Queen in a Castle

The pink rabbit came again that night. Aithley hadn’t noticed when it had appeared and, like the night before, it stood under the window, watching her, as if it was telling her to follow it outside. It was another uneasy night for the twelve year-old and it was more than just the pink fur ball that kept her up. After the restaurant, her uncle had told her what the detective had said about Alba’s brother-in-law and she couldn’t get it out of her head. She had met Iselle and been disconcerted by her strange behavior and looks. Now she wondered about this unknown and unseen Dax Pengelly and what kind of man he was that Iselle would marry him. Was he tall or short? Handsome, ugly or just an average face that blended into a crowd? Fat or skinny? Muscular, or average build? What did a criminal look like anyway?

Morning came in a fitful doze and the pink fur ball was gone, not that she’d paid it any heed. She was too tired to go down for breakfast. Everything around her seemed to be surrounded in a haze. She remembered vaguely people entering her room, saying things, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t pay attention. It wasn’t until late afternoon that Aithley could get out of bed, head clear and energy high. She’d woken up from a dream she couldn’t remember very well but somehow, it had given her an idea. Unfortunately, that idea wouldn’t be able to come to fruition until school the next day which left Aithley with plenty of time to come up with a plan. The first thing she did was find the piece of paper Iselle had given her and make a phone call.

“Hello?”

It was a man’s voice who answered. Aithley didn’t say anything at first, taken aback by this unexpected outcome.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

The man’s voice prodded her back to her senses. “Um, hello. I was calling for Iselle? Is she there?”

“Sure, hold on.”

As Aithley waited, she wondered whether that had been Dax Pengelly who had answered.

“Hello? Iselle speaking.”

“Um, hello Iselle. I don’t know if you remember me but this is Aithley. We met at-”

“Of course I remember you! Hello, Aithley. Oh, I’m so glad you called, I was wondering if you would.” Iselle actually sounded glad.

“Um, I was wondering if it was okay to come over to your house tomorrow after school, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh no, it’s quite alright. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Sure.”

As she shut off her phone, Aithley wondered whether Dax Pengelly would be there as well. Should she have asked? Should she even go? If what that detective had said was true (and Aithley felt her anger stir when she thought of him), then not only was he a very dangerous man, he could also be behind Alba’s disappearance. The thought didn’t scare her as much as it should have.

The next day, Aithley took the subway to get to Iselle Pengelly’s house. She lived in a nice neighborhood, much like Aithley’s neighborhood, though it was more a place where middle-class working people lived. It was the kind of place in which parents were eager to raise their kids: quiet, normal, pleasant. Not the kind of place she’d imagine a dangerous criminal to live in, but maybe that was just camouflage? Aithley knew nothing about any of this.

Iselle’s home was a beautiful old style house. A low stone wall boxed it all in, and the gates were open so Aithley went inside. The front lawn was expansive. In fact, it was more like the grounds of an estate manor with rolling green lawns that seemed to stretch on. Aithley stared at it with a gaping mouth, impressed not with the grandeur of the place, but with what it offered. All of this would have made a perfect backdrop for her movies (her mind was already whirring with ideas and scenes), and Aithley already had her camcorder out, taking a video of everything, including the house. She remembered something Alba had said once about her sister’s place, but she hadn’t taken it seriously.

“This would just be perfect for one of my movies,” she said excitedly, before belatedly remembering why she was here. Feeling somewhat ashamed, Aithley returned her camcorder back in her backpack and began the long trek to the house, though really it was only about five minutes. There were two trees on either side of the house, like sentinels watching over it, and the grass was freshly mowed as the smell in the air could testify to. The closer she got to the house, the harder her heart beat. She regretted not bringing Fane into this but she’d thought his presence would somehow be distracting.

Aithley went up the steps onto the porch but before she could even raise a hand to press the doorbell, the door flung open and there was Iselle. “Hello Aithley,” she greeted her cordially, and once again the little girl felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Hello,” Aithley said uneasily. They stood staring at each other for a moment.

“Come in.” Iselle moved aside and Aithley went inside. The hallway was long and elegant, pictures on the walls lined up neatly. She spotted a photo of Iselle and a man together. It had to be Dax Pengelly. He was young and handsome with thick brown hair swept to the side. He had an arm around Iselle and they were both laughing, looking so happy in the photo. Not in the slightest what Aithley would have expected of a dangerous criminal.

