Lucid Waking

It’s getting dusty in here and I thought it was time to return and lock the doors. Lucid Waking has moved to http://lucidwaking.net. I won’t be back to write here, but all of the posts on this blog will be transferred to the new site by the time the year is out. Please come and visit me there because I’m getting better at what I do! Currently there’s a Sun, Tues, Thurs schedule for flashbacks with two posts on Sun. Sometimes there will be irregular additions during the week. I also have a couple short stories posted. All in all, if you like what you see here, you’ll love what’s going on there. So change your bookmarks (if you have bookmarked me) and come see what’s been going on with Lucid Waking! 

            The Red and Black Autumn Ball was one of the larger, but more hushed events of Tatiana Court. Although a strictly informal event, the ball seemed to be a presentation of who could get the best and most lavish outfit and, of course, who arrived with whom. The only prize was to be talked about for at least a year and to have one’s name whispered in the gossip was Megan’s cup of tea. She was always one for lavish entrances and this year was most certainly not going to be an exception. She arrived late as planned, careful to come before the dancing had begun, so as to have a maximum audience. This year she was a little later than usual, but it didn’t deter her spirits. She stepped into the ballroom alone wearing a sleeveless red gown with beads spreading in a sunburst from her left hip. It went out in a train behind her just slightly and she wrapped a red feather boa around her arms. Her red gloves gracefully flicked the ends of the boa back behind her as she stepped farther into the room. She wore a dark red lipstick and had pink eye shadow accentuate her blue eyes. Her black hair was pulled into an upsweep atop her head, with a few wisps curling down the sides of her face. The lights seemed to radiate off of her as she confidently walked over to the buffet table. She picked up a glass of champagne and held the stem daintily between two fingers in her red gloves, the glass resting lightly on her curled fingertips. She received the response she was looking for as a few couples glanced over at her as they spun by. Others pretended not to be staring every now and then at her, but she caught their glances and smiled over her glass of champagne. 
            The night continued on as she had planned. A few people approached her and chatted for a couple minutes before tapering off to see others or dance. Although she had had no intentions of dancing, she found herself starting to sway to the music. I’ve had way to much to drink, she thought. She placed the half-drunken glass down and walked towards the patio. A few couples were outside enjoying the moon and she ignored them, walking down the steps to the garden. They had the fountain on and it’s moon reflected drops fell into the pool below. She walked up to the basin and took a deep breath of the mist. The crisp cool air came in sharp through her nasal passages and scraped her lungs, but it didn’t bother her. She glanced at young girl across the way sitting on the edge of the fountain; her back was towards Megan and she was talking to a young man. She could see the boy’s face and he didn’t look pleased. He said something to the girl that Megan couldn’t hear over the water splashing before giving the girl something and walked away, disappearing behind the hedge. Megan tried to follow him, but he was lost among the other people. She walked toward the girl who was still sitting on the edge of the fountain. She had copper hair that reflected the light of the moon into the water. She was wearing a white bodice with a red overskirt embroidered with roses. She had a red ribbon holding her hair and a red ribbon around her waist as a sash. Her freckled cheeks were stained with tears and she continued to look down at the ground even as Megan approached. She sat down next to the girl and stared at the sky patiently. She wasn’t sure what she expected to happen, but she was surprised when the girl turned and placed her arms around her, burying her face in the feathers of the boa. Megan held the girl quietly and thought about how young she looked. She could feel the girl’s hand closed around something, but she didn’t think about it for long. The girl quietly sat up and smiled a little.
