Ashes of Iris

by Stephanie Poscente

“Fifteen minutes until we leave, we should head to our gate.”

  Reaching their designated gate, they joined the few people already seated there. A middle-aged man reading a celebrity magazine, an older woman wearing a dress resembling the photos Sophie had seen of elderly women in Europe, and a couple nestled on a loveseat near the large windows looking out onto the airport runways, seemingly oblivious to anyone around them as they gazed at each other and spoke in whispers, appeared to be the only ones joining them on their flight.

  “It doesn't look like our plane will be full,” observed Aunt Marilyn, “that's a good thing.”

  Sophie dropped her small bag onto one of the many empty chairs and took a seat beside it. She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and tucked them into the spaces on either side of her legs. Her toes tapped the floor, owing in part to the restlessness of her legs, though the coffee was affecting her just as she thought it would. After a few minutes, Aunt Marilyn glanced at her out of the corners of her eyes with a look that made Sophie cross one foot over the other and press them together, holding them still.

  “Now boarding, rows one through eight. Rows one through eight, now boarding.”

  “That's us dear, row six,” exclaimed Aunt Marilyn, who stood so quickly Sophie almost missed the movement, and clutched her purse and jacket to her chest.

  They made their way up to the desk, where another smiling woman stood to greet them.

  “Boarding passes, please.”

  Sophie handed over her ticket for the flight attendant to inspect, and then followed her aunt down the steep tunnel and through the small door onto the plane. Walking through the first class section, they made their way to the tight belly of the plane where the air was stiff and musty. The aisle was far too narrow, forcing Sophie to angle her body in order to squeeze through. Bumping into more than one elbow on her way past, she muttered a continuous stream of “sorry” and “excuse me”.

  “Here we are,” Aunt Marilyn stopped beside an empty row and motioned for Sophie to enter first. Her seat was next to the small window.

  Sounds of people chattering and bumping into seats filled the air. Flight attendants were kindly helping everyone store their belongings safely and offering advice on how to get settled. Sophie's seat was hard and lumpy, the back much too erect to be comfortable. Her knees pressed against the seat in front of her, leaving no room to stretch her legs. She could only hope that no one would fill that seat and recline it, restricting her movement further.

  The plane backed slowly out of its dock and made its way to the end of the runway. Pushing her hands hard into her thighs, she squinted through the tiny window at the black pavement racing by below her. When the nose of the plane began to rise into the air she felt her stomach lurch as they were lifted off the ground in a steep incline. The drone of the engine vibrated in Sophie's ears and she glanced at Aunt Marilyn who sat with her head tilted back and her eyes closed, muttering silently to herself. Despite her enthusiasm about the trip, Aunt Marilyn had never taken a liking to flying.

  Several minutes later, the plane evened out and the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker once more.

  “Successful take-off ladies and gentlemen, the seat belt sign will be turned off in a moment and our first in-flight movie will begin shortly. We will be arriving in Zurich in approximately seven hours. Enjoy the flight.”

  The voice cut out and Sophie was left with nothing to distract her but the loud hum of the engines and the buzzing conversations of the excited travelers surrounding her.

  Chapter 2

  Seven and a half long hours later, Sophie opened her eyes to the bright light of early morning. The abrupt chime of the seat belt sign had woken her from an uneasy sleep and she looked around in a daze. Aunt Marilyn was shuffling through the various items she had pulled from her carry on. A pile of magazines rested on her lap. Sophie stretched her legs as best she could and arched the ache out of her back. After a minute or two, she felt the sensation of descent and looked out the foggy window.

  Once the plane landed safely and the passengers filed into the terminal, Sophie and Aunt Marilyn stepped out of the line and paused beside a tall pillar before attempting to navigate the crowded airport. There were people scattered everywhere waiting for their flights or pushing their way through the crowd. Sophie, not one to welcome bustling crowds, felt claustrophobic.

  “Here it is,” said Aunt Marilyn, pulling a thick envelope from her purse and removing the pamphlet of directions from the piles of travel papers. “The Isa Caecilia. Oh, Sophie, doesn't it sound just wonderful? A real life princess castle.”

