Rosehead

by Ksenia Anske

  “Of course!” exclaimed Gabby, a bit too loudly. She seemed to be fluctuating between her old self, the stern and controlling mother, and the new over-permissive one, both of which she enacted to an extreme. Lilith certainly preferred the old manner as she knew how to deal with it. The new one nearly made her jump.

  “Ah. A word?” said Daniel, scooping up a grumbling Panther. “Sure, sure, I don’t see why not. Don’t be too long. She needs to pack.” With that, they all exited, leaving the girl and the boy alone.

  Chapter 36

  The Glorious Departure

  Lilith suddenly became very interested in her dirty nails. Then she brushed her cardigan and twiddled one of its buttons. Ed’s hand stopped hers and withdrew swiftly. They looked at each other, neither risking being the first to talk. Shadows crept across the muddy floor. It was a fine summer morning, the first day of July, and nothing indicated the catastrophe from the previous night except the smoky odor lingering in the corners.

  Ed flattened his hair. “This is. For you.” He handed Lilith a piece of paper.

  Her mouth hung open involuntarily. It was an almost photographically accurate pencil drawing of her standing in the garden, complete with a beret, Panther tucked in her arms, and a bag slung over her shoulder. A signature at the bottom said, To Lilith Bloom, from Ed Vogel.

  “Wow. Thank you,” whispered Lilith. “This is amazing. Nobody ever drew a portrait of me before.”

  “I can do more. If you want,” said Ed, taking a deep breath.

  Lilith energetically nodded. “Yes, please!”

  “I think,” said Ed thickly, his face turning a deep magenta. He dropped his gaze. “I think I love you.”

  “Oh,” said Lilith. Everything inside her shrunk, and then expanded, pulsing at an alarming speed. She thought her face would melt off if she didn’t immediately stick it in the freezer. “Oh,” she said again, feeling her cheeks. Her heart fluttered. “I think...” She bit her lip and grabbed the sides of her dress skirt, for something to hold on to. She told Ed she loved him before, albeit in passing and in a rush. Somehow this felt different, this felt proper, and it gave her the fright of a lifetime. “I think...I love you. Too.” She didn’t mean it to be funny, but it mimicked Ed’s way of talking so well that they both broke into laughter.

  Lilith bent over. Ed followed suit. Their heads bumped. They caught each other, gasping. There was a dazed pause, and the next moment they kissed, clumsily at first, then more confident, assuming a passionate stance they picked up, no doubt, from watching movies.

  Alas, their bliss didn’t last long.

  “Awwww...Guck mal! Little Lily found little Eddy.” Clutching a stuffed elephant and dragging a bulging suitcase behind her, Daphne stalked in, her blond hair tucked into pigtails, her face purple with envy.

  “Mutter iz calling!” hissed Gwen, but Daphne appeared to be in a stupor and wouldn’t move.

  Ed and Lilith jumped apart as if stung. Lilith, flushed from embarrassment, took a breath to retort, and suddenly stopped. She peered at Ed. He noticed it too.

  A tear rolled down Daphne’s cheek. “And little Daphne,” she sniffled, ignoring Gwen’s horrified protests, “haz only little Moppel. Ahhhh!” She broke into a wail and buried her face in the elephant. It absorbed the moisture quite stoically, gazing into nothing with its plastic eyes.

  Lilith looked at Ed. He nodded, understanding her without words. On an impulse of overwhelming happiness, she rushed to sobbing Daphne, flung her arms around her, and kissed her plump cheek.

  “Not true. You have me. I’m your cousin. I’m coming back to live here. We can hang out together or something, if you want.” She let go.

  Daphne stood thunderstruck, blinking rapidly.

  Lilith decided to try another angle. “Um, your eyes are a beautiful color,” she said kindly. “Both of yours. It’s the color of...lila. Is that how you say lavender in German? I never noticed before.”

  Daphne stared, her mouth quivering, her sister equally mortified next to her.

  Ed shuffled up, one hand in his pocket, another absently ruffling his hair. The twins eyed him with a mixture of loathing and awe, because he was just one of those boys who didn’t realize how much his appearance and cookie smell were attractive to girls.

