A Merric's Tale

by Margs Murray

  I let out a sigh and moved on to the next issue: locating my uncle and a phone.

  I opened the final door.

  One step out and I was shocked.

  Carved into the white marble of the ceiling and walls were animals: a white lion in mid-leap, a llama eating grass, a lemur hanging off an elephant trunk, and every animal imaginable. Mesmerized, I wandered down the corridor, gawked at the animals, fish, and insects, and struggled not to trip over my own feet. Engraved into the wall were the words, “Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.”

  Dominion. No kidding. Pretty sure whoever owned this place had dominion over most of the planet. I couldn’t imagine how much this cost. Millions wasn’t an exaggeration. And here I was walking around in my bare feet and a Barton High sweatshirt.

  A little way down the corridor, a woman knelt in a pile of dust. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead. Chalky dust covered her hair and face. A steady chink chink echoed through the otherwise empty hall.

  “What are you making?” My voice echoed and filled the marble expanse.

  Her eyes held steady on her work as she hammered her chisel. “You can’t tell? Great, after eight hours of work, and you can’t tell it’s a wallaby.” Once she said this, I saw it, but to be fair, I wasn’t all that familiar with wallabies.

  Eight hours. She had to have seen Uncle Bollard walk down the hall. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I am looking for a man. He’s older, with white hair, and he’s thin. Like super thin, like he-could-be-used- as-a-kite thin.” I wanted to add rude and awful but didn’t.

  “I get it: thin,” the woman said and focused on her chisel as if she was a breath away from one bad chip. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell. Look, I’m on a strict timeline. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  Oh, I did, like finding my uncle and getting an explanation on how I had ended up in this place. “Where are we?”

  She let out a heavy sigh. “L’Autre Bête. That should have been covered before you even got here. Now move along. The royal heiress rises in three hours, heaven help us all.” She ran her dust-coated hands over her hair, adding another layer of dust. She didn’t care. The woman was so intense, she still hadn’t bothered to look away from the wall.

  Royal heiress. The statement rang familiar, except here in this hallway, I doubted this heiress was a poor, sick, old woman and had every likelihood of being an actual royal. “Is there a real princess here?” I came in closer, my bare feet stepping in the powdered marble. I whispered to her, “It’s Princess Charlotte, isn’t it? Is she as adorable as she is on TV? Is Megan here too? Because she is seriously the best.”

  “I don’t know her name, and why else are we here but to appease the royals? God, you’re new here. Trust me, you don’t have the time, not with a Merric down the hall. One wrong step, and that’s it. End game. You’re gone.”

  Merric? I guessed they were the people Uncle Bollard worked for or a different hotel guest, a rich hoity-toity piece of work. Either way, the sooner I found my uncle, the better because he had a lot to explain and quick. “Well, I haven’t been assigned a job yet.”

  “Everyone has a job here.” Click, click, clunk.

  “I have no clue. My uncle explained nothing to me.”

  She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “You need to change or at least put on shoes. First impressions are very important to the Merrics.”

  “Okay.” This was a huge problem since I didn’t know where my bag was and even if I did, I hadn’t packed clothing. Worse yet, my flip-flops were missing. “Anything else?”

  “You should already know this. Always be busy and never get on their bad side. It’s better to avoid conversations altogether; just ‘yes, your Majesty, no, your Highness’. Bow when you greet them. It doesn’t matter what you are doing, drop it and bow or curtsy. Finally, and most important"—her voice lowered—“the rumors are true. No matter what you see on the cubox, never look a Merric directly in the eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you seriously going to tell me you don’t know? Are you daft?”

  “No, but I have no clue what you are talking about.” None of this rang a bell, and I was ready to wring my great-uncle’s neck after yesterday and that thing- that thing, the heat, the not being able to talk. And then there was the sudden change in me, like someone had flicked a light switch, and I flipped from planning to tell Bollard no to me wanting to come here.

