by Jack Parker
I started when I noticed the tiny stone gargoyles about the size of a full-grown English Springer Spaniel sitting watch every fifteen or twenty feet along the ledges of the higher spires and ledges. The ivy that had taken over the structure had previously obstructed my view, or I simply failed to notice them. They did not extend to lowest ledge of the house, however, leaving all main entrances to the home unguarded. I found the placement of the stone creatures both odd and relieving at the same time, alleviating my irrational fear of one falling on my head while entering the mansion.
Many of the windows on the third and fourth levels of the mansion as well as the towers remained intact but a bit decayed, but the lower levels had been replaced with perfect replicas already. The stain glass on the East wall on the second floor had been cleaned inside and out, plying me with faith in whoever had claimed the mansion. Anyone who cared enough to restore a piece of art to its original splendor deserved my immediate respect. I stepped carefully on the cobblestone path leading across the football field of a yard to the front door. Dread and guilt replaced my excitement with each step as I remembered the consequences of the event that took place against those huge wooden doors ten years ago; I shivered when I stepped onto the stone platform where I had lost my virginity and searched the ground for evidence of the affair, knowing there would be none. I convinced myself that the cold had caused the involuntary shudder, but in the back of my mind, I knew that it was the remembrance of the pain from that day, the thought of now knowing what colors that seemingly natural and simple event had unleashed beneath my skin that day and splashed on my invisible canvas, darkness. It was an odd sensation, fearing one's self.
I steeled myself against the memories and grasped the brass doorknocker, snapping it quickly three times against the lion's mouth upon which it rested. My eyes focused on the dull green that had smudged onto my black cotton gloves from the aged metal. I watched it disappear into nothing as I rubbed my middle and fore finger against my thumb and bade my racing thoughts to do the same, dissolve, become distant memories once more.
Muted taps upon the floor behind the doors alerted me to the presence of another. I took a step back and straightened my coat in anticipation of meeting the owner. I suspected the new owner to be an elderly woman in need of assistance with day to day activities, unable to manage the care of such a large house or simply to ward off the loneliness that came so often with old age. So, when a beautiful, blonde 30-something woman in stilettos opened the door, my jaw dropped slightly.
My eyes travelled from her shiny red high heels up her perfectly creased black business slacks and stopped to study the silver belt that hung loosely around her slim hips. The metal was rough and spotted, like it had been handcrafted. The top layer had a cross with four loopy knots tied together in the center and the bottom was a circle, perhaps a shield. A crisp white shirt, neatly tucked into the pants completed her outfit. She may have been the only woman I've ever seen who could make a white dress shirt look flattering. I pulled my gaze level, impressed that her mouth was even with my eyes, even without the heels, I believed she'd beat me by an inch or two. It was refreshing.
"Can I help you?" An incredibly echelon voice asked, sounding almost amused at my surprise.
I smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the low timbre of her voice. I quickly readjusted my eyes to hers and again had to ignore the brilliant blue I found there. Her pale skin was framed by thin blonde hair that slid over her breasts with each movement and ended at her waist. Some of it had been clipped in the back, and I imagined that her hair clip resembled the craftsmanship of her belt. I cleared my throat roughly and smiled again. She was the most gorgeous and elegant woman I'd ever seen.
"Yes, I'm here about the ad in the paper," I nearly tripped over the words, thrown by how rough and dirty my voice sounded following the silky tones of the ethereal woman. Perhaps I should quit smoking.
"Ah, excellent!" She stepped aside and swept her arm across the threshold of the house as invitation.
I kicked the toes of my shoes against the stone and took a deep breath; I'd fantasized about entering this house for ten years. Now that the moment had come, I found my movements slow, not wanting the fantasy to be shattered by a disappointing reality. I really need not have worried. The woman's presence faded to a dull buzz as I spun in the middle of a grand room made of Red Oak with ceilings that must have been thirty feet high. A gigantic fire place with shiny green tiles from hearth to mantle stood stalwart directly across from the front doors. Intricate carvings subtly framed the mantle that had three faces carved into the center, six eyes standing guard. Two small pillars stood at either corner of the mantle for support, the same gentle lacey designs weaving around the poles, tiny replicas of the four giant pillars that stood beneath the second floor balcony. Tinier still, the spindles that ran around the banister of the staircase and the balcony showed the same workmanship on the wood. Nothing, not even the large stack of old windows, maybe thirty, and several pieces of furniture covered in dusty white sheets that occupied nearly half of the room could spoil the grandeur and elegance of this room. I immediately felt at home.
The hair at the nape of my neck rose with an electric charge and I glanced at the elegant woman. My cheeks burned immediately and my heart gave a wild little thump when I realized that the mystery woman had been studying me throughout the entire examination of the main hall of the mansion with those knowing blue eyes.
"It's more beautiful than I imagined." My voice constricted with odd emotions caused by knowing her eyes were upon me in such an unguarded moment, and I swallowed roughly.
"It is magnificent, isn't it?" She allowed her eyes a brief glance around the enormous room before returning them to mine. A small grin matched the light in her eyes as she extended her hand towards me, not even slightly frazzled by my reaction to her curious attention.
