Clair and the Stone Statues II

Chapter II

To this day the memory of the evening party stands untouched in my mind. It was the beginning, of all that was to come, the opening act of my sad little story .

Our family manor, past its glory, always so very dreary and old, was dressed for the occasion. Cold stone walls adorned in rose budded ivy. The surrounding overgrown gardens were tended. Lanterns lined the way to the entrance, ready to be a lit a flame, ready to guide the parties guests.

As we approached from the forests edge, Josette and I, we were met with this most surprising site. Through the seven years of our existence, we had lived amongst the Henshire Estate for the entirety, and had yet to see it resorted to the glory of its past which we had so long heard of.

Workers swarmed the yard, hanging lights and trimming shrubs. Like bees at work they moved quickly, for the queen of the hive would not accept anything but the best. 

“Josette, Clair” we heard an exclamation as Maggie ran towards us breaking through the swarm of workers.” What have you done, oh you silly little missies we were worried, your mother and I, thought the night ghosts had taken you, is that river mud on your best coats, oh you beasties, your mother will want a word with, been worried sick bout the two of you,” grabbing our wrists hard she pulled us towards the house. Our feet dragged against the ground, expecting the worst, mother would not be pleased.

     Mamans hair streamed behind her, as she ran clumsily down the staircase meeting us at the bottom she exclaimed,

“Where have you been, mes amours” she kissed my cheeks hard

“Theys was in the river theys was, the little-“

“Maggie, please, allow the girls to explain,”

Josette stepped forward, eyes forward, “Maman it was my idea, I wanted to play by the river, Clair did not know, it was my fault,”

Maman looked from Josette to me she knelt down and placed her arms on my shoulders,

“Clair,” I would not meet her eyes, “Clair looks in my eyes, there now my love, is this true?” her thumbs rested on my collar bone, she pressed down firmly,

“I...” I looked to Josette; she nodded, “yes,” mother released her grip. Her eyes flickered as they sometimes did; they grew dark, like hollow moons. She looked at Josette, Josette stared back her head raised with gumption. Like mirrors of each other their eyes locked. Maman stood, and grabbing Josettes ear she led her away. And I, as any child consumed with guilt would do, burst into tears.

I continued my weeping as Maggie bathed me clean of the rivers mud,

“Stop your sniffling missy, whatever your sister gets she deserves, she’s a wild little thing, here now be a good girl, take the soap and wash your feet,”

 I did what was asked of me,

 “She could’ve killed the both of you,” Maggie continued then what would we do, what would I do?” her voice wavered, she sniffed back her tears, “there all clean,” I lifted myself out of the tub; Maggie wrapped me tight in warm clothes, then in her arms. Comfort abounded, she smelt of salt, and wet ground.

“To bed then,”

“What? The day has not even began,”

“You’ve already had quite a day, little missy, now to your bed,”

I marched with exaggerated steps to my bed.

“Don’t you go throwing a tantrum, miss, or ill have your mother up here.”

I lay in my bed pretending to sleep when I heard the door creek open.

“She’s sleeping my lady,”

“Nonsense, no little girl would sleep when the sun shines.”

I heard a giggle escape my Maman as I heard her walk towards the bed and plant a kiss on my ear. I sat up to look at her. Her hair was pinned up. Curly dark tendrils hung down framing her porcelain face. Her eyes a mix of grey and green shone against her violet gown. She was beautiful; her rosy scent filled the room as did her laughter. I watched as she danced around the room on her toes, lifting the trim of her skirt to ease her movement. She hurled open the Drapes. I watched in awe as the sun streamed into the room alighting angelically her every feature.

“Come now little one, dance with me,” she said in French. She held out her hands to me,

“I do not feel like dancing,” I answered my eyes fixed on the ground,

“What bothers you so?” she asked, she sat down beside me on the bed. Lifting my chin she forced my eyes to hers. When I did not answer she sighed and continued in her native tongue.

“How I admire you my love, you are sad for your sister are you not? Yes, I supposed. You are sad that she was punished? You have not a selfish bone in your body, my love. Listen to me when I tell you she was punished for good reason, she could have harmed you both, and for what? A silly game.”

“Do you love Josette, Maman,”

“Of course I do,”

“Do you love her as you love me?”

“No,” she answered plainly, I began to cry fresh tears fell where old ones had dried. ”Hush my love, you are both my daughters, and what mother does not love her children,”

She wiped at my tears,” but however similar you look to each other there is a difference in your souls, so stark it will shape all you are. You Clair will always be loved because you make it easy for others to love you. Josette will never see love as you have.”

“I don’t understand?” I whimpered, Maman pulled me into her arms and rested her chin a top my head and then spoke the words that I would remember always, 

“You will fight for all you have, and she will fight till she has nothing,”  

   I heard music and laughter beneath my bedroom floor. The party had begun. I was supposed to be a sleep. After my Maman had left, Maggie had again drawn the curtain and marched me to bed. I lay for hours staring up at the ceiling. I replayed in my mind again and again Maman’s words. My adolescent mind could not make sense of them. I knew that I was different then Josette. I knew she was brave and strong willed, while I was timid and always seemed to give way to tears. I still though could not understand and would not for many years.  

