Emerald Oasis Chapter Two: The Rabbit That Turned Into A Wolf

It was Joyce Patrick's first night at Emerald Oasis Nursing Home. Her room was number eighteen on the red unit. Joyce didn't quite understand why it was called the red unit when the walls were white and the carpet was purple. The other unit appeared to be the same. That was known as the blue unit.

Her first day in her new home seemed pleasant. The food was edible, the staff were pleasant and the other residents had interesting personalities. She enjoyed talking about knitting with a lady called Victoria. But she felt the conversation was cut short when a carer whizzed her off to bed after suppertime.

Her room was pleasant enough. Cleo hadn't finished moving all of Joyce's possessions from her old flat to here. The room felt like an empty canvas. Cleo was off this weekend, so she was sure that Cleo would start bringing more stuff in from home later. When she rolled over towards the window she saw that the clock. It was midnight and all she could hear was the footsteps of the night staff.

She couldn't bring herself to sleep. There was too much that she wanted to see. It wasn't long until she decided that she had enough and hopped out of bed to discover the home for herself. There was no point being in bed if she was wide awake, she thought. She opened the door and the corridor was dark with the exception of dim lights hanging from the ceiling.

She followed the purple path that leads to the garden. The door was tightly shut. She would have to wait until the morning before she could enter the garden again. She wondered if the fairies were sleeping or staying up. She could see orbs of pastel colours floating around outside the window. She wanted to fall through the glass and get inside.

She hoped that the fairies wouldn't mind that she was in her nightie. The nightdress she had one was nothing like the ones she had at home, it was a blue dress with lots of pandas. It was one of the new nighties that Cleo had bought her when she moved here.

She wondered if Cleo was going to bring some other clothes in. She hoped the weekend would come quicker, otherwise her daughter, Maxine would claim it for herself.

Her daughter Maxine was good at spending other people's money. She was unemployed and relied on her sugar daddy of a husband to pay her bills. She didn't see Maxine very often, but when she did certain things started to go missing.

She wouldn't be surprised if Maxine had flogged all her stuff. She hoped that Cleo would have intervened. But the two of them had been quarrelling ever since they were babies. As soon as Maxine moved out, Cleo did his best to avoid any form of conversation with him. They're even blocked on Facebook.

Joyce believed that something had happened outside of the home that made them resent each other so much. When Joyce was active on Facebook she uploaded a picture of herself and both her children and both of them had asked her to take it down. They didn't want to be seen together even if it was just a picture.

She wouldn't be surprised if she never saw Maxine again. She thought it was quite pathetic really. Maxine's son really got on well with Cleo's lads. She couldn't remember what Maxine's son was called, it was some sort of foreign name that she couldn't pronounce let alone spell.

Maxine's lad would have been in his twenties now. She had only seen that grandson twice. She thought that was quite poor. That was two decades worth of sweets and presents that Joyce would never be able to give to her grandson. The last time she saw Maxine was when she was confined to silver rails in a hospital bed.

Maxine was only there for five minutes. "Oh, you're here. I'm not needed then."

One look at Cleo was all that was needed for her to leave. Joyce wasn't sure if she even wanted Maxine to visit after all of that. Whenever she tried to ask Cleo what happened, he would try to change the subject into something else. Normally sports or Doctor Who.

Needless to say, Maxine hated it. Anything Cleo loved was what Maxine hated. Joyce was pretty sure that Maxine hated her as well. She wandered off into the blue unit to see if there anything worth seeing. On the first door to her left, she found a library. In the library,  a canine figure hiding under the table.

Joyce scurried towards the table and crouched over. She loved animals of all kinds, especially cats and dogs. "Aren't you beautiful!" Joyce admired the creature's silver fur and golden eyes. "Why don't you hop on my lap." Joyce felt the full weight of the creature as its paws clung onto Joyce. "Oh! You're a big puppy."

"I'm a wolf, madam."

"Oh," Joyce was excited. It was the first time she was this close to a wolf before. "And do you have a name?"

"Larry," the wolf said. "I'm technically a werewolf but something went wrong in my genes so I turn into a rabbit instead of a human."

"How peculiar," Joyce said, stroking Larry's ear. "By the way, do you know how to get into the garden?"

Larry shook his head. "Then they lock the building up at night. How long have you been here?"

