What could be stranger than a haunted mansion? Why, a haunted mansion during the day, of course, the juxtaposition of a blinding sun, the aqua blue sky, and the decayed Gothic architecture isn't something one can behold without a jarring double take. A haunted mansion ceases to be particularly scary in the daylight. The same can be said for its sole resident.
Being a ghost has had quite a bizarre effect on the bird, as ghosts are very nocturnal creatures in and of themselves, and so are owls. And yet today, on this particular day, Barnaby finds himself wide awake. He's… changed. His "life" had become so heavily impacted by Billie and her friends that what was once a whimsical joy masking a closeted despair has become a genuine, unfettered joy.
Barnaby loves his afterlife, and yet, there are parts of him locked away, deep within the recesses of his mind, like a cat, clawing at a door before an empty hallway, just waiting for someone to check the door and let it out. The thing about a trapped animal is that it inevitably becomes desperate, the strokes on the wood becoming deeper, the animal growing ever angry, and the force behind its attack becoming stronger as the door before it weakens. Barnaby faces the despair of such an animal within.
But never mind that for now. He is filled with glee, the silly bird comically donned in maid attire and humming to himself as he jolts around the room, chuckling, and talking to himself seems to not have a care in the world. The children look at him like he'd finally gone off his rocker. Billie, Lou, and Lily stand before a grand staircase with cleaning equipment: mops, buckets, brooms, window cleaners, cleaning alcohol, but not nearly enough of it, oddly.
"We gotta clean this whole mansion with just this?"
Lou holds the alcohol spray bottle up in the air, squinting at the half-filled container of clear liquid.
"I'm sure he has p-plenty of closets with more materials."
Lily struggles with a heavy bucket filled with warm water and cleaning solution, sweat flying off like bullets as she lifts it onto the cart with Lou's help.
"Thanks, Lou."
He blushes as the virtuous young man rubs the back of his head.
"Not a problem."
Billie summons them together.
"Right, so we'll probably be able to cover more room if we split up. So how about you two tackle the downstairs, since you got the cart, and I'll do the upstairs? I'll come get the cart when I need it."
Lou and Lily shrug.
"Works for me."
They both chime at the same time. Billie bounds up the stairs with seemingly endless energy, into the rooms, dusting everything off, stripping the extremely old bed sheets off the mattresses, and generally catching an eye on the little intricacies of Barnaby's long-forgotten and seemingly quite large family. She wonders how many living relatives, great nieces and nephews of the dead bird, grandchildren, and such are out there or if they have any idea that Barnaby still haunts these walls. Billie makes her way to one particular room, one that apparently belonged to a little girl. Curious, she flips her way through the dusty toy chest, a muggy smell slapping her face as she opens the chest, revealing ancient dust-covered dolls and toys that are very much a product of their era.
She tries to resist the urge to play with them and places them back, hoping nobody notices. Billie runs downstairs to her friends who have done their part. A large portion of the downstairs is now clean. Billie gains the bird's attention. He's so wrapped up in his dainty dusting duties that he neglects his three guests, not intentionally of course. Barnaby would never be so rude. Billie clears her throat in a very attention-grabbing and obvious manner. Barnaby looks to the girl and zips over. He holds out a mint in his black wing.
"Lozenge?"
She looks at him, then at the lozenge, then back at him with a stern, frozen expression. She takes the lozenge and shoves it in her mouth, talking with her mouth full.
"You brought us here to help you with spring cleaning? Well, we did what you asked us to."
He looks at her dumbly, somewhat confused, then he remembers.
"Oh, yes! Hoot! Now I remember!"
He conks his head in a eureka moment.
"That was just my excuse to get you three over here".
Lou drops his mop onto the floor, scowling in a deadpan manner. Lily looks to the floor in shame like she'd been had, and Billie just folds her arms in a disapproving manner.
"You know, you don't have to lie to us if you just want our company."
He freezes, mid-dusting with a genuinely surprised look, he turns to them, somewhat confused.
"Oh… silly me. What do I know about kids anyway?"
They just look at each other like he'd completely cracked. Barnaby then snaps everything clean. The dust, the mildew, the cobwebs (okay not the cobwebs; he finds the spiders too cute to get rid of), the grit and grime, everything becomes spotless, the kind of clean where everything sparkles, whether light is shining on it or not.
"There we go! Spring cleaning done!"
He chuckles as he tears the maid outfit off, revealing his usual pink attire underneath. The kids look utterly stupefied. Lou outright facepalms, and Lily's eye twitches. Billie shakes her head and ignores him as she turns to her friends.
