Flames in the wood-burning oven warmed the entire kitchen, keeping the inhabitants from lingering. The aroma of roasted thyme and rosemary made Sophie Mae’s stomach grumble. Maybe a roast beef sandwich is part of the fun.
Billy strutted toward the cabinet at the end and she followed close behind. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.” Billy opened the cabinet door. “After you.”
“You want me to go in there?”
“We’re both going. It’s like a magic trick.” His smile waned as Sophie Mae raised an eyebrow. “Ah, come on. You wanna have fun, don’t you?”
The dark cabinet had layers of cobwebs, making it questionable. Having just met Billy, she heeded the warnings of Myrt and Mary Louise, and started back to the delivery door. Billy rushed behind and grabbed her arm. “Nothing bad will happen to you, cross my heart.”
The sincerity in his suddenly puppy-like eyes convinced her to follow him into the tight space, where they both tucked their legs to fit. The sharp odor of wood stain and the boy’s foul armpits merged as the cabinet door shut. Sophie Mae stiffened her arms against the wall.
“Here we go,” Billy said. “How about that, a dumb girl in a dumb waiter?”
Sophie Mae's stomach tightened at the jerking and bouncing of the box as it rode upward through the inner tunnel where Billy’s evil laugh echoed.
A heave escaped her lips, and Billy pulled the cabinet to a full stop. He kicked the door open and jumped to the floor. “Do it over there, gross girl.” Emerging from the grimy cabinet into the fresh air settled her stomach.
The massive room, divided into two areas, had a bedroom on one side. A four-poster bed was draped in a baby-blue duvet, and sheer curtains of the same color edged the windows, projecting a soft tint to the rough stone floor.
A couch and two chairs, covered in the same fabric, made up the second area. Marble statues of cupids with bows and arrows lined the mantle. Lamps settled on every surface, and their warm light united the spaces.
A brick wall stretched to the ceiling and was the single best part of the room. Metal rods decorated with golden ivy connected large glass panels that made up the ceiling at least thirty feet tall.
“This is amazing,” she said.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet. Watch.” Billy scrunched his face and levitated off the ground.
“How are you doing that?”
“It’s easy, take my hand.” Sophie Mae bit her lip as he offered her his sticky palm. She shook her head. Billy grabbed her arm, and her boots felt like weights as she drifted from the floor.
“You can fly?”
“Sort of,” Billy frowned. “I can float. Flying’s a lot faster and more direct. This room is the best for floating because it feels like you’re outside. Mom won’t let me float outside because she says I might drift away, or something dumb like that.”
Sophie Mae swam through the air closer to the glass panels and imagined floating above the clouds where people below looked like tiny ants. Never had she felt so free and unburdened.
“Uh-oh,” Billy hooted and cheered as their bodies grew heavy and fell to the floor. Sophie Mae’s wavy hair flew straight upward as they dropped faster than they’d climbed. With her eyes covered, the last-second swoosh upward left her nauseous.
Sophie Mae snapped at Billy. “I thought you couldn’t fly?”
“I can turn the thing on and off, dumb girl.” Billy’s wicked eyes darted to the clicking door handle. “Hold on tight!”
Flipping his body downward, he shot to the floor and landed on his feet.
“Quick! Back here.” He dragged Sophie Mae behind a large dressing mirror, where they peeked from the edge.
Belting out a swing tune, Myrt danced into the room and plucked the wilting, blue roses from a vase on the end table, replacing them with fresh blooms. She picked up the decorative, silk pillows and danced with them around the couch before her peppy song stopped mid chorus. Myrt froze like a frightened deer. “Hello? Is someone there?”
Billy yanked Sophie Mae behind the mirror in the corner of the room. Myrt’s creaking shoes moved closer. Sophie Mae heaved. Billy slapped his hand over her mouth as the tips of Myrt’s shoes appeared along the bottom edge of the mirror.