I heard Maggie’s periodic snores from across the room. 1, I counted, 2, 3 snore. I fire began to stir in me. A foreign feeling, one I only experienced on the rarest occasions, the deep and overwhelming desire to rebel.

1, 2, 3 snore

I warred with myself forcing my eyes closed, fall asleep and wait till morning, I told myself. But I couldn’t resist, after all Maggie was fast asleep.

It took less then a second to shoot myself upright, swing my feet over the side of the bed, and head to the door.

The door,

I had not thought it through, the creaky old door. It was at least ten years older then me and even the slightest gust of wind sent a creaking shudder through the room. I remember a thousand nightmares featuring that very door. If I tried to turn the knob it would surely wake Maggie in an instant.

I stood back, taking in the situation, searching for a solution.

I found none.

I sat back on my bed, distraught from my sudden defeat. Then I caught sight of it, my escape.

I bent down beside the tinny door. It was barley visible beneath the coat of dust which covered the walls. I quietly opened it, and peered inside, quickly drawing back in horror at its darkness. My body began to shiver with fear, but it was the only way to escape, the only way to reach her. I opened it again and mustering what little bravery I had, I began to crawl.

The darkness engulfed me; the scent of dust burned my nose and mouth. I yelped as I felt as something scurried across my hand. I moved quickly. I reached my hand out in front of me to feel for the end of the tunnel, where Josettes room was. I remember when we first discovered this place, it was just after we turned five and mother had given us separate rooms. I cried every night, all alone in the great dark room.

One night, when the moon was especially bright illuminated the ghoulish branches outside my window; I heard a creak form beside my bed. I froze in a terrible horror, what monster had crept into my bedroom. But when the monster giggled I felt a flood of relief. Josettes tiny head popped up beside my bed, and crawled in beside me.

“I found it Clair, the secret door; it connects me to you, always.” She whispered, “Whenever your scared just come and find me, I will always be on the other side.”

She continued to come through the secret door most nights to follow. I, however, as scared as I was could never, until the night of the party, enter through the secret door.

I reached the end just as the fear became too much. I knocked with panicked shaken hands until Josette opened the door. She looked shocked at first then her lips turned up into a smile of admiration.

“Sneaky Clair, Maman will not be pleased,” she laughed

“Maman will not know,” I said as she helped me up and brushed the dust from my night dress. It wasn’t till I stood that I discovered the harsh red marks in the shape of fingers across her cheeks.

“What happened?” I asked my voice upset

“Nothing,” she said bluntly,

After a moment of silence she smiled,

“What shall we do now that you, Princess Clair, have escaped from your capture, the terrible Witch?” Her tone was cheery but I caught it, in her eyes, sadness. I wanted to embrace her, wanted her to cry to me, tell me all that had happened. But instead I answered in an equally cheery voice,

“I think we shall hold a dance, in honor of my return,” after all it was better to pretend to be happy then to be sad, better to imagine then wallow in reality.

“Very well,” said Josette as she ran to the old wood toy box in the corner of her room, she pulled from it a purple frilled dress with lace and tool trim, one of mamas from when she was a child, and handed it to me. She chose for herself a tattered tie and exaggerated top hat.

“My dear beloved princess may I, the handsome count of Montague, have this dance,” she bowed

“You may,” I said in my most demure voice.

With that she grabbed my hands, and we began to dance and prance around the room, laughing hysterically all the while.

“Faster,” I screamed with laughter, and we began to spin and jump as fast as we could. Our tiny feet pounded against the floor, keeping pace with the music from the party beneath us. Running hand in hand back an fourth across her room, we danced until I could feel my heart beat in my ears and we collapsed, still laughing, to the ground. We laid like that for a while catching our breath.

“Clair?”

“Yes,”

“Let’s go watch the party,”

“What?”

“The party, I want to see it,”

“We can’t, Maman, if she sees us,”

“She wont, c’mon,” 

We picked a spot where we wouldn’t be seen. We watched from above. It was, at the time, the most brilliant party I had ever seen. Beautiful girls dressed in every colour floated around the room. Their Dainty hands held wine glasses, which they sipped at when no one was looking. They laughed and danced like perfect ladies. Handsome men at their arms, lead them around the room and dace floor. I searched the crowed for Maman; I spotted her amid a group of gentlemen. She wasn’t like the other ladies, who confined themselves to slight smiles and quick glances. She threw her head back in laughter at each word spoken. Moved through the crowd with a freedom no other women shared. I saw them look at her, the other women, with looks of envy. She didn’t see them or she didn’t care, either way she did as she wanted. She danced with every man in the room, flirted, lingered with every kiss to the cheek. As happy as she seemed, there was something heartbreaking in her actions. Something about them, that bothered me. Then I realized the women did not envy her they pitied her.

She was embarrassing herself. The whole room was tense, watching her. I wished I could pull her away from their eyes. Hide her away; I had never seen her like this, this side of her. I saw her grab for another drink as a waiter passed. A man stepped out and grabbed it from her, my father. She snarled something at him and as she grabbed for the drink he lost his grip and it shattered to the ground.

The whole room went silent.

Papa grasped a hold of her arm and led her angrily from the crowd, like a child.

I turned to Josette and discovered she shared my expression. We stared at each other for a while, then I reached for her hand, we clasped our tiny fingers together and watched as the guests returned to their conversations and dancing.

As if nothing had happened.