by Matthew Fish
“It is all right,” Elise said as she looked off to the party in the distance.
“It is not,” grandmother said, “You are indebted to him. You must do what he asks of you tonight and then you will be bound to Red Manor as I am….”
“What do you mean? To whom am I indebted?” Elise asked, even more confused. “I am happy at Red Manor. You are not making sense, are you sure you do not need to rest?”
“I am very sick,” grandmother replied, her voice tired and scratchy. “But it will never be the death of me.”
“Elise…,” Ryan announced as he appeared from the lighted pathway.
“Ryan,” Elise said angrily, “where have you been?”
“I am sorry, I had to make preparations.”
“What such preparations were so important that you could not be bothered to attend my birthday?” Elise asked. No tears came but she fought a strong battle to keep them at bay along with the tide of her rising anger.
“Preparations for your birthday,” Ryan said as he placed a firm hand upon Elise’s shoulder. “We have something important to discuss—and I have a gift for you.”
“Grandmother?” Elise asked.
“She will be fine,” Ryan assured Elise as he headed off back toward Red Manor.
“Go, child,” grandmother said as she looked away, deeply ashamed.
Elise followed behind as the pair made their way through the tall oaks and back to the arched white doorways of Red Manor. They rounded the large party table, avoiding any well-wishers or drunkards. Ryan opened up the door for Elise and she walked in.
“Where are we going?”
“To my room,” Ryan answered as he gestured toward the spiral staircase.
“Why is grandmother so upset?” Elise asked as she ascended the staircase. “Why are you acting so uncaring?”
“Please do not mistake my demeanor for anything other than care,” Ryan said as he followed behind her.
Once they reached the guest room, Ryan opened the door for Elise and followed her in, shutting and locking the door behind them.
Ryan opened a drawer in the large wooden dresser next to the door and rummaged through its contents, producing a metal key. He held it up for Elise to see and then went to his dark green suitcase with its golden lock. He placed the suitcase on his cot and opened up the lock in one quick motion. The suitcase contained only a red book, which he handed Elise.
“Happy birthday, ’Lisey,” Ryan said as he backed away and sat down on a leather chair next to the writing desk. He reached over and clicked on the switch to the electric desk lamp.
Elise stared at the old red book, the title The White Stag written on the cover in raised white lettering. She opened up the book only to find that all of the pages were completely blank.
“What is this?”
“A gift—one that was given to your great grandfather, then passed down to your grandmother, your mother, and now to you,” Ryan said as he produced a silver pen from his pocket and handed it to Elise.
“What am I to do with this?”Elise asked. “I don’t understand.”
“This is a condition of our situation at the moment,” Ryan said as he cleared a space on the writing desk. “You see, I am not just Ryan —I am in essence Red Manor, and also in the same way…I am that book.”
“That does not make any sense.”
“You see, I am a White Stag,” Ryan said as the glimmer of grey in his eyes flashed white in the light of the desk lamp. “I am a creature known by many different names by many cultures—I am a wish granter, A child of Cernunnos, I am a wanderer through time, and to my enemies I am justice.”
“Mr. Henry…,” Elise said as she backed away.
“Yes,” Ryan said, nodding solemnly. “I took no pleasure in the deed, although it was deserved.”
“You know what happened to me then…,” Elise said, her knees suddenly feeling weak, as though she might collapse to the floor.
“Let me tell you how this agreement came into being: your great grandfather was a very poor man, an outcast from the city. He had one daughter for which he cared deeply—your grandmother, Vanessa Morgan. He hunted the woods for animals and they lived in a makeshift shelter made of sticks and their lives were filled with sickness. When winter came, with its constant coldness, they were ever on the verge of death, until by chance he stumbled upon me. I was ensnared in one of his traps, and a fine catch indeed, a mythical white stag. A wish-granter…. In exchange for my life I granted him his wish for riches and land, and then love. In exchange for these wishes, he and his progeny were bound to me in the form of Red Manor. I cared for and gave them shelter, wealth, and on your grandmother’s fifteenth birthday I came in this form and offered her the chance to make her own wishes.
“What did she wish for?” Elise asked, still in disbelief.
“That very first wish is a personal matter for she still lives,” Ryan answered. “I can, however, tell you the wish she made that bound you to Red Manor, or even tell you what your mother wished—for she is no longer among the living.”
“Please tell me of my mother’s wish.”
“I would rather not if I were given a choice,” Ryan added.
“You have brought it up,” Elise said as she sat against the edge of the cot and took in a deep breath to steel herself for Ryan’s words. This was all too much information for her racing mind to process.
“I approached her on her fifteenth birthday and she wished for nothing,” Ryan said. His voice trembling as though he honestly did regret the information he was asked to reveal.
“You can do that and be free of Red Manor?” Elise asked.
“She could because she was spared a wish by her mother,” Ryan answered.
“I was not spared…,” Elise whispered.
“Your grandmother’s second wish was that if any harm shall befall you it should be repaid ten-fold. She was deep with grief at the loss of your mother and made that wish despite knowing that it would bind you to Red Manor.”