“I know you’re there.” Myrt tapped the reflective surface. Her rosy fragrance swirled around the mirror as she looked over herself for several minutes. “Oh well. It was worth a shot. I hope my reflection returns soon. People might think I’m a vampire.”
She grabbed her basket and swayed out of the room to deliver the rest of the roses.
“That was close,” Billy said. “If she catches me in here, I'll be grounded for another week.”
Sophie Mae giggled at the silly pun.
“No one ever gets my joke. Let’s go. I have something even better than floating to show you.”
This was her first real day in the Gardenia House, and she’d met a talking elephant, several invisible people, and now a boy who defied the law of gravity. I can’t imagine what could be better than what I’ve already seen.
Billy tugged the ten-foot door and peeked into the hallway. Myrt’s singing voice screeched from the floor below. “It’s clear. Follow me.”
Padding to the second door on the level, Billy whispered, “Wait until you see what’s in here.”
He reached for the glass handle but stumbled backward.
“Billy, don’t you dare.” Dink materialized with crossed arms. “Mom wants you, so scat.”
“Why do you always ruin my fun? I’ll see you around, dumb girl.” Billy lifted into the air, landing feet first on the railing. Sliding through the curves and dips of the handrail, he hooted as he became invisible.
Dink turned from the stairs and gazed at the tiled floor. “I’m sorry about this morning.”
“I’m sorry, too. My grandma taught me not to pry, but sometimes it’s hard to tell when I’m doing it.”
“It’s just this whole invisible thing is hard for me. I didn’t even have a choice in taking the potion. Mom said if I didn’t take it, I might starve. Now I can’t eat a cookie or go to school. Worst of all, I have to keep my distance from my friends. That way, they won’t notice I’m different.”
“At least you live in a house that doesn’t leak when it rains, and you can disappear. Those are amazing gifts.”
“I guess.” Dink pointed to the door behind her. “It’s good I caught you before Billy took you inside. His brain is warped and scary. Never trust his imagination.”
“I won't…”
“I bet you have a good imagination? If you could do anything, what would it be? Fly to the moon? Ride a rollercoaster?”
Sophie Mae had long known the answer to such a question. “Swim in the ocean. The dust and dryness back home left me thirsty and with cracked skin. Diving into the ocean, I’d absorb water like a sponge and drink until I looked as round as a beach ball.”
Dink smiled. “I never thought about that. A day in the ocean sounds fun. We could collect starfish and swim with dolphins. Want to go right now?”
Sophie Mae studied her expression. “Sure…”
“Great.” Dink opened the door.
Standing in the hallway, Sophie Mae stared at the aquarium-like water behind the threshold of the door. She tapped the surface, finding there was no glass holding it back. She looked questioningly at Dink.
“It's real, well, mostly real,” Dink mused. “The room has a potion that recreates your memories or thoughts. Right now, it’s your thoughts. I’m ready for a swim, how about you?”
She nodded, still unsure about the idea.
Dink stepped into the doorway, and her entire body lifted off the dry ground. She thrust her arms forward, and her cupped hands pushed against the force of the water. After an impressive backward somersault, Dink waved for Sophie Mae to join.
Sophie Mae backed away a few steps from the room, and with a running start, dove in headfirst. Her left hand clamped her nose while the right guided her through the water. Bright orange and yellow coral grew on the boulders below, and seagrass swayed like wheat crops on a breezy day.
Exploring the beautiful sea life was no match for her urge to breathe. Her face grew pale, and she concentrated both hands on swimming. Bubbles of desperation fluttered from her lips, but instead of rising to the surface, she was sinking. Dink held her boot. Kicking and wriggling against her firm grip proved useless.
Dink pulled Sophie Mae to eye level. “Just breathe. It’s okay.”
Her distress muffled Dink’s voice, and she continued to struggle. Hitting a breaking point forced her to inhale. Sophie Mae stopped thrashing. Dink held her by the shoulders. “Just breathe. That’s good.”
