Rosehead

by Ksenia Anske

  The twins sniggered. Their pigtails touched as they undoubtedly discussed Lilith’s appearance. They wore matching purple evening gowns, and Lilith immediately despised her choice of navy skirt and sailor shirt.

  “Ooh-la-la!” the woman nearly sang. “I like ze child wiz ze character.” Karakter, it sounded like. “Irma Schlitzberger, your grandfather’s cousin.” She stretched out her pudgy hand. Lilith reluctantly shook it. It felt like she was sinking her fingers into cold cookie dough. “Zis iz Gwen and Daphne. They were very much looking forward to your arrival.” She pointed at the girls, and they grinned, revealing identical braces.

  “Of course they were,” said Lilith.

  “Hallo,” they squealed in unison, staring her down.

  “I’m Daphne. Zis iz Gwen. What iz your name?” said the girl on the right with surprisingly little accent, probably the brighter of the two. Her heavy jaw stuck out, indicating utter dislike. Lilith imagined the hell she would be put through if forced to hang out with the pair, and she thought it best to end all pretense of friendliness on the spot.

  “Lilith Bloom.” Lilith flashed her flawless smile back. “Nice to meet you.”

  Daphne answered in German with a smug look on her face.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand—”

  “Zat iz too bad. I suppoze American girlz don’t study foreign languages like German girlz do.” Daphne radiated victory. Her sister giggled.

  “No,” said Lilith, holding her breath steady after the insult. “We only study Martian. In case aliens take over the planet and we have to talk to them. Those of us left alive as representatives of the best human specimen. You know, the tallest, the prettiest, the thinnest kind.”

  Daphne’s face reddened like a beet, the color rapidly spreading to her neck. “Mutter!” she wailed, jabbing a finger at her newly established enemy. Irma opened her mouth, when Alfred let go of his granddaughter’s arm and took her elbow.

  “My dear Irma...dinner is about to be served, I believe. Shall we?” He covered the awkwardness with his charming voice, and at once, they all moved and shuffled and pulled out chairs and settled down. Lilith promptly found herself seated opposite her parents and in between Daphne and Gwen, who immediately turned and pinched her hard on each side.

  “Willkommen to Berlin, Lily,” whispered Gwen.

  “It’s Lilith,” she hissed.

  “We will make your stay enjoyable,” said Daphne.

  “Ze German way,” finished her sister.

  Lilith silently fumed, afraid to lose control and snap at the sisters in the presence of their mother, not to mention her own mother who eyed her suspiciously from across the table.

  “Lilith! What took you so long?” she said.

  “We were talking. About roses.” Lilith forced herself to look serene, as if she’d taken the pills.

  “Your luggage is in your room, pup. Where’s Panther?” inquired Daniel.

  “I...took care of him.” Alfred pulled out a chair at the head of the table and sat down.

  “You did, did you?” Daniel raised his brows.

  They launched into an argument about dog breeds, how whippets were a joke (Alfred’s opinion), and how mastiffs were unintelligent clumsy brutes (Daniel’s opinion).

  To tune them out, Lilith focused on getting food, pouring herself a glass of lemonade, and snatching the apple from the mouth of the roasted boar. As she ate and drank, the noise crawled under her skin. To make matters worse, Alfred Bloom delivered a welcome speech and everyone stood in turn, remembering the late Eugenia Bloom, the very reason for this family reunion. Gabby chatted up a few ladies, ran off, and came back with a bundle of hand-knit sweaters. Money exchanged hands and excited exclamations made Lilith’s head hurt. The lights shined too bright. The food smelled too strong. The dishes and utensils clinked and clanked too loud.

  Lilith’s heart twanged too fast and her mouth went dry. It was too much, too irritating, too chaotic. She badly wanted to run upstairs, lock herself in her room, and stick her nose into The Hound of the Baskervilles, with Panther at her side. She looked up and spotted a skinny boy studying her from the far end of the table, untouched food on his plate, pallid face cupped in his hands. She judged him to be about her age, maybe a little older. They locked eyes, and understanding flashed between them.

  He seemed to say, Whoever invented family reunion dinners deserves to suffer...