"It's my first night here. I saw something outside the window just now. Are they the fairies?"

"You ought to be careful of them," Larry warned. "They can be very mischievous when they want to be."

"I met one called Emily," Joyce said. "And she was lovely."

"Hush!" Larry whispered. "They're coming. I better change back into a rabbit."

Joyce leaned towards Larry. "Pardon?"

Larry curled up in a ball and shrank into a rabbit. Larry was a lot lighter now and she was able to pick him up. "Isn't this amazing?" Joyce said as she lifted Larry above her head. She sat him on the table and stood up. She noticed that two shadows hung over her. She turned around and gasped. Two witches in blue robes stood in front of her.

"Hello there Joyce," One of them said. "Do you want to go back to your room?"

Joyce shook her head. "Not really. I wanted to explore the place. I've seen fairies and wolfs that turn into rabbits."

"Huh?" the other witch said.

"You two are witches aren't you?" Joyce said. "Well, you've got the crooked nose and broomsticks to go with it."

"But we're not holding anything."

Joyce leaned over and read the names on the badges that the witches wore. The one on the left was called Sally and the one on the right was called Ruth. Then she noticed that the broomsticks that were in their hands not so long ago had no vanished.

"This place is magic!" Joyce cried out. "I love it here."

She raced through more corridors until she found two of her old neighbours in one of the corridors. Marjorie Jerk was picking on Lee Chow again. They used to live across the road from her. Making them next door neighbours again was one of the worst things possible for poor Lee. Joyce remembered Lee babysitting her kids when she went out with Oscar. Lee Chow used to own the Chinese takeaway next to the parish church: it was the only takeaway in the village, but they did have a small British menu along with other oriental dishes around the world. Joyce could never understand why a hut so small could create hundreds of different dishes a day. Lee's son took over. Last time she heard about the takeaway,  they closed it for refurbishment.

Joyce knew that Lee had a big family, but she'd only seen troopers and retired soldiers visit. Marjorie used to be crafty when no one was around, she'd start shouting at Lee and use her own brand of feminism to make her look like the victim. Marjorie never married and her children were taken into care because of her bad habits. Joyce had as much sympathy for her as the number of feathers on a cat.

Marjorie Jerk, thrice the size of Lee Chow thought she could win any scrap against him. Her self-proclaimed bulk was nothing more than generous padding around her voluptuous frame.

"You keep stealing my stuff," Marjorie yelled at Lee, stomping around in her pink slippers and ill-fitting clothes. "Go back to your own county, Ching!"

"My name is Lee. Sergeant Lee Chow to you." With Lee Chow's soft voice and generosity he gives towards his neighbours and carers, nobody would expect him to have been a Sergeant in the military. "And for your information, I was born in this country."

"Liar!" Marjorie roared. She charged into Lee's door and tried to open the door. She glared at Lee. "Let me in. I want my stuff back!"

"I did not steal your stuff!"

"Yes, you did." Marjorie was persistent. She held the door handle one hand and tried bringing the door down to her door. "You've stolen all my clothes and ate all my biscuits."

Joyce knew that wasn't true. She marched across the corridor stood in front of Lee's door. She put her clothes in the laundry skip the same time as her, and Marjorie at all her biscuits in the dining room on top of her fish and chips. "Leave him alone. You put the clothes in the laundry skip earlier. And you ate all your biscuits."

"No, I never."

"Yes you did," Joyce said. "I saw you."

"You weren't even on my table."

"You were on the one next to me."

"Oh stop getting involved," Marjorie cried. "This bloke keeps stealing my stuff."

"He's not even been in your room."

"Well my clothes are missing I need someone to blame."

"You're a racist bitch trying to justify your racist shit!"

 Lee Chow started marching away, swinging in full motion. When Marjorie noticed he was gone, she snarled and clenched Joyce's fist. "You wicked old cow! You let him escape. We must call the police on him. He might be trying to blow us up."

Joyce winced and rustled her arm. "LET GO!"

Marjorie's eyes glowed an unpleasant shade of red as she leaned her head over to crunch Joyce's arms. They both screamed. Something had landed on Joyce's foot. Marjorie lost focus and pinched her foot. Joyce kicked her head in self-defence. As soon as she saw Emily, she went behind her. Marjorie rolled over on the floor with her dentures in her hand.