Water pressed against her lips, but didn’t enter Sophie Mae’s mouth. Another nervous inhale, and she giggled softly.
“The room is fulfilling your imagination,” Dink explained. “Your imagination is part of you, and can’t hurt you. Look, even your clothes are dry.”
Dink was right. Her dress remained crisp as ever, even resisting the urge to float with the water.
A blue fish with spots passed Sophie Mae and appeared to wink. She turned to Dink. “Did you see that?”
“Sure did.”
Sophie Mae swam after the mysterious fish, drawing the attention of a striped zebra fish who noticed the grass stuck in the tread of her work boots. He chased after them, nibbling on the treat.
“What do you think?” Dink asked, swimming next to her.
“I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem possible.”
“Anything you can imagine happens in this room. Mom likes to be a judge at a dog show, and Billy likes to make mounds of worms he can jump into. Baby brothers are so gross.”
Sophie Mae closed her eyes and imagined the most fantastic event to happen underwater. Mermaids dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe. That would be a sight!
Waves stirred through the water like gusty winds along the plain and tribes of merpeople advanced from the darkest edges of the ocean. Thick beards and brawny lumberjack arms were common among the mermen. The mermaids’ upper bodies were camouflaged in coral-like scales mostly hidden by their long locks of hair.
Each tribe had a unique design on their powerful tail. Cave dwellers’ fins illuminated near the ends, while others had seaweed patterns, excellent for hiding along the sea bed.
Sophie Mae clapped as a large circle formed, and the merpeople partnered up. A younger mermaid with black, braided hair hovered in the middle cradling an iridescent flute. She bowed to Sophie Mae and Dink before lifting the instrument to her lips.
The repetitive southern song began and encouraged the pairs of merpeople to swim side to side, tapping their outside fin along the water. After two taps, they locked arms and spun in a circle before splitting and pairing off with the next merperson along the ring. The mermaids’ long locks bounced in the water as they took on a new partner every third eight-count of the music.
“I’ve never seen such a thing,” Dink said. “What’s this dance?”
“It’s the Cotton-Eyed Joe. We learned the dance every year in school.”
A merman with bright green eyes waved them over and opened a space for the pair. They slid in and twirled with the merpeople, shouting out some strong yee-haws. Once the original couples reunited, the song ended with a flourish fitting of such a fine dance.
The merpeople cupped their mouths and sent vibrations of goodwill to all the sea life dancing along the outside of the circle. They hugged their distant relations, discussing new births and the rising tides.
A whimsical rift drifted from the flute, and the merpeople waved their goodbyes, returning to their caves and lairs. The musical mermaid bowed to Sophie Mae. “Please return soon.”
Sophie Mae closed her eyes and imagined the ocean draining like a bathtub full of murky water. Behind them a drain gurgled and snorted as water swirled into the pipe. She wondered how long it would take to drain an ocean when a clock popped up on the wall, counting toward the total of two minutes and three seconds.
Standing dry in the middle of the hardwood floor, only the lemon scent of furniture polish remained. Sophie Mae knocked on the solid wood paneling. “You weren’t kidding about this place.”
“I come here when I feel alone,” Dink said.
“My first day on the estate, I came in here by accident and saw my Grandma Hattie. I was certain this house was haunted.”
“It is, by my brother!”
Sophie Mae snickered. “We should do this again, but I’m kinda hungry. Do you think I could join you for dinner?”
“Oh, we don’t eat or drink. If we do, there’s a chance that the potion might fade, but it’s not all bad. I haven’t had to wash dishes in months.”
“Is that how you’re invisible?” Sophie Mae asked as they descended the stairs.
“Yeah, but the potion also has side effects. Everyone has something different. Billy can float, which he won’t shut up about. Mr. Langston reads minds, and Mary Louise talks. Leggy understands what we say, but she can’t answer, probably because she is always eating. But the best one so far is Oscar D’s giant pockets. He can carry a bunch of stuff, like most of the furniture in his house.”
