A Benevolent Omen

“Mum? Would you rather wait out here until it gets dark than say goodbye to me?” Paula turned with a start. In the middle distance, she saw a woman leaning in the building’s doorframe, arms crossed. The woman was neatly dressed, with thick brown hair tucked behind her ears to expose her hard, lined face. It took Paula a few moments to realise she was looking at her daughter. What was her name again? Emily? Amelia? Something like that.

“Of course not,” Paula called back, nervously fiddling with the silver rose pendant at her chest. She never took the necklace off; her late husband had given it to her. “I was just…looking for something.” Paula turned away from her daughter to continue scanning the area around her. Stretching out from the brick-walled building was an expanse of brown, dying grass. Beyond that, dozens of papery gumtrees concealed the tall metal fencing that prevented Paula and her fellow denizens from wandering out into the vast countryside. The fence was hardly necessary. With arthritis eating away at Paula’s joints, the prospect of escaping had never appealed to her. The edge of the dead lawn – where she was standing now – was the furthest her frail legs had ever been able to carry her away from the care facility.

What was she looking for again? And why did she expect to find it out here, in the waning light? Paula chuckled to herself, shaking her head. She was always –

“Mum!” A harsh, angry voice pulled Paula from her thoughts. The old woman turned. Her daughter was making her way towards her with aggressive strides that crushed the dead grass underfoot. “Amelia?” Paula frowned. “When did you get here?” The younger woman stopped, sighing loudly in a rather dramatic display of frustration. “I’ve been here all afternoon,” she ground out. She took a deep breath and forcefully softened her expression. “I’m leaving now, so you should come inside with me.” Her voice was a little gentler now. Paula reluctantly nodded, and together they made their way back to the building.

…

Paula stood silently as the receptionist at the front desk made pleasant small talk with her daughter. She didn’t bother listening in to what they were saying. Instead, she focused on the dull hum of the florescent lights above her as the other two chattered away. It was funny, she thought, how she and her daughter had swapped roles. It seemed like only yesterday when Amelia would timidly pull at Paula’s skirt, silently pleading with her to end her conversation with a friend Paula had bumped into at the grocery store. Now, the older woman shuffled from foot to foot as she impatiently waited for the two younger women to finish their empty conversation. Yes, it was funny. But not in a way that made Paula laugh.

The woman felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up, eyes watering a little in the brightness as she made out the shape of a man. She squinted in the florescent light, then smiled softly as she made out the rest of his features: brown eyes, thick black hair, gentle smile. His name was David. David was a lovely young man, as well as Paula’s favourite nurse at the facility.

“You about ready for bed, Paula?” David asked. Paula frowned, then shook her head.

“I think I’ve forgotten something,” the woman replied. Amelia turned from the receptionist to look at her mother.

“Are you still going on about that, Mum?” she asked with a tight smile that stretched the lines at her mouth. Amelia looked up at the nurse, and a more natural smile graced her lips. “She said something similar when we were outside,” the woman explained. “Something about – Oh!” Amelia gave a startled little laugh. She was looking at something behind David. Paula followed her daughter’s line of vision to the bottom of the entry doors opposite to the receptionist’s desk. A white, heart-shaped face with beady black eyes was peering in at them from the footpath on the other side of the glass door. David laughed.

“Look Paula, your little friend’s come to say hello.” Paula smiled and gave an excited little wave to the barn owl outside. The bird gave a dramatic tilt of its head, holding the woman’s gaze with dark, intense eyes.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Paula murmured softly. She absentmindedly ran her thumb over her rose pendant as she continued to stare at the bird’s pale face.

“This little guy has been coming here every night for a few weeks now,” David explained to Amelia. “I reckon he only comes here to see Paula – that’s why we let her wait outside for him most evenings.”

Amelia frowned thoughtfully. “Is this what you were looking for, Mum?” Before Paula could answer, Amelia added, “I really should visit you more. You must be bored to tears if you’ve resorted to befriending birds.”

