouth dropped and she lifted her foot, looking at it in awe.
“Oh no!” It was a woman’s voice.
“I’m here! Please let me out!”
The latch lifted and the door swung open.
“Are you alright?” The woman with the red hair was talking to her but staring at something on the ground just outside the door.
Opal looked and there lay Vern, pinned to the ground by the remaining lawn chair.
“I think I need to call an ambulance. It doesn’t look like he’s breathing!”
Monday evening Opal was washing dishes when the phone rang. She smiled and dried her hands carefully before answering. “Hello?”
“Ready for those mint juleps?”
Opal slowly walked toward her back door. “Was it really that bad?”
“Yes! Betty just lets those kids run wild. I don’t know why. Certainly didn’t learn that from me. I’m totally exhausted.”
“Sounds like quite the adventure.”
“It was! But I’ll save all the details for our cocktail hour. How about you? Anything exciting happen over the weekend?”
Opal smiled at the “For Sale” sign a realtor was attaching to the side of Vern’s fence. “Oh, nothing All My Children couldn’t top.”
http://www.scrollinspace.com/article.php?story=20101221161043810