  “It really does. It will be less wonderful if we don't have our bags, though,” Sophie replied, searching the area for the baggage claim sign.

  “Oh, stop,” Aunt Marilyn slapped Sophie on the arm. “You don't always have to rain on my parade, you know. A smile goes a long way.”

  Sophie feigned deafness to her aunt's comment, silently scolding herself for her obvious failure at hiding her worry. She wanted her aunt to believe she was excited, and to know nothing of her fear or the sadness she felt without the support of her uncle. They hadn’t spoken much of him since his death, and she refused to be the one to unnecessarily bring it up and cause her aunt any pain. Her aunt deserved to enjoy herself, and Sophie was determined not to play any part that would stifle her excitement – even if that meant bearing the burden of her emotions alone.

  Upon admittance into the airport, they were swept away by the throngs of people swarming the halls. A passing traveler caught her shoulder with his, jolting her to the side as she struggled to catch up with her aunt, who had pressed on, careful to avoid knocking into anyone with her luggage.

  Aunt Marilyn waved her hand as she sped up to meet her brother-in-law and his wife where they stood in line at a small coffee shop. Sophie had not seen her mother and father in over four months. Anticipation stirred within her at the thought of their meeting. The child within her longed for them when they were absent, but the reunion always ended in disappointment. She knew it was vain to hope this time would be any different.

  Carol and Tim Iris were a distinguished looking couple, married for thirty years with two daughters and financial wealth most people would give up much of their lives for. This wealth was attained mostly by her father's uncanny ability to predict stock market trends, though his work as a plastic surgeon earned him a fairly exuberant lifestyle on its own. He was tall and confident, fashionably dressed, but there had always been a sort of ruggedness about him. From his ever present beard stubble to his expensive and well-worn hiking boots, Tim Iris exuded masculinity.

  Carol Iris, Sophie's mother, was the opposite. She was a perfectly manicured, groomed, and flawlessly attired picture of the typical modern day wealthy housewife. Her unnatural blonde hair was, at present, styled to match the latest trend and Sophie noticed the shoes she was wearing would have looked more at home on a runway in Paris than standing in line for coffee.

  At once upon seeing her parents, Sophie felt like she had fallen into a pressure cooker. Aunt Marilyn bustled over to the waiting couple with her arms outstretched.

  “Isn't this wonderful?” she exclaimed. “Oh, I just can't wait to get out of this airport and see where we are staying! Is it really as beautiful as the brochure?”

  Sophie walked awkwardly up to her mother and was immediately enveloped by the familiar scent of her perfume.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said.

  “Sophie, is that your only suitcase? For heaven's sake, what's the matter with you?”

  Anger and embarrassment swelled inside of Sophie for a split second, but she mastered it and was calm when she spoke.

  “Yes,” she said, “yes, this is my only suitcase. Hi, Dad. How have you been?”

  The forced politeness of the inquiry rang in her ears, but he didn't seem to notice. She could always count on his lack of attentiveness.

  “Hey honey! No, I'll take the change,” Tim waved at his daughter aft
er receiving his coffee. “It's good to see you.”

  Once greetings and hugs had been exchanged all around, the foursome made their way through the crowded airport to the front doors. Stepping through the exit, Sophie immediately spotted an enormous vehicle parked in the handicapped loading zone. Its passenger side tires were invading a third of the sidewalk. Her stomach dropped, but still Sophie prayed that this was not the vehicle her parents had rented. Tim pulled a set of keys from his pocket and pressed a button. The monstrosity let out a series of shrill chirps. Sophie's steps faltered, but her aunt elbowed her gently and followed Tim and Carol to the back of the vehicle.

  “Oh my!” exclaimed Aunt Marilyn, “this sure is quite the, um, well, what is it you call this thing, Tim?”

  “It's a Hummer H2, Mary,” replied Tim enthusiastically, thrilled to have been given an opportunity to boast. “Isn't she a beauty? Fully-loaded. We thought it would be a blast having this thing.”

  “It sure is big,” Aunt Marilyn stated, lacking the enthusiasm displayed by her brother-in-law.

