by John Osborne
“You certainly keep everything tidy,” Noah said.
“It’s what my parents would have done.”
They climbed to the second floor—Noah counted thirteen steps—and walked along the balcony to the front of the house, where they entered the ballroom. The room took up the entire sixty plus foot width of the house and was twenty-five feet wide, with no wall between the atrium and the open space; the balcony was an extension of the dance floor. Two mammoth chandeliers hung from the ceiling that soared above them, two stories high. The double row of windows on three sides combined with pale green wallpaper to give the huge room a light and airy feeling.
Noah turned in a complete circle taking it all in, sensing the energies bouncing off him. His eyes fell last on Willow who stood quietly observing him with a bemused expression.
“You went back a hundred years, didn’t you?” she said.
“Can you feel it, too?”
“Sure, all the time. Important things happened in this room, lots of parties and family events. What did you see?”
Noah circled around again, pointing out each scene as he described it. “Over there in the corner, I saw the older men with their brandy and cigars and mustaches solving all the world’s problems. On the balcony a string quartet played. There, by the fireplace, were the older women, fanning themselves. Under the windows was a group of young women in their long gowns, tittering about the young men. Who would be asked to dance first? On this side were the young men in their tuxedoes, whispering among themselves, each trying to pluck up the courage to ask her. The one young woman who stood apart from the others. The tiny figure clad in a long white gown. The most beautiful golden blonde girl anyone had ever seen. She was the light of the room.” Willow blushed.
“Not one had courage enough to approach her. Then a stranger entered and was drawn to her light. He crossed the empty dance floor and the conversation hushed as he drew near her. At his approach, she turned her dark eyes toward him and blushed at his boldness. He bowed as he spoke.”
Noah laid Willow’s coat and hat on the floor, walked over to her, and bowed slightly.
“May I have this dance with the most enchanting girl in the room?”
Willow curtsied. “You are most gracious, kind sir. It would be my pleasure.”
Noah held out a hand and she gave him hers. He led her to the center of the room. When he faced her, Willow raised her wings high so he could draw her into position. He began to hum a song he thought fit the situation: Lighter Than Air. They danced as if in a room full of people, as if everyone danced in jeans and boots and high top tennis shoes on a clear October day in a deserted mansion. Willow’s wings floated gracefully as Noah whisked her around the room.
Willow began to sing:
You make me lighter than air
I’m floating, as high as I dare
Now I’ve found you, I haven’t a care
For you make me lighter than air
From where I am, the view is sublime
Come here with me, where there is no time
Leaving our troubles all to the wind
There, on a cloud, our hopes are all pinned
An hour here is no time at all
You and I, we’ll never fall
I’ll come to you, you’ve only to call
Fly with me, we’ll never fall
I’m floating, as high as I dare
For you make me lighter than air
Your love for me, is all that I need
To make me lighter than air
They floated around the room until Willow reached the end of the song.
Please keep singing. I love holding you.
Noah released her, held one hand, bowed, and kissed it. Willow curtsied in return. They both laughed and Willow applauded.
“My, my,” she said. “You should be a writer. What wonderful images.”
“And you should sing professionally.”
They stood in awkward silence, fighting the return to reality.
Willow recovered first. “There’s a website on the FairyNet called FairyWatch that reports on fairy stuff that gets in the regular media. When that song came out it grew immensely popular in the fairy world. We’ll have to dance again sometime.”
Yes, let’s do.
Willow walked toward the balcony. Noah snatched her hat and coat from the floor and followed, staying as far from the balcony rail as possible. They made a circuit of the second floor while Willow pointed out the men’s and women’s parlors on opposite sides of the atrium, where guests could relax during a party, the ballroom kitchen, the bathrooms, and a second game room with bar. She stopped at the center of the south wall where a small hallway led to the back of the house.
“This same hallway arrangement is on all four levels,” she said. “It leads to the back stairs from the kitchen. It’s also a convenient place for the bathrooms and service closets.” She walked down the hall and pulled open the first closed door Noah had seen in the house. It revealed a shallow closet housing conduit and pipes. “Father had the house rewired and plumbing updated as soon as we moved in and had all the pipes and wires rerouted through these closets on each floor.”
They continued around the balcony and then climbed to the third floor. Here were many open doors.
“This floor was the bedroom area,” Willow said. “They’re mostly single rooms, plus a couple of suites on the south side with their own bathrooms.” They wandered around the balcony until they came to the hallway on the south wall, identical to the arrangement on the first two floors.
“Those back stairs would be handy for a late night snack,” Noah said.
“We didn’t use them,” Willow said. “It’s easier to fly.” She ran toward the balcony railing and leaped over it headfirst.
Oh my God!
