CHAPTER 2
AUNT EDNA
Influence can sometimes be a strange and powerful thing. Some people have been known to influence cats, dogs, rats, snakes and even children; with such a simple device as a flute!
But influence is more generally applied to people through the use of language. Ordinary words and phrases which, when used in certain powerful combinations have an effect known as the power of suggestion. Such a great power is not, as you might think, limited to the high and mighty people of this world. Good Gracious no, take my Aunt Edna, for instance. She makes greater use of the power of suggestion than anyone else I know!
My Aunt Edna Dogood is a lady who on appearance alone, could well be dismissed as being ‘ordinary’. So ordinary she could walk through a crowded room and out the other side and not be noticed by anyone there! Not that this would worry her, I hasten to add. But I do believe the extreme ordinariness of her persona, rather than hindering her in any way, actually added more weight to her influence. Why do I say that? Because being so ordinary, meant that she was never perceived by anybody anywhere, at any time, as any kind of a threat to their wealth, position or status, etc. Consequently, almost instinctively, people let their guard down when she was around. She could talk to them without any artificial barriers in the way and although she may have been listened to sometimes as something of an amusing diversion, more often than not, what she said to them would sink in. When you can do that, you have influence!
Edna Dogood, although not strictly related to me, was more like 'family' to me than any real relative I had. I have always known her as ‘Aunt Edna’ and always with great affection. One day she invited me over for afternoon tea and biccies. Busy as I was with a husband and three children to tend to, I quickly reprogrammed my day to fit in with her requirements. I felt I had to humour her if not honour her, the old dear.
When I arrived she took me straight into her lounge room and sat me down on a settee near the window. It was all so lovely sitting there, bathed in a warm, but not uncomfortable, glow of early morning spring sunshine. Because I was in the light and the rest of the room was in the shadow, I couldn't see a lot. But I did notice that the walls were still decorated with the old-fashioned, intricately-patterned, wallpaper she loved. There were still lots of heavily framed pictures of rural scenes and photographs of a by-gone age, scattered everywhere. The far corners of the room were particularly dark.
Anyway, there we were, me in my best twin-set and her in a black dress that had seen better years, nattering away, mostly local gossip and the troubles of bringing up children, when we heard a noise like the front door opening and closing.
'Oh! I don't think I locked the door and put the chain on after you came in, did I?' Aunt Edna inquired of me.
Before I could think, let alone reply, a pale-faced young man not much more than a boy really and hardly old enough to leave his mother, walked in on us. I was startled to see he was waving what I could only call one of
those nasty looking, folding knives! He was dressed of course, in today’s all-too-common attire of torn and faded jeans, footy shirt and back-to-front baseball cap.
'Gimmee your money. Gimmee your money. Now!' he demanded of us.
My immediate concern was for Aunt Edna, poor dear. I half expected her to faint or cry or something like that. But then I remembered where I was, who she was and I wouldn't have been surprised if she had attempted to correct his grammar! But instinctively, I put out my hands to comfort and protect her. Giving me a ‘sorry’ look, she swept my hands aside as she struggled to her feet before demanding of the intruder 'Who are you, young man? What are you doing in my house?'
She said all this, looking him straight in the eye, bravely of course, but not aggressively so. More like a grandmother talking to one of the junior members of her own tribe. Now this was the Aunt Edna I knew, in action! While I'm somewhat ashamed to say, I cowered on the settee, speechless, terrified and unable to move a muscle. Scared to death about what might happen next!
'Never mind who I am, granny, it's you’s money I'm after. You'd better get it quick! Or else!' he demanded, waving the big knife menacingly close to her sweet angelic face.
'Or else? Or else what, my dear boy?’ she asked of him in a surprisingly calm tone.
'Or else, I'll stick you’s wiv this...' he lowered the wicked looking knife until the point was close to her middle, right there - in yer guts!’ he threatened.
'Call that a knife?' I almost expected her to say!
'Come on. Come on. The money, you old bag, get the money. Now! Or you know what!' he demanded of Aunt Edna, with a most evil look on his face and to my great relief and shame, whilst completely ignoring me!
'Now then,' Aunt Edna interjected, 'if I hear you right, dear boy’; she raised a thin arthritic hand to one ear as if better to catch the sound of his voice, which was plenty loud enough for me. ‘...you have forced your way in here and you are now demanding money with menaces,' she said, pointing at his knife with the other hand. 'Have I got that right?' she enquired, standing her ground so close I could hardly believe the risk she was taking.
'Yeah yeah, that's about right!' he replied boldly. Then in a puzzled tone, 'What is this? You're supposed to give me all your money, so you don't get hurt, right! Don't you understand that, you silly old woman?'
I still couldn't move, couldn't speak, but dear Aunt Edna – there was simply no stopping her!
'Just a minute, young man. I'm sure you're quite a nice boy, deep down inside. But does your mother know what you're up to, hmm?' she asked. Then, unbelievably, she took a step forward, forcing him to retreat, just a bit. She reached out. I wanted to shut my eyes but couldn't and touching his arm, turned him slightly so he
faced the far corner of the room, where it was so dark I couldn't imagine what she could possibly want, or expect, him to see.
'Now, would you mind looking up there?' she said, pointing towards the ceiling.
Surprisingly, amazingly, he did as he was told! The puzzled look on his face showing he had no more idea than I did as to what she was expecting him to see. 'What? What are you rabbiting on about? You silly old bag!'
‘Oh,' she laughed - actually laughed! ‘Silly old bag, am I? I don't think so. Least I wouldn't be silly enough to break into a house like this one. One with a security camera installed, especially one with 24 hours-a-day surveillance.'
