by Anya Allyn
“And lastly, but certainly not the leastly, we have Missouri,” said Jessamine. “She may seem too mature to be any fun, but she’ll whip you at chess so you’d best have your wits about. She mostly likes to read, sometimes draw—though she’s not as good as our Angeline of course. It might be churlish to mention that she can be a fibber at times, but it’s all in good fun and you just have ignore her pranks when they get bothersome.
Leastly wasn’t even a word, was it? She spoke in such a weird way. She actually viewed us as guests. I tried to imagine what my mother would say if she were here. Mom used the term ‘coping mechanism’ a lot. Perhaps this whole act was Jessamine’s coping mechanism. I couldn’t imagine the horror of being trapped down here for months—possibly years. I did want to find out who the other girls were—but it was impossible to ask them anything at this crazy tea party. I had strong suspicions about two of them. I repeated the names in my head—Jessamine, Philomena, Sophronia, Missouri. I knew none of the names were likely to be their real ones.
“Why aren’t you eating too, Jessamine?” Ethan glared at her pointedly.
“I’m the host,” replied Jessamine. “My priority tonight is to make sure all my friends and guests are comfortable. Now—enough of this flibberty-flabber. I haven’t introduced myself. Of course, you know my name already—Jessamine. I believe in patience as a virtue, and I do like to practice good manners. I’m partial to dancing and clever stories—and you must tell me about yourselves when you’ve had ample time to rest, perhaps in a day or two.”
I flinched when Jessamine said, tonight. It couldn’t be night already. It had still been early morning when we first found this place, and I estimated less than two hours had passed since. We hadn’t somehow lost time, surely?
Ethan’s expression darkened .
The girls ate every scrap of their dinner. It was hardly enough for a night’s meal, but I guessed they had to ration out the food Fiveash provided them.
After dinner, the two eldest girls cleaned up and Jessamine declared it was time for dancing in the ballroom. She insisted that Ethan and I dress for the dances, but Ethan refused her flatly. The girls changed into ballroom gowns that were frayed and dirty at the hems and sleeves.
Ethan and I wheeled Aisha back to the carousel. We tried every way to get the carousel moving, but it didn’t shift even an inch.
The one named Missouri ran to us in her stiff, pale pink gown. “Jessamine wants you all in the ballroom. Please come.”
“No,” Ethan bellowed. “I’ve had enough of this rubbish.”
Missouri lowered her eyelids. “I know. Trust me, I know. But if you don’t do as she wishes, it will only get worse. For all of us.”
“Missouri,” I demanded. “Who is she? What is this place? Who controls the dolls—Henry?”
“I can’t tell you any of that.”
“Please.” My voice cracked. “We have a friend with us—Lacey. She’s missing here somewhere. We need to find her—do you know where—?”
She backed away. “Jessamine’s waiting.” Gathering up her skirt, she ran back to the corridor.
Ethan and I eyed each other.
“We should go, Ethan.”
Sighing heavily, he nodded. We wheeled Aisha down to what Jessamine and the girls called the ballroom—Ethan seating himself on the daybed next to Aisha, his hand over hers.
A fire had been lit in the hearth, red flames leaping. My fists clenched at the sight of the firewood in the now-opened basket—I’d missed seeing that before. Henry’s wood.
The Indian girl—Sophronia—put on a scratchy gramophone record, which played some classical music I didn’t recognize.
Jessamine clapped while the girls twirled about the room in some kind of waltz that didn’t require partners. Philomena seemed to enjoy it, sashaying in her lemon dress.
“It’s the Hotel California,” Ethan remarked.
“It’s the what?” I said.
“Never mind. Just some old song.”
Sophronia didn’t dance like the rest—she seemed to hop from one foot to the other in a lopsided way—almost hobbling.
Jessamine danced next. She moved around the dance floor expertly.
Philomena watched in awe.
“Goodness, I’m pooped,” cried Jessamine, flopping onto the floor. “Time for quiet reading!”