  “Oh, Marilyn,” Carol chimed, her voice nasal and smug. “You know how Tim gets. He loves his toys. Let's get moving, I want to get back in time for my afternoon massage. Sophie, just put your suitcase on the floor in front of you. There's no more room in the back. I suppose it's for the best that you're not the most organized person on the planet.”

  Murmuring angrily to herself, Sophie climbed into the small back seat, stuffing her suitcase between her legs and squirming to find a position in which her knees would cooperate. The inside of the vehicle was surprisingly tiny. Aunt Marilyn squeezed into the seat beside her, huffing and gasping as she shifted her body through the tight space.

  “It's about a half hour from here to the hotel,” Tim called from the driver's seat, “so I hope you guys are comfortable.”

  With a groan, Sophie shifted her weight, trying to twist her left leg so that she could somehow cross it underneath herself and out of the way. After several minutes, she gave up and resorted to sitting with her right leg squished in between her suitcase and Aunt Marilyn's wide leg and her left knee pulled up to her chest.

  Thirty minutes seemed like an eternity. Her parents bickered incessantly about the wedding, and her aunt constantly poked her arm and pointed out the window saying, “Sophie, look!”

  She opened her own window as far as it would go and allowed the sound of the rushing wind to mute everything else around her. Once they reached the outskirts of Zurich, the rolling hills became ever larger and seemed to glow green. Creeks and trees intermingled, dancing together in an unending waltz. Not a cloud dashed the clear, blue sky, and quaint homes on sprawling fields dotted the landscape. Amongst the foreign scenery and the wind whipping her hair around her face, Sophie almost forgot where she was. She found herself wide-eyed, leaning out the window when the highway curved past a solitary lake, breathtaking and vast with crystal clear water reflecting the forest that crept right up to its bank.

  Every now and then they would pass cyclists winding their way up and down the hills, and groups of horseback riding tourists pressing a winding trail alongside the highway. The warm spring air brought with it the musky scent of the forest intermingled with the smell of sun-warmed asphalt and oil. Closing her eyes, Sophie lost herself in the sounds of the wind and sporadic roars of passing vehicles. Bright flashes of sunlight appeared in the darkness, caressing her eyelids. She focused every ounce of her attention onto the warmth of the sunlight touching her face and neck and the pleasant experience of the fresh blowing air.

  In that moment, she was content. For just a few minutes, she was not fixated on the nervous anticipation of the next ten days, and swelling excitement managed to press its way to the surface. A smile crossed her face and she leaned her chin on her crossed arms and lost herself in her own thoughts.

  “Marilyn, you will love this hotel. There is room service twenty-four hours a day, the spa is open morning until night and the food is delicious. It's a bit dated, though. I think the castle was built in the 1700's or something. You would think they could refurbish it with all the money they make, but it's still all stone and candles. I mean, honestly, there aren't even TV's in the rooms. How ridiculous is that? Just because it was built so long ago, doesn't mean we all want to live in the Stone Age.”

  Sophie listened to her mother's rambling, wondering idly if the hotel was truly lit only by candles. From what she had read of where her sister was to be married, she knew the owners had done their best to maintain the original feel of the castle. Other than adding plumbing and electrical, the castle had been kept as close as possible to its original state.

  “Oh, we're almost there! See that pond on your left? Apparently you can take a canoe out there. They have these canoes, made of real wood. It's a real hoot, the way these people try and keep everything authentic. I think it's quite unnecessary, to be honest.”

  Carol flipped her hair out of her small, blue eyes as she spoke turning to look at her husband with a mocking smile that twisted her beautiful features into a mask of arrogance.

  “Tim is a sucker for all that romantic stuff, aren't you honey?”

  “Well, we're on vacation,” Tim answered. “I'm trying to get the most out of my money.”

  “Why,” Carol growled, turning her face away and folding her arms over her chest, “do you always make everything about money?”

  Here we go, Sophie thought.

  Looking over at Aunt Marilyn, she noticed her aunt gazing out the window with a pained expression.