“I’m not bored,” Paula contradicted, realising a moment later that her daughter was probably joking.

“Well then, that works out well for both of us,” said Amelia. “I might head off now – is that bird going to move?” The owl in question had been silently watching Paula, but at Amelia’s words, its eyes latched onto the younger woman. Paula’s daughter immediately froze, wide eyes locked onto the bird outside.

“You ‘right?” David asked jokingly, but when Amelia didn’t respond, he frowned in concern. The nurse made to step towards her, but a second later, Amelia blinked and awkwardly cleared her throat. “I’m alright,” she chuckled. “Just not the biggest fan of birds, that’s all.” As if the owl had understood her, it blinked once, turned, then silently flew off into the darkness.

…

Later that night, Paula lay in bed listening to the soft pattering of rain outside her bedroom window. She couldn’t sleep. The sounds outside would have been soothing, if not for the harsh rap of dozens of rogue raindrops that seemed to be colliding with her metal windowsill. Paula sighed and sat up. Apparently, a good night’s rest wasn’t going to come easily. The offbeat drumming outside became louder and more difficult to ignore, as though demanding her attention. Frowning, Paula turned on her bedside lamp and pulled back her floral curtains. A familiar set of beady black eyes was staring intently at her through the glass.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” she whispered to her avian friend. The bird blinked slowly, then began tapping sporadically against the windowsill. Every now and then, the bird would stop and look up, as though expecting a response from Paula. When she didn’t do anything, the owl continued his harsh pecking. “I think you’re being silly,” Paula murmured, but her voice was filled with affection. “Do you want me to copy you?” The bird looked up again and blinked at her. Paula shrugged and tapped a frail finger against the bedside wall – she’d already forgotten the bird’s pattern, but she figured he’d at least appreciate her efforts.

He didn’t.

The owl puffed up, seeming to grow twice his original size, and let out a harsh, piercing shriek. Paula shrank away from the bird in surprise. Before she could recover, he turned and vanished into the night. A very rattled Paula peered through the window in the hopes that her friend would return. The woman spent long minutes staring out into the night, absolutely dumbfounded, before giving up and settling back under the blankets. The infernal tapping was gone, the hushed rain was still falling, but it took Paula a long time to get to sleep that night.

…

The next day followed the same routine as almost every day before it. Paula woke up at six a.m., was showered and dressed by a female nurse named Jess at seven a.m., and ate bland cereal in the shared dining hall at 8 a.m. These early morning hours – if Paula could trust her memory – always passed slowly and uneventfully. The woman’s day only ever picked up at 10 a.m., when David arrived for his shift. Now, at 10:30 am, several residents were sitting in the living room, staring blankly at the old TV. Others were still in their rooms, either shuffling around the bed or lying down and staring up at vague patterns on the ceiling. In the community kitchen, Paula and David were hunched over a laminated sheet and notebook.

“Alright Paula,” said David. “Now you choose a word, and I’ll try to read it.” Paula paused for a moment as she processed what he said, then slowly wrote down a short, coded word: dash dash dash – dot dash dash – dot dash dot dot.

David’s eyes flicked between the notebook and the laminated translation key as he deciphered Paula’s code. “O…W…L….” David grinned. “Of course,” he chuckled, and wrote “owl” under Paula’s message. Paula smiled, then yawned.

“Okay, now I’m going to write a word for you.” David scrawled a second code onto the page. It took Paula five minutes to figure out the five-letter word: “tired”. Paula rubbed her eyes and sighed.

“I don’t think I had a very good sleep last night,” she admitted. She felt a twinge of guilt. She didn’t want to sound like she was complaining.

“How come?”

“I don’t remember,” she muttered. Her necklace swayed against her neck as she slumped forward in defeat. David hummed in sympathy.

“Y’know Paula,” David began. “I heard that these sorts of brain teasers are supposed help with that.”