            “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was melodic and sweet. She reminded Megan of the butterflies she used to raise as a little girl. She would take home caterpillars and give them lettuce and water until they were grown. Then she would draw pictures in her sketchbook of the butterflies and release them as soon as their wings were dry. She was sad to see the girl stand up, but she only went a little ways before facing Megan again.
            “I’m sorry. I’m sure that was very rude of me. I don’t even know who you are—“
            “I’m Megan,” Megan said, smiling.
            The girl turned away and sobbed a little. “My god,” she whispered to herself, “just like Edward. I’m going to live this again.”
            Megan stood up and put her boa around the girl’s shoulders. “Is that who that was?”
            The girl looked at her, slightly puzzled.
            “Was that Edward?”
            The girl was surprised and then a little angry. She pulled the boa closer to her and looked down. “Yes, that was Edward.” She walked over to the fountain and sat down again. Megan turned to face her.
            “I suppose you could say Edward and I were childhood sweethearts. We met when he, well, saved my life. It was really a silly thing; I wasn’t looking and ran right in front of a cart. He managed to stop the cart driver and get me out of the middle of the road. I was so shaken I forgot to ask for his name, so he just told me. I really didn’t care then, I was so glad I was alive. I suppose that’s the only reason our parents allowed us to be together. His father was a merchant and owned most of the seafaring ships that traveled to the colonies. We used to play on the edge of the docks together. My mother didn’t approve and his father was a little wary, but they thought as long as we were children…there may have been a chance of us growing out of it. I suppose one day we figured out that our parents were not happy at our friendship, so we used to meet in secret at an old fish warehouse. We could easily hide inside if we needed to and it sat on the edge of the sea. Time went by, and soon it was time for both of us to be wed. We were young and naïve and promised each other we would elope soon, vowing the other that there would never be anyone else. The events to follow are complicated to say the least, but there was a bit of trouble with the duke wishing my hand in marriage and my faithfulness. He won’t believe me whatever I say, but I know he’s getting these lies from the woman his family wanted him to marry and he refused. His family has disowned him and he is making me feel unfaithful when I know I…”she stopped and took a deep breath. “My god,” she said crying again, “it’s a messy story.”
            Megan sat down next to the girl patiently. She waited for a couple of minutes while the girl calmed down. She placed something small into Megan’s hand and stood up. 
            “When we promised each other never to marry, he gave me a locket. It was my seventeenth birthday. Keep it, I don’t think I can bear to look at it again.” The girl walked away calmly and joined the crowd inside. She smiled at a few other people, shaking their hands and telling a few friends what had happened. 
            Megan sat up looking at the stars, feeling the smooth locket in her hands. She looked at its gold surface and opened it up. Inside there was a picture of a boat sailing into the sunset, the orange sky shining slightly through its sails. On the other side, engraved in a circle of forget-me-nots was her name: Odette. Megan got up and walked back inside combing the crowd for the young man she had seen earlier. She found him laughing and joking with another couple. A second girl, presumably his previously betrothed, clung to his arm and daintily smiled perpetually alongside.
            “Excuse me for interrupting,” she said smiling at both the couples. The other couple excused themselves and moved on to the dance floor. “If I could talk to you, Edward, alone for a minute.”
The man looked surprised but he nodded and told the girl he would meet her at the buffet. She gave Megan a dirty look before walking off.
“I believe this is yours,” she said handing him the locket. “I wouldn’t believe everything you hear,” she added, walking away. “Love has a way to create enemies.”
            He stared after her silently as she walked to the buffet table to get another glass of champagne. She watched him run up to Odette and pull her outside again. She glanced at the second girl, who was now flirting with another young man who approached her. Soon Edward and Odette came back in again to the room, smiling. Odette waved to Megan before disappearing onto the dance floor. Megan put down her empty champagne glass.

