The Yellow Dress

By Denise Diehl

Lake Tekapo is known for its turquoise-blue waters, mountainous backdrop, and dark sky reserve—where one can view the stars in all their glory and ponder the mysteries of the universe. Truly a fantastic tourist attraction. It also has another little-known feature—inexplicable disappearances. One that Lucy Erb would soon discover. Had she been chosen, carefully groomed as the selected one, or a by chance individual fatefully picked to encounter the cloud?

***

That morning, the wind roughed up the lake’s water. Waves rolled in, and the stand of pines swayed. It was not as gusty as the previous day, but it was just annoying. Though temperatures rose hot, as expected in summer, the wind stole the heat away, much to the dismay of the swimmers who huddled in their towels on the gravelly shore of the lake as they muttered and moaned their delay in brave the cold.

Lucy stood with her look-alike brothers, Thomas, Jacob, and Evan.

‘Go on then, you suggested it, oh brave one,’ Thomas said. He was the eldest at sixteen and yet the timidest.

‘Yeah, you first,’ joined in Jacob, a year younger. The same narrow face but a more extensive body. All fake bravado and bluff.

Evan, two years younger than Jacob, chuckled at their little sister. She indeed undertook life with gusto, a go-getter. At eleven, she showed grit. He admired her. She got them all involved whenever there arose something to get interested in—last year’s mud fight when they stayed at their uncle’s farm, December’s pine cone war when they visited Tekapo’s forest and the previous week’s sponge-making contest at Nana’s, which ended in a lot of cream and jam on the floor and walls—and a solid telling off by the Olds.

Lucy pulled back her yellow hair and tied it into a ragtag ponytail. She straightened out her flowery bathing suit with a little attached skirt, which hung loosely on her skinny frame—a hand-me-down but in good condition, her mother assured her. She fiddled with her paua shell necklace, a cheapy bought from the Timaru markets last weekend and grinned. Her pixie face held mischievousness. ‘All right, you chickens, watch your valiant leader.’

She glanced to the right of the boat ramp she stood on and noted the small swirl of cloudy water that rolled milky waves onto the shore. The patch of water stood out from the turquoise blue of the lake. Odd, why did it appear such a weird colour? She knew the lakes in this region were glacier-fed, and moraine carved out of the mountain slopes by aeons of ice movement covered the lake floor, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the water looked this colour. However, in only one place, and right at the shore? Must be a current there, she mused.

She stepped off into the cloudy water and disappeared under its surface.

What transpired seconds under the water to her brothers passed as years for Lucy.

***

She fell and kept on dropping. The surrealness of the warm water, which ceased to be so within minutes of entering into the milkiness of the pool, astonished her, and then she felt the rush of wind. She glanced at her feet and watched as if disconnected from her body as they touched down in a yellow field of golden heads—rapeseed plants in full bloom. She recognised them as the same as those seen on her uncle’s farm outside Timaru. She secretly had wanted one day to run headlong into such a field and be immersed in yellow, her favourite colour.

She carefully arose and scanned around herself. Where was she? I dived into Lake Tekapo. She stared up at where she had come. The sky above stretched a dull grey sheet of thick clouds, yet she felt the sun’s heat like on a blue-sky day. It makes no sense, she thought. The breeze picked up, and all the flowers around her swayed as a ripple of sunshine. It proved hard not to laugh and yell “yahoo” and run and leap into their depths. However, she restrained herself out of respect for the farmer’s crop. She focused on where she stood and saw no cars, roads, or people, farmers or others.

A wave of aloneness washed over her, and she tingled with fear. Where am I? Is this a dream?

Lucy rarely accepted the status quo. Always resourceful, she focused on the distant tree line and marched toward them. Perhaps a house lay on the other side, and she could ask to use their phone to call Thomas and get him to come and fetch her from … wherever she waited. Help and rescue flashed to mind.

The air buzzed with insects, and she spotted a rabbit. A nice everyday distraction, long enough to arrive at an old farmhouse. She knocked loudly on the door and hopped from one foot to another as she waited. She hoped the lady would be kind and even offer her some sweet cake or biscuit. She’d like a nice lemonade drink, too, please. She felt hungry and thirsty after all that hot walking.

‘Oh, hello, young child, what can I do for you, and where did you sprout from, my dear?’ The grey-haired muffin of a woman, the soft and spongy kind, not the shrivelled and burnt, mean kind, said as she smiled at her and gently led her into the house. Before Lucy got her behind on a kitchen stool, a jam scone covered in cream and a glass of lemonade appeared at her elbow.

‘Please enjoy, dear. You must be hot and thirsty and a little hungry. It is a long walk across the fields of perpetual sun, as we call this place.’