"Hey guys! I found a chest full of toys up there!"
Lou kicks the cart away, sending it off who knows where in a fit of frustration, causing it to crash into a wall.
"What do we look like you, Billie, kids?"
Lily raises her finger.
"Lou, we are kids."
He flails his hands in the air.
"That's not the point!"
He startles Lily. Billie shrugs, turning around with a coy smile drawn across her face like a cat.
"Well then, I guess you'll just miss out on the antique collectibles."
Lou's eyes widen.
"Collectibles? Things for me to appraise? Well, why didn't you say so?!"
He tramples over Billie and steamrolls up the stairs as Lily and Billie follow, catching up. Billie scowls at him for his rudeness before leading them to the room. The kids go inside and Barnaby is none the wiser, preoccupied by a tiny spider that grabs his extremely short, rodent-like attention span. He watches with his goofy but innocent smile as the creature forms its intricate webbing.
"The artist weaves a lovely yarn for the humble spectator. Hoot!"
As he continues to invade the spider's privacy, the kids rifle through the little girl's bedroom. Lou handles a baby doll as delicately as he can, studying it, and examining the quality.
"Amazing craftsmanship, intricate detail in the paint, relatively kempt hair. Hmm, I know a guy that would pay a pretty penny for something like this."
Billie folds her arms, staring at Lou.
"Playing with dolls, Lou?"
He blushes with embarrassment.
"It's not playing!… It's collecting, and it's totally respectable."
Lily chuckles. She finds Lou's sensitivity to be his sweetest factor, despite how uncomfortable he is in admitting his taste.
"I got dolls like some of these at home."
Lily interjects. While those two discuss appraising dolls and other stuff Billie couldn't even pretend to have an interest in, she's raiding closets for other belongings. Within a large closet against the wall, she spots a small, pale dress, very old-fashioned and frilly, but she thinks it's pretty. Curious, she removes it from the hangar, slipping it over her horned head and long ears. She pulls them through the neck hole. She poses, twisting around and smiling.
"Hey guys, check this out. What do you think?"
They walk around her, examining it.
"Yeah. This is fairly old, and probably very expensive for the time. How does it feel?"
She twists at the waist in it, moving her arms, a slightly uncomfortable look on her face.
"It's a little small."
She leans in, antagonizing her friends with a mocking grin.
"It would probably fit one of you two better."
Lily says nothing, looking over to Lou. Lou seems quite offended though, pointing at Billie.
"You wouldn't catch me dead in that thing!…"
He folds his arms snobbishly as he turns his nose up to them.
"Besides, it's not my color."
Lily laughs. He seems to have caught on that she enjoys his embarrassment and somewhat relishes in it just to see her laugh. For all his faults, Lou is a good sport. Billie has a great idea. Her eyes light up.
"Let's go show Barnaby. He'll probably get a kick out of it."
They nod, giggling as they run toward the stairs. Their antics cause the spider to fall from his web and Barnaby to wince.
"Hey Barnaby, found this old dress."
Barnaby looks down at the goat in the silly dress. At first, he retains his usual enchanted smile, but then it slowly fades. He slowly becomes more curious as he lurches his body downward, almost animalistically as approaches Billie. He examines her, craning his neck almost like he doesn't recognize her. He inhales, breathing abnormally heavy as if gasping as his eyes swell. Billie looks quite alarmed. He's acting even stranger than usual.
"… Ashley?"
He speaks in a drawn-out and genuinely confused manner. Billie retorts with a raised brow.
"Ash—WHOA!"
In a burst of energy, Billie is swiped up into the air by the ghost bird in a fit of elation.
"Ashley! My sweet Ash! You're here!"
He spins the goat around in place, pulling her in tightly, smothering her with an onslaught of kisses. Billie is both alarmed and thoroughly confused by this behavior.
"My little Ash, I'll never, ever let you go again! I'm never letting you out of my sight, little missy!"
He paces frantically, a massive wave of ideas storming his head.
"Barnaby?"
He seems entranced, either ignoring or seemingly unable to hear her. His eyes are massive and filled with emotional joy as he contemplates all sorts of bonding activities with the girl.
"We'll go on picnics! We'll throw all the birthday parties I've missed, in a row! (How many is that?) Oh, it doesn't even matter; I'll throw extra ones in there! We'll go to sporting events, and have tea parties like we used to with that tiny table and all the tea cups and Little Miss Sally and Mister Stuffy and…"
He just goes on and on as Billie tries to free herself from his clutches like a cat trying to get away from an overly affectionate owner.