  Lilith seemed to answer, the terrible fate of enduring it every night.

  He squinted as if adding, better yet, every hour.

  Lilith nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

  “That iz Ed, our step-cousin. He iz mute.” Daphne’s hot whisper jerked Lilith out of her observation.

  “He haz no tongue. Zey cut it out,” added Gwen.

  Lilith balled her hands into fists. “Did they?”

  Daphne nearly stuck her fat lips into Lilith’s ear, excitedly firing off the next bit of information. “He licked a frozen metal door. In ze winter. Would anyone normal lick a door? His tongue stuck to it. It froze. Zey had to cut it off with a knife.”

  “Zey tried sewing it back,” Gwen interjected.

  “Shut up.” Daphne made an angry face, and Gwen promptly closed her mouth.

  Lilith was pressed between their hot bodies like a slice of bread in a toaster, and she urgently wanted to pop up.

  “He hates sign language. He doezn’t talk at all,” Daphne continued testily. “He flips lights on and off in hiz room, like he iz sending messages to someone. It iz creepy.” She threw a conspicuous glance at Ed.

  Ed assumed the I-don’t-see-you expression.

  “How do you know?” Lilith asked sharply.

  “We saw it yesterday,” Gwen offered. “From our window.”

  “Hiz face iz so white. He looks like a ghost.” Daphne smirked and took a deep breath to gossip some more, when Lilith decided she’d had enough.

  “Well, I think he looks rather handsome,” she said, and then stood up so fast that the chair fell out from underneath her.

  At this point, the floor moved. Or maybe it seemed only to Lilith that it moved, because nobody else noticed anything, buzzing away merrily over their drinks, stuffing their faces with free food and meaningless conversations. Lilith stretched out both arms for balance in a practiced ballet move.

  The room jolted sharply. A few glasses tinkled on the table; yet again, nobody took notice. Lilith realized she knew this would happen from the moment she laid eyes on the mansion, a sleepy tomb that woke up to greet the night.

  “I knew it,” she whispered, and felt the floor come out from under her feet as if the hall turned into a gigantic elevator cabin that descended underground.

  Her heart hammered loudly, a cold sweat broke on her skin, and her mouth tasted bitter. She wanted to scream, to get someone’s attention. Her parents quietly talked to each other, their heads bent. Lilith knew from years of experience that it was no use trying to tell them. Her grandfather laughed heartily at something Irma Schlitzberger just said. A little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve, demanding more cake. A group of ladies showed off their newly acquired sweaters to each other. People blurred into one nattering soup.

  Panther, I need you, thought Lilith, and caught Ed staring at her. He held her gaze and nodded. He felt it too.

  The floor lurched one more time as if the elevator stopped. Lilith lost her balance and promptly collapsed onto the floor.

  Chapter 3

  The Moving Mansion

  Lilith knew that every house moved, but grandfather’s mansion did more than that. Waking up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed, Lilith learned that not only did it descend underground for the night, but it also rearranged itself randomly throughout the day. None of the guests seemed to have registered this fact, peacefully strolling between rows of bushes and loudly expressing their delight. It’s what woke Lilith and it’s what she observed now through her second story window. Everybody seemed to love the garden. Everybody, except her.
It had a hidden sinister side to it, and she was determined to uncover its secret.

  Suddenly, the floor tilted and the room sped along the perimeter of the house, making a full circle and coming to an abrupt stop. Lilith clung to the windowsill, light-headed and tempted to use some very bad words. She tried to remember how she got here and who changed her into pajamas. Her rosy pajamas, that shade of diluted pink that reminded her of ballerinas and helped her go to sleep. Her other favorite colors were blue, red, and black, each represented by a different beret and acting like mood setters.

  “You can turn inside out or fly to Mars, for all I care. Go ahead. I’m not scared of you,” she whispered to the room.

  The room didn’t answer.

  “That was very rude. I’m talking to you,” said Lilith.

  They stared at each other.

  “Fine. Have it your way,” Lilith scoffed, looking around in search of her luggage.