            “I still don’t know when I’m going to get the money from your incompetent footmen. You seem to think you know best, but I’m wondering about that. It’s a lot of money, Jack. You don’t want me telling the Queen you lost it.”
            Jack held the receiver of the phone hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Caroline stood outside the phone booth with her back to him watching the cars go by patiently.
            “I’ll get it to you tomorrow. If not,” he glanced at Caroline and bit his lip, “Go ahead and tell the Queen.”
            There was a bit of silence on the other end. “You know, you’re a good man, Jack. I don’t know if you’re scared stiff to say that or just stupid. The point is if I didn’t have the colonel breathing down my neck, I would let you go. Have a good night and I’ll see you soon.”
            “Good night,” Jack let out a long held breath and left the booth.
            “Thanks for waiting, sweetie,” he said lending Caroline his arm. She had short black hair that curled around her face in a soft frame. Her nose was pointed and sharp, but the rest of her features were soft and flawless. She had full lips with red lipstick and light blush on her cheeks. Her hazel eyes were outlined with mascara on her long eyelashes and thin-rimmed glasses sat gracefully on her nose. She had on a long brown button-down coat and black leather gloves. Her black leather boots clicked on the pavement and her red skirt waved around her ankles. She was a businesswoman who worked for the International Journalists Association, which specialized in journalism around the world. She knew fourteen different languages and had a master’s degree in linguistics. Jack could never figure out how she could keep everything straight, but she seemed to manage quiet well. Regardless of race, people seemed to respect her and have a civilized conversation with her. She seemed to have an aura about her that made innocent people smile or guilty people confess. Sometimes she seemed to get more information from a suspect than the police. But, she her job and her reputation put her constantly on the run to different countries. Jack was always on the run, too, so their schedules almost never matched. The few moments they had together, they would put away their jobs for a couple of hours. Tonight was different, because Jack was having difficulty obtaining the money he needed and his footmen were falling like ripe fruit from the tree. What was worse was that no one could figure out why.
            “So what happened?” she asked. Her voice was sweet, but low. She sounded like a mother figure, which was probably why people listened to her so well.
            “Just a little bit of trouble,” Jack squeezed her hand a bit and smiled. She continued straight ahead without glancing at him, but she smiled back. “Cay, what do you know of a Mrs. Dublanc? The IJA seemed to be interested in her.”
            Caroline’s face lit up a bit and she turned to him. “Mme Dublanc is a millionaire in the perfume business in France. Rumors have gone around saying she killed her husband to inherit the business, but I don’t think that’s true. M. Dublanc was a very sickly man and he never cared enough to take care of himself. Anyway, the IJA is just dying to interview her because they believe she’s living the life of a pauper here and has millions of billions of dollars in France. I don’t know what kind of a pauper lives in a house the size of a cathedral and what perfume owner has millions of billions, but that’s the story.”
            Jack nodded and steered them into the small French café that they always ate at. They sat down at a small candlelit table and quietly glanced at the other couples in the café. The people came from all walks of life, but the little café seemed to create from even the unluckiest person, royalty.
            “Mlle Caroline et M. Jacques. C’est très longtemps. Qu’est-ce qu’il y a?” the waitress said. She winked at Jack and squatted next to Caroline. “Your usual? Oh, I’ve forgotten what that is,” she whispered, laughing gently.
            “C’est la vie,” Caroline said in her buttery French. “Nous sommes très occupés.”
          “Tout les temps?” the waitress stood up and pulled back into her French like a worn sweatshirt.
          “Oui,” Caroline responded nodding, “tous les temps.”
          “C’est dommage,” the waitress said pulling out a pad of paper. “Qu’est-ce que désirez-vous?”
          This was always Jack’s cue in all the incomprehensible French to start talking and the waitress turned to him expectantly for his order. But, just then the dim lights went out and the restaurant was bathed in candlelight.
          “Blow out your candles!” someone yelled from the darkness. “And get under the table!”
          Jack dropped down to his knees, but he didn’t follow Caroline and the waitress under the table. He sat watching through the smoky darkness out the window into the street where the Footmen had started marching. He knew the assassins were not far off and slinking between shadows in silence as they were trained to do. Although these were his co-workers, something was off and he crouched down to the floor when one would glance in the window. Then the brigade stopped and Jack joined the two other women under the table. A gunshot went off farther down the street and the sound ricocheted off the silent building faces that screamed in the flashlight beams. No one made a sound and the sound of breathing almost stopped. A soldier swore outside the window and muttered something in butchered Latin. He was obviously a new recruit, which changed the situation further. Why on earth would they put new recruits on something like this? Someone grabbed Jack’s wrist and pulled him towards the kitchen. He stood up with his mysterious leader and walked towards the corner where there was a door. The room behind it was lit and light ran out of the cracks around the door. As they got closer, he could see that it was Caroline leading him with a long kitchen knife in her hand.
          “Jack, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I want you to figure it out and stop it,” she whispered angrily as she opened up the door. Inside were hundreds of people packed into the small employee bathroom. Every one of them had their coronary artery slit and blood was splattered on the walls.
          Before Jack could react, the lights went on in the kitchen and a man dressed in black faced them, his dagger stained red. “Good evening, Mrs. Caroline,” he said as he walked closer. He smiled briefly before grabbing Jack’s upper arm. “The Queen wishes to meet with you, Jack,” he said cynically, “now.”

