+1+
When the door closed and locked behind me that afternoon, I wandered around the large house aimlessly, I never realized the way each room was intricately decorated and organized to the last detail. Each room was really like a piece of art work.
It was a beautiful place to live and as long as I stayed in it, I could pretend to be alive. No one could tell me otherwise.
The next day I settled into the upstairs bedroom and from
behind the balcony doors I watched
I was never going to leave the house again.
I wanted to become my own fairytale, the beautiful and fair maiden who trapped herself in her house, away from corruption and selfish deeds. On the top floor in the highest room, watching.
Waiting
What I was waiting for was beyond me, but still I waited.
+++
I soon observed a large truck pull up to the Fierro residence, piece by piece two classic pianos were taken into the house. I resisted the urge to run out and protest but kept my place behind the blinds.
Even more interesting a petite redheaded woman showed up the next day, I watched as Mr. Fierro greeted her and invited her in.
The redheaded girl came by the next day, each at the same time.
I quickly gathered this was the new maid.
One day when a thin layer of frost formed on the windows I decided to open the doors to the balcony, I took a hot cup of tea with me. The fresh air was cold bitter and welcoming. I knew no one else would dare venture outside today.
I pulled a blanket around my shoulders and watched as autumn turned to winter. After a few moments of watching and sipping I heard the sound of a door creaking.
The sliding doors on the balcony across from me slowly creaked open. Mr. Fierro stepped out with not so much as a coat and began to read the paper. Every now and then He looked over the paper at me.
I waited for him to speak but he never did. After a while he set the paper down and walked to the edge of his balcony, I was tempted to move closer but didn’t. I kept my eyes on the empty street below me.
It was getting colder and that no doubt meant holidays, by all accounts I should have preparing for married life. I couldn’t count the times my parents told how hard it was to find a decent man, and even after doing so I couldn’t even do the staying alive and get married part right.
From the corner of my eyes I could see Mr.Fierro was still standing there, watching me.
After a while the new maid came out and after a while and he went back inside. I did the same.
+2+
The temperature continued to drop, just before midnight when
Mr and Mrs. Oliver from down the street, Widow Mason from the around the corner and other residents of Litany Lane I didn’t recognize were outside setting up lanterns. Everyone was pouring water into the street.
Kayla and Emile were having a small water fight with a water hose while Ms. Ginger watched. Mr. Fierro was at her side. A light snow was began to fall.
“I think it’s ready”, Emile shouted, “Ready ?”
I saw Kayla nod and they sat down and fastened on pairs of ice skates. Emile clumsily stood up and they stepped onto the now frozen street with Kayla and they skated in small circles around each other.
Hesitantly Ms. Ginger stepped onto the frozen street with an arm securely around Mr. Fierro.
“I’m to old for this!”, she insisted while laughing.
“I have you, Mollie”, he assured her and led her onto the ice.
The sound of Kayla’s laughter made me smile, it made me think of my class. Of the kids I would never have, of the wife I would never be. It was thinking like that which had drove me into the house.
Kayla skated circles around Ms. Ginger as Emile came to her aid as well. I watched Mr. Fierro carefully, why wouldn’t he smile ? A wind blew and Mr. Fierro’s silk scarf was carried away by the wind and into my yard.
“Clara”, Emile shouted noticing me on the balcony, “Come down, we miss you. Clara ?”
I reached to close the window but I still wanted to hear the laughter.
Hurrying down the steps and toward the front door, I was just an arm’s length away but I stopped. I was very well capable of opening the door but I couldn’t. It would mean accepting that I had no choice but to be apart of what was on the other side of the door. That nothing was going to change.
I wanted a choice.
I stood at the door for an hour,untill the laughter died down and voices dissipated.
When it was quiet I pulled the curtains from the downstairs windows and saw the street was practically empty. I watched as Mr. Fierro skated along the street alone, lost in thought.
Closing the curtain I stood by the door untill the sun came up and washed the ice away.
+3+
I propped open the kitchen window and listened as Mrs.
Oliver told Ms. Ginger about a group of Art students who were visiting
Ms. Ginger bought them out some hot drinks and chatted with them for a while, I took little interest.
“Ms. DeLune?” I dropped the glass I was holding when I heard someone at the door. I walked out the kitchen and stood in the hall.
“Ms. DeLune ?”, Mr. Fierro repeated through the door, “Emile and Ms. Ginger insist I get you out of the house”
I double checked the locks and stood at the door.
“I have a key”, he said
“I never—“
I stood back as the door clicked open and he broke through the door chain.
“Should I start the fireplace or do you just want to throw accelerant on me ?”, I asked
“I overreacted”, he admitted. Looking around the house, “Even still Ms. DeLune I need you to come out the house. Emile seems to think I have driven you in here.”
“That’s not what I want to hear”, I said pacing around the halls, “I want to
know what I have ever done to you and about these rumors I've heard about”
“Will you at least come to see Ms. Ginger. You are aware she does not like to leave her house often--”
“I just want more time to myself.”