“Then why did my mother return to make a wish if she was free?” Elise asked, dreading the thought.
“She came back to wish that you were not in her life,” Ryan said.
“Did she?” Elise whispered as she began to cry. She could no longer hold back the tears that had been absent for so many hard years. Hearing such a thing stung like a knife piercing the heart.
“She had fallen in love with a man who did not want the burden of a child, a wealthy man who could give her a life that she could never have otherwise—she wished that she be free of you and that you would remain in your grandmother’s care.”
“What happened to her?”
“On the ferry ride back she slipped off of the boat just off of the island and drowned,” Ryan said as he stood up from his chair and made his way to Elise and placed an arm around her.
“Did you…,” Elise asked as she shivered in slight fear at Ryan’s touch.
“Of course not,” Ryan said as he took the book in hand and opened it up. He tore a page from the book and placed it upon the writing desk. “In a fit of selfishness she wished only to be rid of you. She should have added for her own safety as well. Or her mother should have bound her under the protection of Red Manor. Her death was unnecessary.”
“She would have been free of Red Manor with that wish, despite making a wish?” Elise asked, wiping away the tears with the edge of her gold-leaf summer dress.
“Both she and your grandmother gave me a substitute,” Ryan said as he helped Elise to her feet.
“Me…,” Elise whispered.
“Now you must make a wish; you are bound to do so. Just like those before you, simply write it down on this paper upon this writing desk and you shall see me in this form no more,” Ryan said as he steadied the pen in Elise’s trembling hand.
“I can wish for anything?” Elise asked as she allowed Ryan to help her into the seat.
“That is your right,” Ryan whispered as he placed Elise’s hand to the bl
ank page. “Even after I am gone, you can continue to do so. Just remember to write them correctly. Remember that everything said can be taken in more ways than one. So when you wish, wish for it absolutely, carefully, never in haste. Never in anger—think about what you want and make sure you are clear.”
“Do not watch,” Elise said as she grasped the pen firmly in her hand.
“As you wish,” Ryan conceded as he turned away but kept a hand on Elise’s back.
Elise gave no pause, heeded no caution, and wrote down exactly what she felt. She scrawled simply, quickly, and when she was done she placed the pen down upon the writing desk, where it rolled softly against the wood before catching upon the holder at the bottom. She slowly got up from the leather chair and looked to Ryan for what might possibly be the very last time.
“You’ve finished?” Ryan asked.
“I have,” Elise nodded.
“You are different than the others, and you have exceeded any expectations I had of you,” Ryan said as he smiled to Elise. “I will miss you in a way. You are unique in a beautiful way that I have not yet encountered.”
“Thank you for protecting me,” Elise said as she turned away and sat back down at the edge of the cot, facing the doorway blankly and awaiting her first wish.
“What is this?” Ryan said as he picked up the paper off of the desk. “I cannot grant this wish.”
“You said I could wish for anything,” Elise whispered as she turned back to see Ryan’s shocked expression. “That is my wish.”
Ryan stared in disbelief at the paper which simply read I wish that Ryan loved me as I him. It was a simple enough request, although one he did not see coming. Especially after revealing to Elise his true nature he thought that she would think of him as nothing more than a monster. “I am unable to grant this wish.”
“You never stated that it was a rule,” Elise said as she began to weep again. She buried her head into the palms of her hands and let the tears stream down and stain her white dress. “If you do not feel the same way then I take it back, but it was my wish to make.”
“I cannot love a mortal!” Ryan screamed at the deeply upset Elise.
“Then why…why did you come a week early?” Elise sobbed.
“I came to see what kind of person would be in my care and care for me in return, I came to judge your character—not to become an object of your foolish fleeting affections,” Ryan said angrily as he slammed his fist against the writing desk. “This is not a proper wish!”
“That is my wish.”
“I am incapable of feeling any such way toward you. This is not an agreement based upon your foolish notion of love, this is a bound agreement based upon mutual—“
“Then what is love if not an agreement? What is love if not to care for each other?” Elise screamed back, no longer hiding her tear-stained face.
“What do you know of love at fifteen?”
“What do you now know of love at all?” Elise retorted.
“All I know is what people have shown me: greed. Selfishness—self servance. I know what your mother showed me of love: she gave you up. She left you in her place with your grandmother, who out of the selfish fear of losing you would bind you to Red Manor because your mother did not want the responsibility. Had she stayed away, you would never have ended up in this situation. There is no such thing as love past what you foolish humans dream of, and even at its best it is still a selfish act.”
“There is good in people,” Elise whispered.
“Good intentions, yes, but at the root of it all is selfishness. People only do good things because they expect something good to come to them from it,” Ryan said as he crumpled up Elise’s wish. “Return to the desk and make a proper wish.”
“I will not take it back,” Elise said as she turned away and got to her feet.
“Make a proper wish or I will show you my anger,” Ryan threatened.
“Do as you will,” Elise said as she reached for the door. “If you can do anything at all—are we not bound to protect each other now?”