I pulled my gloves off and shoved them into the pockets of my coat as I took two steps forward to complete the polite gesture. The softness and warmth of her hand caught me off guard, and I forced myself to remain rooted to my spot instead of listening to the instructions of my instincts that urged me to backpedal from her energy and pull my hand away from her warmth.
"I'm Lauren Danes. It's really nice to meet you." My throat tightened around my words and I cleared it, pulling my hand from hers under the guise of covering my mouth. This woman could probably make Barb nervous.
"Luci Pravitas. The feeling is mutual." She nodded her head graciously towards me, and guilt pulled at my chest for my wariness.
"I had begun to wonder if anyone at all would even answer my ad after the newspaper editor refused to run it for a full two weeks before I convinced him otherwise." Luci continued calmly, seemingly unaware of my internal struggle, even as the frustration flared in her eyes over the obstacle. The woman's voice slid across my body and warmed my belly like smooth liquor, and I could not stifle the shiver and goose bumps upon my arms that followed.
"Oh yeah, Mr. Arbogast is sort of a tool anyway, but I think it had more to do with the house than with you. If that helps at all." I prattled absently as I unzipped my coat and slipped it from my shoulders, suddenly too warm in her presence.
I jerked when Luci's hands were suddenly upon the garment, pulling it free from my hands. She turned away and clicked to the coat rack near the door and gingerly placed my coat over a hook. I couldn't help but notice how out of place the shabby, too-thin coat appeared next to the splendor of the mansion's décor, not mentioning Luci herself. The woman truly complimented the elegance of the house brilliantly.
"Why should my home deny me a basic public service?" She asked when she'd turned back to face me. The slight accent that accompanied the question caught me off guard, and I found myself awestruck and floundering for words once more.
"Uh, people in Carver like to pretend that this place doesn't exist. Don't ask me why because I have been trying to puzzle that together for years." I rushed my answer and hoped that Luci would not be t
erribly offended by my association with such ignorant people. My sudden desire for her approval shocked me, and a muscle jerked in my neck at the uncomfortable feeling.
"Indeed. Perhaps my presence shall alter their opinions." Luci commented hopefully, the accent erased again from her silky voice. "Shall we? I've just prepared some water for tea if you would like a cup." She gestured towards an open door at the far right of the room graciously.
"Sure." I followed the click of her heels and the gentle rustle of her crisp white shirt willingly. Even if the house had been a disappointment, Luci certainly would not have been in any scenario.
The study, like everything else in the house, was spacious with high hatched ceilings that reminded me of gigantic wooden tic-tac-toe boards. The room had been constructed with Red Oak planks that glowed in the flickering light of the fireplace. A faded mural covered the wall to the right, parallel to the massive fireplace, a wilderness scene with a waterfall as the focal point. Two large-backed chairs and round center table made of dark wood, Walnut maybe, sat in the middle of the room atop an Oriental area rug. At the far wall sat a large wooden huge desk which spanned at least half of the room and offered a perfect angle for natural lighting from the three 10 foot tall windows which served as the far wall. Stacks of folders and binders were neatly organized atop the large desk, further evidence that Luci was still settling into her new abode.
"Please," Luci gestured towards the chairs and waited for me to sit before gracefully lowering herself into the other that faced the door.
A simple white porcelain teapot with four cups and saucers and a cup of creamer sat on a silver tray on the middle of the table. Luci poured two cups and gingerly took a sip from one, wincing slightly. "Still a bit warm, I'm afraid."
"That's okay." I smiled and leaned into the puffy back cushion and fidgeted, unsure of what to do with my hands.
"So," Luci started as she returned her cup to the tray and readjusted herself in the chair. "What exactly brought you here today, Lauren?" Her words were simple, easily understood, but her tone suggested a deeper or alternative meaning that confused me. I tucked the uncomfortable feeling away for later examination and focused on Luci. Her crystal blue eyes bore into mine, peering past my fronts and straight into the quick of me. Rationally, I knew that she had no mystical abilities, no psychic powers, but her soulful and knowing eyes set my heart pounding anyway.
"I'm here to interview for the personal companion job, Ms. Pravitas," I answered, my voice unsure and shaky, making my response sound more like a question than a definitive statement. Everything that I had prepared to say during my hike to the mansion slipped from my mind the second I set foot inside its splendor.
"Please, call me Luci." She crossed one toned leg over the other and placed her elbows on the chair arms. Her long nimble fingers laced together a few inches from the round of her breasts, and I felt like a mouse being set upon by an agile cat suddenly. She looked so in control of her body as well as the situation, and the mood shift from her previous warmth unnerved me to my core.
"Of course, but surely there is a stronger purpose that urged you out into the cold at 9 in the morning for a two mile walk than to inquire about a job I am fairly certain you have no experience performing." Her voice, so calm, almost lulled my tension away about the demeanor switch I had just witnessed. "Are you currently employed?" She continued.
