Rosehead

by Ksenia Anske

Ed sat next to Lilith, timidly taking her hand. They exchanged a glance. Lilith soundlessly moved her lips, I’ll tell you later, knowing it was a lie. She’d never tell him what she agreed to do.

  Lilith’s parents, as expected, launched into a sophisticated match of exchanging insults, only this time both sides were even. After a short while, Gabby gave up, mopping her tears and watching her husband get a wet towel from the bathroom to clean his daughter’s cuts. She stood a bit to the side, like a frightened squirrel, her eyes puffy.

  “Mom, I love you,” croaked Lilith. She couldn’t remember the last time she said that to her mother.

  “What—what did you say?” Gabby sidled to the bed.

  Daniel paused, Panther ceased licking, Ed stifled a cough.

  “Mom, Dad, I wanted to tell you both that I love you.”

  “We love you too, pup.”

  “Thank you for caring for me, for raising me, for—for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t more cooperative.” A desire to spend time with her mother flooded Lilith, and a pang of regret prickled her gut.

  “Oh, baby. I love you, too!” Gabby squeezed her daughter, rocking her back and forth, until Lilith felt the need to breathe, rolling her eyes at Panther, who barked.

  Gabby let go, embarrassed. “About the pills, if you ever need a break, all you have to do is ask.”

  A cloud of sickly sweet fragrance filled the room.

  Alfred silently materialized by the bed, dressed in a festive suit of burgundy velour with a strikingly bright rose in his lapel, his hair puffy as if he just took a shower.

  “Well, well. I told you she’d turn up eventually, didn’t I? There was no need to worry after all.”

  “Hello, Grandfather,” pronounced Lilith clearly, her fear of him gone in the face of death, her sense of sarcasm returning full force, bringing with it renewed energy.

  “Alfred! Where have you been? What is the meaning of this?”

  “Dad? Now you decide to show up?”

  “Actually, it’s my fault. I asked the mansion not to let you guys out,” Lilith interjected, staring into Alfred’s unblinking eyes. “Dear Grandfather, I apologize profusely for causing such an uproar in your house and for disturbing your guests. It was very inconsiderate and egotistical of me, but I assure you that after tomorrow’s carnival I will vanish from your life, never to bother your sacred presence again.”

  If there were crickets in the mansion, you’d be able to hear them. Alas, even crickets were wise enough to avoid living here.

  Alfred threw his hands in the air. “Son, sorry I was gone. Had some important business to attend to. Your daughter must be very tired. Listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s saying. What did you say, my dear girl, can you repeat it?”

  “On the contrary, I’m starting to believe that she might actually know exactly what she’s saying,” Daniel responded stiffly.

  All attention on her, Lilith composed herself. It didn’t matter if her father believed her or not, she had one day left to live, and it had to count. There were things she wanted to do, and those things were: scaring her grandfather out of his socks, watching her mother knit, taking a stroll with her father, looking for a squirrel with Panther, and kissing Ed. She definitely wanted to know what it felt like to properly kiss.

  Lilith marched up to Alfred.

  “What I said, dear Grandfather, was that I’m sorry I caused such a racket, and that it was my fault for locking everyone up. What I meant was that it’s between me and the property now. You, sadly, are out of the picture.” She flashed her grandfather a smile, elated at his perplexed expression, turned on her heels, and hiked into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it.

  Once alone, she slid to the floor, buried her face in her hands, and let go. Silent convulsions shook her. Muffled talking seeped under the door. Lilith ignored it, trying to look at her life from beginning to end. It was a small and fragile thing, packed with worries and problems and grudges that seemed so unfounded now, so silly, so childish.

  Frantic scratching issued from the door. A long pink tongue flashed under it. Lilith turned away, but the scratching only intensified, with an added whining that could drive even the most patient dog breeder nuts. Lilith knew that once Panther started, faithful to his stubbornness, he wouldn’t stop.

  “What?” She opened the door a mere hairline.

  Immediately, a black paw pushed its way in, so that if Lilith wanted to close the door, she’d have to crush it. “What do you want?” she snapped.