"Oh my goodness, it's been so long! We should go for a flight together, for old times sake!"
Billie's eyes widen.
"Flight?"
Barnaby zips through the air, up to the highest point in the mansion, the attic. The kids follow, trying their darnedest to keep up with the crazy bird. Barnaby moves to the round window at the end of the attic, past all these giant boxes and crates. He holds Billie like he's about to toss a football. She panics.
"Barnaby, stop!"
He pulls the girl inside, placing her on the floor. He wags his finger at her, scoldingly.
"Now, now, young lady, you will refer to me as Daddy, not Barnaby. I don't know where you learned such poor manners but in this house—"
Billie, who has finally had it with this absurdity, pulls the dress over her head and tosses it to the floor. She places her hoofs on her chest, desperately patting it and begging Barnaby to recognize her.
"Barnaby! It's me, Billie! Snap out of it!"
Barnaby looks to the floor at the dress. He stares, silent for an uncomfortably long time before slowly approaching it, picking the loose garment off the floor. He holds it in his hands, his expression slowly turning to one of deep sorrow as he clenches it. But then, he grips it, tighter and tighter, his hand trembling as he stares at the floor. Billie backs away, uncertain. A deep pit of fear wells in her gut as she chokes out his name.
"… Barnaby, are you okay?"
He says nothing. She approaches him cautiously, speaking as calmly as possible.
"Barnaby?"
He drops the dress to the floor.
"Leave…"
Billie starts hyperventilating, terrified.
"Barnaby, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!"
For the first time, ever, he raises his voice to them, his yellow and orange eyes piercing her with an intense glow.
"I said leave!"
His voice roars like thunder, shaking the entire mansion as the goats stumble and sprint down the stairs and out the front door, running for dear life. In a fit of pure, unbridled rage, Barnaby tears through his attic, lifting a massive crate and tossing it through the round, stained glass window to the ground below. Using his razor-sharp talons and beak, he tears through boxes of personal belongings, smashing nick nacks, anything he could get his claws on. He goes on a rampage through the mansion, tossing mattresses, slamming dressers to the floor, smashing mirrors and windows, screeching and releasing hideous primal owl noises as he reverts to his farthest feral ancestry.
He shreds curtains, smashes furniture, chairs, tables, you name it, unleashing a fury bottled up for centuries, a despair masked by a face of joy. The memories he had pushed far, far back into the deepest recesses of his conscience, a pain too heavy to bear, rises to the surface. He unleashes centuries of despair all at once. When Barnaby has finished obliterating his own property, he turns to the old tree in the yard. Perched atop it, he continues, with nothing else to destroy, he punishes himself. He tears at his ghostly feathers, tossing them to the ground as they regenerate in mere seconds.
"Stupid! I'm so stupid! I had one job, one damn job and it was to protect her! I couldn't even do that right! Why can't I do anything right?!"
Orange tears erupt from the bird, hitting the ground and running down the branches, forming a puddle at the trunk. He bawls his eyes out.
"All I had to do was protect you… my Ashley, my poor little Ash… I'm so sorry!"
He sobs uncontrollably into his hands for what feels like minutes on end, an unnaturally long build-up of time, all alone in his little tree. The kids have gone home. As they reach Goatshire once again, they go their separate ways without saying so much as a word to each other. They look to the sky and a storm is brewing. The kids run for their respective homes in the hope of beating the storm. Billie and her friends spend the next day at home as it does nothing but rain. Billie does little besides leave her room for supper and use the restroom. Aristotle notices her lack of enthusiasm and approaches her in her room as she leans on her arms at the window, playing with the pinwheel sticking out of her plant window box.
"Hey, uh, I noticed you've been quiet lately. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
She responds listlessly, mumbling without lifting her head from her arms.
"No. Not really."
He's able to sense that she's not being honest with him, but rather than poke her on the subject, he changes it, to one he believes is more optimistic and that will generate some interest from her. He declares with an attempted smile.
"I've found the location of another magical orb, located somewhere within the Lost City of Magic. I've narrowed it down to a theater, so whenever you're ready—"
She interrupts, still not caring.
"That's nice."
He faces away in shame. He sits down on the bed and tries to draw her attention.
"Okay, I know something's up. Why don't you sit down and tell me."
She turns around, half frustrated by his provocation and half targeted at herself.
