Chapter 4:
I groaned as I climbed the rickety stairs that led to the attic. It was an old one, it needed a lot of repair, and it creaked with every step. My rebelling muscles throbbed as I took another step on a loose floorboard. I just finished scrubbing the kitchen – floor, walls and ceiling like Vivian instructed me and my entire body was acutely sore. I massaged my aching arm as I climbed the last step.
The diminutive door of the attic stood before me, a thick layer of dust camouflaged it with the wall. A huge part of the paint had peeled off and the knob was covered with rust. I gently rested the bucket I carried on the floor to reach for it and opened it slowly. The rickety door creaked loudly as it scratched the floor that matched its dismal state. I was startled by another creak from the stairs. I turned and saw Courage climbing the stairs.
I cautiously took a peek through the door. More evidence of its abandonment met my gaze as I stooped slightly to prevent my head from hitting the web-abounded ceiling. The attic's walls were moth eaten and had only one, small, circular window. There was no moon that night and the candle I held was the sole source of light within the room. Its dim light shadowed several boxes of various sizes. Dust stuck to my bare feet as I stepped through the dirty floor of the attic. I allowed Courage in and closed the door as silently as I could, afraid of disturbing the silence that engulfed the room. I felt like I was trespassing as my fingers acquired dust as I glided them on one of the boxes.
I gently laid the bucket on the rotting wooden floor and wrung the rug in it to remove the excess water. Courage silently lay on a corner and watched me as I wordlessly scrub the thick layer of the dust and dirt that masked the surface of the wood.
The attic had an eerie air in it that made me feel like I was trespassing someone's secret haven, like as though it concealed deeps secrets from prying eyes.
Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong… Dong…
Twelve times…
I heard the ancient grandfather clock proclaim midnight from the living room to the entire household. Everything was hushed and in a deep slumber… everything, except for me. I've finally scrubbed the entire attic clean but a glance at the unopened boxes that sat around me told me that I was far from through. Even Courage got tired of waiting for me and was sleeping peacefully by his corner.
My environs were still and motionless except for Courage's rhythmic breathing and my occasional movements. Only half of my candle remained as it radiated an eerie glow. I yawned sleepily as I moved a big, heavy box to open it and started cleaning its contents,
Hours later, I've stacked the ancient boxes into a neat pile. They mostly contained frivolities - old toys, clothes, pictures, souvenirs and other discarded objects from the past. I sleepily stood up and softly called Courage. He opened one of his eyes droopily and groggily stood up. As he did, I noticed a small box that he had concealed while he slept. I stooped and took it in my hand while Courage resumed his slumber.
It was a minute box, and it fitted perfectly on my palm. Dust partially covered an intricate design that was skillfully carved on its polished surface. I rubbed the dust off and it revealed an elaborate picture of a beautiful creature, a winged lady, engraved on it. She gracefully sat on a shell that looked like a throne, encrusted with precious stones, as she fingered a string of pearls around her neck while she looked above the water, as if in deep thought. Seaweeds and corals surrounded her like flowers in a garden - an underwater garden, while the currents of the water gently swayed her hair.
I sat down and inspected the mysterious box closely. There were no signs of slits or breaks that can be separated to open it on its smooth surface. It appeared to be nothing but a square piece of wood with a beautiful picture etched on it. However, as I gently shook it closely to my ear, it appeared to be otherwise for there was a soft thud from within. What could be inside this box? Should I break this to obtain its contents?
I studied the box even more closely. There must be a crack here somewhere. After a few minutes of close examination, I still found nothing. I sighed and crossed my legs, making myself comfortable as my brain fought the temptation of giving up and sleeping. I lightly stroked the picture, feeling its intricate designs with my finger and heard a soft click. The box began to move and separated into two parts. The upper part slowly opened and revealed a beautiful necklace and a note…
For me.
I opened it and read the note that my mother addressed to me. It was a very brief one, only made up of three lines. She said that she wanted to give me the necklace that accompanied the letter. It once belonged to her and she told me to take care of the necklace. It ended with an "I love you".
I felt my eyes slightly mist, I dried them with my fingers.
