Nighttime Visit

The bathroom, when he eventually found it, nestled away at the back of the lodge, was a shock to Charlie as he entered. He’d expected something more old-fashioned and rustic, like the rest of the lodge. But clearly this room had been recently modernised and more importantly, was absent of Gonks. Which he was grateful for as he walked over to the toilet itself and began to take a piss. The sound of urine hitting the toilet bowl quickly follows.

Just as Charlie was finishing his business. With the sun beginning its descent, he hears something in the room with him. And turning around, hurriedly doing up the flies on his jeans in the process, he looks around the room.

“Err. Hello?” Charlie asked the empty room, his nerves on the ragged edge. He even rushed to the window, trying to see if the sound might have come from outside instead. But it was completely fogged over due to the cold outside. “Is that you Jonah? This isn’t funny.”

No answering sound came. Charlie waits and watches, trying to catch out whoever had made the sound. The undeclared standoff continues, until Charlie, starting to get bored finally shrugs and finishes up before exiting the room into the upstairs hallway. In contrast to the bathroom, the long dark corridor didn’t look like it had been touched since the lodge was built. The carpet squished underfoot, and the wooden walls were starting to be chipped away.

As he continued to his room, which as luck would have it, was at the direct opposite end of the lodge after Jonah had taken the best room for himself, kicking Charlie out in the process. He stops outside his parent’s room, the sound of the first argument of the holiday coming through the wooden door.

“The Boy has got to grow up some time.” His Dad said, he sounded agitated, maybe this was about him laughing during his Dad’s instruction briefing.

“I mean. He’s only drawing, Monty. It’s not harming anyone.” His Mum counted.

 There it was, the real reason for the argument, his Dad hated his hobby. It was a usual point of contention between the two of them.

“I thought when Charles finally started dating Holly, then this fad would end.” Monty said exasperated. Probably thinking that his hobby had cost him his girlfriend.

“What’s wrong with him having a hobby?” Skyla asked. That was true, Jonah had a hobby. Sure, it seemed to revolve around making his life a living hell, but he also had other interests outside of that.

“If only it was that. But when I asked Charles what he wanted to do with his life. He told me that he wanted to draw.” His Dad said. That had been an awkward conversation the previous summer. His Dad banging on about how drawing wasn’t a real job.

“So? He’s still a kid. And after that girl dumped him. Well drawing makes him happy.” His Mum said. His Mum never said Holly’s name anymore, not since the breakup. Charlie wasn’t sure how he felt about that though. His Mum was trying to be supportive. But he wasn’t convinced that it was helping him either.

This defence though, did not go well, as the sound of his Dad slamming his fist on a wooden surface, probably the wall, came through loud and clear. And his reply doubled down on that fact.

“Skyla. There is a reason the phrase ‘starving artist’ exists. And he’s thirteen now. It’s about time he grows up.” Monty said. The battle was over, Charlie knew, his Mum at least did, as she did not respond to that statement. “I’ll talk about it with him in the morning. See if I can set him straight on the facts of life.”

Knowing that this was the end of the discussion. Charlie stops eaves dropping knowing that neither one of his parents would like to discover him sneaking about.

Walking back to his own room, Charlie closed the door as quietly as he could, before throwing himself onto the bed. It was a double, like the one he had back home, but slightly more comfortable.

After the last of the sunlight disappears through the windows to the bedroom. Charlie sits up in his bed, scrolling through his phone; looking at the pictures of Holly, the last memories he had of her before she’d broken up with him just prior to coming here. Laying around him were scrunched up bits of paper, drawings that he’d started, only to discard in rapid succession. He needed to be in the mindset to work, but every time he started, his mind would go back to the conversation he overheard.

“Stupid.” Charlie said to himself, throwing his phone onto the duvet covers. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” Brushing the tears from out of his eyes, he tried to fall asleep. Hoping that it would improve his artist’s block.

But just as he was about to close his eyes. Charlie was distracted by a tapping sound on the wooden floor. The same sound that had come from the bathroom.

Quickly, he flipped his phone back on and turned the phone’s torch towards the sound, using it to scan his room. It could be rats, their old place had been full of them. He remembered the way that they’d scurried about in the roof. He even remembered seeing one. It was dead, caught in one of the many traps that his Dad had bought. But what came now, was how he’d felt. His Dad had been pleased with the catch. All Charlie remembered was just feeling sorry for the creature and how it had met its end.