'Eh? What camera? Where?' he demanded looking wildly around.
'Why, up there where I just showed you. In the far corner. Look, near the ceiling. See the little red light? It's one of those connected to that there, internet web thing. It's on all the while, 24/7, isn’t that what they call it?’
'What? You, you mean we're on the internet now, this minute?'
‘Why, yes. Of course, dear boy. But I expect you know all about them sort of things.'
'Yeah, ‘course I do,' he replied, taking his cap off to smooth his hair. Then shaking his head, he said 'You've got to be havin' me on, lady. It's only young chicks that go in for that kind of thing, being recorded 24/7 an’ that.’
'Ah! I knew you were a clever lad as soon as I saw you. You're quite right, of course you are. But it's nothing to do with me. Of course not. No, it’s my granddaughter, she's studying to be a computer programmer and she put all that video stuff in. She's even got one in her bedroom, would you believe! I can’t think why she wants one there! She'll be so excited too when I tell her how you actually confessed to breaking and entering and demanding money with menaces, all recorded on her camera up there! With the pictures going out here and there and all over the world, as far as I know! Unless you want to tell her personally, of course. She'll be home soon. But you'll have to put the knife away first, my boy. She won't have any of that or she’ll call the Police as soon as look at you!'
'It's gone, see?' he said, closing the knife and slipping it in his pocket.
'Oh, you are a good boy,' A
unty Edna assured him.
'But,' he said, smiling nervously up towards the dark corner. 'It was all just a joke, you know. I wasn't really going to rob you – right?'
'A joke? Really?'
‘Sure, just a harmless bit of fun. You understand, ‘course you do; ok?'
'Oh, I'm so pleased to hear that. Really I am. You are obviously such a nice young man and I knew you must have been joking,' said Aunt Edna, addressing the dark corner and at the same time dropping me a sly nod and a wink. I could only return a brief, fleeting, forced grin.
'Perhaps,' he said, speaking to us while at the same time trying to face the dark corner, 'I could get you ladies a cup of tea or something, before I go?'
'Sorry,' Aunt Edna replied rather sadly. 'I'm completely out of tea and biscuits. I was just telling my friend here how ‘tight’ things were. Very tight, in fact. I’ve spent my entire pension already this week.'
'Same here,' he replied. ‘Things is tight wiv me too!’
'Oh, things can't be that bad, not for a clever lad like you? I can't believe that!'
'Bad?' he said, pulling out his wallet. 'Here - I've only got twen'y...'
'Oh how kind of you! That will do nicely,' Aunt Edna said, snatching the twenty dollar bill excitedly. 'Ohhh, we can buy some tea and biccies now, dear,' she said to me.
'But...I, I…' he struggled, unable to find the words.
'Isn't he a darling, everybody,' Aunt Edna said to the dark corner. 'I just knew he had a heart of gold, the dear boy! Don’t you think he’s great?'
The ‘dear boy’ looked absolutely stunned! Then Aunt Edna tapped him gently on his arm and said 'I'm so sorry you've got to go, young man. But, I promise we'll say a prayer for you tonight and do give my regards to your good mother for having such a lovely child. Now, just give everybody a wave and say: Bye, Bye, dear; come on.'
'Bye, bye,' said the boy, waving his hand weakly and he walked out as if in a trance!
As soon as I heard the door slam, I jumped up and ran to lock it and put on the chain. Then I returned to the lounge and Aunt Edna. 'You were blooming marvellous!' I said, giving her a hug. 'So brave. So forceful. It could have turned out so differently, so disastrous, if it had not been for your courage and your gadget camera thingo up there.'
'Oh,' she said, looking more than a little embarrassed. 'I am rather ashamed to admit, my dear, that I told a few fibs just now, under stress of course. You see, there really is no camera up there, no camera at all.'
'But...'
'They’re just odd bits of old Christmas decorations that I couldn't reach high enough to pull down last year.'
'But the light? Even I can see the light.'
'Ah, I'm afraid there's not even a light my dear, well not really. What can you see? What you think is a light, is actually a reflection, on an old silver Christmas ball, of the power-on light on the telly.' As she said that, she moved back and forth in front of the telly and I noticed the 'red light' up in the corner disappeared! 'Odd, isn't it?’ she said. ‘It had me puzzled for a while when I first noticed it, I can tell you.'
'You mean you made it all up on the run, this business about the camera, the surveillance, the internet and the granddaughter?'
'Oh, no, dear. Not all of it. I have a very nice granddaughter.'
'Next you'll be telling me you know the boy's family!'
‘Well, yes, I think I do! He's the spitting image of his father, Billy Lightfoot. He was a cheeky young rascal too at that age. The boy must be young Brian Lightfoot. Yes, I'm sure he is now I think about it.’
As I shook my head in wonder, she said: ‘Now come on, we can walk down to the footy club at the end of the road for a drink. I think we need one, don't you?'
'On young Brian, you mean?'
'Oh, no, dear. I'll give him his money back, through his dad. He'll be at the club about now. A fine upstanding man, his father; well, at least these days he is. He'll soon sort the boy out!' She grabbed her handbag and we were off.
As we hurried off down the street, I suddenly stopped her and asked 'Did you remember to lock the front door, Aunt Edna? You did, didn’t you?'
'Oh, no!' she said, somewhat alarmed. 'You know, I’m not sure! You don't really think I could be so unlucky as to be broken into twice on the same day do you, my dear?'
'I dread the thought!’ I said. 'I wouldn’t wish that on anyone!'