A Merric's Tale

by Margs Murray

  “You are the granddaughter of Helena Merric. Of course, people know about you. Why in the world wouldn’t they?”

  “I didn’t even know this place existed and people know about me?”

  Enzo turned his head in confusion. “Oh, come on now. Everyone knows the American Royal Family, even in the extreme north.”

  “Well, I had no idea my uncle was even a royal or that this place existed,” I told him, and I knew for sure, Bollard must have kept the existence of my world from the people in this mutually secret world. I paused, then asked, “What have you heard about me?”

  Enzo’s smile beamed. “I know you are the long-lost princess and granddaughter of the Great Helena Merric. The heir apparent to the Kingdom of America, second only to Queen Bianca.”

  “I am not!” I slapped my hand on the table. “I’m from the small country town of Barton! We have more cows than people.”

  “Nobody cares where you are from honey! Your arrival here is enough to propel you to the top of the list of Merrics.” He pointed to my pancakes. “Hence, the waiting list for your leftovers.”

  Done, I put my head down on the cool wood of the table. “This makes no sense.”

  “They told us you grew up far away from civilization and without a cubox or anything but this. It’s like you don’t even know basic history. You are the granddaughter of the Great Helena Merric, Defender of the North and one of the greatest Libratiers to ever live.”

  I backed away from the table, went to the nightstand, and picked up Grandma’s book. Flipping through the pages, I tried yet again to sew together my life in Barton and current reality. “This can’t be real.”

  “Oh, Helena Merric was most real. Whole courses in colleges are taught about her,” Enzo said, and he came over to join me with the book.

  A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Grandma had attempted to tell the truth for years. It was my fault for not believing her. “I thought I knew her. I didn’t.” I flipped through a few more pages. “Look at her. She helped design a hospital for wounded veterans! She was credited with the design of the visiting center.”

  Enzo took the book from me and thought for a long moment. “You know, I can make anything happen. Anything at all.”

  “Can you make it so I can go home?”

  Enzo’s face fell. “Only the Regent can do that.” When Enzo saw I was close to crying again, he added, “But I can make other things happen. You say you didn’t recognize your grandmother, but what if you experienced the things she did? I could follow her itinerary from her time here, and you would experience some of what she did.”

  “You can do that?” I asked as I remembered events from the book. “With the people she knew and everything?”

  “Not all but many,” he explained. “The balls, the operas, the special events, and charities are easy to repeat, although some adjustments will need to be made.”

  I nodded. It’d been quite a while since Grandma had been here, and many of the people from the book must have passed away. One person topped my list. “Prince Lothaire; is he still alive?”

  “King Lothaire is still alive, but I can’t make any promises. He takes running his country very seriously and doesn’t leave often. Why, he hasn’t been to America in over fifty years. Well, I have a lot to do today,” Enzo said, and he went to the door. “I’ll stop by later with updates.”

  I nodded, kind of sad I would be alone again with all my thoughts. “What am I supposed to do today?”

  “Stylists are coming to help prepare you. The Merrics are always trendsetters. Your stylists will ensure you are making the right decisions.”

  I smoothed down my frizzy hair. “You know I might not be staying long enough to be an ‘anyone’ here.”

  Enzo shrugged his shoulders. “Give me a little time. I think I can make your stay here, however short, a wonderful experience.”

  ~*~

  A few hours later my stylists, two nondescript women, arrived with an arsenal of products. After showering, I slipped on a fluffy white robe and sat before a mirror in the bathroom. The stylists spoke to me as they trimmed, shellacked, and painted, but I remained quiet. Talking would only bring on the tears again. The women escorted me to the closet and helped me choose a turquoise blue summer dress and strappy pair of heels. I refused to take off Grandma’s ring- not after losing my bag. The ring meant too much, and I vowed to myself to never take it off.

  The stylists were proud of their work, but the person in the mirror didn’t look a thing like me. Sure, I looked pretty but more like some airbrushed magazine cover, all curls with no frizz. Any other day, I might have enjoyed looking so nice, but not today. Not without the people I cared about.