Marjorie wailed. Guilt hit Joyce like a ton of bricks.

"Let's go back to Larry and Coco," Emily suggested.

"What about Marjorie? Should we help her?"

Emily ran away. "No, leave her be."

"SUZY!" cried out the slender man running around the corridor. "SUZY? Where are you? Please say something?"

Joyce knew the man well. "Are you all right Mr Mill?"

"Yes," Mr Mill warbled, holding onto his torch. "I'm looking for my daughter. The police aren't doing anything about it. So I'm taking matters into my own hands. Just because I'm old, doesn't mean I should give up. "

"I understand," Joyce said. "I just wish I could help you."

"It's alright," Mr Mill croaked. "Your support means a lot to me, Mrs Patrick. My wife Mildred, wouldn't want me to give up just because she's gone. I have a feeling she's still alive. I've seen her children at school."

"You have?"

"Yeah, they were in Cup-And-Saucer street picking up daffodils. I knew it was them: they had her eyes. The toymaker brought them up."

"Maybe you should ask him?" Joyce suggested.

"I try," Mr Mill admitted. "But he tells me to bugger off. Right, I better keep looking."

"All right then," Joyce said. "Goodnight Mr Mill."

"Goodnight...SUZY? SUZY? WHERE ARE YOU? COME BACK!" Marjorie Jerk stood up and started banging on Lee Chow's door. Mr Mill tiptoed towards her. "Excuse me, have you seen my daughter?"

"No," Marjorie said. "But I bet Lee Chow does. I bet he's had his wicked way with her."

"Please," Mr Mill said. "Your hatred is not helpful."

"What do you mean?"

"You blame him for everything."

"Because he's an evil bastard. He let my brother die."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to. He's a nice man. Done so much for me and this village."

"All he's ever done is give the village food poisoning."

"That's not true," Mr Mill said. "I used to go to his takeaway all the time before coming here. Nothing wrong with the food at all. Anyway, you never eat there! How can you get food poisoning from him?"

"When are you going to stop picking on people?" Joyce asked Marjorie. "You've been terribly unkind to Mr Chow, and now you're picking on Mr Mill – I'm not having this anymore."

"Keep your nose out of it," Marjorie hissed.

"Well if you don't listen to me..." Joyce folded her arms as she spoke. "Then you should answer to the fairies."

Mr Mill turned around and waved his torch at Joyce. "The fairies?"

"Ha! Is that meant to scare me?" Marjorie howled. "I'm not scared of some flying midgets, cause they don't even exist."

"I'll leave you ladies to it," Mr Mill muttered and headed off to the other direction. "SUZY? SUZY? SUZY?"

Emily rushed to Joyce. "Don't waste your time on her: she's a psychopath."

"She's always been like that."

"I feel sorry for Mr Mill. He has no idea that his daughter is dead. I don't know if he has any idea where he is. Watching him roam the corridors crying out his daughter's name is a powerful moment to watch. Who needs a TV?"

Joyce bit her lip and frowned at the fairy. "I don't think that was an appropriate comment."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't take pleasure out of watching somebody in pain: it's cruelty."

"I don't mean it like that. What I mean is that it's got more impact then it has with stuff on the TV. Everything on the television is fake: even the news. Fairy TV has it too: some human shows and fairy rip-offs of the popular TV shows like Call Of Magic, Celebration Street, Fair Enders, Interview With A Fairy and so many more. The My Little Pony series, in particular, is very popular amongst the fairy population."

"I've heard of My Little Pony," Joyce said with her finger in the air. "I used to buy my granddaughters the ponies. I got the pink one for Whitney, the yellow one for Haley and the blue one for Kelly."

Emily smiled. "Those three are my favourites."

"Do fairies have politicians?" Joyce asked out of the blue.

Emily froze.

"Are you okay? Did I offend you? I'm sorry, I know some people get sensitive when it comes to politics."

"No human I know has ever been interested in it. Then again, you're the first human I've interacted with properly before."

"So it's complicated."

Emily shook her head in a nod. "Extremely complicated. One empress, four other monarchs."

"So five in total?" Joyce asked.

"That's right. Don't even ask why it's got something to do with history. I hate history: can never remember it."

"You're not the only one with memory problems."