With unsteady hands, I drew the necklace out of the box. It was the shape of a key and a drop of water merged together, with aquamarines and rubies on it. The edges were outlined with pearls and diamonds. Several other stones were encrusted to it and they all iridescently sparkled and twinkled like stars as they reflected the meager glow emitted by the almost used up candle that rested beside me.
After admiring its beauty, I placed it on and felt my mother's presence around me. I fiddled with it and felt its weight between my fingers; it was surprisingly light for something with so many stones on it. I stared at it and remembered my father telling me stories about my mother. How I missed them, why did they have to leave me?
I blew the candle and continued sitting on the attic with my thoughts. Soon, I slowly felt my eyes closing and I finally found myself unable to resist sleep any longer.
I groggily tried to sit up as I blinked several times. Icovered my eyes with my hands to protect them from the sunlight streaming into the room through the window beside me. I think I've made Courage my pillow the previous night. He didn't seem to mind though, for he continued sleeping. I had a terrible headache and my head immensely throbbedas I massaged it with my fingers to ease the pain. I realized that Trudy was having voice lessons as I heard her shrill voice ring through the thin walls of the attic. It didn't help with my headache.
I stood up and steadied myself, causing one of the loose floorboards to creak loudly, waking Courage up. He began stretching. I noticed my necklace and hid it beneath my shirt. If Vivian or Trudy sees it, I would never be able to lay my eyes on it ever again.
"Come on boy," I beckoned Courage as I picked up the remains of the candle and opened the attic's old door. Courage trotted out and I followed, closing the attic's door behind me.
The sun's cruel rays lashed vehemently on me as I lifted the ax to strike the log in front of me. It was a little past noon but the sun still remained to be at its fieriest. Normally, I usually stay inside the manor at this time of the day to help Greda with the chores, but my deadline for Vivian's punishment was fast approaching and the shed was only halfway full.
Sweat trickled down my eyebrows and to my cheek as I chopped another log. I wiped it off with the sleeves of my shirt. I really longed for a bath. I could feel my blond hair sticking behind my neck and I didn't even want to think about how I smelled. Courage sat a few meters away from me and appeared to be unaffected by the heat. He comfortably lay on the grass and looked like he was sunbathing.
I picked up the chunks of wood that I had chopped and bundled them together. I carried them and as I strode to the shed I heard a voice. It was the last thing I wanted or needed to hear.
I turned to see Prince James.
"Hello Little Claire," he said as he followed me to the shed, "What are you doing?"
"Go away," I snapped at him. "And don't call me little."
"What did I do this time?" he asked, his hands drawn back in a surrendering position.
"Just…just," I said as I heaped the chunks of with the rest of the pile, "leave me alone before you get me into more trouble." I got the ax to resume chopping.
"Look, I'm sorry," he said, standing beside me, "I really am. Why don't you let me help you to make up for it?"
"No," I said as I clumsily chopped the wood.
"Come on," he said, picking up another ax to help me, "I promise you won't regret it."
"I'm already regretting I acknowledged you existence," I muttered impatiently. He laughed.
"Oh," he said noticing Courage who was already beginning to doze off, "It's you dog." He left his ax and approached Courage. Rubbing Courage's chin he said, "Hey boy, do you remember me?" Courage, picking up his scent, barked excitedly. James turned to me and said, "What's his name?"
"It's none of your business," I said, annoyed.
"What's it with you and names?" he chuckled. I paused from my work and crossed my arms with a sigh I didn't bother to suppress. I was getting more and more annoyed. If Vivian finds out I had this conversation with the prince, I'll be in great trouble.
"All right," I said, "He's name is Courage, now please go before my stepmother, or worse, my stepsister sees you."
He ignored my request and picked up the ax instead and began chopping. He chopped pretty quickly, much quicker than I did. It would be nice if really would help me but he's the prince and princes don't chop firewood, besides I really wanted him to leave already.
"Look Your Highness," I said, "you may stop now." He ignored me. I grunted in a very unladylike manner. "Please stop," I told him.
"Did you think that just because I'm the prince," he said between the rhythmic thudding of the ax he was using, "I'm pampered to death? Of course not, I also learn how to do these chores. My father thought it was relevant for me to learn about my people's life in order to rule them properly in the future." He smiled. He was taught well.
