The Book by Julia Brosnan

Senior Short Story Competition

On a summer’s night, with the full moon hanging in the sky, an oddly chill wind whistled through the open window of Vanessa McMillan’s bedroom. Twisting and turning the pale blue curtains, the chill crept over the sleeping girl’s body, up her arms and down her legs, creating goose bumps in its wake. The room was right at home in a fairytale with pink wallpaper, and china dolls that sat neatly in row on top of a bookshelf stuffed with leather-bound books, about animals, bugs and ancient worlds. There was one book that had no place in the bookshelf and it was lying open beside Vanessa. The title, ‘What’s Really Up There,” was printed across the top of the pages and diagrams and pictures filled the rest.
Vanessa awoke with a shiver and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She stared across at the open window; the room had gotten colder. She stumbled out of bed and moved over to close the window. After Vanessa had shut it a fierce gust of wind threw it open.
And it didn’t stop there, the wind swirled about the room, so fast and strong it was almost visible. The book on the bed began to rustle and soon the pages were turning in a blur. The wind died and the pages in the book settled open in the middle. Vanessa was stunned as her eyes transfixed on the scene unfolding before her.
Ink from the pages was flowing towards the binding and very slowly, in a thick, black, inky blob, it began to rise into the air. Vanessa watched as it started growing bigger and, to her intense dislike, was dripping ink on her bed spread. The inky blob began to take form; at least, that is what it seemed to be doing. As she concentrated, Vanessa was certain she could see arms, legs and a head.
There was a loud pop and bright coloured light streamed from the blob; Vanessa was blinded, threw her forearm over her eyes and stumbled backwards. Detail emerged from the once plain, black blob. It was now quite obvious that what was standing on her bed was a short, plump old man with a mustard stain on his crumpled shirt. His hair was a black mop, with greys sticking out at odd angles, and laugh lines were indented around his mouth.
He peered around the room and inspected his shoes, “Nice place you have here love, I’m just on my collecting rounds. It’s always nice to come to a nice house, not like that last one - Oh, how thoughtless of me, what would your name be miss?” He spoke in a fast, high pitched voice, with a hint of an Irish accent.
“V…Vanessa,” she stuttered back, “Vanessa McMillian.” She shook her head and fear was replaced by utter annoyance. This man has just come into her room, by means of a book, woken her up, and started blabbering on at midnight.
“Now, just who do you think you are, coming to chat, by means of a book, and woken me up at this time of night?”
“Pardon me? I would be Eric and I am dreadfully sorry if I awoke you, but business is business after all.” The man’s eye widened and popped slightly out of his rounded head, reminding Vanessa of a toad she’d caught back in fourth year, “And, I’ll have you know, it was not my wish to come here young lady, I only do the bidding of him himself.”
She raised an eyebrow, “Who himself?”
“You know, up there!” He crossly jerked his hand skyward, following it with his eyes, until he noted Vanessa’s blank expression and sighed, “The father! The one and only! The Trilogy! God!”
“But, I’m not at all religious, I mean my Aunty is, but we barley speak to her. Anyhow, What on earth would he want with me?”
The man bit his lip, “No, no no! It’s nothing to do with you; he just wants his book.”
She pursed her lips and stayed silent as he continued to speak, “Anyway, enough talk, I must get this back or he’ll have my head, lovely to meet you Miss McMillian.”
“I always thought god was nice,” she began, but there was another pop and the man, along with the book disappeared in an instant. Normality had returned.
She walked very slowly back to the comfort of her duvet, rattled by the confusion and the shock, and said to herself, “I will never, ever again leave a library book overdue.”