He looked at his watch; this excursion was clearly interrupting his schedule. I reached for the key in his hand but he took it back.
“If you must be this way, Ms. DeLune, then I will not leave this house until you do.”
“You tried to throw me into a fireplace”, I reminded him.
“Unnecessary precaution”, he rationalized, “Victor was very disappointed to see you had failed. Many of the Assemblymen seemed to consider my point of view. Once Emile fixes the damages you caused printing will start in the spring. Everyone will see that we can not let this inhumane process continue.”
“You can’t just stay here”, I ignored his monologue and contradiction.
“Actually, Ms. DeLune. I own this house. Your grandmother left it to you without my expressed permission. I did not think you would be any trouble, so I overlooked it...”
Leaving an unbaked pie in the kitchen I walked up the stairs as if I were going along with him and locked myself in the upstairs bedroom. I pushed a wardrobe in front of the door and looked out the window, waiting for him to leave.
When he didn’t, I picked a copy of Romeo and Juliet from the shelf and started to read, I threw that one aside and skimmed through Vanity Fair, Counte de Monte Cristo and The Secret Garden.
As night began to fall I could make out Mr. Fierro standing
on the porch watching as the painters packed their supplies. Sq
uinting one or two of them
looks familiar, but I can’t place it.
I decided to take a nap on the unused bed. I usually slept (if ever) downstairs. The silk sheets and soft duvet cover smelled like my grandmother. I had been spoiled being the baby of the family it was no wonder I couldn’t function on my own.
“Daddy”, I said as if he could hear me, “I miss you and Mom”
I grasped the sheets and let myself fall deeper into my fantasy. My family had lost one daughter but I’d lost all of them. I let out a stifled cry, it wasn’t like I had died I’d been killed.
It didn’t have to happen.
I folded myself under the covers and waited for my unhappy mood to past. The door knob began to turn but I ignored it.
“Go away”, I shouted
“Ms. DeLune you have to come out—“
“I said-“
“The house is on fire”
“What!”
The sheets twisted around my ankles as I fell out the bed, I approached the door and smelled smoke. I struggled to move the wardrobe, I threw the clothes and shoes out of it to make it lighter and finally managed to topple the giant piece of furniture over.
When the door opened, Mr. Fierro pulled me out of the room and went inside; he seemed to be looking for something
“Mr. Fierro—“
“Leave before it spreads.”
From the stairs I could see the roaring flames entering from the back destroying everything in their grasp. I watched mesmerized as the beauty of my grandmother’s house was destroyed.
I wanted to save something but didn’t know where to start, maybe one of the pictures on the wall ?
The fire filled the kitchen, parlor and living room. There was still a clear path to the door, I walked down two steps and considered staying. My skin felt unusually light next to the fire, like paper.
I walked down a few more steps, the door was closed. I could easily lock myself in, and in a matter of minutes I could be home again.
Real home.
I took another step, the smoke and exhaust filled my nose and I began coughing, still the idea that this could be a sign. The fire continued its relentless path and made it to the last step and pull
I smiled at the thought and reached to pull open the door.
Emile grabbed me from the entrance and dragged me away from
the burning house. Ms. Ginger and Kayla had evacuated their house and were standing in the street
“Where is, Fierro ?”, he asked setting me on the grass in Mr.Fierro’s yard
“Inside”, was all I could manage. Thick gray smoke began to pump out of every window, watching the fire escalate was surreal. It climbed and ate everything in it’s path. It was a little beautiful.
“Ms. Clara, Ms. Clara”, Kayla squirmed away from Ms. Ginger and gave me a hug.
“It’s okay”
We both toppled onto the grass as Emile went back toward my house.
“Emile” I called to him, “Emile don’t !”
He disappeared through the front door.
“There is a fire truck in the next town”, said Ms. Ginger, “They are on the way.”
I watched helplessly as the fire filled the windows. The Oliver’s had rushed over to help but I kept watching the door, fighting the urge to faint.
The fire lit up the sky, the entire neighborhood watched as the tragedy took place. Blazes consumed everything it touched, I knew once it hit the gas line. . .
“Emile !”, I yelled as if he could hear me.
Sirens began to get closer, when Emile and Mr. Fierro escaped from the burning house. They made it across the street just as Emile fell out of breath next to me.
“Are you ever going to stop being a good friend ?”, I rested his head in my lap.
“It must have been an accident”, said Mrs. Oliver
“You saw who did this ?”, I asked
A yellow fire truck swerved down the street, and set to work extinguishing the fire but there wasn’t much left to save. I imagined all the damage the water would cause.
“It looked like the painters”, Mrs. Oliver sounded unsure.
Ms. Ginger insisted we get inside Mr. Fierro’s house while the firefighter’s worked. I spotted Mr. Fierro leaning against his house coughing. He caught his breath and went to talk to the fire fighters.