The girls obediently pulled books from the library and settled into the chairs to begin reading. Even little Philomena soon seemed to be absorbed in a thick book.
I excused myself, saying I was busting to go to the bathroom. I needed a chance to look for Lacey.
Jessamine scowled and told me I was uncouth—but she waved me away.
I hastened past the bed chamber, expecting the doll or clown to leap out at me—and dashed inside the bathroom.
Freezing air bouncing off tiles made the bathroom a refrigerator. At least the cold air made the smell tolerable. I suspected that if the room had been warm, you’d gag coming in here.
I inspected every wall, every floor tile—even pressing every tile—hoping for something to happen. Lacey had to have gone somewhere. Perhaps she’d leant against a secret door or fallen down a trapdoor. Many of the tiles here were cracked and chipped, and a few were loose, but there was nothing of interest. I put my ear to the floor—there seemed to be water rushing underneath—broken pipes maybe.
The showers had only one tap each. I turned one of them on—icy water spurted from the wide nozzle. There wasn’t any hot water in the bathroom at all. A chill went through my chest. The girls had to be bathing in this water.
Threadbare towels had been washed and wrung out—and hung over a dressing screen. A single mirror hung above a wooden dresser, with tiny light bulbs running along the top of it. Ethan and I had already checked the dresser, but I tried to see if the mirror could be removed. It was stuck fast to the wall.
My stomach hurt and I realized I did need to go to the toilet. I peered into the toilet bowl—it seemed to be just a long, wide piece of pipe—and I could hear the rushing water again. I used the toilet as quickly as I could. The odor from the toilet told me that there was no proper sanitation here.
The toilet paper on a holder nearby seemed the only modern thing in the whole bathroom. The paper was that thin, crackly stuff that some public bathrooms supplied.
I washed up and returned to the ballroom.
The girls read for what seemed an endless amount of time. Philomena tugged on the red-haired girl's sleeve with a book behind her back. Missouri pulled her onto her lap and began reading the book to her.
Jessamine instructed them it was time to lay down their books and commence playing board games. She played a game of chess with the Indian girl—Sophronia—but fell asleep halfway through.
The picture of the horse and child that Aisha had drawn entered my mind. On the ribbon had been a name. Philomena.
Ethan whispered to me that he was going to check the dark low-ceilinged passage—and told me to watch Aisha. I lowered my eyes in a yes—relieved I didn’t have to go back in there.
He returned less than ten minutes later, shaking his head. “Nothing there.”
Jessamine woke and continued her chess game with Sophronia—as though she’d only blinked rather than had a long nap.
Cups of steaming tea were brought around by Sophronia—on the cart we’d seen in the kitchen. The girls sipped their tea from the giant cups.
“It’s been a most pleasant day.” Jessamine straightened in her chair. “And wonderful to share our day with such unusual guests. But, the time has come that we must sleep and refresh ourselves for the coming day.”
I startled. They were all going to bed? I tried to calculate how long we’d been here. It had been early morning when we first found the place, and surely not more than five hours had passed since then? My watch refused to work, and it was still stuck on 7.12 am.
Jessamine eyed Ethan reservedly. “It wouldn’t be proper for a boy to retire to the same bedroom as the lad
ies. I trust you won’t mind dreadfully if you stay here in the ballroom?”
“I’m staying with Ethan,’ I said quickly. “And Aisha—Angeline—will sleep with us too. We’ll all sleep out here.”
“I’m afraid that won’t do. The toys won’t allow it either.”
“We have a friend we need to look out for—Lacey.”
“Is that a doll?”
“No. She’s a real-life human being. And she’s here—somewhere.”
Jessamine raised her eyebrows. “There is no one else here. Of that I am quite certain.”
“We’re not sleeping in there with that clown thing,” said Ethan in a harsh tone. “Get that straight. We’ll stay out here—I hope that won’t offend anyone.”
Jessamine sniffed, turning her face away. “It’s not the done thing—but very well. I’m too tired to debate. But I must have Angeline.”
He stood. “She stays with me. And her name is Aisha.”