The lilt and sophistication of her words eased the tension in most of my body but not my gut, the indefinable vibe that triggered a person's flight or fight response. I pressed my hands against the smooth cool wood of the chair and hoped that Luci had only meant to appear more professional during her interview than she had upon introduction. I swallowed and licked my lips against the abrupt dryness of my mouth before I willed my eyes to return to the terrifying elegance that was Luci Pravitas. I almost flinched to find those knowing azure eyes upon me, studying me once again. She most definitely fell into the category of odd, but her observant nature intrigued me, made me wonder what conclusions she might be drawing about me. I had begun to wonder if I'd ever meet a person as curious as me about what makes a person tick, what tells they would show upon introduction that might show me if they were hiding secrets, if they could be trusted. Perhaps it was merely this place that made her seem so incredibly intense, so odd.
She waited patiently while I brought my thoughts back to the conversation. I shook my head, the physical manifestation of my mind clearing, and tried to smile. "I'm sorry. I think I'm still a little star struck by actually being in this house. What was your question?" I asked, hoping to redirect the interview to the warm banter we had exchange in the main hall.
"I inquired about the purpose behind your applying as my personal companion and asked if you were currently employed," Luci reiterated her earlier statement, no less intense than the first time. I tried briefly to figure out what exactly her voice reminded me of but I knew that the thought was merely a stalling technique that I'd honed over the years. I bit my lip.
"Yeah. I work at Barb's Diner in town." I'd never been self-conscious about my job before, but saying the word waitress felt wrong when surrounded by such elegant things, not mentioning its modish owner.
"Do you find yourself unsatisfied with your position there? What is your purpose for altering your career choice?" Her voice and choice of words made the mundane event of applying for a job sound urbane.
"I guess I just want a change." My answer was honest and simple, and I watched the gears begin to shift behind Luci's beautiful eyes.
"What sort of change would that be?" She leaned forward slightly and reached for her tea. I watched her pianist fingers slip around the porcelain in awe of her grace. What I didn't expect, however, were the bumpy white scar lines along the side of her wrist where the cuff of her long-sleeved shirt had slid upwards slightly.
My eyes slid up her long arm, and I wasn't surprised to see the muscle definition beneath the tight thin fabric. I followed that muscle line to her shoulder, disappointed that I could not view her neck behind the veil of blonde hair and confused about why I wanted to see it in the first place. When I met her eyes again, I wasn't surprised to find them intently reading my facial expressions and body language, an eyebrow raised in question. I glanced away, flustered that I'd noticed her body beneath her clothes and embarrassed that I'd stared at her scars, a part of herself with which she clearly had not made peace. Her expression warned me away from asking about them, and I felt a blush creep up my chest. I cleared my throat, figuring that answering her question would be the easiest resolution of the tension that had surrounded us.
"You know, meet new people, try something different, get out from under my father's roof for a bit." I couldn't help the contempt that slathered my voice when I spoke about my father. If he knew that I had come here instead of going to work, he would completely lose his head. I pictured him in my mind, puffy red eyes glaring above his scraggily and unkempt beard. He would call me "young lady" and spout some self righteous bullshit about clothing and feeding me and say I was "getting' above my raisin.'"
Luci obviously noticed the change in my vocal patterns, and she seemed to repeat my statement over and over in her head, carefully planning her next question. "Your relationship with your father is strained, then?" Her eyes told me that she already knew the answer, and I rubbed my burning chest.
"He's a hateful bast…man, and the only thing he's ever been good at is drinking." I offered with a shrug, hoping to close the subject quickly.
"And does he know that you've come here today?" She sipped at her tea as her voice soothed my anxiety again.
Silk. Her voice felt like silk gliding against a sensitive part of the body, the inner thigh perhaps. Blue silk. I squirmed with the thought and crossed my legs and straightened my back, trying to remove the image from my mind, but her smooth timbre echoed in my mind, eased it, and I relaxed into the sensations it left behind before I summoned a proper answer.
"No, and I don't want to see wha
t would happen if he found out, either." Damn that voice. I thought that I would burst to tell her anything if she continued to ask the questions in that deep, smooth tone. I braced for the next question, knowing it would be about my father and realizing that I would be rendered powerless by her grip on me. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but I knew that I had no other option until I figured out how to effectively counter her questions or change the subject.
"Have you spoken with him about your desire to change your life? Perhaps find a common ground upon which to… rest your differences?" She leaned forward again and refilled her cup, leaving it on the saucer to cool before resettling into the back cushion.
"Rest?" I repeated the word as if it might change it or at the very least discover Luci's hidden meaning.
A knot of anxiety clenched my stomach as I squirmed under her scrutinizing gaze. Her mouth said the word clearly, but her eyes told me that she meant something else entirely. They bore into me, saw through me, and I fought the urge to pull my knees to my chest, hide. I focused on my breathing, forcing deep slow breaths in and out of my lungs. My thoughts of hidden meanings and darker purposes were pushed from my mind as I realized how incredibly paranoid and ridiculous they sounded, even in my own mind. Luci watched yet again, waiting. It unnerved me, but as I met her gaze, I knew that I wasn't ready for this interview to be over. I could have walked out the door and never looked back, but I needed this, a true challenge. I needed to figure her out, or I'd spend an undetermined amount of time in the future wondering what lay hidden beneath her ethereal mystique.