*If you don’t speak French here is what they are saying:

Waitress: Mrs. Caroline and Mr. Jack. It’s been a long time. What’s up? then, You’re usuals, I’ve forgotten what that is

Caroline: That’s life. We’ve been busy

Waitress: All the time?

Caroline: Yes, all the time.

Waitress: That’s too bad. What can I get you?

            He sat down on the pew facing forward with his clasped hands resting on the back of the pew in front of him. The sun streamed through the stain-glass windows projecting multi-colored images of bible stories in the room. The lights inside were off, so the room was filled with vibrant ghostly colors of red, blue and green.
            “Excuse, me, God,” he said looking up, “I’d like to make an exchange. Hey now, the damage isn’t entirely my fault. It just that the harder I try to fix it, someone else will come and make it worse than before. I think we need a new one, something that won’t be so hard to mess up. Don’t get me wrong, I love the design and all the colors, but it’s everything else about it. I don’t see why you had to include humans at all. Yes, that would mean I’d be gone, too. But I don’t really care. I’ve seen the kind of details that have been coming and I know what will happen to this if you do fix it. You’ll throw it away and give us a new one, destroy it just like that. But see, I don’t think you should. I think you should start another master race of humans who love the environment and put them on another earth. I never said it wouldn’t be work; I just think you should make more of these, you know, back up. Oh, and while your at it, it might be a good idea to come up with something to get rid of all this damage. The clichéd dues ex machina. I don’t know, might be more work than it seems.” He paused for a minute and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry you won’t accept it now, but think about it, ok? Just because it’s damaged, doesn’t mean you can’t fix it and sell it to someone else. But, thanks for hearing me out.”
            He got up from the pews and walked out to the parking lot. Thunder rumbled, and he looked up just as it started to hail.