“That’s my husband. Dax,” Iselle said noticing her staring. “He’s at work right now.”

Aithley followed her into the kitchen, which was large and airy. The walls were painted a golden saffron and with the sun shining in from the large window at the kitchen sink, it considerably brightened the place up. There was such a nice, homey feel tot everything that Aithley felt at ease.

“So what does your husband do?” Aithley asked curiously, as she sat down tentatively at the kitchen island.

Iselle had her back to her, taking out a pitcher of ice-tea and two tall glasses. “Oh, business stuff.”

“What kind of business?” Aithley asked, carefully looking at Iselle’s face.

Iselle paused, looked at Aithley curiously. “I don’t know. I never bothered to really ask.” She poured the ice-tea into the glasses and gave one to Aithley. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, just curious.” Aithley grabbed the glass and took a drink. Glancing around, Aithley couldn’t get over how cozy the place was, and it was only the kitchen. She didn’t know why but somehow Aithley had assumed that Iselle’s home would have been more…formal. Neutral. Cold.

“You like my kitchen?” Iselle said amusedly, watching her staring. “I had it redone a few weeks ago.”

“It’s very nice,” Aithley told her. “Did Alba come here a lot?”

“Yes. She even had her own room when she stayed overnight.” Iselle told her. “If you’re wondering, I haven’t heard any more news from the police.”

Aithley took another drink from the glass, mustering up the courage for her next question. “Have the police ever told you what they think might have happened? To Alba I mean? What do they think happened to her?”

That wasn’t the question Aithley had wanted to ask, but it turned out she didn’t have the courage to ask outright about Dax Pengelly, and she didn’t know why. She’d never been one to tiptoe around awkward questions before but this was different somehow. Maybe it was Iselle who made it different.

“Not in so many words.” Iselle brushed a long, slender finger against the pitcher perspiring with water, and began to draw aimlessly on the counter. “They think she either might have been snatched right off the street, which apparently happens quite a bit, or that she ran away. But I know Alba. I raised her in a way, like my own daughter. She would never have left without letting me know.”

Iselle’s eyes flickered over to Aithley, whose face was set in a frown. She smiled wanly. “I suppose you think I must be coldblooded or something, speaking as if were talking about the weather or something trivial.”

Aithley couldn’t say anything to that so she kept silent.

“You see, I’m eight months pregnant with twins and the stress wouldn’t help. I’ve had some problems in the past health-wise. I was pregnant before but suffered a miscarriage. Two, actually. So you see, I have to keep myself calm, otherwise I could risk premature labor.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Aithley stuttered. “I heard you were having twins.”

Iselle smiled. “Girls. I already have their names picked out. Nomi and Mina. What do you think?”

“They sound like really nice names,” Aithley said politely.

The silence was awkward, at least for Aithley. She drank down the last of her drink.

“But still, do you wonder what happened to Alba? Do you ever think about it?”

Iselle was quiet as she thought about it. “I honestly could’t say. Hey, do you want to see the backyard? It’s got a beautiful garden and you’ll love the sunflowers.”

Without waiting for an answer, Iselle got up and opened a door that led outside. Aithley followed her outside and as she stood on the porch, her vision was filled with bright yellow and brown faces that stood taller than her. The sunflowers had been planted close to the house though as she went down the steps and took a closer look, she saw that they extended some ten feet down the lawn before they stopped. The only other place she had ever seen sunflowers were in Bryant Park but they weren’t as fruitful.

“Isn’t it beautiful? I have a gardener come in and he does such wonderful work.” Iselle gushed but Aithley wasn’t paying much attention. She went out past the sunflowers. She’d thought the front lawn was huge but the backyard was gigantic, and abundant with flowers and trees. Patio furniture was set around a clear space: a porch swing, a long rectangular table with an umbrella pole (closed) and chairs with cushions. There was even a stone bench underneath a weeping willow.

“What’s that?” Aithley asked as she zoomed in at something that had caught her interest. Habit had found Aithley’s camcorder in her hands without even consciously thinking about it. She pointed to what had caught her attention to Iselle, several large stones set in a irregular circle. Several flowers had recently been planted in them, red and yellow tulips as far as she could tell.