Surprised, Lucy gawked at the woman, ‘Great name for your farm.’ Rather clever, she nodded. She greedily ate the scone in two woofs and drank the lemonade. ‘Thanks awfully, a real treat. Can you help me? I’m lost. Am I somewhere near Lake Tekapo, Mrs—?’

‘Never heard of the place deary, and it’s Mrs Muffin.’ 

Lucy wanted to laugh but quickly covered her mouth as if she had to cough. ‘Excuse me, something stuck in my throat,’ she mumbled. She watched Mrs Muffin fuss around in the kitchen and wondered about her strange situation. Lucy had started to feel a little spaced out. She played with the idea that she could think things into existence here. Don’t be so silly. She knew she had a crazy imagination. She scolded herself. I bet this lady has a cat called Mr Winky—She decided to test her theory.

Minutes later, Lucy peered down at something that rubbed against her leg.

‘Oh, don’t mind Mr Winky, he loves people, unless you’re allergic, of course,’ Mrs Muffin asked.

Lucy stared at the lady. ‘Can I use your phone, please? I wish to call my brother, who can fetch me.’

Mrs Muffin sighed and shook her head. ‘Sorry, deary, but I don’t have a phone.

Her reply is inconsistent. Lucy smelt a rat. ‘Well, I’ll be off now. Point me in the direction of the nearest road, please.’ 

Before she got her answer, a knock at the door interrupted her question.

In breezed Everlyn, a dark-haired girl in her late teens with suntanned arms and legs. She bent over, kissed the old lady on both cheeks and then eyed the newcomer. ‘Hello, and who might you be?’ She said, all bright and cheery.

They introduced themselves, and Mrs Muffin left the two girls on the lemon-coloured sofa to attend to her delicious-smelling casserole. Over her shoulder, she asked Everlyn, ‘Can you get that yellow dress for Lucy, the spare one from the cupboard upstairs? I’m sure the wee girl needs a little more “covering” than her bathing suit, please.’

Everlyn nodded and returned within minutes with the pretty dress. Lucy clapped her hands at the colour and quickly pulled it down over her head, stood up, and twirled around.

‘Yes, that’s better,’ Mrs Muffin said.

Both girls smiled at each other and began to chat.

‘How are you related to the woman of this house?’ Lucy tentatively asked.

‘I’m not. I arrived here one day, and she took me in and has cared for me ever since, which must be nearly ten years now. I’m not sure from where … funny, I don’t bother my mind about this mystery anymore, no point.’

Lucy’s mouth fell open, and a cold shiver crept over her. You’re kidding me, right? ‘I want to go home. Please show me where the nearest road and the town are. My family is camping at Lake Tekapo and will have noticed me gone by now.’

She caught a sudden flicker of recognition on the older girl’s face at the lake’s name. ‘You stayed there too, didn’t you? Lucy’s voice had gotten louder, and she saw Mrs Muffin approach from the corner of her eye. Lucy squeezed Everlyn’s hand firmly, ‘Tell me, what is this place, and how do I leave?’ Lucy stared into a blank face.

Mrs Muffin placed two plates of steaming stew on the dining table and encouraged them to enjoy their dinner before it went cold. Both girls turned their attention to the meal. Before she knew it, Lucy sat satisfied and content after the lovely dinner. Her mind drifted—she couldn’t remember what she had discussed with Everlyn but sensed it had been important. Lucy shrugged her shoulders. Never mind, it will come to me as she fingered her paua necklace.

It suddenly seemed late, and yet, where had the time gone? The sky had gradually darkened into an orange-gold with yellow streaks. Lucy noted that the overcast clouds persisted with no sign of stars.

‘Beautiful, don’t you think?’ sighed Everlyn, indicating what they beheld as they stood on the porch outside after the meal and gazed across the fields of perpetual sun.

‘It must look fantastic under a clear night’s sky with all the stars.’ Lucy said.

Everlyn turned to Lucy in surprise, ‘We never see the stars. The cloud cover is our Sphere’s protection.’

Lucy blinked as she absorbed the information but did not know what to make of it. Somehow, she felt unperturbed. 

Everlyn said, ‘Time for bed. Tomorrow will be a busy day—it’s harvesting time.’ She guided Lucy upstairs to a large room with several bunk beds in rows of three on each side.

‘Gosh, who else sleeps here, and where are they?’ Lucy asked as she emerged from her food daze.

‘Oh, we have quite a few girls in residence here. There’s … and also … huh, funny, I can’t remember their names. Never mind. You’re bound to meet them.’

Lucy stared at the beds, trying to fight the fog of tiredness. It would be good to meet the others. Perhaps then my situation would feel more normal.