  Why bother? I thought, kicking off my shoes. I went back to bed. I skipped lunch too. And wrote another letter, this time with more details about how beautiful the place was and how I basically had a mini-pool in my bathroom and a huge closet full of clothes and stylists, sounding much more upbeat than I felt. The letter I wrote for Sasha was more self-pity than anything else. I admitted how lonely I was. I left it on my nightstand and hid under the blanket. When a woman showed up and offered to take me on a tour of the building, I pretended to be sleeping.

  Doc visited to check on me and see if I had any questions. “When will Bollard would be back?” I asked. Doc said it might be awhile, even as long as a month. That bit of news was enough to make me break down all over again. Doc pulled me into a hug and let me cry for a long time. He said I could ask all my questions later and for right now I needed more time to sort through my emotions.

  Enzo came in during dinner. “You look lovely.”

  “Thanks.” I knew that was a lie, that I had cried off all my makeup and that I had wrinkled my dress from lying in bed.

  “Well, I have great news for you. I did it.”

  “Oh, okay.” I sat on the edge of my bed, an uneaten dinner roll in my hand. “Did what?”

  “The Lark has agreed to perform tomorrow night. She’s performing Astor’s Port.”

  I stared up at him blankly.

  “It was your grandmother’s first opera.”

  “Really?” I still felt crummy. I uttered, “When?”

  “She’s on tour and is in Boston and is available tomorrow night.”

  “What? Tomorrow? Enzo, I’m not ready to go out.”

  “It will be spectacular. Besides, we’ll be staying in.” And he went on and on about the program and who would be there and all about flowers while I debated pulling the covers over my head again.

  Chapter 9

  Bird’s Eye View

  My deep gray eyes popped like a steel girder against a white cloud, dark and hypnotizing. I turned my face from left to right, staring at my reflection- the pink of my lips and my hair softly pinned back, a few loose curls framing my face.

  Dressed in a creamy white chiffon empire-waist number with a high scoop neck, I pivoted to the side and then back again. I’d never looked so beautiful, not at the prom or ever. I wished I had; there would have been double takes, triples. Mouths would have bobbed open, and I could have had dancing partners out the door, but here, it felt purposeless.

  Enzo stood at the door. He wore a black tuxedo with a white scarf draped around his neck. “You are radiant, Princess. The picture of perfection.”

  “Thank you; you look debonair.”

  “This old thing,” Enzo said, and he took my arm and off we went.

  I hadn’t left the room over the past few days, and the corridor felt too crowded and yet, too open for me to be comfortable. I wasn’t up to any of this but another night of crying in my room seemed worse. If I was stuck here for a month, I might as well get out and see the house a little. At least, we didn‘t have to leave L‘Autre Bête.

  To make small talk, I asked Enzo if he knew anything interesting.

  “Oh, I have interesting. I can tell you all sorts of interesting,” he said as we made our way down the sculpted animal hallway.

  “Well, first ther
e is the business with Ms. Cost. She’s about done with the Baroness Victoria Linz. Now, Victoria isn’t current with her dues at the country clubs, and this is a huge deal. So, rumor has it, we’re at 500-1 right now. 499. Can you imagine? Victoria supposedly has her eyes on Coxely to solve her financial woes, but he is fixed with Stella Adams, and the Adams are such a respectable family.” Enzo’s face lit up, and he continued, “Now, Deidra Drake, one of Bianca’s most inner companions, is on the prowl again, as if she was ever off.” And then he mentioned a man’s name I missed and the scandal with him and his many love conquests. Currently, the man was dating twins, but last night he was spotted out with a Swedish beauty. Then more gossip about this or that. I wanted to mention that gossip only worked well when you knew the person being talked about. Still, I wouldn’t care all that much. I had enough on my plate to think about.

  “I’m taking you to the back doorway so everyone’s suspense will be heightened, and we can keep the delicious mystery longer.” Enzo opened a door located under a cougar in mid-pounce. After several long boring back hallways, we finally to an imposing wooden door. He opened it and pushed a heavy blood-red curtain aside. “After you.”