  “Are you alright?” Sophie asked in a soft voice, touching her gently on the shoulder.

  Aunt Marilyn jumped at the touch, turning to Sophie with a look of surprise. She watched the effort her aunt made to hide her emotion, but decided not to question her.

  “Yes, dear,” Aunt Marilyn forced a smile, “look at these trees! They are so tall. I wonder if they are fir trees. Or are they pine? I am not even sure of the difference, do you know?”

  Sophie shook her head, concerned by her aunt's forced attempt at small talk. She glanced back out of the window, watching the houses on either side of the two lane highway grow more condensed. In the bright morning light, people were strolling down the narrow sidewalks or standing on their front steps and gazing out across the lake bordering the town.

  Her father turned left onto a narrow street, following the road as it wound its way through the town and into thick forest. The road shifted from pavement to gravel. The loud crunch of the tires echoed through the open window. On her right, the trees thinned and opened into a massive courtyard filled with sunlight. At the farthest end of the yard there stood an ancient looking church. High windows flanked the perimeter of the building and a steeple stood twice as high as the church itself. Sophie watched it pass, unease tight in her chest. The hairs on her neck stood up, and she had to force her eyes away, surprised by the strange reaction.

  “See over there,” Tim pointed to his left after the church had faded behind them, “there's a kind of opening in the trees and you will be able to see the pond Carol told you about.”

  Sure enough, a moment later, Sophie caught a glimpse of what appeared to be more of an unkempt marsh surrounded by trees. It was not the type of pond she would consider for a romantic encounter, as her mother had described. Weeds rose from the ground, twisting in knots around one another along the edge of the water. The water itself was coated in a thick brownish green sludge, which jostled like gelatin when a low flying bird skimmed its surface.

  “It doesn't look very clean,” she commented.

  “Why would it need to be clean? It's not for swimming in.” Carol turned her head to glance at Sophie. “I'm sure you didn't even pack a bathing suit, did you?”

  “I did,” Sophie replied, her voice tired.

  They followed the drive through a wide open space, circling the furthest end of a roundabout and coming to a stop in front of a huge stone staircase. A thick mass of bushes mingled with bursts of colored flow
ers in the center of the roundabout, their leaves rustling in the light breeze. On the opposite side of them, at the top of the staircase, were two enormous wooden doors. Shallow carvings detailed their edges and they were flanked by wide wooden pillars. Only the entrance of the stone castle could be seen, for the trees seemed to engulf the rest.

  Looking up, Sophie could see three turrets emerging above the tallest trees. Small windows were visible, but no light shone in them. There was an inexplicable aura of apprehension, and she could understand suddenly why some people believed the place to be the residence of spirits.

  “It's beautiful,” breathed Aunt Marilyn from beside her.

  “I suppose you could say that, but I wish they'd cut down some of these trees. It hasn't got much curb appeal,” said Carol.

  “The trees are what make it beautiful,” Sophie countered, so awed by its beauty and mystery that she could do no more than stare.

  As Tim stepped from the driver's seat, a young man in a fitted black tuxedo emerged from the doors and hurried down the stairs. He spoke quietly to Tim before stepping to the back of the vehicle and pulling the suitcases from the open back door.

  Sophie pushed her own door open and wiggled the suitcase from between her legs, lowering it to the ground and carefully stepping onto the loose gravel. Her legs were stiff and aching from being contorted and she was glad to stretch them, turning in a circle to get a full view of the castle's vast front yard. Though the sun shone overhead, casting long shadows across the grass and bouncing from the vibrant flower petals, she noticed a dull haze hanging in the air that she hadn’t noticed on the drive.

  Aunt Marilyn stood with her hands clasped under her chin, a broad smile spread across her face.

  “It's more beautiful than I imagined,” she whispered.

  Following the boy up the stone stairway, Sophie glanced to her right and noticed a break in the dense forest. A small path wound its way into the shadows of the trees, disappearing into the darkness beyond. For a moment, she thought she could see a tall shape moving to stand near the edge of the path, but she blinked and it was gone. She heaved her suitcase up the top step and followed the group through the double front doors.