“Help me remember why I can’t sleep?”

“Help stop you forgetting things. By increasing something called your neuroplasticity.” He wrote the last word down for her. “Do you want to try translating this into Morse code?” he asked.

“I think I’m alright, thank you.”

“No worries – but yeah, I definitely think you should have an earlier night tonight.” He moved his chair a little closer to the table. “You’re going to need your energy. You know what day it is tomorrow, right?” Paula frowned and shook her head. “It should be up on your calendar – it’s your birthday!” The woman’s frown deepened.

“How old am I turning?” she asked.

“Twenty-five.”

Paula playfully swatted at David’s arm.

“Oh, whoops,” David chuckled. “I meant to say ninety-five.” Ninety-five. Paula had outlived her husband by an entire decade.

“And what will I be doing on my ninety-fifth birthday?” Paula asked.

“Well, you’ll be doing what you do every year. You’re going to go over to your daughter’s place to spend a few nights.”

…

After dinner, David escorted Paula back to her room to help her prepare. The woman sat on the edge of the bed and told David which clothes to pack into her small travel bag. When he was done sorting the clothing, he placed the laminated Morse code key and notebook inside the bag so she could practice while she was away. He set the bag on the tiny desk adjacent to the bed. The digital clock on Paula’s bedside table read 8 p.m. David stood up straight and stretched. “Alrighty Paula,” he said. “That’s the end of my shift – is there anything else you need before I go?”

Paula shook her head. “Oh no, you’ve done quite enough for me today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” David cocked his head.

“Paula, remember what we were talking about earlier?” he asked gently. “It’s your birthday tomorrow. Amelia’s going to pick you up at around 9:30, and you’re going to stay with her for a few days.” Paula blinked in confusion. No, she did not remember.

“Anyway,” David continued. “You’ll be gone before my next shift, so I won’t see you for a few days.” Paula still didn’t quite understand this sudden break in her routine, but she nodded, letting David wish her an early happy birthday before heading off. Paula’s night-time nurse – Jess – came in a few minutes later to help her change into her pyjamas. Jess didn’t mention Paula’s birthday.

…

Paula couldn’t sleep. Something was tapping at her window. Sighing in exasperation, Paula sat up, turned on her bedside lamp, and pulled back the curtains. Two beady eyes were staring at her from the other side of the glass. “Oh, darling,” Paula yawned. “I think I’m too tired to be good company at the moment.” The owl ruffled his feathers, then continued his harsh tapping against the windowsill. Every few seconds, the bird would look up expectantly at Paula, then create a new sporadic pattern of taps. Paula silently watched, entranced by his strange behaviour. When a few minutes had passed with Paula making no effort to respond to the bird’s ministrations, he let out a short shriek of distress, then began to tap directly onto Paula’s window. His eyes were set on something behind her.

Paula followed his line of vision to the small travel bag on the desk behind her. When Paula pulled the bag onto her lap, the owl gave a small jump of excitement and tapped even louder against the glass. The old woman opened the bag and pulled out the contents closest to the surface. In her wrinkled hands were a laminated Morse code translation key and notebook. “You’re a clever little bird, aren’t you?” murmured Paula in astonishment. The owl responded with a single tap against the window. “Do you…want me to translate what you’re tapping?” The owl tapped another short pattern against the glass.

“Well,” Paula said, “I’m sure I’m dreaming, but we might as well give it a go.”

…

Paula sat at her little desk, carefully copying down the dashes and dots that the owl tapped against the glass. It took her about three minutes to translate the first word: Amelia. Paula turned to stare at her friend outside. “Goodness me!” Paula exclaimed softly. “I really am dreaming.” Paula continued transcribing and translated the bird’s code with a sense of elation. Despite her struggling to keep up, she pressed on with determination, a wide grin across her face the entire time. That is, until she managed to translate four of the owl’s words.