At the end of the hall, they stopped at a painting of a peach blossom. “Your room is here,” Dink said. “I just want to warn you, it’s pretty dull, but you can fix it with a few touches.”
Red and pink painted flowers trailed the plaster ceiling down to the silky floral blanket covering the entire bed and hanging a few inches from the floor. Two rocking chairs had wood carvings that matched the bed frame and were near the fireplace.
“I told you it was boring,” Dink said, dropping into a chair. “It smells like a chimney, so you’ll need to open the window for a few days and let the place air out a bit. Ms. Ruby collects the sheets every Tuesday, so be ready to wake at sunrise when she comes banging on the door.”
“This is perfect. Is yours the same?”
“We have similar furniture and the same style of fireplace. I did some redecorating, you know, with all the free time on my hands. Want to see?”
Sophie Mae followed Dink but turned back to gush over the room. I never dreamt of living in such luxury.
“Over here,” Dink called from the hall. The door swung open, and Sophie Mae marveled at the colors far beyond the eight crayons she once owned. An arched window with green drapes had a tree branch painted along the frame, creating the illusion of it growing into the room. Large black flowers with red highlights layered the branch and trailed halfway along the ceiling. The bed rested on stilts and had hordes of pillows in shades of orange, pink, and yellow.
“You did all this?” Sophie Mae asked.
“Well, most of it. Mr. Langston and Oscar D moved the bed. I want to add a swing from the ceiling over there, but Mom says I’ll hurt myself. Why can’t she let me make my own decisions? I’m not a baby like Billy.”
“If the potion lets you live forever, will you grow older? I mean, it’d be hard to remain this age forever. You’d never get to decide.”
Dink frowned. “I haven’t grown any taller this year, but my hair is growing longer and my nails too. Georgie thinks aging slows, but he doesn’t know for sure. I don’t care a thing about living forever. What’s the point of life if you can’t really live it?”
Sophie Mae nodded, empathizing with Dink’s dilemma.
“I’ve noticed you wearing the same clothes since you arrived. Want to borrow something of mine until you get your own?”
“Could I?”
Dink opened the door of the wardrobe. “Take your pick.”
Not a single dress was in the cabinet, which explained why Dink only wore pants.
Sophie Mae slid the hangers and examined the details of each piece. A pair of blue pants with six buttons across the front caught her eye. Snug around the waist, they flared wide on the leg. They looked navy issue, but with a feminine touch. She went behind the changing screen and emerged wearing the pants with a white, long-sleeved shirt.
“Oh, that looks great on you!” Dink said. “Just keep them, and take those flat shoes, there, on the right. Your boots have seen better days. There’s a bath in your room. Meet me downstairs when you’re done?”
Sophie Mae nodded and grabbed the floral shoes before heading to her room. Walking in long strides, she liked how the pants bounced around her leg. These would have been great for working on the farm. Why do girls still wear dresses, anyway?
After her first proper bath in months, Sophie Mae walked down the stairs to the first floor. She’d rearranged the shirt several times and settled with it tucked into her pants. The tightness of the clothing would be a change, but the garment was an improvement on her flour sack dress.
Dink leaned on the rail. “Who knew your hair was so wavy. No one will recognize you at dinner.”
“I feel ten pounds lighter now I’ve washed off.”
The marble table in the kitchen held several small vases of blue roses. A single place setting occupied the end seat. The others had paper and a single pencil with a jagged tip, a sure sign of traditional knife sharpening.
“Miss Sophie Mae,” A tall thin woman turned from the oven and gave her a gentle hug, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m Mrs. Worthington, and I see you’ve met Dink.”
“And me!” Billy raced to the table, leaving a trail of mud.