  The private balcony jutted towards the stage and opened onto a magnificent view. A mural in black and gold covered the ceiling, and the angels stared down to me, and below. I followed their golden gaze to the throngs of richly dressed men and women that filled every seat in the ornate red and gold theater. “Wow!”

  Doc, all decked out in a tuxedo and top hat, stepped in behind us and took the chair to my right. “Good evening, Waverly. You look lovely.”

  “Thank you, Doc. Nice hat,” I said.

  Doc lifted the brim of his top hat and smiled. “Thank you, I thought you’d enjoy it. I’ll take it off before the show starts.”

  Enzo pointed down at the theatre. “I could have filled this room six times over, there is so much interest. See all these people. From the mezzanine to the orchestra pit to the box seats? They’re pretending to be interested in opera, but they are all here to glimpse the new princess, Waverly Merric. I’m very selective, so don’t you worry. Only the best. Your name has been buzzing all over the country for the last week.”

  As he said this, I fought the urge to run. Five hundred people, easy, shuffled into the lower level of the theater. All of them showed up to see me. Me? Did this officially make me an alien? A real-live specimen from a different planet. An alien who took a wrong turn near Neptune and landed on this version of earth, confused and gasping for the familiar and fresh air.

  Gazing over the balcony, I wondered how Grandma felt the first time she did this. Did she have the same butterflies swirling in her stomach? Did she look out over the crowd, overwhelmed by the whole other world thing too, or had Bollard at least done her the courtesy of explaining where they were traveling?

  As I glanced down at the crowd, I caught the furtive looks. Women with programs to their faces, eyes gazing up, not forward. The discreet men acted as if they were looking around the theater for other people, but their eyes rested for a beat too long on our box. Some didn’t bother to make it secret and instead stared straight up at us, daring me to return their gaze.

  Eat it up, stare at the freak. The newest exhibit, a zoo display. Forget zebras. I was long past zebras. I was the wooly mammoth brought to life, out of place and time.

  Disgusted, I wanted to tell Enzo to forget the whole thing when I searched the crowd once more, and my eyes rested upon a man. An ordinary guy. His head and nose were perfectly shaped, but his face wasn’t clear from this angle. Good-looking? Can you tell if a man is handsome from overhead? No, probably not. In fact, it was an ordinary head, with regular brown hair and yet, I couldn’t look away. He was with a woman who kept peeking at me and attempting to get the man to look at me too. I hoped he would, but his other audience members held his attention. I hoped he would.

  Then, the strangest emotion came over me. Not the sorrow or confusion that had plagued me for the previous few days, not even anger. An unexpected calmness, almost like being home, replaced all the sadness, all the anxiety. Just looking at the man’s head caused me to feel better, normal.

  I looked away for a moment and my sadness returned, but its grip was weaker this time.

  I scanned the crowd for the man again. Once I found him, the same odd feeling took over, and I eased. It was the strangest thing. When I averted my eyes, the bad emotions returned but disappeared after I saw him. This made no sense. How could looking at a stranger make me feel better? No. It was stupid, and yet…

  Enzo patted my arm. “Has someone caught your attention?”

  “No, why?” I asked. If Enzo noticed, I was sure others were seeing me stare too, but I enjoyed the feeling of normal. As long as I was looking at that ordinary man, I felt like the old me. “Enzo, do you recognize everyone here?”

  “Yes, who do you want to know?” He leaned over the balcony. “You do see someone. Who caught your eye?” Enzo asked this like a cat pouncing on a fat mouse. “I filled the place with people who long for nothing more than to meet you. The women all want to be you. Oh, and eligible bachelors—even some ineligible—simply waiting for the opportunity to date a Merric.”

  “Um… nothing like that. I’m just looking at everyone.” I said. Still, I wanted information about this man, and Enzo was my best bet. “There are probably a lot of people who know my family here. So who is everyone?”