“There will come a time when you will make your wish,” Ryan said calmly as sank in the leather chair by the writing desk. “Greed is the nature of all humans.”
“Perhaps,” Elise said as she opened the door. She looked back once and just as she suspected, Ryan was no longer there. He had kept his word that he would not be seen again, not in that form.
“I meant it,” Elise whispered to the now empty room. “Even if you cannot believe it, I do love you, Ryan ….”
Elise shut the door to the guest room and allowed one last tear to escape from her saddened eyes. She wiped it away with the short sleeve of her summer dress that had already bore the weight of many tears. She was more upset with being rejected by Ryan than any of the unusual circumstances to which she was now bound. She began to walk toward the spiral stair as she came upon grandmother, who stood on the second spiral stair, hiding around the corner like a wraith.
“Has he left, then?” grandmother asked, her face pale and dark circles besieging her worried eyes.
“He has,” Elise answered sharply. “What did you wish for?”
“You must understand…,” grandmother began.
“I understand everything I need to,” Elise interjected. “He would not tell me but that does not mean that you cannot—am I right in presuming this?”
“My father wished for a lot of things, yet it was what he did not wish for that killed him,” grandmother said as she attempted to embrace Elise.
Elise backed away; she did not want anyone’s comfort. Not now.
“When I was but thirteen he died in an accident while hunting, which he continued to do so despite there being no need for it. He wished for wealth, and the manor, and a beautiful woman to love him, but he forgot to wish for protection. I was left alone in a house full of servants that he had hired. For two years I lived in loneliness at the loss of my father. When Ryan came to visit me on my fifteenth birthday and offered me my first wish I wished for what my father had not: eternal life.”
“Why would you wish for such a thing?” Elise asked as she shook her head.
“Because I was young and feared death,” grandmother said as she began to weep. “I made a mistake for this body was not meant to last forever. I am sick, old, tired, I cannot sleep, and I cannot die. I never made a wish again—that is, until you arrived, for fear that I would make a mistake again and wish for something that I did not intend.”
“Why do you not wish for your own death then?” Elise asked angered at her grandmother’s selfishness.
“The power is no longer in my hands.”
“Then perhaps I should wish you dead?” Elise asked as she held the book out before her.
“I still fear death…,” grandmother whispered. “My first wish was absolute. I doubt it would even work if you wish it to be so. It was a wish granted; but also a curse.”
“Why did you not wish for your father back?”
“He said it was not possible, not without great sacrifice. It was not possible for me in any way. My father had sealed his fate, just as I have sealed mine—now, that the book is yours,” grandmother said as she eyed the red book in both disgust and fear.
“That is the problem with this family. You all proved him right…every one of you. He offered help and your father took and took, and then you asked for what you should not, and my mother,” Elise growled as she backed away, looking upon grandmother with eyes slit in repulsion. “She asked out of selfishness as well.”
“I am so sorry,” grandmother said between heavy tears that streaked down her wrinkled face like a confluence through a dry canyon, “I wish I could take it back. I did not want you to become involved. I only cared for your safety and did not want to lose you as well. I lost so many.”
“Loss is part of life, grandmother,” Elise snapped back. “What makes us so special that we should not be unhappy, or that grief should not be so familiar to us that it pains us on a daily basi
s? There are those who go through life without any given chance. We were given something and we’ve spoiled it; we deserve whatever curse comes along with it. There should be no perfect life.”
“And what of your wish?” grandmother shouted, flecks of spit flying from her mouth. “Was it not a selfish one? “
“It might have been,” Elise said as she began to walk away, “But who forced me into a position to make one?”
“Be angry as long as you wish,” grandmother added in a calmer, more relaxed tone as though she was attempting to plead her way back into Elise’s favor. “But do not hate me for what I have done. I only wanted the best for you.”
Elise paused at the door to her bedroom. She looked to grandmother, who was on her knees and resting against the wall. She looked pitiful, defeated. Elise knew in her heart that grandmother had done only what she thought best, and it was just the wish of a woman bereaved of all hope.
“I do have anger, but I have no room in my life for hate,” Elise said softly as she entered the bedroom. She shut the door behind her and began to pace about the room nervously. Outside the window the party could still be heard in full swing, the joyous crowd, completely oblivious to what had transpired, murmuring distantly. Elise went to the record player and pulled out her mother’s favorite recording of “Für Elise”. She allowed the notes to play—normally they calmed her. This time it only left her with bitter sadness. How could her mother be so blind? How had love made her so careless that she made such a rash and cruel decision? Elise began to believe that perhaps she did not understand love after all. Perhaps Ryan was right about that part, although the thought made her even more depressed. There had to be love, and hope— there had to be something more to life than just selfishness.
Elise finds herself on the wooden floor. She is exhausted. As her eyes adjust to the dim light of the guest room she sees the old, tattered red book just out of reach. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke. Elise struggles to get to her feet but it is such an ordeal that she collapses. A hand comes from above and helps her up.
“Ryan…,” Elise whispers.