She slumps over to the bed defeatedly and sits next to Aristotle. He pulls her in close to where her head lays on his shoulder. He smiles at her while she continues to maintain the disposition of an irritated cat. With his warmth and comfort, she finds the courage to confess.
"Barnaby is mad at me."
Aristotle tilts his head, curious as he inquires further.
"What for?"
She shrugs exaggeratedly out of frustration, becoming visibly almost angry.
"I don't know. Lou, Lily, and I were over at his house helping him with some chores. We did our part and did what was asked of us, so then he's off doing something else and we're wandering the house, right?"
He nods.
"I see."
She resumes.
"So we found a room that we assumed was a little girl's room. We're checking out her things, her toys. I throw on one of her dresses, you know, trying it on, just for fun, and we show Barnaby."
Aristotle's eyes grow somewhat wide and he shifts an inch on the bed as Billie expresses confusion toward the whole ordeal.
"So he goes completely off his rocker. He thinks I'm this 'Ashley', and thinks I can fly, it's like he doesn't recognize me but as soon as I take the dress off to show him it's me, he freaks out."
Billie breaks down in distress as she pulls Aristotle in for comfort.
"I don't know what I did wrong."
Aristotle reciprocates, explaining the situation the best he understands it.
"You know, when you came home the other day, I was commending Barnaby on how great he was with you kids when he revealed to me that he apparently used to have one of his own. The sadness in his eyes implied to me that it's a pretty touchy subject and he seemed pretty sensitive about it."
She looks up to him.
"I didn't know Barnaby had a kid."
He looks down at her, reassuringly.
"That's probably whose room you were in. Of course, it's not your fault. None of you kids could have known. He's a ghost, so there's no telling how that changes the way he feels."
She continues to look distressed. He stands up from the bed. He leans over her with a kind smile.
"If you want my advice, give him some time to cool off and think things through. Maybe tomorrow you can go over and apologize to him."
Billie looks to the floor. She seems uncertain.
"Barnaby seems like he really cares about you kids. If you approach him and apologize to him, I can't imagine him staying mad at you."
She smiles slightly, then nods.
"Okay. First thing tomorrow, I'll get Lou and Lily and we'll go up to his place and make amends."
Aristotle smiles, taking Billie in his arms.
"Atta girl. I'm so proud of you."
Billie becomes noticeably more responsive for the rest of the day but still comes across as having nervous butterflies in her stomach. She doesn't know how Barnaby will react, as even though she trusts him, their friendship is still fresh and fragile. She hopes to solidify or, at the very least, prevent it from shattering entirely. She approaches Lou and Lily at their respective homes the next day, finding herself surprised just how much the outburst was bothering them as well. Together, they make the journey once again to his abode, arriving in the early afternoon. Billie approaches the house and notices Barnaby as he merely slumps over the rotting tree, bereft of his usual boundless energy.
He droops and scowls limply over the branch, a face of pain frozen on him like he hasn't moved a muscle from that spot since they left. Black feathers litter the ground as the kids tread through them like a pile of leaves. He seems to be largely unaware or uncaring of their approach. Fortunately, at least it's not a reaction of hostility. He seems to have completely burnt himself out. The trio climbs the tree up to the sturdy branch he sits atop, his king neck drooping as his head lays on the ground with eyes filled with sorrow and pain. Billie speaks to him in a kind and compassionate tone.
"Hi, Barnaby."
He says nothing. He doesn't even react. She looks away in shame.
"I'm sorry about the dress and for making you think I was Ashley."
He flinches at the utterance of the name as if she had threatened to punish him. At the very least, she knows he can hear her.
"It was an accident. I would never intentionally deceive you like that. Please, Barnaby, talk to me."
Barnaby draws his neck back to regular length, the expression on his face unchanging. He speaks in a tone that has no force behind it like a balloon letting out the last of its air before it deflates entirely.
"I know… I apologize for my outburst the other day. I should be ashamed of myself for reacting the way I did. Hoot! I'd repressed those memories for so long, hidden behind this silly smile. I pretend to be happy when deep down at the core, I'm always miserable. Hoot!"
Billie sits there for a second, trying to come up with some sort of follow-up. Headstrong and determined, she tries to coax him out of his funk, but can't think of a thing to say. Lou intervenes.
"So… what was she like, Ashley, I mean."