  Panther pushed in his head, and was in the process of squirming in entirely, when Lilith caught Ed staring at her tearstained face from the back of the room. She let in Panther, swiftly shut the door, and rounded on him.

  “Can’t you tell I want to be alone?”

  “Clearly. If you’ll allow me to explain why I’ve violated your desire, it’s only because I agreed to help you. We are partners, like Watson and Holmes. And partners don’t give up on each other. Besides, you’re the best pet owner I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving. Well, considering the fact I only had one.” He grew quiet. “Dear Lilith...” He inclined his head.

  Lilith couldn’t remember the last time Panther addressed her by her first name, so she knew it must be important to him.

  “That deal you made with the mansion, it was foolish.”

  “Oh, spare me the lecture, please,” Lilith scoffed. “Don’t look!”

  Panther politely averted his eyes.

  Lilith peeled off her clothes, threw them on the floor, and stepped into the shower. It felt wonderful to let the water wash off the dirt, although it painfully stung every cut.

  “I’m not looking.” Panther stuck his nose to the glass shower door. “Only want to make sure you hear me clearly.”

  “And what is it that you want to tell me? You know there is no point, right? I made up my mind and you, with your little inquiries, will only make it worse,” said Lilith crossly, making a concentrated effort to shampoo her hair.

  “Dear Lilith,” Panther began again, which was so unlike him that Lilith paused.

  “What? WHAT?” she almost screamed.

  There was rapping on the door. “You okay in there, pup?”

  “Sorry, Dad, talking to myself.”

  “Lilith? When you’re done, I put clean clothes here for you on the floor,” added Gabby.

  “Thanks, Mom!” Lilith rinsed her hair, turned off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and squatted next to Panther. “I’m sorry I yelled. And can you be quieter, please?”

  “I don’t care if they hear,” he growled, his jewel eyes misty.

  “You don’t?” Lilith felt her brows travel upward.

  “Dear Lilith,” he began tentatively for the third time, his nose twitching nervously.

  A squabble broke out in the room. It sounded like a father—son argument, and it transpired in German.

  Lilith cupped her face, patiently waiting for the rest. “All right. Out with it.”

  Panther cleared his throat. “I, Panther Bloom Junior, adore you from the tip of your nose to the tip of your toes. I’ll lick your feet every day. I won’t complain about the lack of squirrels. I’ll gladly sleep on the filthiest rug you give me.” He passed a tongue over his muzzle in that characteristic doggy way. “I’ll never call you madam again, or make fun of you.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t need that rosy jacket; I’m fine being, um, nude, if only you’d call off your deal with the mansion. I don’t want it to eat you. Please, let’s find another way to stop this. My poor little doggy heart can’t stand the thought of losing you, it makes me want to throw myself into a pile of angry cats and be no more!” he barked dramatically.

  Lilith held his head by the ears.

  “There is no way back, Panther, you heard them.”

  “How do you know they’re not lying? We don’t even know who they are. Some crow-scaring, dust-biting bunch of plants that decided they have brains.”

  “They’re phantoms of those whose blood�
�”

  “Madam—er, I mean, Lilith,” Panther corrected himself guiltily, “how do you know they’re telling the truth? Tell your dad! He seems to be warming up to the idea.”

  “Doesn’t warm up fast enough.”

  “Let’s just get out of here, this exact moment.”

  “And leave all those people to die? No, I can’t do that.”

  “Since when do you feel responsible for them?”

  “I’m heir to the Bloom property, Panther!” Lilith said with certain pride, towering above him. “I’m responsible for the mansion, for the rose garden, and for everyone who happens to be residing here, don’t you understand?”

  “Then I’m going with you,” growled Panther quietly.

  “What? No.”

  “Me. Too,” said a familiar voice through the door.

  Outraged, Lilith unlocked the door and nearly bumped into Ed, who apologetically stretched out his arms with Lilith’s clothes neatly folded on them.

  “How long have you been standing here?” She rounded on him.

  “Only. A little.” Ed shrugged. “Sorry. I’m. Friend. Coming with you.”