  Leave it to the same jerk who’d somehow forced me (and I recognized how crazy that sounded in my head) to come here to leave me here by myself.

  The woman grabbed a small chisel from her bag. “Rudolf should have gone over this with you before bringing you here.”

  “Rudolf didn’t bring me here. It was—”

  “Trust me, it doesn’t matter what the man said his name was, it’s Rudolf. Nobody gets to L’Autre Bête without meeting Rudolf; nobody. Nothing happens without Rudolf’s permission.”

  With as much as I knew about my uncle, he could have gone by the name Rudolf. “And where is Rudolf?”

  “He’s in the lobby making arrangements with that idiot Enzo. He shouldn’t be too much longer. Rudolf can help you with whatever you need. Now, he’s a nice enough guy, but remember who he works for. You see him before the princess wakes up and you’ll be fine; he’ll get you a change of clothes. I can take you to him; I’ll be done in an hour.” She chiseled a small piece and looked down at my feet and added, “Where are your shoes?”

  “I couldn’t find them.” I sat down next to her. “Did you do all these animals?”

  She put down her chisel and grabbed a grinder out of her bag. “Bollard has been adding animals to this hallway since 1937, and I don’t have the money to look this good at 120.”

  “So, you do know my uncle? Have you seen him? I woke up, and he wasn’t around, and my stuff—”

  The woman jumped to her feet, her grinder clacking to the floor, and she looked at me for one shocked second before she curtsied. “I apologize, I had no idea, I… I…”

  “Apologize for what? I’m confused.”

  “We were told—” She cut herself off and knelt on the floor. She picked up a small black box—it was about the size you’d find an engagement ring in—and turned it over. She stared at it for a minute before saying, “No special alert. I don’t understand.” That made two of us. We were just sitting there all normal, and she’d gone into panic mode. The woman pressed a button on the box, and everything happened like a movie on fast-forward.

  Doors opened and closed. Footsteps clicked and scuffled. Before I registered what was going on the hallway was full of people, fifty or more, all of them bowing. Had I missed something? I gave a nervous half bow and said the only thing I could think of. “I’m Waverly and I’m new here and I need to speak to Bollard.”

  A man to my right stood up and straightened his brown tie and smoothed down his blue-striped suit. He had a small nose and shapely beard. He cleared his throat and said, “I am Rudolf. We most earnestly apologize. Your doctor informed us that your wake time wouldn’t be for another three hours. How may I help you?”

  Three hours? The exact time the marble cutter had mentioned. The reaction of the people around me, the bowing, the running to greet me, gave me a strange, uneasy feeling of familiarity. Dizzy, I backed away to the wall and rested against a buffalo in disbelief. “I need to talk to my uncle.”

  “I’m afraid he had urgent business,” Rudolf said. “He sends his greatest apologies and warmest regards. I am the keeper of L’Autre Bête, and I will escort you to—”

  “Oh, excuse me, coming through.” A man in a bright emerald green suit came weaving through the people, carrying an armload of wrapped gifts. He somehow managed to bow. “Oh, Your Highness, I am so sorry.” His chest heaved as he labored t
o force out words. “I thought we had more time. You must be so excited. We have so many great things planned. I am so, so, so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Your Highness. My body chilled all the way to the bone. “Your Highness?”

  “I was about to escort Waverly back to her room,” Rudolf said.

  “Here.” The man in green nudged a woman with his elbow. As soon as she stood up, he pushed the packages into her arms. “There are more in the lobby. Move, move!” He shooed his hand at everyone. “I’m Enzo Miller, but everyone calls me Enzo, otherwise known as your planner, and we will be the greatest of friends; all Merrics are close to their planners. I have big plans for you, big, big plans.” Then he held out his arm for me to take.

  As we passed by the marble cutter, I saw her face. It was as white as the marble around us, and she held the wall for support. Terrified. She was terrified. I smiled at her and waved, hoping she would feel better but honestly, she looked faint.

