The Origin Stone

Chapter 2-4

We emerge from the trees right next to the bus stop where we catch the coach to school. A few people stare at us, eyeing up Mrs. Swanson as I drag her out onto the pavement, wrestling a string of ivy leaves from her mouth. One by one, they drift away from us as though we’re carrying something contagious.

“What’s the matter with them?” Ru whispers to me.

“Maybe they think we’re crazy like Great Cousin Maggie was?” I suggest. “Mum told me she used to come here every day and tell anyone who would listen about what she saw.”

“But the kids we catch the school coach with have never reacted this way,” he points out.

“Well, they can’t exactly get away from us when we’re on a coach, can they? Besides, they do stare at us, and twice I’ve caught two of the boys in your class trying to put gum in your hair.”

“Really?” he says. “What did you say to them?”

“Nothing, but they both had bruised feet the next day.”

We pass through the village, eager to get home now that our presence is clearly unwanted. As we pass the bakers, where the dogs and Mrs. Swanson sniff hungrily at the aromatic smell of fresh cakes emanating from the open door, an old woman totters out in front of us, tripping over her walking stick. Juggling the dogs’ leads and Mrs. Swanson’s rope, Ru and I each grab one of her arms just in time to stop her from falling.

“Oh, goodness me, thank you,” she says, her voice soft and trim. Then she takes a good look at us and gasps. “You’re the Renzi children, are you not? Your family moved into Ravenswell House three weeks ago?”

“Er, yes, that’s us,” I say. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t recognise you, so you could only be new to the village. A grand house, Ravenswell, though I’m sure it has its fair share of secrets like any other place,” she says, flashing her dentures at me. Her strong gaze compels me to look away.

Ru coughs. “I suppose it does…”

“Forgive me,” she says. “I’m Mrs. Wrenshaw. The village doesn’t have a public library, but I operate one from my home, over there.” She points to an equally trim house on the opposite side of the road. The front door is painted bluebell, and ornate tubs of flowers line the short path leading up to it from the gate. “You’re very welcome to come and look around whenever you want. Except for Sundays, I’m never open then. Day of rest, you know.”

“Thank you,” I manage, her gaze still penetrating my face. “We’ll come around and have a look when we have time.”

“Splendid, splendid. I hope to see you again, then.”

She totters off to her house. Ru and I watch her silently, neither of us quite sure what to think. “We should get going,” Ru says eventually. “The water I brought for the dogs has already run out. They’ll be thirsty again soon.”

The pavement curves around onto the main road leading past our house. The woods we came through extend right out next to it. Once again, we find ourselves brushing up against tree branches and brambles. Ru and the dogs walk calmly ahead, but Mrs. Swanson hangs back, munching away at every leaf and root we pass.

Then, in mid-chew, her body tenses and her eyes glaze over. The hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Barely an inch away from her, stretching to at least two feet above my head, is the strange blur I saw in the night.

My skin tingles and blood flushes around my body as my heart pumps faster and faster. This isn’t real. It isn’t possible.

“Em? Em, what is it?”

The blur shudders and disappears as Ru runs back to me, with Brennan, Honey and Cheyenne snarling as they pull on their leads.

“I don’t know what it was,” I gasp, sinking to my knees. I scan the pavement in case it’s lurking somewhere else, but I can’t see it. “It looked like a…blur in the air, but I could feel it watching me.”

“A blur? Like a heat haze?”

“Similar. But it wasn’t that. Mrs. Swanson saw it too, and she stopped eating when it appeared,” I say, still unable to get enough air into my lungs. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. It appeared last night, in front of the old bunker.”

“Take it easy, Em,” he says, sitting next to me. Awkwardly, he puts his arm around my shoulders in an effort to calm me down. It’s working. As my breathing relaxes, my heart rate slows. The dogs flop at our feet, and Mrs. Swanson, back to normal now, chews on a berry bush above his head.

“Do you believe me, Ru?” I ask after a moment

“Of course I do. I know you’d never lie to me. Anyway, I’ve never seen you in such a panic before.” He grins, rubbing Brennan’s head as he flops his muzzle on his lap. “Besides, these three certainly knew something was there. Alright, it doesn’t take much to set Brennan off, but it’s rare for Honey and Cheyenne to do the same.”

“Mm,” I say with a nod. “Thanks, Ru. I just hope I can find out what it is.”

“You and me both,” he replies. “It could be some other kind of natural phenomena we just haven’t heard of. The old woman we met in the village, Mrs. Wrenshaw. She might have something about it in her library. She must keep records of old newspapers in there, if someone’s written an article about it before, then perhaps she’s got it.”

Maybe he’s right. Still, I’m sure whatever it was, it was watching me.