He looks over at her several times like a shamed dog.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Barnaby removes himself from the tree. One could tell he has no spirit because he does so in the most normal way possible, by simply flying down. He sits before the tree in the shade as the others come down and rest on either side of him. Billie leans her head on him. Having been in the hot sun all day, Barnaby is warm to the touch from having absorbed so much sunlight into his black feathers. She peers up at him with her innocent aqua-blue eyes, almost guilting him. Lily sits in his lap and speaks up to him softly.
"M-maybe if you did it would help you feel better. I-I know locking things away doesn't help. Maybe you just need someone to listen to you."
He sniffs.
"My little Ashley was the kindest soul imaginable, as pure-hearted as any of you three. Oh, and she came from the cutest little egg. You would have loved her, I know it. Hoot! She loved tea parties and she had the wildest imagination. I think she got it from yours truly. Hoot! But she also had that same spark in her eye, that same desire for danger and adventure. I wanted to let that flourish within her. I wanted her to be happy."
Billie rests her head on his chest. She can feel nothing inside, no breathing, no heartbeat, but she knows it's there within the bird. She knows for a fact that Barnaby has the biggest heart of them all, but perhaps the lack of a beat means little more than the fact that it's broken.
"She sounds wonderful."
Barnaby smiles slightly but then shifts back to morose.
"It was her thrill for adventure that ultimately led her to her demise, for my daughter didn't simply die, she was taken from me by a horrible evil that should have never existed in this world. This monster was never found."
He leaks, orange tears pouring from his eyes like a river.
"I couldn't protect her. Hoot! It was my job to protect her! I was her daddy and I failed. From that day forward I had no hope. I didn't care about life, the little things, the things you showed me that I was missing out on. Hoot! I just wanted to be happy again, but I never confessed until now how I truly felt. I just put on a happy face for everyone else. I didn't want them to worry about me."
The kids say nothing. They simply wrap their little goat hooves around Barnaby. Billie speaks to him somberly as she leans into his warm, sun-baked chest.
"What can we do? What can we say other than… we're here for you."
He looks between them all. They smile up at him and a faint smile arises on his beak. He swathes them with his long, black wings as he caresses them close to him.
Billie confesses her own story to him as the others listen.
"When I lost my dad, I was the same way. I was angry, scared, and sad all the time. It was Mom that was there for me. She comforted me, telling me that Dad was never truly gone, but out there, somewhere beautiful, waiting for me, waiting for her, and probably waiting for Aristotle too. She didn't want me to think of him as dead, but smiling, waiting for me, waiting for the day when we'd all be happy again, when we all would see each other again. She told me it would be a long time, but we would all be together, forever and ever until the end of time, somewhere beautiful."
She looks up at Barnaby with a warm smile.
"I bet that's where Ashley is. She's where mom said dad would be, waiting for you."
Barnaby looks down at her curiously, craning his neck, the concept is unheard of to him.
"You really think so? Hoot!"
She nods.
"Yup."
He feels like a heel.
"I wish I could have been a better parent. I had one chance and I blew it. Hoot!"
Lily snuggles against his chest.
"H-having you around is kinda like having a t-third dad."
He lights up as Billie intercepts.
"Yeah. Same here, if I'm counting Aristotle as a dad."
Barnaby retorts.
"He's a sweet man with a kind heart. You should."
He turns to Lou.
"You're more like a wacky uncle to me, but still, I'd be hard-pressed to not consider you at least an off-branch of family."
Barnaby chuckles.
"Wacky uncle? Hoot! Hoot! I'll take it!"
He pulls them in even tighter like he never wants to let them go.
"I really do love you kids like my own."
He releases them and they stand. Barnaby zips before them.
"I would like to make an oath, to all of you. Hoot!"
Billie looks between her friends and back at him.
"An oath?"
He nods proudly.
"Yes. I swear to you, all three of you, that I will protect you for all of my afterlife, til the day you pass from natural causes. I will never allow what happened to my dear Ashley to happen to you three. Hoot!"
Barnaby stretches his long wing outward. With his other talon, he plucks three black feathers, distributing them to each of the children. He explains to them.
"These feathers are imbued with my ghostly magic. Hoot! Whenever you're in danger or feeling scared, sad, or alone, even if you just want someone to talk to, hold onto these feathers and think of me, and I'll be there. This is my gift to you. Hoot!"
They hold the black feathers to their heart before storing them. Simultaneously, they show their appreciation.
"Thank you."
As they embrace once more, a monster peers from the sideline, a malevolent figure with haunting red eyes. He remembers. They remember. The goat stands there with his hands in his jacket pocket, looking on with a sneer before turning around and leaping from the wall.