Creatures

Chapter Eight

We piled out of the bus and trudged through the snow to the mansion steps. They were steep, about a foot high each, as if made for someone taller than a normal human. HHHuge double doors waited for us at the top of the steps. The doors stood open, yawning wide like a giant’s mouth. Beth stopped at the threshold before going inside.

I stopped beside her. She was eyeing the ornate old-fashioned door. She ran her hands over the heavy rings that opened the door.

“The adults called this The Portal,” I explained.

“Is that real gold?” she asked. She rubbed the thick, gleaming rings of yellow metal that you pulled on to open the doors. They looked like they were solid gold to me.

“Maybe,” I said. “Knowing my family, it probably is.”

“That’s great,” she said, grinning. “You might be full of it, Connor, but I’m glad I came along.”

I nodded and smiled. She would figure things out soon enough. I only hoped she didn’t go too crazy when something really strange happened.

We tramped into the entryway and knocked snow off our boots. The carpet was thick and red and your feet sank into it as if you were walking on cushions. Along the walls were more carvings, mostly of animals. One was a wooden carving of a beaver that leaned on a cane. The beaver looked old and tired, but strained to stand up straight.

Beth giggled. She pointed at the beaver. “One of your uncles, I presume?”

“A grand aunt, actually,” I said.

“Oh Connor, you’re too much.”

I pointed at the plaque at the bottom of the statue. It read: In loving memory of Aunt Ethel.

Beth’s mouth sagged open. “Oh, come on!” she said. She stared at it for a few more moments. “Okay, so somebody had an aunt that loved beavers, right?”

“Yeah, she had a thing for beavers that walked with canes,” said Jake.

Beth just laughed and shook her head.

Jake and I exchanged glances. I knew what he was thinking. She still didn’t believe us. This was going to be a rough landing for Miss Elizabeth Hatter.

The entry led into the Great Hall. The hall was two stories high and all around the upper level were dusty portraits of people in old-fashioned clothes. Down on our level there were doors and corridors that led off deeper into the mansion. The middle of the hall was full of more plush, red carpet and a lot of overstuffed chairs and sofas. There were tables and old-fashioned frosted-glass lamps everywhere. Miss Urdo let us all relax here.

“This has got to be the best room,” said Jake, stretching out on a sofa.

Beth made me tell her things about the people in the portraits up on the walls, but I couldn’t remember most of their names.

While we talked, something fluttered down to land on the arm of my chair. It was Sarah. She was in the shape of a blue jay.

“Hello, Sarah,” I said.

She pecked at my hand. I reached out a single finger and she hopped on. I lifted her gently. Her tail wobbled as she balanced on my finger.

Beth, for the first time maybe, looked astounded. “How did that bird get in here? It’s trained? I didn’t know people had pet blue jays.”

She walked over and knelt to get a closer look. Sarah and I looked at her. Sarah cocked her head curiously.

“Sarah, meet Beth,” I said, introducing them as gracefully as I could. “Beth, Sarah.”

“Oh geez, another animal friend of yours, huh? Is she your auntie too?” laughed Beth.

“Beth,” I whispered, “I told you to play along with things until you understood.”

“But this is too much,” she said. Beth laughed hard and loud, she was so loud that all the other kids noticed. Soon everyone in the Great Hall stopped talking and looked over at us to see what was so funny.

“Beth,” I whispered.

She had the giggles now, and shook her head at me. She couldn’t talk.

“How rude,” said Sarah.

Beth’s laugh cut off with a gasp. “Someone taught it to talk?”

“Sarah,” I said to the bird, “You know she’s new.”

Sarah turned her beak toward me and said, “Your new girlfriend isn’t too smart, is she?”

“Sarah!” I said, shocked at her rudeness.

“Hmph,” huffed Sarah, turning around so her tail feathers faced me.

Beth’s face froze and her eyes flashed from my face to Sarah’s. In that instant, she got it. I was talking to a bird and it was talking back in a snooty fashion. One moment, everything was a big joke. Funny and interesting, but not real. Then the next moment, she got it all. All at once. Everything was real, and the joke was on her.

It was too much surprise all at once for one person. Beth was still kneeling in front of my chair. She rocked backward, lost her balance and sat down hard. Fortunately, the carpet was cushy. She stared at Sarah and me in shock. Her mouth made a perfect “O” of surprise, matching her wide, staring eyes.

Everyone in the place hooted with laughter.

I felt bad for Beth, but it could have been worse. She was only embarrassed and shocked. Not scared.