Halloween Cookies

The kitchen was warm and rain was dripping down the window. The radio was on, classic music drifting out of the speaker. We sat at the breakfast bar finishing lunch. My eight year old twin girls, Eleanor and Phoebe, munching on carrots and dip whilst I nibbled on a ham sandwich.

‘Mummy? Daddy says Halloween is cancelled, why?’ Phoebe asked.

‘It’s the virus, sweetie,’ I said, giving up eating and rubbing my huge six month pregnant stomach. I was feeling tender today and one of the twins or both had been very active in the night.

My husband had been supportive but he had needed the sleep as he had an early Saturday shift to work. I had felt guilty carrying on dozing when he got up but I had so needed more rest.

I was looking forward to him returning at two because I could have a nap he could keep the girls to the park to let off some energy. The twins didn’t do well staying inside all day and we agreed that too much TV and computer games wasn’t good for them.

‘The virus has ruined everything,’ Phoebe spoke again.

‘But I don’t want Halloween to be cancelled!’ Eleanor cried.

‘I’m sorry, Ellie, it’s just the way it’s got to be,’ I replied.

‘Can we still decorate and watch scary movies?’ Phoebe cut in.

‘But we can’t go trick or treating! That’s not going to be fun,’ Eleanor pointed out.

I pressed my hand to my mouth feeling nauseous rolling in.

‘Mummy? Are you okay?’ one of the twins asked.

I nodded and sipped some ginger ale.

‘It’s the babies,’ Phoebe said in a soft voice.

Eleanor nodded and whispered back, ‘she’s going to be sick again.’

I shut my eyes feeling the room start to swim. The whispers of the girls faded and I tried to relax. I had hoped my second pregnancy would have been better but it was turning out to be worse then my first.

Also, I was having twins again, this time one girl and one boy. So, they wouldn’t be identical like the girls but still, I wasn’t looking forward to juggling two babies again.

‘What would you like to do this afternoon girls?’ I asked them, breaking up their whispering.

‘How about some baking?’ Phoebe suggested.

‘Can make Halloween cookies?’ Eleanor pushed in.

‘I want to make a cake for dad!’ Phoebe gushed.

I nodded, ‘help me tidy lunch away then and we can do that.’

Soon, the kitchen was a mess and busy with activity the cookies had been made first and baked second as they need to chill in the fridge. Eleanor choice to make a three layer chocolate fudge cake- dad’s favourite and that didn’t take that long thanks to the double oven in the new kitchen.

Then the cake and cookies were ready for decorating after we had all tied up and only two arguments had broken out – first the twins not happy about having to tidy up then about who was going to lick the spoon and the bowl from the chocolate fudge frosting.

Later, I lay on the sofa, heat pack on my headache and the girls decorating the Halloween cookies on the coffee table with some kids’ TV on in the background on.

The door open, there were shouts of delights from the girls and I smiled knowing that now I could have that nap.

Advertisement

Postcard Story

Dear family,

London is mad! It’s huge, so much to see and do. We’ve been around so many museums and shops that my feet are dead! My brain is overloaded right now. Uncle wasn’t wrong when he said we wouldn’t do everything in a week!

Tomorrow, we are off to see the Queen. Though Dee says we won’t really get to meet her, it’s just her house and stuff. But I’ve been practising my curtsy and manners anyway!

Hope the weather is nice back home and everyone is doing well!

Love, Twins.

Memories

The twins stood before the old abandon house, holding hands and looking blindly upwards. In their heads they both remembered how things had use to be. Light, noise and warmth had once filled the building before them. There had always been laughter and music. People coming and going, the servants so busy and the twins had always listened on the staircase.

Standing in the overgrown garden now, the twins heard the bulldozers at the front of the house. Soon everything they had every known through smell, touch and taste would be gone and they would only have their memories left of a life they had once lived.

 

Broken

I felt the break deep within me. Only back then I didn’t really understand it. Now though, older and wiser, I’ve many things to liken it to. Take this egg for example. It’s whole but once suddenly dropped it breaks into pieces and reveals what’s inside. Granted the egg is not alive and can’t display nothing of what has happen to it. Imagine if that egg was a child though.

That was how I felt with Ocean died. We were whole, we were one, we were mirror images of each other. Ocean and Haven, Haven and Ocean, sea and harbour, together forever.

It’s twenty years ago today. We were eight years old and troublemakers, but in the nicest of ways. A storm had hit our seaside village. The wind and rain had been raging all day and I remember seeing and hearing the sea look so wild and scary. I don’t think I cried, but I made my fear plain enough. I recall Ocean saying she wouldn’t leave me as she put a comforting arm around me.

We shared a room that had two single beds in it, but that night we settled into one. I think it might have been mine. It didn’t matter anyway as both beds were either side of the window. Ocean and I had often shared a bed, seeking the comfort and warmth of each other.

I had to go the bathroom. I remember that so clearly. Getting out of the bed, I left Ocean sleeping, thinking I’d be back soon. There was a massive crash and the sound of glass breaking. Everything shook around me and I fall to the floor. Things were rattling and all I could hear was the storm roaring in my ears.

They said it had been a freak accident. The tree had fallen into the house and taken half of it down. They said it would have killed us both, but for the fact that the bathroom was on the other side of the hallway.  I hardly remember it, but for the image of the house torn in two and the fact that the other back seat in the car next to me was empty.