  “Hallo, Daphne. Hallo, Gwen. I didn’t mean that. Balloon drawing,” he said. “I mean. I did a bit. Dunno why. But I don’t. Anymore. If I kiss you, will you forgive me?” He planted two quick pecks on both of their cheeks, causing them to turn from purple to that deep shade of mauve that borders on the possibility of explosion from embarrassment.

  Ed looked at Lilith for approval. She beamed.

  “You—you didn’t—you—” Daphne sputtered.

  “He iz making fun of us!” shrieked Gwen.

  Daphne pummeled Ed with her toy, bellowing. Gwen dropped her suitcase and joined the battle. Ed shielded his face. First shock then amusement stole over his features, because none of the blows hurt him one bit.

  “What iz going on?” Irma Schlitzberger’s ponderous figure stomped into the hall. She loomed over her girls, turning them around to face her. “What have zese children done to you?”

  “We. Um,” began Ed.

  “Kissed them good-bye,” offered Lilith, making her best innocent face.

  “A boy? Kissed them?” Irma’s chest rose and fell like a mountain of fleshy rage. “I cannot tolerate this! I won’t! Out you go! Out! Out!” She rounded her daughters and pushed them out of the mansion, slamming the front door.

  “What was that about?” asked Lilith.

  “She won’t let them. Hang out with boys. Only with stuffed elephants.” Ed comically raised an arm to his face and stomped around, issuing a series of trumpeting noises. Giggling, Lilith joined him, spinning around like a ballerina. Panther ran into the hall, barking brightly.

  And so they danced in kind of a frenzied higgledy-piggledy jumble, a twelve-year-old girl who only felt still when she was moving and who could smell things other people couldn’t, a fourteen-year-old boy who found his voice again and who could draw with photographic precision, and a dog who was a talking cat in a dog’s body with an unrivaled passion for steak, rosy jackets, and squirrels.

  “Little miss? Breakfast before departure?” Agatha appeared with a tray of waffles, Monika behind her, a pitcher of water in her hands.

  A chill crept into Lilith’s stomach. She thrust the portrait at Ed, darted, and grabbed the pitcher out of Monika’s hands. “Sorry,” she told her friends, and took off.

  “Wait!” Panther ran after her.

  “Your portrait!” called Ed.

  Lilith jumped two steps at a time, splashing herself, until she made it to the second floor. She poured out the water and placed the empty pitcher on the floor, watching the puddle. It slowly spread across the marble like any self-respecting puddle ought to do. Satisfied, Lilith sprinted up another staircase to the third floor. Here, she methodically flung open every door, noticing with astonishment that each had a doorknob, unlocked.

  The rooms were empty. Nothing moved or breathed, and the gallery of paintings at the end of the corridor...Lilith stepped in and squinted. None of the portraits shifted or winked at her or moved, hanging dusty and forlorn. On the pedestal in the middle stood a stone vase with a carved marble rose inside. That was new.

  Lilith touched it. “Rosehead,” she whispered. “It was always meant for you, wasn’t it?” It passed a slight tremor, or maybe Lilith imagined it. She tore her fingers away, then touched it again, but it stood still. She turned around.

  Ed and Panther panted in the doorway.

  “You don’t like. To wait,” said Ed.

  “Waiting has never been her strong suit,” growled Panther.

  “Please accept my sincerest apologies,” said Lilith. “I had to make sure that the mansion was completely and utterly lifeless.”

  “Let’s. Air it out.” Ed walked up to the window and threw it open. Lilith picked up the idea gleefully. They procee
ded to open windows in each room, letting in the sun and chasing out the decay, until they stumbled upon the last staircase. It led to the tower. Ed and Panther paused, but Lilith sprinted up without hesitation, fighting her horror with action.

  “It’s gone!” she cried from above.

  “What’s gone?” Ed followed her.

  “Grandfather’s study. It turned into a balcony!”

  “A sewer would be more appropriate,” Panther yapped, jumping up the steps with his tail curled.

  They walked out onto a flat circular terrace surrounded by a balustrade, blue sky over their heads.

  “Did it just disappear? Just like that?” said Lilith.

  “Look!” Ed pointed.

  They peered over the railing.

  In the middle of the motor court a police car flashed its lights. Next to it stood a fire truck and a black van. A couple uniformed men gathered the remains of the elephant into huge plastic bags. A policeman chatted to Lilith’s parents and Ed’s step-mother, as another policeman walked around with a sniffing German shepherd.