The light from his phone scans across the room, illuminating everything but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. That was until it hits one of The Gonks from downstairs.

The Gonk squeaks and runs away from the light. Charlie nearly jumps out of his bed in fright at the creature. But he manages to slam his hand over his mouth to prevent his own screams in the knick of time.

The Gonk, blinded by the light rushes into the wardrobe, slamming the door behind it. Just as his Dad enters the room.

“What’s going on in here?” Monty said, looking around the room.

Charlie who was now hugging his legs in shock and fright, doesn’t even look at his Dad, his gaze instead was kept squarely focussed on the wardrobe.

“Charles. Are you alright?” His Dad said.

Charles, again. That wasn’t his name. But it had the effect of making Charlie come back to his senses. He nods, taking his gaze of the wardrobe. The torch, he also turned off. he didn’t want his Dad to find out where the Creature was. This was his thing. And he was going to protect it, like he hadn’t been able to protect that rat.

“Alright then. No drawing; lights out.” His Dad said, giving one more quizzical look around the room. As if he was trying to catch him out in a lie. Charlie tried to keep his face as neutral as possible. Though thoughts of what he’d overheard came flooding back to him.

“Yes sir.” Charlie said, annoyed that he was being told what to do on his holiday. But for the sake of the thing in his wardrobe, he agreed to his Dad’s demands.

Once the door closes, Charlie rushes out of his bed, and hurries over to the wardrobe, which was shaking slightly from the terrified creature.

Slowly, he opens the door, revealing The Creature huddled in the far corner. It’s hair shaking as frantically as its body.

“What are you?” Charlie said. He’d meant to ask, who are you? But that didn’t seem as important as finding what this thing was. And more importantly, how much trouble he’d be in. He was pretty sure that keeping a potentially dangerous creature in his room was sure to be on his Dad’s, do not do list.

The Creature looked up, though its white hair obscured its view, it began pointing at itself indecently.

“Gonk. Gonk.” The Gonk said.

“Gonk?” Charlie said. This was mental, he checked his head to make sure that he hadn’t hit it at some point since leaving the bathroom. He brought up nothing though.

The Gonk, however, began nodding its head furiously at this.

“Gonk. Gonk.” The Gonk said and as quick as it had entered the wardrobe, it was out again, leaping onto the bed.

Then suddenly The Gonk stopped in mid jump, like it had suddenly forgotten something. Then it began jabbing its fingers at Charlie.

“Me?” Charlie said, taking a moment to realise what The Gonk was asking him. “Charlie. Err Human.” Then at the still curious look from The Gonk, he continued. “Friend.”

The Gonk began tilting its head from side to side, like an inquisitive Terrier that didn’t exactly know what was in front of it.

“Fwrend?” The Gonk asked, looking at Charlie through its white hair.

“Friend.” Charlie said slowly, and to emphasise the point he smiled and pointed at himself.

The Gonk stopped tilting its head, and slowly walking across his bed. Then it noticed the picture still on Charlie’s phone, and pointed at it.

“Friend?” The Gonk said, and seeing that the creature was looking at the picture of Holly that he still had on his lock screen, a picture of them at the local cinema. And Charlie understood what the Gonk was talking about.

“Kinda?” Charlie said, not sure how much of this he wanted to get into with a thing that had just scared him half to death. Heck, he had been reluctant to talk about it with his own parents. But then, at the further head tilt, Charlie elaborated. He couldn’t refuse, it was like refusing a puppy. “I like her. But she doesn’t like me anymore.”

Despite himself, Charlie wiped a tear that had come into his eye.

“Me. Be. Charlie friend.” The Gonk spoke in its broken English that Charlie was already starting to come to terms with.

Before Charlie could even come up with a response to that statement. A banging sound came from his door.

This was it. His Dad was going to come barging in, and demand to know who he was talking too. And then probably send him to the looney bin when he got his answer.

The loud noises causes The Gonk to jump into the air and begin running towards the door, planting itself directly at the base to prevent it from being opened. Which worked surprisingly well as The Gonk did not move, yet the door continued rattling.