  Lilith battled with herself for a moment. “It’s not like I can stop you two, is it?”

  Both Ed and Panther shook their heads, grinning. Lilith narrowed her eyes. Her parents whispered something to each other, Alfred apparently having departed.

  Lilith sighed. “I don’t approve of this idea, and don’t look at me like this. A new beret!” she exclaimed, only now noticing what lay on top of the pile. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Had to do something. Couldn’t sleep,” said her mother from the back of the room.

  The beret was knit from yarn of various reds, forming a familiar pattern. “It’s a rose,” whispered Lilith. “If I wear it, will it make me a Rosehead?”

  As if she heard her, the bush woman moaned from the depths of the garden. In answer, the mansion shuddered, creaking and stretching in the preparation for its final exquisite meal.

  Chapter 30

  The Unsuccessful Plan

  A hushed silence filled the room, giving Lilith the false hope that perhaps her parents felt something. They didn’t, and just looked at their daughter with worry. Muttering an excuse to Ed, she grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. It was her last clean outfit, a red shift dress, matching cardigan, and flats, intended for the pompous good-bye dinner. Lilith dried her hair and dressed reluctantly, studying herself in the mirror. She didn’t approve of formal dresses; they restricted her movement.

  “Bloody perfect dress to die in, isn’t it?” she asked her reflection, thinking that if by some miracle she survived, she would adopt Rosehead as her new nickname, out of spite. She stood like this for another minute, thinking about life, death, and love—three big things she had so little time to grasp.

  “It is what it is.” She shrugged. “There is no death without life, like there is no life without love. Does that mean there is no love without death? Do I have to die to know what love means?” She fixed her new beret, contemplating. “Do I have to lose everything, before I can gain anything?” It seemed true to her in the moment. Her thoughts turned to her mother, to her awkward attempts at teaching her how to knit. Lilith always commented that knitting was certainly not an activity suited for sick people, lest she managed to poke out an eye with a needle. Gabby would typically balk and ask Lilith if she took her pills.

  Deciding that she ought to stop dwelling and enjoy her last day, Lilith emerged to the day’s first sunrays coloring the room gold.

  Ed was gone, perfectly in line with his annoying habit of disappearing. Panther snored on a pillow. Gabby and Daniel rushed to their daughter. Her father asked about her wellbeing. Her mother announced that today it would be okay to skip her medicine.

  “You look great!” said Daniel.

  “A traveling circus is coming tonight, with trained elephants. Your friends Gina and Daisy asked me if they could sit next to you, such sweet girls,” said Gabby.

  Lilith’s stomach churned. “Gwen and Daphne, Mom.”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow, pup. Aren’t you happy about that? We’ll be home in no time,” chimed in her father.

  Lilith suddenly swayed. Not enough sleep, not enough food, and plenty of exhaustion finally took its toll. Her parents exchanged a glance and led her to bed, sitting on either side. This is worth dying for, thought Lilith, this moment, this golden sunrise, this view of a stunning rose garden, Panther wheezing on a pillow, mom and dad hugging me, no lectures, no annoying questions.

  She leaned on her mother’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Gabby asked something. Daniel answered something. Lilith couldn’t detect their words. I’ll just sit like this for a bit. It’s so cozy, it’s like sitting in a pile of sleeping whippets, it’s like...She struggled to think and then wasn’t thinking anything anymore, drifting off.

  When she opened her eyes, hours later, her head was propped on a pillow, she was covered with a blanket, and the sun hung low over the horizon.

  “What?” Lilith bolted upright. “I fell asleep!”

  The evening colored the sky lavender. A sweet fragrance drifted in on a light breeze. The serene atmosphere would’ve fooled anyone but Lilith. She felt the throbbing in the very walls of the mansion, in the ground of the garden. It hummed with anticipation like a hungry predator.

  “How long did I sleep?” Her heart hammered.

  “I may have mentioned that I don’t happen to own a watch. Nor do I know how to read.” Panther yawned, sitting up.

  “Panther!” Lilith covered her mouth in horror. “We slept through the day!”