  “I would imagine that hairy sheep-herder is looking for your grandfather’s—forgive me for saying this—bones,” growled Panther.

  “That brute never had. A single bone. In his body,” stuttered Ed. “He was made of. Spoiled pudding.”

  Lilith stood quietly. “I want to see the place. To make sure I didn’t imagine it.” She spun around and sped down the stairs.

  “See what?” said Ed. “I hate it. When she does this.”

  “Join the club,” grumbled Panther.

  They followed Lilith, who by now ran out into the charred expanse behind the mansion, sprinting fast to the spot where Alfred vanished. Everything looked the same uniform black. It took her a while to reach the opposite fence. Here she stopped, frantically looking around. Miraculously, none of the forest trees were touched by the fire, gazing solemnly at her from their height. She spotted the large gnarly oak with the tree house still intact in its branches.

  Ed and Panther caught up to her.

  Lilith carefully stepped between crumbling twigs, her legs covered in soot. The ground was littered with scorched leaves and other debris that issued clouds of dust when touched.

  “Nothing,” she said, disappointed. “So it did suck him into the ground. For good, I hope.”

  “What did you expect to find, his skull?” growled Panther.

  Ed touched her hand. “Your parents. Want you.”

  Gabby and Daniel waved at them from the back porch.

  With a sigh, Lilith took one last look. “Good-bye, Opa. Good-bye, Rosehead. Good-bye, phantoms. Good-bye every Bloom heir who perished here. Good-bye garden spirit, whoever you are. I apologize for setting you on fire, but I had to. I hope you rest in peace.”

  “That brought a tear to my eye,” whimpered Panther.

  “You’re good at. Talking,” said Ed, impressed.

  “Oh, stop it. Both of you,” said Lilith, embarrassed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  And so they took off, arriving in front of the mansion just in time to see the black van, the fire truck, and the police car leaving. Daniel stashed their luggage into the rental sedan. Gabby chatted with Rosalinde and the servants. Panther galloped up to Bär, seated by Gustav’s leg. They were immediately engrossed in a doggy conversation.

  “Why did you have to go there, missy?” Gabby said with disapproval. “Look at you, you’re covered in soot. I packed your things, so now there is nothing for you to change into, and you’re going to dirty the car.” She propped her arms on her hips, glaring.

  “Oh. Sorry,” said Lilith, brushing herself off as best as she could. Her mother’s tone of voice was a welcome comeback to that familiar upset manner she always used on her daughter. “Wait, we’re leaving now?”

  “Do you want to be late for our flight?” parried Gabby.

  “No,” said Lilith. “I thought we were staying. I thought—”

  “The tickets have already been paid for. It’s enough that we’re losing your father’s fare. We’ll go home, take care of things, and come back. Go say good-bye and get in. I don’t want to hear any lip.” She waved to the car and stalked off to help her husband.

  “How splendid. We’re back to normal,” said Lilith under her breath.

  Ed produced the paper from his pocket. “You forgot.”

  “My portrait!” cried Lilith, smoothing it. She leaned to kiss him and stopped midway, aware of the looks. They resorted to touching hands.

  “Pup, we have to go. I don’t want you guys to be late.” Daniel opened the driver’s door, waiting.

  “I forgot something! I’ll be quick!” Lilith jogged up the stairs to Monika. She had to set the record straight. “Excuse me, Monika. Number one, I wanted to thank you for all the steak you fed to my friend. Number two, I wanted to communicate to you that Panther is not a girl, he’s boy, okay? A boy. Not a princess.”

  Monika ogled her with large eyes, and then broke into a dazzling smile. “Ja! Ja! Mein klein Prinz!” She scooped up an unsuspecting Panther, interrupting his conversation with Bär, and covered him with smooches. He licked her cheek, throwing a sly stare at Lilith.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  Ed tapped her on the shoulder. “I think. They want you to go. Now.” He gestured with such ferocity, his feet slipped down the steps and he nearly fell.

  Gabby and Daniel beckoned from the car, urging Lilith to get in. “Just a minute!” She looked at Ed. “I’ll miss you,” she said, and added, “excruciatingly.” Just one word, she thought. Hey, I only said one word!