"Besides," he continued, "where do you think did I get all these muscles from?" He flexed his arms to show off his muscles. His lean but muscular arm bulged and relaxed. Apparently he was short on teachings about humility.
"You are so arrogant," I said through seethed teeth.
He laughed. "I was just joking."
"Hmmmph… I am going to pretend you do not exist," I declared.
"Suit yourself," he said resuming his chopping, "but I'm hard to ignore."
"Oh I think I hear something," I said dramatically, "Courage did you say something? No? I thought so. It must only be the wind because we're all alone here."
He ignored my comment and began whistling. I ignored him. Moments later, after realizing that his efforts were in vain he began singing. At least it appeared to be what he was attempting. It sounded so horrible, like a symphony from frogs, ducks and crows.
"Geez…" I muttered.
His singing grew louder and louder, more and more revolting. Even Courage stood up and left. Obviously he couldn't stand the prince's singing either. It's a pity I couldn't cover my ears with my hands and chop at the same time. The prince, though,was oblivious to his awful singing.
"The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky…" he sang and sang and sang. I continued ignoring him. I refused to be defeated. I chopped the firewood as noisily as I could to cover up a worse form of noise.
A few hours later, the sun shone less fiercely and the shed was almost full. Despite the prince's unbelievably out of tune singing, he had been a great help. The prince, noticing that he wasn't breaking me down soon, started to sing even more loudly. I was amazed by the singing capacity of his vocal cords.
Soon he began to get frustrated and began to shout-sing the chorus part which sounded…
Scary.
I still ignored him. I could almost smell victory; he would surely leave in no time. However, a passerby threw a stone over the wall that circled Dwight Manor and I realized that if his voice continued crescending, Vivian or Trudy will surely hear him.
"All right Your Highness," I said, putting a stop to my highly torturous experience, "I get your point. That's enough."
He smiled victoriously.
This isn't over yet; I'll get back at you.
"I'll stop singing if you stop calling me Your Highness and Prince James," he said. "Call me James."
"Ok James," I said emphasizing his name, "but you must leave already. Thank you very much for your help."
"Nah," James said casually, "I promised you I'd help you."
"All right," I said exasperated, "You can help me finish if you promise to leave immediately after that."
"Ok," he said with a shrug. "I'll do that if you sing for me."
"No I won't and you can't make me either," I said stubbornly.
"I see trees of green, red roses too …," he began to sing again.
"Ok, stop. Stop," I said grimly. "Do you have any idea how awful you sing?"
He laughed and said, "Then I did a good job."
I resumed chopping; James spoke, breaking the short peace. "So…" he said.
"So what?" I retorted.
"Sing," he said imperatively.
"No," I said stubbornly. I didn't like singing to people. It makes me feel awkward.
He opened his mouth to sing but I interrupted him. "Okay, okay," I said, deciding to make an exception. "I'll sing for you, but only one song. One song, that's all. And you must promise me that you will leave as soon as we finish."
"Ok," he said.
"The sun will come out tomorrow," I began softly. I noticed that he stopped. He stared at me, his gold eyes filled with anticipation.
"What?" I said, pointingat the wood that lay in front of him,"Why did you stop? If you want me to sing you've got to chop." He laughed. I resumed singing; my melodious voicefilled the air. It melted with the gentle humming of the wind. When I finished he spoke.
"You have a nice voice," he said.
"Yeah?" I said. "My dad and I used to sing together," I narrated as I got transported back to memories, "we would climb trees and sing. They were good times." I sighed, snapping out of my daze. "Why am I telling you all these?"
He just shrugged and smiled. We spent the next minutes in silence. A short while later, we finished my task.
"Ok," I said, beginning to push him to the gate. "Time to go, thank you very much for your help." I knew I was being ungrateful, but I couldn't wait for him to leave.
He didn't budge. "Hey, hey, didn't I just help you? Shouldn't you show a little bit more gratitude? How about a glass of water, I'm really thirsty."