Mr. Langston held the kitchen door for a rather short, round woman with enough wrinkles to rival a newborn puppy. The two sat at the far end of the table, and the stringent fragrance of tea tree oil wafted toward Sophie Mae.
“Sophie Mae, this is your late aunt’s closest confidant, Ms. Ruby.” Mrs. Worthington placed the roast on the table. “She tended to Ms. Catherine’s daily needs.”
Ms. Ruby huffed at the introduction, her gaze fixed on the table. Mr. Langston cradled her shoulder with one arm.
Sophie Mae smiled. They’re so cute. I bet they spend a lot of time together. Oh, I forgot to watch my thoughts. Oh, please stop!
Mr. Langston smiled wide and exposed his very white teeth. Rarely did people smile so genuinely, and Sophie Mae thought him trustworthy.
Mrs. Worthington clasped her hands near her braided belt. “Oscar D and Myrt won’t be joining us tonight. It’s their 60th wedding anniversary. Please, dear, enjoy dinner while we carry on with our nightly meeting.”
Sophie Mae loaded her plate with sliced roast, topping it with golden potatoes and tender carrots. The savory meat touched her lips, and her body shivered, warning her to take it slow.
The crinkling of paper sliding to the edge of the table filled the silence. Lead-tipped pencils scribbled and tapped, bringing back memories of timed math tests. Every few seconds, a head popped up and glanced around to gather their thoughts.
Billy hated the assignment. He hunched over the page and scribbled loudly, drawing stick figures blown to bits by a minefield.
Dink elbowed him. “Stop it. Write something down. I won’t cover for you again.”
“This is dumb. Why do I have to write the same thing every day? Doesn’t he know my daily schedule by now? Wake up, get into trouble, sleep.”
“Now children,” Mrs. Worthington said. “I hope you include the details you think are unimportant. George is only trying to help us, you understand. Would anyone like to go first?”
Mr. Langston’s chair screeched as he stood to volunteer. “Nothing unusual today. I’ve no new abilities to speak of. The mind-reading persists.”
Billy wallowed. “Well, I can float! Just like yesterday and the day before. I hope to get a teleportation ability so I can escape these dumb meetings.” A stern glare from his mother had him sulking in his chair.
Mrs. Worthington stood, holding her paper with two hands. “I still have temporary amnesia. It hasn’t improved in the slightest, but keeping a journal seems to help.”
Dink leaned to Sophie Mae. “Mom can’t remember more than a day. Sometimes we can get away with things.”
“How does she act so normal with no memory?”
“George encourages her to keep a diary to stay up to date. She’s bad at it, though. You’ll have beef roast for dinner every day because she doesn’t track what she cooks, and roast is her favorite. I guess you could remind her.”
Dink’s incessant whispering caught the eye of her mother. She corrected her posture before reading her carefully chosen words to the group. “There has been no change in my side effect. I can still make close objects appear in my left hand. The items are small. End of entry.”
The coarseness of Ms. Ruby’s voice startled Sophie Mae. “I still have visions of the future, a curse to be sure.”
Dink leaned to Sophie Mae once again. “Thankfully, she doesn’t stop Billy and me from having fun.”
“Can’t she see what you’re doing?”
“I don’t think so. We’ve tested her a few times. Once we moved her reading glasses, and another time, we hid eggs in her shoes.” Dink covered a giggle. “She’s never known it was us—at least, I don’t think so. Mom believes her side effect only allowed her to see your aunt’s future, but I can’t be sure, and it’s not like someone will ask. She’s been really mean since taking the potion.”
Sophie Mae finished half her plate, and her stomach pooched from her rib cage. She leaned back in her chair, and Mrs. Worthington smiled at her satisfaction.
The whispers and laughing among the house members came to a halt when George the Great entered the room, and Mrs. Worthington passed him the papers.
With a nod of approval, he swung the documents to his back, turning his gaze to the newest member of the house. “Please follow me, Miss Sophie Mae. We’ve much to discuss.”