  “Likewise,” Ed answered laconically, enacting a whole bouquet of emotions with his arms.

  “We’ll see you soon, darling.” Rosalinde tugged on Ed’s shirt. He shuffled over.

  “Little miss.” Agatha nodded. Gustav bent, acquiring his typical servile posture.

  “Tschüss, mein klein Prinz!” Monika kissed Panther one more time and lowered him to the ground. He galloped after Lilith, who already made it to the car.

  “I’ll be back soon! Bye!” She waved, opened the passenger door, and hopped in. Panther jumped in after her, sneezing and grumbling at Lilith. “All this ash will positively give me an allergic reaction. You’re one filthy girl, you know that?”

  “Exactly my sentiment,” echoed Gabby sternly. “You know, I’m starting to like this whole talking dog idea.”

  Panther didn’t answer, still miffed at the coldness between them, but Lilith noticed him hiding a satisfied smirk.

  “Whatever,” she scoffed, brushing her dress that hardly resembled the festive number she put on the day before.

  “And, we’re off to the races, my puppies.” Daniel started the car.

  “We’re coming back, aren’t we?” asked Lilith.

  “Yes, we are. I told you. We need to take care of a few things at home first,” said Gabby, pulling out her knitting.

  “Like, special-ordering fat juicy American squirrels and transporting them here?” said Panther.

  “Um. Is that wool?” asked Lilith timidly.

  “What will I tell my client?” exploded Gabby. “I’m sorry, but my daughter doesn’t like the smell of wool? I can’t simply leave this sweater unfinished, I’ve already started!”

  The car filled with thick silence.

  Daniel gave her the look. “You okay, love?”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabby mumbled to her daughter. “Sorry, baby. It’s a lack of sleep and—I haven’t forgotten. Of course I’ll switch to cotton after this.” Trying on the new nice personality certainly gave her trouble, but she managed a smile nonetheless.

  Daniel reached out and squeezed her hand. She didn’t yell at him like she usually did, but squeezed it back, a guilty look on her face, like that of a squirrel that’s been caught stealing food.

  Lilith glanced at Panther, but her pet, upset by the lack of response to his request, yawned several times in an exaggerated manner and covered his nose wi
th both paws. “You still owe me steak,” he grumbled. “And the jacket. And—”

  “I know, I know. Once we get home,” said Lilith, turning around and waving. Ed waved back so enthusiastically, he managed to slap Gustav.

  “I’m glad you have a...boyfriend,” Gabby told her daughter in an effort to smooth things over. “At least something good happened out of this disaster of a trip.”

  “Disaster for sure,” Daniel sighed, shifting speeds. They passed the front gate and rolled out onto Rose Street, Rosenstrasse in German.

  Lilith raised a brow. “Mom, he’s just a friend.”

  “Of course. Just a friend.” Her parents exchanged a glance.

  “Here is your bag. I packed your things.” Gabby handed the bag to Lilith.

  “Thanks, Mom! You’re the best.”

  Gabby smiled.

  By sheer habit, Lilith pulled out The Hound of the Baskervilles and cracked it open, pointing to a random spot. “Learn then from this story not to fear the fruits of the past,” she read soundlessly, “but rather to be circumspect in the future, that those foul passions whereby our family has suffered so grievously may not again be loosed to our undoing.”

  “They won’t. Not anymore,” she whispered, rolling down the window. Warm wind washed over her face, bringing with it the faint smell of smoke and not a whiff of the stink.

  It was gone.

  Lilith let out a sigh of relief.

  They were leaving Rosenstrasse. At the end of it, surrounded by burned landscape, the forlorn shape of the mansion stood out like a sore thumb, ghostly white in the sun. The forest rippled behind it. A lone crow flew by, screeching. Lilith frowned. She had a peculiar feeling that something, somewhere, stirred. But it couldn’t have; it died. She shook her head, chasing the premonition away, and closed her eyes, letting the car’s movement lull her to sleep.

  At this precise moment, in the back of the scorched wasteland that used to be a magnificent rose garden, on the spot where Alfred Bloom vanished, a tiny sapling shot from beneath the ground, growing quickly—one line of green against the expanse of black. It looked like it might grow into some type of a bush, or maybe into a tree, or maybe, just maybe, into something else entirely.