  “You have family here,” Enzo said, and his face lit up. He pointed to another balcony across the theater to an ancient woman dressed in pink with a huge pink hat adorned with flowers and feathers. “That is Lady Poppy Merric. She is your great-great-great aunt. Don’t let her appearance confuse you. The poor dear is next to death, she’s so old. One hundred eighty-three and some odd months. I don’t even see why she bothered to come tonight. She’s completely deaf.”

  “183? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, why would I?”

  Enzo pointed to the floor seats. “Dryden, General and Commander of Libratiers defense, is sitting third row, fifth seat. Third box over is—”

  “That’s right,” I mumbled to myself. “The Libratiers are real.”

  Doc nodded.

  Enzo continued, “The American Armed Forces are real. My goodness, they kept you in the dark. Anyway, Amenity is in the third box over there. Now, that’s an interesting woman. She can tell you anything you’d want to know about magnetics,” he said.

  The lights in the house dimmed. Obscured by the darkness, the ordinary man disappeared into the crowd.

  But he was down there. I knew he was, and it still made me feel better.

  The curtains parted.

  Rows of birds, all different types, filled the stage. Robins, nightingales, sparrows, cardinals, wrens, even crows. All their heads faced down, frozen in position. Suddenly, the center bird, a warbler, lifted its beak and sang one solitary note. Then the two birds that flanked it turned their beaks to the rafters and sang the same tune. Soon all the birds joined in with the same haunting harmony.

  A beautiful woman lowered from above the stage. The lights illuminated her red sequined dress and danced off her chestnut brown hair. Suspended, she sang out the same note as the birds, and the perfect pitch and tone made my eyes water.

  Enzo whispered. “The Lark.”

  When she landed on the stage, the birds lowered their heads. Then half of their little beaks raised, and the woman sang. The birds rotated and changed like Christmas lights in a sporadic and yet deliberate pattern. There wasn’t a band. It wasn’t necessary; the birds did all the work. There was a point where I could have sworn that the birds sang the words, but they couldn’t. All that ever came out were the notes. Never had I seen anything like it, and I doubted there was anything to compare in my entire world.

  At the end, the singer bowed, as did the birds. The crowd rose to its feet.

  Enzo whispered in my ear. “Did you know all those birds are real?”

>   I clapped along with everyone. “No way,” I said, and I noticed people filing out. My eyes scanned the crowd for the man. He’d already left his seat, and I frantically searched for him.

  Doc stood next to me and looked down at the crowd. “Is everything all right, Waverly?”

  I nodded my head. “Oh, yeah.” I searched, my anxiety growing. I wanted to see the man one more time. After several frantic scans, I found him. He walked down the aisle with his date. Several women stopped their exit to stare at him. Another pushed past his date and gave him a hug from behind.

  “Oh,” Doc said, and I focused on him in time to see a massive smile erupt across Doc’s face, and he couldn’t stop his laughter. I then followed Doc’s gaze and found he was locked on the same man. I felt myself blush.

  Enzo turned from Doc and then to me. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing, sorry. Simply a beautiful and welcomed complication,” Doc replied.

  “Complication?” I asked. I wasn’t following.

  Doc smiled and whispered, “You’ll see. It’s one of life’s greatest surprises.”

  “Right,” Enzo said. “Anyway, I was saying the birds are all real, not animatronics. No one knows how The Lark trained them. She may tell you or she may not, but if she does, let me know the trick.”

  Doc donned his hat, growing a foot taller, and backed up the balcony. “I see my son is here tonight. I must excuse myself.”

  Enzo nodded to Doc. “And will your son be joining us for dinner? You know he never sent his RSVP; otherwise, he would have been sitting up here with us.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Doc declined politely. “It required some cajoling to get him to make an appearance tonight. He has many affairs to attend. I will see you tomorrow.” The curtain swung behind him.

  “Affairs? Interesting way of putting it,” Enzo said with a knowing smile.

  “What do you mean?” Apples don’t fall far from their trees. Doc was so pleasant, I couldn’t see him having a horrible kid.

  “His son’s very important to the Merrics. You’ll meet him, but I suggest you not form any attachments. He’s... oh, how do I put it... he’s handsome but not the type to settle down.”