I asked after her often, ‘where is Ocean, ma?’ ‘When is Ocean coming back, da?’ ‘I miss Ocean.’ Of course, I knew the child version of death, but to me Ocean had said we’d always be together and that surely meant she was going to come back. Didn’t it?

My new bedroom only had a one bed and actually thinking about it from then on there was only one of everything. For ages, my parents let me set out another place at the table, buy two teddies or dolls or toys and doubled the presents at Christmas.

The years passed and passed, but I’ve never felt the same since that night. It’s always seems like a piece of me is missing and no matter what I do I can’t find it.

I’m broken.

Lost One

I watched the spider crawling across the ceiling, needing a distraction from the empty top bunk bed. How strange that he had decided to make his home in this room. My wife was always immaculate with her cleaning in here. Still, she had other things on her mind right now.

Lewis had settled down again. His breathing was soft and across his face was that angelic expression that only young children have. It was hard for me, a first time father, to stop staring at him. Leaving him to his dreams, I half closed the door behind me and went back to my own room.  My wife curled up in bed, had left the lamps on. The soft light circled her face and I could make the worry lines on her forehead.

‘He’s a sleep again now,’ I whispered.

She moaned softly and muttered, ‘Thanks.’

I got under the duvet as she rolled over and sighed deeply.

‘You okay?’

She shook her head, ‘I don’t think I’ll ever feel ‘okay’ again.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m a bad mother.’

‘No. No, you’re not.’

She squeezed my hand, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. I couldn’t think. My throat had closed and there were only echoes of images in my head. I put my arms around her. She put her head to my chest. We held each other, listening to our breathing and heartbeats.

‘I don’t want any more children,’ she whispered.

I kissed her head, ‘Alright.’

‘I mean it, Neil. It’s just heartbreaking all the time….’ she faded, chocking on a sob.

I hugged her. It made no sense to argue, it would only make us both worse. She started to cry softly, her hands clung to my shoulders and her body shook against mine. I rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay. Though I knew it never would be again.

It was early in the morning as I padded down the hallway to check on Lewis. There was urgency in my chest to complete my task, but it was taking me forever to there. The dark was pressing, but I could still make out the cream walls and the cluster of framed photographs.

There was a dim light shining from under Lewis’ bedroom door. It was only the nightlight, I thought, though I don’t remember it being so bright. I turned the door handle and poked my head inside.

Strands of cobwebs met my eyes. The whole room had been taken over by the thick, white strands, making it look like someone had decorated the room for Halloween, but had gone overboard. I pushed through the nearest webs and began searching the room.

‘Lewis? Where are you?’ I cried.

There was no reply and the panic rose in my stomach. I fought my way through the webs, feeling their stickiness brush against my skin. I began to tear them down, but they stuck on my clothes.

I reached the bunk bed and found it empty.

‘Lewis?’ I shouted.

I tore webs from my face and looked around the room. I could see nothing, but a slight dint in the cobwebs where I had entered the room from. I turned and fought my way to the bookcase, but Lewis wasn’t there. Fighting back a scream, I ran out of the room, the cobwebs trailing out behind me and falling into the hallway. I went back into my bedroom, my breathing deep in my panic tight chest. The bed was made and my wife was sitting in the middle of it. My mouth dropped as her head turned towards me.

She was wearing a massive black dress; with frills of delicate lace falling around her white skin and a matching veil over her face. In her left hand was a bouquet of black roses and in the other was a teddy bear. She looked like a gothic bride.

‘What happened?’ I asked, snapping out of my shock, ‘Where is Lewis?’

‘He’s gone….they are both gone now…’ she replied sadly.

‘I don’t….’

‘It was the best thing really….a half life is not a full one.’

‘Half life? What are you talking about, Beth?’

She shook her head causing the black dress to scratch against her skin. ‘They were beautiful, my boys and exactly the same. It wasn’t fair….how can one survive without the other?’

‘They can do!’ I yelled, ‘Where is he? What did you do to my son, Beth?’

She shook her head again and then dabbed at her eyes with a black lacy hanky.

I grabbed the bed railing hard and screamed.

I awoke in a tangle of sheets. The sweat was bubbling on my forehead and my lungs gasping for breath. I threw the covers back and raced for Lewis’ room in a blind panic, fearful of what I’d find behind the door and praying that the nightmare was left behind me.

Opening the door, I found the room tidy. The night lamp beside the bunk bed showed me that Lewis was still there. Sound asleep in his bed. I went to him, wanting to touch his soft blond hair, to make sure he was real.

‘Neil? What’s wrong?’ Beth whispered from the doorway.

I didn’t reply, but knelt down beside Lewis and touched him. He stirred a little and turned his face towards my hand.

‘He’s okay, isn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

Lewis opened his eyes against my hand and pulled a face.

‘Hi,’ I breathed.

My wife came to my side and put her hand on my shoulder.

‘Leo’s gone now,’ Lewis whispered.

‘Yes, he is, but he’s not really gone,’ I answered him.

‘I miss him, daddy.’

‘We do too, sweetheart,’ Beth replied.

‘It’ll be all right. Go back to sleep now,’ I said and kissed his forehead.

Then I took Beth’s hand and led her out of the room.

‘I believe you,’ she said, ‘It’ll be all right.’