                “Oh, no!” she gasped. She stared at the bare floor where her seventy-five thousand dollar rug was lying before she went to sleep that night. Now at nine o’clock in the morning, there was nothing there but wood floor and a note conspicuously placed on the spot that it had been. She ran down the stairs and picked up the note before running into the study, hoping no one in the house woke up. She closed the door quickly, locked it and turned on the light that sat dimly in the middle of the worktable. She cautiously opened the piece of paper, breaking the purple, wax seal pressed with a picture of a house in flames. Her hands started to shake and she became pale as she read through the letter: You’re payments are way past due, Celia, and we have given you a final warning. Fortunately, we have discovered the exact amount we needed in your home last night and we will receive this in exchange for the alternative. I hope you don’t cross us again and continue to send the proper amount to The Sender at the bank.  Should you mention this event or letter to anyone, remember what happened to Rachael and don’t underestimate our network. Thank you for your payment, and make sure your payments are not late, again. No substitution will work next time. Sincerely, The Caretakers. Ps. I’m sure your husband would love to hear about that affair you’ve been having for some time, especially since you have the baby coming. But don’t worry; we won’t harm the child.
                A rapid knocking on the door made Celia jump as she hid the letter in her slipper and ran to open the thick polyester curtains. Sunlight burst into the space as she ran across to the other side of the room, switching the light off as she went.
                “Celia, what’s wrong? And what happened to the rug I bought you in China?” her husband asked her through the still closed door. His voice was slightly muffled, but it was still apparent that he was worried about her. Her heart sank as she thought of the future child that most likely wasn’t his, but he would see as his own, anyway.
                She frantically ran to the door, trying to make as little noise as possible and unlocked it. “I’m sorry, love. The rug is getting cleaned right now. I didn’t tell you. It’ll be back next week.” At least, she thought, it will give me a week to find it and replace it with cash.
                “As long as you know where it is,” her husband led her into the room and sat her down, taking the chair across from her. “But, what was all that yelling about?”
                “Oh, just pains. I’m sure this baby will be a soccer player with they way he or she kicks,” she smiled slightly and took her husband’s hand.
                “And why were you locked up in the study?”
                “Oh, you know how vocal I am. I didn’t want to wake you.”
                Her husband smiled at her and stood up. “You should have thought of that before you screamed the first time. But I’m glad everything is all right.”
                She smiled until he left the room when she collapsed and put her head in her hands. She listened for the click of the door upstairs when her husband closed the door of the library to start work. She slowly got up and tiptoed up the stairs to her bedroom and sat down at the vanity. She pulled out pearl necklaces and diamond bracelets frantically and placed them in a cardboard box before getting dressed and going down to the bank. She waited until the desk in the farthest corner was open and stepped up.
                “Yes, may I help you?” An ageless woman sat at the desk with golden brown hair and hazel eyes behind glasses. She smiled a usual plastic smile of a corporate worker having a long day, but there was fire behind her eyes that seemed out of place.
                “I’d like to send this to my caretakers,” she said giving the woman the box. “Next day delivery, if possible.”
                The woman frowned slightly, and placed the box in her desk. Her eyes still seemed to have a mischievous look, but she said in an absolutely serious tone: “That’s going to cost a little extra.”
                “How much?” Celia asked hurriedly pulling her wallet out of her purse.
                “Twenty dollars,” the woman said as she pulled out a blue form from a filing cabinet and started filling out information.
                Celia pulled out a fresh twenty from her pocket and placed it on the desk, quickly leaving the bank. When she got home, she found a note on her pillow.
                Thank you for your next payment. We appreciate the promptness of this installment. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. Sincerely, The Caretakers.

            “Have you ever known the peace that you have just before waking? That split second before your brain acknowledges the sensory world around you and your dreaming world drifts away, that feeling of absolute serenity before it shatters like a soap bubble.” Grandmother Meredith looked out the window of the hospital at the azure sky. Tami grabbed her grandmother’s hand and gave it a little squeeze.
            “We’ll get through this, Grandma. Don’t worry.”
            “Every morning, I used to get up and make orange juice. Then Tom would join me downstairs and we used to sit on the porch and drink the juice. At eight, he would go to work and I would take care of the kids. We lived a long life like that. I don’t know what he’s going to do without me. I don’t think he knows how to work the stove let alone the washing machine…” her grandmother’s voice trailed off as she choked back tears. Tami sat on the edge of the bed and held her frail grandmother close.
            “Grandpa said to hold on. Besides,” she sat her grandmother up on the bed and looked her in the eyes, “Sam will be more than willing to teach him how to use the washing machine.”
            Meredith smiled and for a moment Tami saw the young thirty-year-old woman who would get up at six in the morning to make orange juice for her husband. The same woman who stood proud when her daughter got married and took care of baby Tami while her parents were away. Then the smile left and she closed her eyes and turned her head.
            Tami choked back tears and held her grandmother’s hand to her heart. “Please pull through, Grandma! I love you!”
 