  Compared to her room back home, this one had no color. About ten by ten feet, it gleamed in the morning sun with white walls, a white-painted iron bed, and white cotton bedding, as if grinning a dazzling smile. Even the doors where white, identical and unlabeled.

  Lilith spotted her bag, shed her pajamas, and pulled on skinny jeans, a rosy cardigan, red Mary Janes, and her red beret, and then she cautiously opened one of the doors.

  Behind it was a shared bathroom. An elderly lady smelling of soap, her head full of rollers and her face covered with green paste, turned and screamed. For the next minute, Lilith endured a gnarly finger shaking two inches from her nose and a high-pitched ululating voice telling her in bad English what a naughty girl she was to barge in without knocking. At last, the lady convulsed in a series of coughs and flung both hands to her chest in utmost distress over the girl’s lack of manners.

  Lilith shut the door, breathing fast. Promptly, another door swung open and Gabby slid in, followed by an aura of wooly scent and irritation. “I see you’re up and dressed. Good. We need to have a little chat.”

  “Um...” Lilith said.

  “Good job scaring everyone with your theatrics yesterday.” Gabby glared. “I had to chalk it up to jetlag.”

  “What?”

  “You fainted. At dinner. You don’t remember? I know exactly why it happened, missy. You must have spit out your pills, while your father and I were busy. No need to roll your eyes. I know it for a fact, and I don’t want to hear any stories.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You thought you could hide them in the car?” She shook the vial, letting the tablets rattle.

  “I didn’t—”

  “Very clever. Just so you don’t attempt to do this again, you’ll take three pills today. Three. Don’t give me that accusatory look. I’m not leaving until I see you swallow them.” Gabby stared her daughter down.

  “But, Mom—” she tried again, although she knew that once Gabby Bloom started her wrath, nobody could interrupt her.

  “Nope. No excuses.” With a sigh of impatience, Gabby popped out three capsules. “Take them.”

  Lilith stared, wishing the pills would melt or catch fire.

  “Now,” Gabby said forcefully. Her face exuded that parental care that bordered on malice despite best intentions.

  Lilith’s heart fell. Desperate, she decided to go for the truth. “Mom, I’m feeling okay, I promise. Yes, I spit out the pills, and I’m sorry.”

  “See? I knew it.”

  “But I swear it wasn’t why I fainted. It’s this place. There’s something going on here. The rose garden, it stinks. Doesn’t it stink to you? And the mansion...it moves just like our house, only worse. It goes up and down, like an elevator. The rooms can move too, at least my room did. That’s why yesterday, when the dinner hall descended...” Everything she said suddenly sounded so silly that she paused, groping for words.

  Gabby sighed. “I thought I asked you not to give me any stories. It won’t work, Lilith, you know it. Open your mouth, please.”

  Backed into a corner, Lilith had no choice but to oblige. Gabby placed the capsules on her tongue.

  “It really moves, Mom,” Lilith mumbled before swallowing, fantasizing about gagging herself later.

  Gabby’s features twitched like those of a squirrel. “Please. We’ve been through this before. Listen to me. I want you to have a good time while we’re here, okay? Hang out with those girls, whatever their names are, Gina and Daisy—”

  “Gwen and Daphne.”

  “Take a walk in the garden, socialize a bit, get out of this room and forget about your books. I don’t know, maybe—”

  “Mom, books are my life.”

  “Smell the roses. Where did you get this idea about the garden smelling bad? It smells wonderful. Your dad and I are going to look at it today. Your grandfather is showing us some new bushes he planted. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.”

  “Actually, I really need to pee.”

  “Breakfast will be served soon, you better—”

  “Mom, it is of paramount importance that I relieve myself. I don’t like soiling my jeans.” Lilith’s typical approach worked, as always.

  Disgusted, her mother opened the bathroom door and pushed Lilith inside. It consisted of a tiny toilet, tiny sink, tiny shower stall, and tiny window. The elderly lady was gone.

  Lilith locked the door, kneeled, stuck two fingers in her throat, and—flushing the toilet simultaneously—expertly threw up three half-dissolved pills. She had years of practice; she’d been forced to take medicine since elementary school, after teachers complained about her not paying attention, daydreaming, or spontaneously dancing in the middle of the classroom. Neither the principal nor her parents believed that the school building only stood still when Lilith moved.