Just then, the door flew open, and six girls of different ages, colours, and races bounded into the room. Loud and noisy, they laughed and chattered until they noticed Lucy and stopped.

‘Hey there.’ They smiled at Lucy. One by one, each stepped forward and introduced themselves. Lucy relaxed in their warm welcome. She was amongst friends.

‘Here, give me your necklace, and I’ll put it away in the top drawer of our dresser.’

Everlyn stretched out her hand to take Lucy’s necklace, which she handed over without question.

However, Lucy caught sight of what lay in the drawer. Hundreds of necklaces of all colours, shapes, sizes and materials gleamed at her in the night light overhead. Lucy gasped and pointed.

‘Yes, we all arrived with some treasured necklace and removed it for safekeeping. Even Mrs Muffin’s necklace is here. There, it’s the little diamond and pearl beaded one, see. Lovely, isn’t it?’ Everlyn beamed.

‘Yes, lovely. Well, I’m ready for bed, see you in the morning,’ Lucy said. Soon, she lay conked out. A peaceful, dreamless sleep overtook her.

***

Lucy awoke with a start. The sun streamed in and blinded her eyes. She did not know the time, but Everlyn’s and the other girls’ beds stood empty. 

Her mind cleared, and she realised she had spent the night in the house in the yellow field. She remembered falling through some “window” in Lake Tekapo into another world that seemed off—not quite right. And no one offered to help her get home. They just fobbed off her requests. And of more concern, she kept forgetting her concerns—her mind would drift into a daydream state.

She learnt last night that Mrs Muffin was also a “visitor” to this farm. Before the fog of compliance engulfed her, she rushed over to the drawer, grabbed her necklace, and dropped it quickly into the pocket of the yellow dress she had put on that morning. She sensed she needed her necklace to get home.

Then she picked up Mrs Muffin’s necklace and hurried downstairs.

Mrs Muffin stood at the kitchen sink and gazed dreamily out the window. ‘There you are, sleepy head. We always let the newcomers sleep in on their first week.’ She turned and chuckled at Lucy. Her eyes narrowed and focused on the necklace Lucy held out to her. She gasped, placed her podgy hand on her ample chest, and exclaimed. 

‘Well, I’ll be. Where did you find my precious necklace? I lost that beauty close to fifty years ago. It was my mother’s. Funny, I can’t remember anything else about it.’ Lucy gave it to her and helped put it around her neck. Mrs muffin patted it and wiped the tears from her eyes.

Lucy waited, unsure of what would transpire, but Mrs Muffin carried on as though nothing happened. ‘Well, my dear, breakfast is served, and then you must go and join the others to harvest. Everlyn’s already outside and will show you what work we do. Pay attention, mind—it’s a tricky job, and the world out there depends on the likes of us. There’s a good girl.’

Lucy stepped back at the odd words and then lost her train of thought. She shrugged her shoulders and grabbed a bowl of porridge. Her mind focused on the day’s work. Any reservations had gone.

***

Lucy heartened at the many greetings of “Hey there”. They all beamed at her. She felt pumped for the task at hand. Whatever it proved to be, she believed she could rise to the challenge.

Everlyn took her to a large barn with lots of tools and cutting implements and told Lucy, ‘We harvest glow balls which we uncover randomly amongst the yellow crop—’

‘What, you don’t harvest the rapeseed plants? Lucy’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

Laughter erupted around Lucy.

‘Oh no, the yellow plants provide our warmth and light. They are our perpetual sun—our source of life.’ Everlyn nodded at the thin girl and continued. ‘Each day, the girls hunt amongst the yellow plants for the glow balls … yay big—’ as she demonstrated with her hands out in front of her, and made a rock melon shape— ‘and cut them open to release the Glow. It’s a luminescent energy source that we release into the air to float through our cloud cover—’

‘Why? What is the purpose of this?’ Lucy’s mind hovered on clarity, but she could feel a fade out coming on fast.

‘Above us, the Great Black hovers over our sphere and needs lights—stars—to shine the way for travellers and foreign visitors.’

‘Oh, that makes sense.’ Lucy’s mind had fogged again. She smiled at the warmth of her friends and the kindness they showered upon her as a newcomer in their profound mission to provide lights for their sphere.

***

The days and nights flew by in a blink. Time seemed meaningless in light of the great mission to provide stars for the world. Lucy strived to engage one hundred per cent.

Once the other girls showed Lucy how to find the glow balls at the base of young yellow plants and the delicate procedure required to release the Glow, she got right into the task.

She wore the work clothes provided. Her bathing suit sat in a drawer she never glanced in, but her necklace lay in a pocket of a dress she had borrowed on her first day. The dress hung in a side wardrobe by her bed. It probably needed a wash, but she had put off that job indefinitely.