Several weeks later, Sam and Tami were sitting outside on their balcony when the phone rang. Tami went in and answered it. She stood for a couple minutes inside before hanging up and joining Sam on the balcony again.
“Well? How’s Meredith?” Sam asked her holding her hand in his.
Tami looked across the driveway and watched the kids playing baseball in the park a block away. She smiled and glanced down at their hands.
“She’s fine. She’s coming home on Wednesday.”

            Sharon sat down in the office chair across from the older woman. The nameplate on her desk read “S. Janine Smith.” She had dyed-red hair and brown eyes with still a trace of youth in her flawless face and freckles. Janine opened up a file on the computer that Sharon couldn’t see. Sharon wrung her hands nervously under the lip of the desk and looked out the window behind Janine’s chair. Seconds ticked by like years before Janine turned and smiled at Sharon.
            “So,” Janine said getting up to close the door. “What made you look for work here at the Secret Service Police Department?”
            “I’ve been searching for something different, something risky and new that I’ve never done before.”
            Janine sat down at her desk and looked Sharon in the eyes. “I’m going to start out with the usual speech: you know that this is not a typical job and is not to be taken lightly as child’s play. We work with life and death here and one mistake can mean the difference between your life and someone else’s. Perfection is a priority and we see it in the highest regard. If you are chosen for this job you may not even go out on the field for another couple months, if you’re lucky. Any questions?”
            Sharon shook her head and took a deep breath as Janine continued:
            “Based on your past employee record as a—stunt double?” she paused and looked up from the computer screen.
            “Yes,” Sharon said looking her employer in the eyes. “Fifteen years.”
            Janine shook her head and faced the computer screen again. “You seem more than qualified to take the job as a forward. According to your records you also went to Harvard’s law school and have quite a record in public speaking, which would qualify you for a defense.” She minimized the window on the screen and turned back to face Sharon. “I suppose the best thing is to give you a couple tests and see how well you do.”
            Sharon breathed a small sigh of relief and started to get up.
            “Not, yet. We need you to answer a couple of questions first. Though your eagerness to start is encouraging.” Janine pulled out a green form from the file cabinet in her desk and pulled out a pen from the upper drawer. “So, number one. How did you hear about us?”
            Sharon raised one eyebrow. “Everyone knows about the SSPD. But I know someone who works the tech; he just told me he hacks computers for a living and recommended that I should come here after I stopped getting movie contracts.”
            “Any criminal records?”
            “No.”
            “Health issues?”
            “Well, not to be rude or anything, but couldn’t you check my records?” Sharon said impatiently. Her knees were starting to shake and she had a feeling of needing to go pee she was trying to repress. She wanted nothing more to get the interview over with and leave the office.
            “That information is not allowed to us until you are an employee,” Janice said without even looking up from the form.
            “I’m deathly allergic to fish,” Sharon said quietly, glancing over the other woman’s head somewhat embarrassed.
            Janine glanced up from the paper to give Sharon a somewhat surprised look before glancing back down quickly.
            “Education?”
            “Masters in Law and Anatomy. I took some first aid courses around different community centers and worked alongside a friend of mine in an ambulance for three years.”
            Janine put the pen away and smiled at Sharon. “Well, you’ve had quite an interesting life.”
            Sharon smiled. “I’m glad you think so.”
            “Well, welcome aboard, Sharon. Fortunately, you seem to be overqualified for the job, so I’ll see you tomorrow for your first bit of training. Training will be more of a tour on how the company works, as you already know the basics on how to defend yourself, but I’m sure that will be good enough for you to get a feel on what we’re looking for from our employees. We’ll do a couple of tests to see what you can do and give you some more training from there.”
            Sharon shook Janine’s hand and left the office as quickly as she could without seeming hasty. Once outside the doors she stopped and took a large breath of air. Then she casually walked over to the nearest coffee shop.
            “I’ll take a espresso with an extra shot,” she said to the cashier and handed them a five, saying hurriedly, “keep the change.”
            She sat down at a table and looked out the window. You did it, Shar. Congrats! You got the job!  She thought, but her mind didn’t entirely comprehend what had just happened.
            “Ma’am?” a short seventeen-year-old boy handed her a paper cup full of steamy coffee before disappearing behind the counter again. She took the plastic top off the cup and inhaled deeply as she closed her eyes. Excitement would come later, as soon as the realization hit that she had gotten a job she was going to keep for the rest of her working life.

