Love and the Dark Night

PART TWO, ONE

Anais’ POV

 The ghost kept walking. I held it in sight, afraid that it would disappear.

“Where are you leading me to?” I called. “Speak. I won’t go any further.”

It stopped and turned. I found myself looking into the blank, staring white face of the woman who had been my mother.

“Listen, Anais.” It was my mother’s voice, but cold and expressionless.

“Yes.”

“The time has almost come when I must surrender myself to sulphur and tormenting flames.”

“Alas, poor ghost, I mean mother.”

“Don’t pity me. Listen carefully to what I’m going to tell you. For it’s you who will do whatever had to be done. Can I depend on anyone as much as I do on you?”

“Please speak. I have to hear it.”

“You will also have to revenge when you hear it.”

“What are you saying? You don’t mean it.”

 “I am your mother’s spirit, doomed for a certain time to walk the night, and for the day to burn in fires, till the foul crimes done during my lifetime have been burnt and purged away. Earlier, I was your grandmother’s spirit. If I was not forbidden to tell the secrets of my prison-house I could tell a tale whose lightest word would shrivel up your soul, freeze your young blood, make your eyes start from their sockets and your hair stand up on end like the quills of a frightened porcupine. But this eternal torture is not for ears of flesh and blood. Listen, yes, listen. If you ever loved your dear mother ….”

“Oh God. Yes.” I said. It was too much for me to understand my mother’s ghost telling me all this.

“….revenge her foul and most unnatural murder.”

“Murder?” I almost yelled. “What do you mean?”

“Murder most foul, as murder always is, but this one was most foul, strange and unnatural.”

“Tell me quickly so that, with wings as swift as meditation or thoughts of love, I may sweep to my revenge.”

“I find you willing,” my mother’s ghost said. ‘And if you don’t act on this you will be more drowsy than the fumes from the wet casks of malt whiskey that roots itself in the comfort of the sea shores of the Islay of the Hebrides Islands. The fumes from the wet casks will wash away your present memories and you will be in the sea of forgetfulness. Now Anais, hear me out: It’s been reported that, sleeping in my orchard, a snake bit me. So the ear of Wessesx has been grossly abused by a fraudulent account of my death.’ The ghost paused again and seemed to be overwhelmed by the thought she had just pronounced. Then her voice came again, as steady and cold as it had been up until now. ‘But know this, you noble youth. The serpent that did take your mother’s life now owns our land.’

‘Oh, I had almost thought that,’ I  exclaimed. ‘Senior Jashwant Singh.’

‘Yes, that tyrant, that lecherous, s*x-starved beast. With the witchcraft of his intelligence, with his traitorous qualities – his evil intelligence and qualities that have the power to seduce like that – he forced my will to his shameful lust. Oh Anais, the owners of acres of land we were, and now what a falling-off.”

I stood in shocked silence.

“My love for your father,” my mother continued, “was of that dignity that it was of the same high order as the vow I made to him in marriage. And for him to be lured by money from the murderer Jashwant Singh, to descend to the level of a wretch. Money talks, Anais, but greed yells. It snatches away the holy bed of love and marriage and preys on the garbage to be found in a holy bed.”

The ghost turned its head slightly towards the east then looked at me again. “I think I can smell the morning air,” it said. “Let me be brief. Sleeping in the swing in my inner yard, which, as you know, was my custom in the afternoon, Jashwant Singh’s men crept up with a vial of poisonous yew. He was certain that I would be asleep, and so finding me thus, he poured the poisonous liquid into my ear. This substance is so alien to a man’s blood that it glides rapidly, like quicksilver, through the veins and arteries. And when that murderous liquid entered my body with galloping energy, it thickened and curdled my thin and wholesome blood like lemon juice in milk. And so, like a leper, my smooth body was covered with vile and loathsome scabs. And in that way, sleeping, at the hands of a murderer, I was summarily deprived of my life.”

The ghost raised its head and looked at me with infinite sadness. I stared, horrified.

‘That’s horrible. Yes, extremely horrible.” The ghost took a moment before it continued. ‘If you  ever loved your mother revenge upon Jashwant’s soul by punishing his descendent. You nod your head, which means you know. Yes, it’s Rudi you have to revenge upon. Don’t allow the holy bed of our land to be a sofa for lechery and damnable prostitution. However, when you decide to pursue this act, do it religiously, as if you are performing a sacrifice to appease the gods, not act upon with revenge in your heart. Remember you are removing a social wrong, an irreligious act. Bye for now. The fading stars announce the morning to be near. Bye my daughter. Remember me.”