  The whippet jumped, looked out the window, looked at Lilith, and barked wretchedly.

  “Gabby! She’s up.” Daniel cracked the door open, his wife behind him. “That was a long nap. You slept like one happy puppy. Hungry?”

  “Dinner is soon.” Gabby felt her daughter’s forehead. “Our last dinner here.”

  Lilith’s stomach shrunk at these words. The recollection of past events rushed into her head. “Why did you let me sleep for so long? What time is it? When does the carnival start? Where is Ed? I need to get up!” She made to move.

  “Hang on, we’d like a word with you.” Daniel squeezed her shoulder. “If you don’t mind?”

  Her parents exchanged a conspiratorial glance.

  “What about?” asked Lilith suspiciously.

  “We know it might be difficult for you to talk about this,” started Daniel.

  “We understand that it might take you some time to open up to us,” said Gabby, pushing up her glasses.

  “But we really need to know—”

  “Where you were all night—”

  “And if anyone, even if it’s anyone we know, was with you or maybe wouldn’t let you come back—”

  “You two think I was held hostage? By grandfather?” said Lilith, breaking into laughter.

  Her parents were taken aback, consulting each other wordlessly on how to continue.

  “Let me assure you, it was nothing of the sort. My grandfather had nothing to do with it, but he also had everything to do with it. In a way,” said Lilith, flustered. “The problem is, if I were to tell you what happened, neither of you would believe me, so there is really no point in telling.” Plus, I have things to do, and there isn’t much time left, she wanted to add.

  “Why don’t you try?” said Daniel at last.

  “We’ll listen,” added Gabby.

  “No interruptions?”

  “No interruptions,” they chimed back as one.

  “No lectures? No scolding? No calling me sick and a danger to society? No threats to have me examined by a doctor or be locked up in some kind of an institution where they’ll chain me to a bed and force-feed me cold soup through a tube?”

  “No, nothing of the sort!” Gabby said, mortified.

  “Okay.” Lilith took a deep breath and, with a rush of relief, let her story flow—from ordering the room to kill
the doctor (both Gabby and Daniel gasped), to facing her grandfather, to asking the mansion to not let anyone follow her, to being pursued by Alfred and Gustav, to Panther making Bär bite his master (Gabby’s mouth opened and closed).

  Lilith took a shuddering inhale and continued weaving her tale about Ed’s tree house, Rosehead attacking Petra (Gabby covered her mouth, Daniel rubbed his face), their fight, Rosehead giving birth to dozens of carnivorous rosebushes with Alfred’s help (by now both parents just stared), her face-off with grandfather, their escape, her plea for the mansion’s help, her conversation with the heads, and meeting Eugenia and Rose Bloom.

  Lilith left out only one tiny detail, namely, her promise to give herself up to the mansion.

  “...and then you came in,” she finished with glittering eyes, looking from one parent to another, trying to read their expressions. They seemed to be wearing immobile masks in place of real faces.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “We think it’s quite a story. Isn’t it time for dinner?” said Gabby quickly.

  “I think we need to talk to dad,” added Daniel.

  Lilith swallowed. “Why? Because I’m young? Is that why you don’t believe me?”

  “No-no, it has nothing to do with age,” began Daniel.

  “For a second I thought maybe...never mind. Doesn’t matter now. I’m starving.” Bitter regret filled Lilith. Angry tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. She held them back, swiftly slid down the bed, and marched out of the room, before anyone could stop her.

  Panther trotted at her heels.

  “You could’ve backed me up, you know. Could’ve said something. Partner.” Without giving her pet a chance to answer, Lilith ran down the steps and into the dinner hall. It was empty except for Agatha carrying in steaming trays of roast and potatoes, positioning them carefully between bouquets of freshly cut roses. Lilith wanted to grab every vase and smash it on the floor, then stomp on it until it turned to paste.

  “Can I please have breakfast for dinner?” she said to the housekeeper. “I’d like an omelet with cheese, American style, with bacon, sausage, and blueberry pancakes on the side. Oh, and a bowl of steak for Panther.”