Open Writing

My mate Margaret, who's now a widow, told me this story.

As a child in Brisbane she and Carol were best friends. Their mothers had gone to school together, and the bond between the families was strong. Although Margaret didn't learn this until years later, Carol was psychic, and from childhood had many opportunities to explore her gift.

Margaret grew up, married, moved away from the district. She lost touch with Carol, and in 1974, at thirty-two, she and her husband moved to a small town on the Darling Downs, where they purchased a modest house.

This house was a typical workers' cottage, probably built towards the end of the nineteenth century, featuring a high-pitched central roof with gable sides, a verandah across the front under a skillion roof, and a similar skillion over the rear rooms.

Town water had long since been provided, and when Margaret and her husband moved in they removed a rusted water tank and tank-stand that stood alongside the kitchen.

This kitchen had been little improved over time, however it did contain a recently built-in dresser. Amongst other things, this dresser held six china mugs, located on cup-hooks below one of the shelves.

One day, two of the mugs vanished. Just like that. Not left somewhere around the house, nor in the yard, where Margaret and her neighbour Wendy occasionally took tea; these possibilities were checked and re-checked. They had simply vanished.

Margaret and her mother in Brisbane kept in touch via cassette tapes, and in due course the tale of the missing mugs was passed along.

Besides being a housewife, mother, and artist of some repute, Margaret was, and is, an animal lover. At one time or another she had a 'roo, a fox, four or five dogs, ducks, turkeys, bantams, chooks, a pig, a cow, a sheep, twenty-five cats, and one extremely bossy pigeon who kept all the cats in their place. This has little to do with anything except to show her affinity with animals, which is important in light of what happened next.

At night, especially in cold weather, the cats slept inside. A bed, or anywhere warm and comfortable, was theirs by rule of occupancy. During the day however, if housework was to be done, it was a different story. Then Margaret was busy shooing them outside in order to carry out chores like washing the floor. And it was a battle - they never wanted to leave. But one morning about three weeks after The Disappearance, the cats suddenly left the house and congregated on the back step, refusing to put a single paw back inside. And they were certainly not frightened of Margaret. In the act of filling her mop bucket, Margaret noticed the cats, and simultaneously a most strange feeling ran through her. 'Spooky, sort of’, was how she put it. And 'something' made her glance around towards the dresser.

There they were. All six mugs, just as they had been weeks before. Except that two were filthy, with brown stains down their outsides.

Margaret was petrified. Somehow she found her way to the back yard and noticed Wendy in her own garden. Margaret made her way to the fence, as white as a sheet, whereupon Wendy asked; 'Are you alright? Whatever's wrong?'

The mugs are back', was all Margaret could manage.

Gradually, she recovered sufficiently to get through the day. When her husband returned home that evening she asked if he had perhaps found them the previous night or that morning, and returned them. His response was negative.

Then another cassette tape was received from Brisbane. Carol had been in touch with Margaret's mother. She wanted to contact Margaret but didn't know where she was. Carol revealed she had a message for her from 'the other side'.

And Carol's story, as relayed by Margaret's mother, finally gave the answer.

I want you to tell Margaret I've been contacted by two carpenters. One is named Bill. I don't know the other's name. They told me they built the house that Margaret lives in. They had to come back to do some repairs and became thirsty while working. They wanted to make some tea but had nothing to drink it in, so they borrowed two of Margaret's china mugs. And they wanted me to tell Margaret they were sorry they had to return the mugs dirty, but the tank was gone and so they had no water to rinse them.’

Makes your hair stand on end, doesn't it?

© Michel Hart