“Oh, that’s just decoration,” Iselle told her. “When we moved in, there were a bunch of those scattered everywhere. It was Dax’s idea to make them into decorations like these. Make them pretty instead of useless.” Iselle glanced curiously at Aithley, who was completely engrossed in her camcorder. “Do you like my backyard?”

“Definitely!” she said enthusiastically. ‘This would make a perfect backdrop. Especially that weeping willow in the middle of the night…” Aithley’s voice drifted away as a memory began to wriggle its way to her mind. It was something that had been stirred at her arrival and had now been jarred by the weeping willow and she now she remembered what it was Alba had told her about this place.

“Are you alright, Aithley?” Iselle asked and she realized that she had fallen silent, with Iselle staring at her strangely.

“Yeah. I was just thinking about this horror scene I wanted to film…I have a vivid imagination so I guess I scared myself a little.”

Iselle pouted. “The backyard is actually quite beautiful in the moonlight,” she said. “Not scary at all.”

Aithley checked the time on her phone. “I have to go,” she said.

“So soon?” Iselle said dismally. “I don’t have much visitors to the house, except for Dot, but she and her husband are away. Alba would usually come and visit but ever since…”

Aithley didn’t want to stay any longer than she had to, but even as she opened her mouth to protest, her mind had already come up with an idea. “I guess I could stay a little bit,” she said slowly. “Do you mind if you gave me a tour of your house? I’d like to record it too.”

Iselle’s eyes brightened and she clasped her hands together. “Are you thinking of making a movie of my house?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

“Ooh, this is so exciting. I love giving tours of my house.”

Iselle was true to her word. By the time Aithley finally managed to extricate herself, two hours had passed, though she had t admit, Iselle’s home truly as beautiful. She’d decorated every room in the house, deciding on the paint jobs, wallpaper, even the smallest fixture, and her husband had done everything she wanted. As Aithley rewound some parts of the video, she felt troubled. She’d seen a different side of Iselle that conflicted with her first impression of her. She’d seemed lonely, wistful. It seemed she spent most of her days at home with very little visitors, with the exception of Alba, who visited her sister everyday. She even had her own room at the house, though no matter how grand or expensive Iselle’s home was, it was still all so lonely.

But even as Aithley felt pity for her, she remembered that moment out in the backyard. As she sat in the compartment of the train, she took out her phone and searched through the massive files of video she’d downloaded on it. When she found the file she was looking for, Aithley plugged in her headphones and played the video she’d picked out. She had to fast forward it till she’d reached the last ten minutes. As she pressed play, Aithley remembered (vaguely) the day she’d taken this video. They’d been at the Howard-Berg Botanical Garden about five months ago, where Aithley had shot some scenes with Alba and Fane.

Alba’s face appeared on the screen, a wide smile across her face, sweat glistening on her forehead. It’d been warm that day and they’d been out in the Garden for almost three hours.

“Please tell me we’re done!” Fane groaned, wiping his brow with the back of his arm. The camera shifted to where he’d slung himself on a bench, looking beat.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it,” Aithley’s distracted voice said.

“This place is really beautiful, isn’t it Aithley?” Alba asked as she stared into the camera. Aithley made a noncommittal sound. Alba glanced around the garden, seeming impressed by the colorful flowers that surrounded them. “You know, my sister’s garden isn’t nearly as impressive or grand as this place, but it sure is beautiful too. You’d like it, Aithley.” She stared into the camera earnestly but a second later Aithley had zoomed in on the flowers behind her, taking scenic shots. Alba’s voice was still in the background however, and she continued, “They have a weeping willow. It’s so old and when its late at night it’s so creepy. It’s like a perfect place to bury a skeleton, wouldn’t you think?”

After that, Aithley had moved away, shooting more scenes of the plants and people. Aithley rewound it and watched the scene again. She wished she’d had the camera on Alba when she’d said the last part, to see the expression on her face when she’d spoken it. Was it just her yearning that made it seem as if Alba was saying something more behind those words? “It’s like a perfect place to bury a skeleton, wouldn’t you think?” Where had that come from? Had Alba seen something, or overheard something, that had put that image in her head? Again Dax Pengelly came to mind and now she had a face to put to the name, but it was the face of a smiling, carefree man, not the image of the monster she’d built him up to be. She wondered if that was the last face Alba had seen before she’d disappeared, before she’d been-

Thoughts, questions, and images haunted Aithley’s mind, right till she got home and received another scolding and more weeks added to her grounding, not that it meant much.