“Bye Ma.”

The voice faded and the figure merged with the mist.

My heart was beating fast. In the name of all the angels, of earth, and even hell, let not my heart burst. And don’t let my muscles fail me, but hold me up. Remember me. Yes, as long as memory will last in my confused brain. Remember me. I will erase every other foolish memory – everything I had read, people I had known, all the troubles I had had in my life, and the ghost’s commandment will be the only thing that lived in the book of my mind, uncomplicated by the presence of irrelevant things. I took out my cell phone and going to the Notes section in the dawning light, typed my promise to revenge upon my mother’s blood. I lay down on the bed, my body doubled up as though in physical pain. ‘So, Jashwant Singh, there you are,’ I said aloud. ‘You are not here, but it’s going to be adieu, adieu to your flesh and blood. Yes. I have sworn it.”

Hermen’s voice called: “Anais, where are you?”

“Anais?” shouted Alex.

The voices came nearer. ‘Hope she’s safe,’ Hermen said.

“Yup, I’m fine.” I shouted back.

They were peering through the mist. Hermen cupped his hands round his mouth and called like a falconer. “Hello.”

“I’m here. Here.”

They came out of the bright morning mist.

“Are you alright, Anais?” Alex said.

“What happened?” Hermen said.

“Oh, it was a marvel,” I said.

“Tell us, Anais.’ Hermen said.

“No, you’ll leak it out.”

“Not I, I swear,” Hermen said.

“Neither me,” Alex said.

“No one will believe it. But you’ll keep it a secret?”

“Yes, of course, said Hermen. “Why the f..k we won’t.”

Hermen nodded eagerly. “I swear.”

“There’s not one villain living in all of Wessex or Wincester who isn’t a frightful rogue,’ I said.

“It doesn’t need a ghost, come from the grave, to tell us that,’ said Hermen. He and Alex looked at each other, puzzled by this comment.

“You’re absolutely right,” I said. “And so, without any more ado, I think it would be fit that we shake hands and part – you to your business or your pleasure, whatever it is, and I…….. I’m going to go and pray.”

“Your words are wild and meaningless, Anais,” Hermen said.

“I’m sorry they offend you. Very much. Yes, indeed, very much.”

“There’s no offence in them, you know that.” Alex looked hurt.

“Yes, holy s**t, but there is, Alex. And a great deal of offence too. About this vision, it’s an honest ghost, let me tell you that. As for your desire to know what happened between us, suppress it as well as you can. And now, good friends, because you are friends – we’ve been through thick and thin – grant me one small request.”

“Whatever it is, Anais, we will,” Hermen said.

“Never tell anyone what you’ve seen tonight.”

They both assured him of that.

“Yes, but swear it.”

“I swear,” Hermen said.

“I too,” Alex said and cleared his throat.

I nodded. “Good.”

“We’ve already sworn,” Alex said.

I nodded again.

A ghostly voice came from below: “Swear.”

“Aha, Shasht.” I said. “Is that you? Are you there? Come on.”

“Word the oath.”

“Never to say a word about what you’ve seen.”

The ghostly voice of my mother came again: “All of you need to swear.”

I looked at the inner yard where my mother had last rested before being killed. ‘Yes, mother. Wherever we are. Here and everywhere. I walked several paces away and called the others. “Come here, friends and let’s swear.”

As they approached the voice came yet again.

“Swear.”

“This is weird,” Hermen said as they followed me.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Hermen, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come.’ I held my hand out. ‘Here, as you were going to do, swear that you will never, so help you God, no matter how odd or strangely I behave – because perhaps at some stage I may think it appropriate to put on an act – that you, seeing me at those times, will never, with such things as folded arms, or a shake of the head, or by saying something like “well, well, well, we know”, or “we could tell you if we wanted to”, or “our lips are sealed”, or “there are people who could explain this if they wanted to”, or such ambiguous communication, to show that you know anything about me. Don’t do it. So that grace and mercy will help you when you need it most, swear.”

The ghost echoed again what I said. My friends placed their hands on mine.

“Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!’ I shouted. ‘So friends I give you my friendship with all my heart. And whatever a poor lady such as Anais can do to express her respect and friendship, she will do, God willing. Let’s go inside together. And please, your fingers always on your lips.”

I set off. Things were terribly wrong. What a curse that I had ever been born to set them right. Set them right by plotting to kill Rudi, the one I loved more than my soul.