“Boys are so insolent,” said Jessamine. “It’s a great shame you found your way here.”
“What is this place?” he railed. “Why are you all being kept here? Let us help you—we can all get the hell out!”
Missouri shook her head slightly at Ethan and me.
Jessamine folded her arms and walked about in a slow circle. “I don’t like your tone. Especially not in front of our younger people.”
The girls backed away, Missouri cradling Philomena under her arm.
Jessamine flung a hand in the air. “Silly me, you’re just guests and you can’t be expected to know how to conduct yourselves. I’ll honor your requests. You may stay in the ballroom tonight. Angeline may stay with you—she’s had a frightfully good sleep after all, and she may need to eat her dinner and such. But you mustn’t make a good deal of noise, for our girls must have their rest.”
Ethan bowed his head.
I sighed in relief that he didn’t challenge her again.
Missouri and Sophronia trailed Jessamine out of the room. Little Philomena curtsied to us before she left the room.
Ethan laid Aisha out on the daybed, and then pulled chairs over and tried to get comfortable in them. I was grateful not to have to sleep in the eerie bed chamber.
Silence fell, except for the maddening ticking of the grandfather clock—I hadn’t noticed the sound before. The time on the clock claimed to be after eight in the night.
Aisha murmured in her sleep but didn’t fully wake.
I took a book from the library. The book was dated 1874 and was full of recipes with ingredients like lambs' heads and chicken feet. I pushed the book back in and tried the blue one I’d seen Missouri reading to Philomena. It was a faded copy of Alice in Wonderland, with black and white illustrations inside. I hadn’t realized the book was that old. I looked at book after book—all seemed to be of the same vintage—with a few older ones from the beginnings of the 1800s.
Henry could make a small fortune selling these books—maybe even a lot more than a small fortune. So why did he leave them all here, and all the rest of the antique items? At the back of my mind I knew why—because he’s insane.
Ethan craned his head back. “What are you doing, Cass?”
“I was kind of hoping one of the girls might have drawn a map of this place and hidden it somewhere.”
A glint of hope entered Ethan’s eye—then died away. “If any of them know of another way out, why wouldn’t they escape?”
“Maybe they’re afraid. Jessamine seems to have become totally nuts. She might have been here the longest.”
Ethan nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps.” He pointed in the direction of the hall. “We need to find out how those toys were operated. Someone has to be watching everything that happens down here.”
I shuddered. “They could be listening to us now. But I don’t see cameras anywhere.”
“Hidden cameras could be very small. Hidden in the toys maybe.”
I stared back at the shelves of toys.
Ethan and I hastened to examine every toy. None of them seemed to carry anything resembling a lens.
Aisha moaned behind us. She half-rose, rubbing her forehead with one hand. Ethan rushed to her side. Her eyes grew large at the sight of him, her lower lip trembling.
“Aisha,” Ethan said. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
She grabbed his arm, and then stared up at me. “How?” she whispered. “How did you get here?”
I knelt next to her. “We found Henry’s secret doors.” I reached to squeeze her hand. “I can’t believe we’ve found you. I could never have imagined you here. This place makes no sense.”
“You’ve been asleep for hours,” said Ethan. “I’ve been out of my head with worry.”
Aisha swayed slightly, disoriented. “I woke on the carousel. Jessamine gave me tea. I didn’t know what had happened ….”
Ethan cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve got you now. I’m never letting go.”
“Are the police with you?” She stared past us, to the hallway.
Moving his head down into Aisha’s chest, Ethan shook his head.
“The police don’t know we’re here,” I told her. “No one does. But they soon will.”
A single tear slid from Aisha’s eye. “Not even Lacey?”
“Lacey knows,” I said. “But she’s down here too.”
Aisha bent her face down onto Ethan’s head. “If no one knows you’re here... then it’s hopeless.”
I pulled chocolate and muesli bars from my pocket. “Dinner,” I said.
Aisha smiled grimly and took the food. She ate everything, especially savoring the chocolate.