            Alice and John would spend hours coming up with adventures for the Pilsner family. The dolls were Alice’s and she would buy the small ones with her birthday money from Pilsner’s Doll Shoppe. Although John pretended just to play house with his little sister as an older brother’s obligation, he enjoyed it as much as she did and would dust the house whenever no one was there to watch him. They had come up with an entire epic on the tales of specific dolls in Alice’s collection. Mrs. Pilsner was a slender doll with golden hair and blue eyes. Alice would usually have her in a blue dress with flowers. She worked as a dance teacher (Alice’s contribution) several minutes from home and taught any dance from the Tango to the Waltz. Mr. Pilsner was a professor at the local college (John’s contribution) who would come home from work and spend time with his son and daughter. Then he would grade papers in his study before going to bed. He wore a gray suit and had brown hair with brown eyes and glasses. Megan Pilsner was eight years old with blond hair and brown eyes. She loved the color orange and flowers. Every day, she would go out in her orange dress and apron and pick some flowers after school and put them in a cup of water until they wilted. She would then throw out the old flowers and pick new ones. Samuel Pilsner was ten and had brown hair and blue eyes. He wore gray trousers and a blue shirt. Sam loved to read and was often found with his nose in a book by the creek down the road. Aunt Trish was a schoolteacher who would visit every summer, as she was unmarried and school was out then. She had red hair and green eyes with small freckles around her nose. She usually wore a red-striped dress with an apron. Then there was Todd, who really had no relation to the family at all. Alice wanted him to be in love with Aunt Trish, but John thought that was too stupid and pointless. Alice and John used to have fights over this, but soon they dropped it and just had Todd as a family friend. Although Alice had tried several times to get either Aunt Trish interested in Todd or visa versa, John would have no part in it and they would have to stop. Todd had black hair and gray eyes and would wear tan pants with a white button down shirt (this was Alice’s favorite outfit for the men, but she would never tell John that). Alice continued to buy more dolls for the family, until soon, the two had an entire town of people. They stopped adding members to the family and called their town Sempresummer. Occasionally, the Pilsner mansion would hold extravagant parties, when Alice would pull out her box of extra clothes and dress each and every doll in a new outfit. Then she would call John over and they would have a busy evening. 

            The Pilsner mansion was quite an extravagant house, despite its size. The kitchen had a porcelain sink, a family table in the middle of the room with a breadbox and cheese. An icebox sat in the corner next to a bright window with a window box filled with pansies and marigolds. The floor was a spotless white under matching chairs around the small table. The kitchen led to the dining room. The ceiling had a crystal chandelier over a large wood table. The seats were upholstered in velvet and they sat upon a dustless hard wood floor. The table was set with matching rose china and a candelabrum sat in the center of the table. The dining room had two doors: one led to the ballroom and the other to the parlor. The parlor had two couches and a large fireplace. Above the mantle was the family portrait and below that was a clock. The couches face the south wall and were a chocolate brown with a curtain trimming around the bottom to hide the legs. The floor was hardwood and polished. A wall of large windows was on the north wall and the curtains matched the color of the couches. There were more pictures along the remaining walls. There was a door in the far corner leading to the kitchen from the parlor as well. The ballroom was Alice’s favorite. It was the largest room in the house with large windows on the west wall, where the dancers could watch the sun set. The southern wall was also covered in windows and in the middle of the wall was a pair of glass doors leading to the garden. The walls were a light green and the curtains on the windows were sheer white with gold thread around the edges. Silk ribbons hung from the edges of the curtains so that the maids could pull them back and tie them with a bow. In the adjacent corner to the door was a piano and behind the piano on shelves were a violin, cello, and harp. The ceiling had pictures of angels dancing in a masquerade in some heavenly ball. The parlor also had a door next to the one leading to the kitchen that went to the library. The library was always John’s favorite. Although not very big, the library had bookshelves that reached the ceiling and a ladder that rolled on a track around the room. A table sat in the middle of the room with several chairs that were padded on the back and the seat. The east wall was covered in windows, “so that one had the best reading light in the morning,” John would say. A chandelier was in the middle above the table, “so that you can continue reading until it’s morning again.” The library had a small extra corner and was shaped like a large “L”. Next to the windows was a door leading to the hall. At the opposite end of the hall was a staircase leading to the bedrooms.

