Elke Schuster - Arash - Shadow Hunt

March 2011

If I still had a diary I’d write the same sentence over and over: it has to be spring soon, please let it be spring! But I quit writing a diary long ago, since my fourteenth birthday, the day my father read it and threw it in my face. The small red book was hidden under my mattress but he still managed to find it, he must have searched thoroughly. He saw everything, my deepest thoughts and feelings, and I just wanted to die. He was terribly mad at me, hurt by my yearning after my birth mother and the nasty feelings I harboured against my sister and my stepmother. Everything was there, my futile desire to be accepted and loved, the diary told him everything. I’ve never felt so betrayed in my whole life. Afterwards I never started to write down my feelings again, not even when I had my own apartment. But now, at this moment, I’d give anything for a piece of paper and a pencil. But I’d have to destroy it anyway, flush it down the loo or eat it, because they would read it, the nurses and doctors. I smile at the thought of what they would make of my secrets which are much bigger than those of a fourteen-year-old, incredible and unfathomable. Mad really.

Please let it be spring! Day after day I keep staring out of the small window at the bare trees and branches, but yesterday I discovered the first green buds. I felt lightheaded with relief and my heart beat so fast I thought it would stop. And then there was the panic, the cold fear that spring would not keep its promises. What if winter turns into spring and nothing changes? If my life always remains the same? What if THEY are not coming to get me? What if somebody has discovered my secret and I’ll always stay locked up in this room? A shiver runs down my spine. What if everything has been a dream after all?

Please let it be spring! Then I’ll know if I’m really mad or not. I shake my head. Clearly I’m not mad but there are moments when the doctors and everyone else start to convince me. Or when I see my reflection in the mirror, in a white hospital nightie, thin and pale like a ghost. Could HE love this new me? In the past I would have killed to be this slim, but now I hate myself and what I’ve turned into. What they’ve turned me into. Never again will I wear a white nightie. I yearn to be the girl again that I was for a few happy months.

And I want my ring back.

I hear the door opening but don’t turn round. It’s sure to be just Paula, the nurse, with a lunch tray and my medication. I close my eyes and wait for the sentence I hear every day, again and again. There she goes. “How are we doing today?” her soft voice asks. I suppress the urge to scream because I remember the first green buds on the trees. I have to pull myself together.

“Fine, thank you,” I reply gamely, turning around. “Lunch smells especially delicious today.” Nice try and I am promptly rewarded by the woman’s smile. The nurses are happy that I’m talking again and even eating their disgusting food. It shows that I’m making progress.

“Eat up, you’re still much too thin. You have to regain your strength,” she urges, putting the tray in front of me. “And don’t forget your medication!” I roll my eyes. As if they would let me. The door closes behind her. Later she’ll return to check if I’ve taken all the pills. I wrinkle my nose, the smell of the chicken in a slushy brown sauce is disgusting. Everything tastes the same here, just like different kinds of cardboard. But the nurse is right, I have to eat to regain my strength. To be able to run to HIM when he comes to get me. I take the red pills and the small white ones which make me so drowsy and flush them down the toilet as I’ve done for the last couple of weeks. Since I started to speak and eat again I’m allowed to go there alone. However, real cutlery is not included in the new privileges, I still have plastic knives and forks. As if I would kill myself!

Please let it be spring! I’m cooperating now to get the ultimate privilege: to be allowed into the garden. Where THEY will be waiting for me. Where HE will be waiting.

Maybe. Hopefully. Certainly.

August 2009

Standing in the middle of the courtyard of his castle, Randolph taps his foot impatiently. Soon his family will arrive. He contacted them yesterday evening but they’re taking their time despite their ability to be there seconds after he summoned them. Sometimes their attitude gets to him but he knows that he can’t complain: it was Randolph himself who wouldn’t let them forget their human roots. So now he must be patient. He sighs and squints at the sun. It’s September but very hot for Scotland. Randolph dislikes the heat, so he retreated to this castle a long time ago. But on days like this he can’t seem to escape the heat even here. But maybe it’s not the rising temperatures that are bothering him. Suddenly his large, athletic frame becomes very still but then he suppresses the idea that his uneasiness could have something to do with the impending family meeting and the reason for it.

“Do you have any idea what Randolph wants so urgently?” a young voice chirps from the direction of the gate. Obviously Natalie has arrived.

“No, but I’m sure he’ll get to the point immediately, as he always does,” a second female voice replies. The gate flies open and Randolph heads towards the two girls who mince into the courtyard on high heels.

“Natalie, Ruth, how good to see you!” Randolph’s voice doesn’t betray his impatience. ”Where are the boys?” Ruth rolls her dark eyes at him.

“Cassius wanted to use his car. Will and Rupert decided to join him. I’ve no idea what he sees in that car!” Randolph shrugs noncommittally.

“And by the way, what delayed you two?” he asks sternly instead, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Ruth pushes her long blonde hair behind her ears, something she only does when she’s embarrassed. And there are very few people by whom this beautiful cool girl is flustered.

“We knew the boys wouldn’t be here before noon today so we decided to wait as well,” replies Natalie, smiling innocently. She is the youngest member of Randolph’s family and has been with them for less than twenty years. Her hazel curls dance around her round face as she looks up at Randolph. “Is Augustus here yet?” Apart from Randolph Augustus is the oldest member of the family and plays the role of Natalie’s and Rupert’s father. So Natalie is looking forward to seeing him and quizzing him about the reason for today’s meeting. As he’s Randolph’s confidant she’s sure he knows all about it.

“I’ll contact him as soon as the boys are here,” Randolph explains. “He always reacts within seconds when I call him, unlike you”. The girls look away uneasily but Randolph regrets his harsh words immediately. The girls can’t know the reason for his impatience. “Come into the kitchen, I’ve prepared some refreshments,” he offers and leads the way into the castle. Natalie smiles delightedly. None of them need to eat, but Randolph has kept the food tradition intact. He loves elaborate foods and has taught them all the delights of exquisite dishes and wines. “It’s a part of alchemy and as old as mankind itself. It’s a social and cultural heritage. Why should we ignore it?” is one of his favourite sayings. But now he stops abruptly and listens. As the noise increases he opens the gate again with a flick of his fingers, and a dark green Bentley shoots in surrounded by a cloud of dust.

“What a show-off”, murmurs Ruth but there is a sparkle in her dark eyes. Randolph chuckles. He loves Cassius with all his faults, maybe even because of them. He’s the most difficult member of the family, a challenge, but Randolph relishes a good challenge.