We told her about the rescue effort, and about how hard everyone had searched, and about how her family were doing—leaving out the part about Raif beating up Ethan. And I told her how much everyone at school had missed her.
“So, where’s Lacey?” Aisha asked me.
“I don’t know. The last time I saw her, she was here in this room. But then she just disappeared.”
Pain entered Aisha’s eyes. “Disappeared?”
“Yes. We looked everywhere. But can’t find her. Maybe there’s a hidden room you know about?”
Aisha shook her head sadly. “There is only one place here that is secret. You can't get to it without Jessamine. I haven't been there, but I sense it. It's a place of death.”
Panic hammered in my chest. “We looked everywhere we could.”
We sat in silence for a moment, with the grandfather clock marking time—only not the right time.
Ethan took her hands. “What happened... I mean, when you went missing in the forest?”
Aisha’s forehead tightened. “I don’t know. I only remember a hit to my head—and the next I knew I was being dragged along a long, long black tunnel. I thought... I thought I was dead. I was so... groggy. Then I was put on the carousel. And then I was here.”
“We walked that tunnel,” said Ethan darkly. “I’m going to kill Henry for dragging you down that.”
I couldn’t help but stare at Ethan. He knew Henry couldn’t have done that. He knew that Henry had a rock-solid alibi. Who else could have dragged Aisha down here? One of the girls? No, it couldn’t have been one of them. Aisha was a tall girl—and solid—at least, she was solid at the time she was brought here. A girl couldn’t have lifted her down into the cave and then dragged her all that way.
Lacey’s words about Ethan came back to me. A mental image of Ethan dragging Aisha down the tunnel cut through my head. If he’d done that—that would mean—No! It wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be. I shoved the image away.
“What does that man do down here?” Ethan demanded. “Has he hurt you?”
Confusion clouded Aisha’s eyes. “What man?”
“Henry.” He said the name through clenched teeth.
Aisha closed her eyes, resting her head against the cushion. “I’ve never seen him. I know he sends down supplies, but that’s all.”
“Tell us about here,” I asked he
r. “I don’t understand any of it.”
“All I know is that every day is the same. Every day we get up and do what Jessamine tells us to do. We drink the tea and we sleep a lot. And there is never enough to eat. I wish I knew more, but I don’t. It sends me insane trying to imagine... why we’re being kept down here.”
Her voice got raspy towards the end. I went to fetch a cup of water for her. Hesitantly, I stepped past the bed chamber—attempting to tell myself the clown and the Raggedy Ann were just toys. Thoughts stormed my head. Who was Jessamine to have the command to tell the girls what to do? And why did Ethan keep insisting Henry was directly responsible for Aisha’s disappearance? Was he hiding something—or someone—after all?
I returned to find Aisha and Ethan cuddling and muttering to each other. Ethan loved her—that’s all I knew. He’d given his all to find her, and I couldn’t allow myself to doubt him. I set the water down on a table near them and walked away to the library. Picking up a book about circus acts, I read in a corner by myself. The book contained step-by-step illustrations detailing how to safely move from trapeze swing to trapeze swing. The words and images began to smear together. I was tired—bone-tired—in every way.
15. ON A WHIM, ON A WISH
The echoing gongs of the clock crashed through the air.
I realized I’d been dreaming—of dolls and suffocating underground passages and growls and the bloodcurdling screams of an unseen owl.
I woke into a worse nightmare.
I was still here. Panic rose inside me. Why didn’t we pull back at the time we’d found the secret underground room below the shed? We could have had the police here yesterday morning. We had found Aisha—alive—but we hadn’t managed to save her. We were stuck now, just like her. And Lacey was gone.
Lacey. Had she been returned? Did she sleep in one of the beds right now? I had to look for her now, while everyone was asleep. The clock’s hands said midnight—the dead middle of the night.
I stood awkwardly, stiffly. Sleeping in the chair—big as it was—hadn’t been too comfortable for my back and neck. The heat of the fire had seeped away and a coldness ushered in.