  Chapter 6

  Doc

  Rudolf led the way through the marble zoo. Occasionally, he’d look back to Enzo and shake his head.

  “Don’t mind Rudolf,” whispered Enzo. “His job isn’t as fun as mine. I get to plan the parties and performances and all he does is vet people.” All business, Rudolf continued ignoring Enzo, who added, “He’s a glorified butler.”

  Rudolf spun on his heels. If looks could kill, Enzo would have toppled over dead. Enzo shrugged it off and mouthed the word ‘touchy’.

  Even though I had just met them, I could hardly imagine these two working well together. Rudolf was in shape, with thick arms capable of snapping a man in half. Hard, robust, he looked as entertaining as a standardized test. On the other hand, Enzo was lanky, and his black hair swirled into a rock-a-billy curl on the top of his head. He looked and acted like a caricature, fun but not a person you would take seriously.

  Men and women, balancing piles of gifts in their arms, passed us in the hallway.

  “When will my uncle be back?”

  “Your uncle has a summit in Hong Kong. He encourages you to get comfortable and enjoy the palace!” Rudolf called back.

  “What!” I stopped and closed my eyes in frustration. Great. Just perfect. “He claimed he wanted me to come here so I could get to know him.”

  “I’m sure you will. Your doctor is meeting us in your room. He will explain everything,” Enzo said.

  “I don’t need a doctor.” I didn’t, and then I remembered the meal at the diner and Bollard mentioning experts to help find a cure for my grandmother. I wasn’t happy, but this might be one thing my uncle did right. “What kind of specialist is the doctor?”

  “Doctor Tivoli is the premier doctor, the most coveted in the nation. A real superstar. Nothing but the best for the Merrics.”

  Merrics? There was that name again.

  “Oh yes. What a legacy! There is a whole fleet of professionals handling you. Chefs, massage therapist, a florist, a trainer—but only if you want one. Oh, your stylists.” His voice rose an octave. “You’ll love your stylists. Twins! So talented. My, you are in remarkable shape; not muscular, but curvy in a fun way. Freddie’s people must have had fun getting your measurements. You’re like a muse.”

  As he said this, I pulled my sweatshirt down nervously. I didn’t particularly care for my figure all that much. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t exactly love it either. I didn’t fit into the categories that people had in high school. I was too soft to be skinny, too small to be heavy, too short to be tall, not short enough to be short, not muscular enough to be athletic. I was in-between in an awkward way, and no one had ever compared me to a muse.

  Enzo stepped ahead of me and then turned to look me up and down. “All your clothes are Frederickson. Freddie, that is.” He stopped and fanned himself. “Wait ‘til you meet him. A total catch and a gentleman. Too bad for me but great for you. Anyway, the clothes—”

  “Yeah, about that. I didn’t even bring anything to wear, and I lost my phone somewhere. I need to call my parents.”

  Enzo’s eyes got real big real fast. “I’ll get right on it.”

  Rudolf waited for us in the hallway. He stood next to an old man in a white lab coat and brown bow tie. He had the look of a seasoned doctor. The man examined a bear carving with an admiring and strange sadness.

  “It is an honor to serve you, and may I reassure you, we will do everything in our power to keep you happy and safe during this time,” Rudolf said, and he bowed a goodbye.

  Enzo backed down the hallway. “I will see if I can locate your phone.”

  And as fast as they had swarmed, the crowd dissipated, and I was alone with the doctor.

  “It is nice to meet you. My name is Doctor Daniel Tivoli, but my patients call me Doc.” He offered me his hand to shake.

  “Waverly Wilson.”

  He opened my door. “Come, Waverly, there is much to discuss.”

  The doctor pointed at two high-back chairs by the unlit fireplace. Masses of colorfully wrapped gifts cluttered the table and overflowed onto the floor, and I navigated to a chair, careful not to kick or step on the boxes. The name tags all said Waverly. Like I wanted gifts at a time like this.