Mrs Muffin had removed her necklace to keep it safe, and it now lay in the top drawer of the dresser upstairs.

***

One day, Lucy, in a moment of clarity, asked Everlyn about the other girls she had not met.

Everlyn stared blankly at Lucy. ‘I’m not sure to whom you are referring.’

‘Well, there’s more necklaces in the drawer than girls out in the fields.’

‘Oh, they’re out there. Apart from the ones that must have left our farm, many have passed away—they’re buried in the same fields we harvest.’

Silence followed as Lucy struggled with that information.

Everlyn had turned to walk away, but Lucy lingered, frozen. She glanced nervously around her, but her mind refused to stay the course. She knew she had perceived something … a connection … the past lives buried under the fields, and … the Glow being released.

***

Life continued for weeks and months. Before Lucy knew it, they celebrated her first year as a Glow harvester.

Cake and lemonade, claps and whistles resounded in the crowded kitchen. Mrs Muffin fussed and cried, and everyone felt loved.

The years rolled on with little change. There transpired much work to do.

***

A strange new girl appeared at the house’s front door one day. She looked cross and upset and said she was lost. She muttered a bizarre tale of woe and demanded they call her father or else she’d call the police. She yelled, stomped her feet, and carried on a proper treat.

Lucy witnessed the performance as she turned in early from work and sat at the kitchen table while Mrs Muffin stuck a plaster on her hand and tut-tutted over the injury.

They stared at the teenager in a skimpy bikini, and Mrs Muffin tut-tutted again. ‘Get her that nice yellow dress, dear, will you? She’ll catch her death in those under things.’

Lucy rushed upstairs to grab the dress while Mrs Muffin prepared food and drink for the new girl, Samantha. She was a fiery redhead with large, bewildered eyes and a loud, complaining voice.

Lucy arrived downstairs to peace and chuckled as she noted the new girl hoover creamy jam scones and guzzle lemonade. Samantha had stopped her stomp-and-yell routine. Lucy eyed the pretty silver chain around her neck … a sense of something flashed through Lucy’s mind. Samantha thanked Lucy and reached out to take the yellow dress, ‘Oh, my favourite colour,’ she said.

Lucy felt a little guilty that she had never washed the dress after she had worn it last. Funny, she couldn’t remember that day. She shrugged, never mind. It is only a temporary garment until Samantha is in her work clothes. Lucy quickly checked the pockets for dirty tissues she might have left in one of them.

Her hand closed around some object. She pulled it out and stared at the paua shell necklace.

Like an avalanche, the memories hit her. Her mind opened as a sunflower, and all her past life returned. She recalled the boat ramp at Tekapo Lake and her brothers as they cheered her on, her surprise at the warmness of the milky water, her unexpected fall through the air and her arrival in the field of the perpetual sun.

The unimaginable pain of lost family hit Lucy. Tears sprang to her eyes. 

She quickly peeked around to check where Mrs Muffin hovered. The old lady had popped off to the bathroom. Lucy grabbed Samantha’s hand, her nails bit into the girl’s skin as she shook her.

Clarity returned to Samantha’s eyes, peered into Lucy’s with shock, and let out an ‘Ouch,’ and asked, ‘Where am I?’

Lucy didn’t let go, and with her free hand, she slipped her paua shell necklace over her head and said with all the authority and conviction she could muster, ‘Think these words: I want to go home, I want to go now!’

She again pulled on Samantha’s wrist and yelled the words as loudly as possible.

Mrs Muffin had finished in the bathroom and approached. She frowned, perplexed at the kerfuffle between the two girls. Did the newcomer want more scones?

In a flash, Lucy and Samantha disappeared. 

***

Both girls emerged from the milky water by the beach at Lake Tekapo—Samantha, still in her bathing suit and Lucy in some odd work pants and top.

Lucy’s brothers squinted at her weirdly and wondered how she had popped up with another girl and dressed in those old, shabby clothes. However, the tall and shapely Samantha distracted all three boys, and they ceased with their questions and annoying comments.

Samantha ran off to find her father and a towel. She had no idea what had happened and never said a word.

Lucy ran up to her brothers, hugged them, cried and said sternly, ‘It’s too cold to swim today. Let’s go to our campsite and play Cluedo.’

They indulgently looked at her and patted her on her head.

The wind had dropped, and the waves had ceased. A strange calm fell upon the lake, and the milky swirl of water close to shore vanished. 

Well, at least for a while.

***

That night, Lucy crept out of her tent, lay on the grass, gazed at the stars and wondered. 

Denise Diehl spent the last forty-plus years working in Laboratory Science, retiring with her husband to a small rural town in the South Island of New Zealand to write her first novels and short stories—a fun and new adventure to match the latest decade of her life.