I considered for a moment and consented. After all, I did owe him for his help. But then again, he was the one who got me into this mess; he really ought to help me.
"Ok," I told him reluctantly, "I'll get you a glass of water. Wait here."
I turned my heels to go but he followed. I stopped and turned to him. "Stop. And. Wait. Here," I ordered him as authoritatively as I could but because I was being ordered around and not ordering people around most of the time, it wasn't very convincing.
He chortled. "I think I'll go with you."
"No," I said , "You promised me you'd go as soon as we finish."
"Those bunch of words?" he said mischievously, "I can't believe you were stupid enough to fall for it. You should have known better than to trust me"
"That's it," I said as I felt the last bit of patience in me evaporate, "Go, go." I tried to push him towards the exit.
"I want to go in," he said resisting my efforts effectively.
"How many times do I have to tell you that you can't come in because…" my voice trailed as I noticed Trudy approaching, "Because the kitchen is dirty," I finished as Trudy listened.
"What's going on here?" she asked in a sweet but phony voice.
"His majesty w-was… uh," I stammered, "He wants some water and insisted on going in because I think he wants to see you," I lied.
"Oh really?" she replied, obviously very pleased. Just as I expected.
"That's not true," James contradicted me.
"Oh come on Your Highness," I said. Uggh… he was ruining my cover, if Trudy finds out he helped me, I'll be dead by midnight. "Don't be shy now, the two of you look good together," I lied again. Trudy clung her possessive arm to his.
"Now, Claire," she turned to me, never releasing her grip. "Go get My Prince something to drink. How about some fresh orange juice?" she suggested as she whisked him away before he had a chance to reply.
Ahhh…. Revenge is soo sweet.
Greda and I were eating dinner when the bells for Trudy's room rang. I excused myself and stood up to see what Trudy wanted.
I went to her room and knocked. I entered after being given the permission. Trudy was doing needlepoint on a comfortable chair beside the fire. She smiled at me and stood up. She approached me and clung her arms to mine. I squirmed uncomfortably. Noticing my discomfort, she said, "Relax, I'm not going to punish you."
Relax? How could I relax? You're actually being kind to me. Knowing you, I'd know you're up to no good at all. How do you expect me to relax?
"Listen," she said giving me one of those fake smiles she uses when she wants Vivian to buy her something, "I need you to do me a favor."
What did I say? You really are up to no good.
"I'm listening," I said.
She pulled a strip of paper from her pocket and said as she handed it to me, "Here, I want you to ask James to fill out this form for me."
I took the slip of paper and unfolded it. I was shocked to see its contents. It went something like this:
Favorite food
Favorite color
Favorite book
Hobbies
Dream girl's hair color
Dream girl's eye color
Dream girl's skin color
Dream girl's height
Do you prefer intelligent girls to sporty ones?
Do you prefer thin girls to chubby ones?
It went on and on and on.
I looked at her, appalled. I slipped the paper back to her fingers and said, "No, this is crazy." What will the prince think of me?
"Do you want me to tell Mother about this? Think about the punishments she will give you," she said impatiently.
"No," I replied immovably, "I will do nothing of that sort. I will never ever, ever help you with that. Ever."
"If mother finds out about this, you'll only have yourself punished. You will also do what I told you. Besides, if you don't do it, I'll tell her to throw you and Greda out of this house," she threatened me andI thought about it.
"Face it, Claire," she said, noticing me hesitate, "You don't have a choice."
I didn't say anything. Trudy spoke impatiently, "I'll return the ugly pair of plastic earrings I took away from you, the one you begged me not to take because you claimed that it was your favorite."
I reconsidered. Asking James to fill up the slip of paper can't be that bad. I can avoid punishments and I can have my first pair of earrings back. This is so tempting... Should I accept Trudy's offer? Maybe I shouldn't.Maybe I better take it.
"O-okay," I consented after a few seconds of mulling over. I could always just forge it, she'll never know.
"Good girl," she smiled as she tried to pat my head but I resisted. I am not a dog!
Trudy frowned, displeased by my actions. "You may go," she said pointing to the door. I turned and left, not wanting to stay any longer.
I took another look at the paper. I can't believe I am this desperate.