I took one last glance as the house was extinguished
+++
The sun rose as it always did now over the ugly pile of burnt wood and ash that suddenly caused me pain just to look at it. I rested my head on the window sill and felt a strange calm at the destruction of the house. I had always fretted over how I’d take care of the 12 room house, now I didn’t have to worry.
That didn’t quite sit right with me either.
“Ms. DeLune?”
“Yes, Mr. Fierro”, I said not looking away from the window
“About your house--”
“I recognized the men, they were Victor’s security guards.
He did this. . . because of me.“
“No, I believe they were under the impression that your house was mine, because I had a key. I suppose he felt this was a just way to do away with me.”
“Maybe that’s proof you should leave well enough alone.” I said, “I’m homeless now.”
I knew Ms. Ginger had an extra room, but her house was crowded with so many collectibles and items, there was barely room for her and Kayla.
“You can stay here for another night", he offered, ". . . Then you’ll have to earn your keep or leave”
I turned away from him and his inability to be kind without reciprocity.
“Alright”, I said just to get him to go away.
“Two houses burning down in the same neighborhood would be suspicious, once Victor realizes his mistake, I am sure he will find a more civil way to deal with me.”
“Everything I had left was in that house, I should have
saved something. . . just one little something. No one has ever given me a gift like that house a place to just . . . be . "
Out of the corner of my eye I could still see he was
standing there. I pressed my hand against the glass to cover the scene before me and took it away quickly. As if that would somehow bring the house back.
“Why did you go back inside?” I asked. Then I remembered who I was talking to, “It’s not like you’ll tell me”
“Correct. Now then, the spare room upstairs is empty, you may rest in there for now”
I didn’t feel like moving but continued to watch the debris, occasionally some ash would blow in the wind. Carrying more of the house away.
“Come along, Ms. DeLune”
He took my hand and I carefully unfolded my legs from under me and followed him up the stairs.
“Tell me one thing”, I said as we reached the top and took his other hand, “Tell me one thing about you”
"I am very sorry about your house ?”
“That’s not really about you”
“I trust you can find your way”, he gestured towards the open bedroom door.
“Just one thing”, I tired again
He seemed to be considering this
“I was not born like this”
He headed down the stairs before I could ask what that meant. I turned from the spare room and touched a finger to the room I knew was Emile's and the room next to it was an additional sitting room. I walked down the hall to another door, this door was slightly ajar and I saw the room was empty except for the piano from the shop in the center.
I ran my hands through my hair and began to laugh quietly, it was mostly the irony of the situation. I closed the door to the room and continued laughing down the hallway
+++
“Where do you want to start ?”
Ms. Ginger seemed terrible out of place in her red peacoat and matching shoes, holding an empty apple crate. We both stood in the remains of 21 Litany Lane, The ash a had turned into a collection of dirt and mud around the entrance. I searched frantically for anything in the remains
It was apparent the only clothes I had left were the ones on my back, a few chipped tea cups and burned pillows had survived. Even the lemon trees didn’t escape the fire, all that was left were their ceramic pots.
Even my little yellow bike had been destroyed by the fire
“I-I don’t really see anything”, I told her, “And everything is all wet”
Ms. Ginger set the crate down and put an arm around me.
“It’s okay dear, you know me I have plenty of things you can have.”
“Thank you”, I returned her hug, “I’m just glad it didn’t catch on to your home.”
She smiled at my words and together we continued to sift through the remains.
+4+
The grandfather clock ticked away, I sat and watched it. It was strange being inside the house and not working. I let out another loud sigh.
“Ms. DeLune, come this way”, Mr. Fierro came down the stairs
his usual stoic self and gestured for me to follow him into the piano room.
“You want me to play for you ?”, I asked sitting on the bench.
“I want to know if you are any good, if you want to be my pianist . . . that is if you want to stay here”
“For now.”, I added
He stepped out the room while I tuned the piano, and came back with a polished wood hourglass filled with clean white sand.
“You may stop playing only when the sand runs out. If you can not do that then I doubt you are the type of pianist I want around. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir”, I said mentally kicking myself for falling back into my routine
He turned over the hourglass and as the sand began to trickle down I set my fingers to work on the keys. It had been so long since I'd played but it all came back to me. I missed a few notes at first but he didn’t notice.
I suspected there was an hour's worth of sand in the hourglass and I had played longer than that before. I played 2 slow songs first, both Beethoven and shifted into some quicker self-composed pieces.
I kept an eye on the sand, until there was only about a few grains of sand left.
Then he turned it over
“Keep playing”, he reminded me
I shrugged it off and played through my death, I played through the car accident, I played through losing my marriage, I played through the house burning, I played right through everything that I didn’t want to deal with. I looked back at the hourglass to see it had been turned again.
“How many times are you planning on doing that ?”
He didn't answer
I gritted my teeth and kept on playing.