Success In The City
A Winter’s Tale
1 It was winter in a country town that pretended to be a city. 2
The wind whistled and the lightning flashed and the rain beat down on the corrugated roof.
Occasionally a wisp of wind came down the chimney and stirred the blackened wood in the fireplace.
Until finally there was a last sparkle of red and then nothing only blackness.
The wind nudged the mother and she tossed restlessly in her sleep.
The mother was struggling to survive in a world that at times could be very threatening.
The wind knew that this was such a time.
The wind saw and knew everything.
And thus began … a winter’s tale.
Comfort
The wind came in through the cracks of the old timber cottage and moved gently through the rooms making sure that all was well.
The boy slept soundly – he was the man of the house.
The wind nudged the boy but the boy did not stir.
Suddenly she was awake.
The mother could hear the old verandah boards creaking.
She lay still and found it hard to breathe.
She was afraid to move in case someone outside heard the bed creaking.
A different drum
Perhaps someone could hear her heart beating?
Why did her heart have to beat so loudly?
The wind knew the mother was feeling colder inside than it was cold outside.
The mother could not move she was frozen in her bed.
After what seemed like a million years the creaking stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
The mother knew the boy would not have heard anything – nothing wakened the boy.
Soon her heart quietened. Perhaps she was still dreaming?
Perhaps it was part of her dream?
She rolled over closed her eyes and tried to restart her dream.
Physical reality
Then the knocking started.
Again she lay still as her heart kept beat in time with the deliberate knock.
She held her breath during the silence when the brass knocker was raised and when the brass knocker fell with a thud her heart did the same.
After awhile she mustered the courage to creep up the hall and looked under the door.
She could see a shadow on the step.
There really was someone out there. She sat on the floor and drew her knees under her chin and with her arms encasing them rocked back and forth.
It was small comfort.
Predictable
The mother knew it was not a dream when a pattern established itself.
It was always at night.
Always when it was cold.
Always when the wind blew.
It always started with the verandah creaking, the brass doorknocker falling slowly with a thud and then silence as she moved close to the door.
Night after night she sat alone in the hall shivering.
One morning at breakfast she told the boy. The boy saw the fear in her eyes and heard the fear in her voice and the boy knew fear.
That night the wind saw the boy toss and turn restlessly in his sleep.
When the mother heard the creak on the verandah and the thud of the brass doorknocker she woke the boy.
Unison
That night two people crept up the hall and two people listened to the slow knock on the door. That night two people cuddled together for comfort.
The days turned into weeks and the mother and the boy grew bolder, issuing challenges from behind the door.
“Who is it?” Who is it?”
Silence.
There was never an answer no matter how often they called.
One night the boy stayed by the door whilst the mother went into an adjoining room and looked out the window.
The boy said the shadow had not moved and the mother saw there was no movement on the verandah.
Could it be a ghost, a real ghost they wondered?
Night watch
The mystery had to be solved so one night when there was no moon they crept out the back door and hid behind the old gum tree to wait and watch.
Eventually they heard the thud of the brass doorknocker.
They peered into the darkness.
There was no movement.
No one there.
Again the thud of the doorknocker and they were afraid.
Perhaps it really was a ghost.
More thuds from the brass doorknocker and they hoped it was the wind that made them shiver.
Then they saw a slight movement. They looked harder and harder and finally recognized a small figure pressed against the door stretching and stretching until she reached and lifted the brass doorknocker.
Then she let it go - thud!
Open Sesame
Quickly the mother grabbed the camera and pressed the button.
Now they would have the proof they needed.
In a flash Wossa 3 was caught in the act and the laughing boy ran and scooped her up into his arms and cuddled her as he carried her inside.
The mother and the boy realized that Wossa must have watched them coming and going until she finally worked out that the way to get the door to open was to knock until someone answered. 4
She was right because from that time forward the mother and the boy always opened the door whenever Wossa knocked.
Some people said that Wossa was only a cat but to the boy and the mother Wossa was an intelligent friend who had shown by example that ’success comes to those who reach for it and never give up’.
And as Wossa curled up in her favorite chair by the fire she purred, “The mother and boy were slow to learn but they do make good pets”.
END
Footnotes:
1. ‘Picture of Wossa’: © Connee-Colleen & Nemo 1982. The camera was set up on the verandah on a tripod with an air trigger extension attached so the ‘intruder’ could be viewed through the bedroom window and the black and white photo taken from inside the house.
2. Connee-Colleen & Nemo. Queanbeyan Outlook with Connee-Colleen © “Reach for Success”. The Queanbeyan Age, 15th March, 2005. p 5. [OL.6]
3. In this second version the cat’s name ‘Wossa’ is correct. In the Queanbeyan Outlook version the cat was named Marilyn.
4. Both versions “A Winter’s Tale”, and “Reach for Success” are based on fact.
Copyright:
All content on Before Canberra Copyright © Connee-Colleen unless otherwise noted - apologies extended if inadvertently a copyright has not been acknowledged - please inform so this can be rectified.
NB: (i) CLICK on REFERENCE (at top of page) for more details on footnotes, and (ii) CLICK on GLOSSARY (at top of page) for meaning of words.