Amelia will kill you.

…

Just like on every other morning, Jess entered Paula’s room to help her shower and get changed. However, unlike every morning before this one, Paula wasn’t waiting in bed. Jess peered around the room, slightly confused, before spotting the old woman all huddled up on the far side of her little desk.

“Oh, Paula,” Jessica sighed. “What are you doing?” At the sound of the nurse’s voice, Paula shrank back a little further against the wall. She didn’t respond.

“Come on Paula, can you please get up? Your daughter’s going to be here soon.” Jess made her way over to the older woman and bent down to grip her wrists. Before she could, Paula’s hands snapped up, finger’s digging into the nurse’s forearms. Jess gasped, looking up at the other woman. Paula’s eyes were wide and shining with tears.

“Please don’t make me go,” Paula begged, her voice wavering. Jess frowned, kneeling down in front of her patient.

“Why don’t you want to go?” Jess had never seen the woman behave like this before.

“She’s going to kill me,” sobbed Paula, thick tears overflowing and spilling down her pale cheeks. “Amelia, she’s…she wants to take everything I have!” Paula sniffled and released the nurse’s arms to wipe away her tears.

“Paula,” Jess began, a hint of concern in her voice. “Why would you say something so terrible about your daughter?” The old woman jabbed a finger towards the window.

“The owl!” she wailed. “He told me – he told me last night.” The younger woman’s face hardened. She stood up.

“Ok Paula,” she sighed. “You know what you’re saying is silly. It sounds to me like you had a nightmare.” Her patient sniffled miserably.

“He wouldn’t lie to me…” she protested weakly. She solemnly gripped the silver rose at her chest. “He’s a good boy.”

Jess fought the urge to roll her eyes, then helped the other woman up and led her into the bathroom.

…

When David arrived for his shift at 10:30 a.m., he immediate sought Jess out to ask her how Paula’s morning was. He found her in the shared kitchen washing the used plates.

“She was a bit of a pain today, I won’t lie to you,” Jess said, pulling the plug out of the sink. She turned to grab a hand towel, and while she wiped her hands dry, she explained what Paula had told her earlier that morning.

“You should have seen her when Amelia got here – she kept grabbing my wrist, like she was trying to ask me to let her stay.” Jess rolled her eyes. “That poor daughter. She drives all the way out here to pick up her mum, and Paula won’t even look at her.” David bit back an angry retort. Taking a deep breath, he asked Jess if Paula had said anything else before she left. Jess frowned thoughtfully, then her eyes widened as if she’d remembered something. “Oh yeah,” she said, dropping the hand towel onto the bench. “She asked if you could go with her.”

…

Later that day, after checking in on several other elderly residents, David went into Paula’s room to place a small, gift-wrapped box on her bedside table. Inside it was a gold daisy hung on a thin chain. He’d forgotten to give it to her yesterday, but figured it’d be a nice surprise for her when she got back. On his way out of the room, he noticed the notebook lying on Paula’s desk. Scrawled all over the exposed page were lines of dashes and dots, as well as their translations. David scanned the writing with wide eyes.

Amelia will kill you.

She wants your inheritance.

Tomorrow.

David took a deep breath, desperately trying to find a believable explanation for what he was seeing. Paula had been exhausted yesterday. Could she have written this last night, in a state of psychosis? David couldn’t think of any other explanation. That had to be it.

David managed to keep himself from worrying about Paula for several more hours. By the end of his shift, he’d managed to expel most of his doubts about Paula’s safety. That is, until he left the building. As David was making his way to the carpark just past the gates, he heard a blood chilling screech somewhere in the darkness above him. Seconds later, a white streak sped past him, then landed on the bitumen in front of him. Heart beating in his chest, David turned on his phone’s flashlight to see what it was.

He sighed in relief. It was the owl. However, he froze in shock the moment he saw what was clasped in the night bird’s beak.

It was a silver rose necklace.