            The hall on the second floor had white walls and was shaped in a “T”. There were windows on the horizontal top of the “T,” facing east and smaller window at the bottom, facing west. There was light tan carpeting covering the hall. The first room on the left was the study. The study was a long room with a long window facing south and a small powder room in the corner. The walls were painted a bright blue and the carpeting was navy. The walls had a couple shelves with books on them, but mostly photographs of the family and newspaper clippings of interesting articles. There was a desk underneath the windows running the length of the wall with a typewriter and papers strewn all over the desk. Alice and John knew to leave them alone, lest Mr. Pilsner would get upset. The next room was the master bedroom. This room was also long and painted mauve. The carpet on the floor matched the walls and the basing around the floor was cherry. A large window covered in thick mauve curtains and matching valence was on the south wall. There was a chair in the corner of the room and a large king-size bed in the northeast corner. The west wall had a door, which lead into the master bathroom. The walls were mauve, but the sink, bathtub, and floor were a black marble. The windows on the south and west walls were frosted and had mauve curtains. On the right side of the hall, closest to the stairs were the two guest bedrooms. Both painted white with black bedspreads and black curtains. The powder rooms had white paint with black porcelain sink and toilet. Next to the guest bedrooms was the public bathroom. This was painted taupe with gold trimming and white porcelain bathtub, sink, and toilet. There were no windows in this bathroom, but a small light with frosted-glass covering was in the middle of the room. The final two bedrooms were children’s bedrooms: one painted apricot, the other periwinkle. There were windows in both on the south walls and the curtains matched the walls and carpeting.

              Years went by and Alice and John stopped playing in Sempresummer. Occasionally, when Alice had nothing else to do, she would pull out all the dolls and rearrange their daily lives. Eventually John moved out of the house and Alice was looking at the dollhouse for the last time before she left for college. She smiled and moved Todd and Aunt Trish into one the guest rooms where they could have a more private conversation and perhaps, if John didn’t intervene, fall in love.

                She was there. Finally. The broken walls of her mind spilled out story after story until they reached mid-calf. Misty water-colored memories lay in sun-faded frames on the walls. Occasionally a large painting of an important vivid memory stood out on the gray, stone walls, but not very much. She walked on through the cold letters swirling around her boots and turning her jeans black. Finally, she reached the door. Quietly she pulled the key out of her pocket and put it into the keyhole. A bright violet light met her and she closed her eyes immediately throwing her head to the side.
                “Welcome to Utopia, Lilith. It’s so nice to have you back again after all these years. How was it locked in mortality without even a trace of power you had before? I see you’ve figured out how to access your dreams. Psychological magic is a wonderful thing, no?”
                Lilith smiled revealing pointy eyeteeth and faced the light. “I bet you thought it was funny turning me into a cockroach, then a toad. What was after that? A snake? How clichéd and ironic. But you’re frightened that I’ve managed to figure out your secret. You should have known cats are smarter than they seem.”
                “And what do you expect to do now? You have no power here. Go back and go home.”
                “Home? Why, I am home.”
                She stepped into the light and pulled a red rose from a bush near her leg. Petals fell from her hand onto the ground. Small screams came from the bush and moisture seeped out of the broken stem. She dropped the crushed flower and kept walking on through the vegitation. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. “I’m home.”