  The doctor joined me after a moment and pulled a black ring box out of his pocket, identical to the one the marble woman had held, and he placed it on the table between us.

  I knew Grandma’s symptoms better than anyone else, and I wanted to meet with an expert, but I wasn’t ready for this. Considering the shock of waking up in this mansion and the fact my uncle had abandoned me, this was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t want to do this, but perhaps I’d find the cure and be home for supper and never, ever accept a dinner invitation from Bollard again. I didn’t know when an opportunity like this would come again, so I put on my game face and got down to business. “What kind of specialist are you?”

  He thought for a moment and chuckled before answering. “Sorry, not the question I was expecting. I’m a Merric specialist.”

  “Merric; who or what are the Merrics? I’ve heard that name a lot this morning.”

  Doc picked up the ring box between us and flipped it a few times in his hands. “What did your uncle tell you concerning all this?”

  “Nothing about this place. Only that he was inviting me to get to know him and that I would have the opportunity to talk to a specialist, I assume you.” I pointed towards him and he nodded. I continued, “I thought I’d have more time to prepare.” I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands and then added, “Okay. I just need a moment to collect my thoughts. I know my grandmother’s symptoms, and I have done a great deal of research.”

  “I trust you do. I will get to your grandmother in a moment. My foremost concern is you.”

  “Me? I’m fine.” And I was, as far as I could tell.

  Doc smiled. “Yes, of course, you are. Yes, you are fine, but I believe your uncle has left out a few key details about this trip.”

  I looked around. I didn’t have a clue. I nervously pushed my snarled curls behind my ears. “You have a point. I don’t even know where we are.”

  “Boston.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I could handle Boston much better than say, Romania. I could even be home by tomorrow, possibly this afternoon. “Do you have a phone I can use? Is that box thing a new type of cell phone or something?”

  “I’m afraid you can’t call your parents from my cubox. Would you like to see what it does?” The doctor held the black box in his hand and circled my head with it. A small flame ignited from the smooth surface. “Blow out the flame, please.”

  “It’s a lighter?” I blew it out.

  A 3-D image of my head, light brown curly hair, splay of tan freckles, dark gray eyes, perfect down to the pink pimple on my chin, popped from the box like some strange second head.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before. Are we at a tech company or something?” My explanation made sense since all the wealthiest people I could think of owned larg
e technology companies.

  The doctor ignored my question and touched the image with his thumb and index fingers together. He separated them, and my second face shifted and became a magnified copy of the rather nasty zit. “I don’t like how that looks. The temperature of your skin around the blemish is half a degree warmer than the rest of your chin.”

  Embarrassed, my hand covered my jaw. “It’s nothing. Just being a teenager.”

  “If you get your BFV shot, it will clear that up.”

  “What?” I asked in shock. I’d never heard of getting a shot to get rid of a zit. “That’s overkill.”

  “Normally, I would agree, but your medical records indicate you haven’t had the BFV. Now, the BFV would take care of the blemish, along with contractible diseases, bacterium, viruses… well, you know the ailments that plague mankind.”

  “Magic cure-all?”

  He nodded. “For most, yes. Never again would you have a cold.”

  I crossed my arms and gave a huff. “That is impossible. No shot can do all of that, and you can’t inoculate against the common cold. We had a whole unit on diseases in biology.”

  With a sad smile, he shook his head. “I’m afraid you are a long way from high school biology. You’ll find many things in this world you deem impossible are, in fact, very possible and real.”

  My projected head blinked at me. He had a point. I doubted I’d be dissecting a worm here.

  “Would you like the shot?”

  “Any side effects?” I asked. Such a complex vaccine must have some gnarly side effects. “I mean, if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. And I’m not sure my parents would be happy about me getting a shot without discussing it with them first, thank you,” I said.

  “None, not even a fever. As far as your parents go, true, I haven’t met them, but this shot is a miracle. I’ve given it to all my children and grandchildren.”

  “A miracle? If I get this, could I get one for my family and best friend?” I asked.