  Needless to say, she became the laughing stock of her class from day one. Some boy called her loony, and the name stuck. She escaped into books (primarily about Sherlock Holmes), into ballet lessons (which helped her concentrate), and into sniffing flowers (to block out revolting odors issuing from the ground, indicative of places where someone, or something, decomposed). After having survived her grandmother’s funeral and the reek of the cemetery at the age of almost three, Lilith could handle any stink, that is, until she smelled Alfred Bloom’s rose garden.

  Shuddering in revulsion, Lilith stuck her face under the faucet, gulped water, and hurried out of the bathroom. Following her mother, she sped through the corridor lined with identical doors, down the marble staircase, and into the dinner hall, freshly cut roses already arranged in vases.

  “Look. There are your friends, Gina and Daisy,” Gabby said brightly.

  Lilith decided not to bother with an answer.

  “Excellent, you’ll have company. Eat, please. You know it’s not good to take your medicine on an empty stomach.” Gabby whispered that last part. “I’ll go wake your father. We’ll be right back.” The next moment, she took off.

  Lilith approached uncertainly. She expected breakfast to be the usual American fare, but what she saw made her gasp with glee. The table offered all kinds of jam, marmalade, syrup, and nougat-crème; plates of rolls, bowls of yogurt, and trays of freshly made waffles that issued a delicious smell.

  Gwen and Daphne already devoured their food, their pudgy bodies squeezed into matching tank tops and shorts. Lilith halted, conscious of her jeans, long-sleeve cardigan, and beret. She couldn’t help it, always feeling cold, finding relief only in taking hot showers or warming her hands on Panther’s belly.

  “Panther,” she exclaimed under her breath. “I forgot all about Panther. Oh, how could I. Oh, how disgraceful. Oh—”

  She noticed her grandfather’s studying glare.

  “GUSTAV!” he bellowed.

  At once, and seemingly out of nowhere, the butler emerged and placed the whippet into Lilith’s arms. It happened so fast, for a moment Lilith became speechless.

  “Panther!” she said, and kissed his head while he licked her face, as if they’d been separated for an ete
rnity. “Oh, Panther, I missed you.”

  “I certainly missed you, too,” he growled. “Oops, here comes the creep.”

  Lilith looked up.

  Alfred strolled toward them. “Good morning, my dear. I take it you slept well?” He stretched his lips into a smile.

  “Yes, unequivocally,” Lilith replied.

  “Fond of big words, are you? I hear you read a lot. Just like your father...he was a bookworm. I always thought that reading books was a waste of time. Fills your head with unnecessary nonsense. I read only business books...and suggest you do the same. You need to learn how to make money.” He tapped a finger on her forehead.

  Lilith decided that she now had two perfectly valid reasons to hate her grandfather.

  “I understand you missed your...creature,” he continued. “I’m afraid, however, that we can’t have it with us for breakfast.”

  Then why did you give him to me? Lilith wanted to ask, but she bit her lip. Her grandfather seemed to enjoy trying her patience. She decided not to give him the pleasure.

  “It’ll have to wait...by the door. Bär will guard it.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My mastiff. You had the pleasure of meeting him yesterday.”

  “Oh, that—” Lilith almost said monster. Bär, she suddenly remembered, meant bear in English. It matched him perfectly. From her father’s several unsuccessful attempts to teach her German, Lilith only picked up the names of the animals. “Certainly, Grandfather,” she said sweetly and let go of Panther, who held his tail in defiance, letting Gustav lead him away.

  Brooding, ignoring Gwen and Daphne chatting her ears off, and barely touching any food, Lilith anxiously scanned every entering face, hoping to see Ed. He failed to show up. Instead, her parents strolled in. Lilith stoically endured her father’s clumsy hug and half-listened to her mother’s instructions to not leave the property and to please have some fresh air and to please socialize and to PLEASE be back in time for dinner, for an important announcement. After nibbling on a waffle and upending a glass of juice, Lilith managed to escape, snatch Panther right from under Bär’s nose to his loud grumble, and slink out into the garden.