“Willow, no!” he cried out and ran to the rail. Vertigo struck his groin, shook his legs, but he forced himself to look down. Willow swooped around and rose before him with a gentle buzz and a quizzical look that changed to remorse. She floated across the railing and landed. He rounded on her, grabbed both shoulders, and shook her.
“Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again! Do you hear me?”
“Okay, okay!”
Noah stopped shaking her but his face burned.
How could you do that to me!
He pushed her away, stalked over to the wall, and leaned both arms against it with his head hanging down, gasping for breath.
Willow followed and rubbed his back in circles. “I’m alright, Noah,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry.”
Calm down, Noah. She didn’t deserve that just because you’re a psycho.
His breathing returned to normal and his face cooled. The warm hand rubbing his back radiated calm and comfort.
“I’m sorry,” Noah said. “I can’t stand heights and I guess I freaked.” He stood straight and looked into her eyes.
I’m not sure if I want to smack you or grab you and not let go.
“I had no right to shake you.” He dropped his gaze to the floor like a scolded child.
“It’s okay,” Willow said. “It takes a lot to hurt me. I’m sorry, too. I had no idea how you felt about heights … or me.” She leaned over and twisted her neck back to make him look at her face. She raised her eyebrows and fluttered her wings. “Still friends?”
Noah smiled, despite himself. “I should be asking you,” he said. Willow straightened and offered her hand.
“Come on, Cowboy,” she said. “I have something to show you.”
They climbed the fourth floor stairs with hands clasped. Noah looked around the top floor as they climbed and saw fewer doors than on the third. One door, the one at the top of the stairs, stood conspicuously closed.
“This level was the family living area,” Willow said. “These are all suites. Each one has a sitting room, bedroom and closet. The two on the south side have private bathrooms as well.” They reached the top of the stairs and stopped in front of the closed doo
r. Willow pointed to an open door across the atrium. “That was my room.” Then she faced the closed door. Her grip on his hand tightened.
You’re frightened. No: nervous.
“This was my parents’ room.” She released Noah’s hand and pulled the keys from her pocket. She put the key in the lock and reached for the knob. Before turning it, she looked at Noah.
“Just one other person has seen this room since they died,” she said. “Rowan has seen it once.”
And you want to show it to me?
Willow pushed the door open and walked in. She took several steps into the room and turned to face him, waving him in.
Noah walked into a gust of energy as plain as a stiff breeze. He stopped, shocked, and got his bearings before taking cautious steps forward.
Here is a place enchanted!
“I knew you would feel it,” Willow said. “My parents’ presence lingers, even after such a long time. I sense it throughout the house and some places on the grounds, but especially here.”
Noah nodded, silent.
Bright sunlight poured through the tall windows. The room was L-shaped, wrapped around the southwest corner of the atrium. The inside corner was occupied by a stone fireplace built at a forty-five degree angle. Fine white curtains hung by the windows, the ones he had noticed on his first visit. Everything in the room indicated someone lived here on a day-to-day basis. The curtains, the linens on the bed, and the pillows against the headboard were all new, all clean, spotless and wrinkle free. Fresh wallpaper glowed in the sunlight, and the floor and the woodwork gleamed. The antique furniture appeared in pristine condition. Pictures hung on the walls, lamps sat on tables. Firewood waited in a cubbyhole built into the fireplace. A glance through the door to the sitting room revealed the same condition.
“Willow, this is wonderful,” Noah said as he wandered about. A hairbrush sat on the table, a wind-up alarm clock on the bedstead showed the correct time.
Willow watched as he toured. “I’ve kept it as they left it. First, it was a hope. A hope they would return, that it was all a big mistake. They would drive up one day, home from an unscheduled trip. It became a refuge, a place where I could be with them, where I could escape from the world. Now it’s a sanctuary. I mean that two ways, I suppose. It’s a place where I can escape to safety and a place where I can worship their memory, after a fashion.” She lifted Noah’s spirits with hers as she spoke. “Louie’s never been in here, in all these years. He’s never once asked about this room, why it’s locked.”
Noah’s eyes fell on a sepia photo on the wall, done to appear antique. A younger Willow peered out at him, with long, wavy hair to her shoulders, in a white dress. “Look at this,” he said, pointing and turning to look at Willow. “It’s the girl from the ball.” Her eyes widened, but then she smiled, and walked over to look out a window.
Noah explored the back part of the room and found a walk-in closet with a single garment bag hanging in it. Behind this was a large bathroom situated against the service hall beyond.
A dazzling pattern reflected on the wall before him and he turned to locate the source. He gasped at what he saw.
How … stunning.
Willow stood peering out the sunlit window with one foot on the low sill, her wings sparkling in the bright light. The sun outlined her head and torso in a golden glow. It didn’t matter she wore jeans over a swimsuit and high top tennis shoes. She could have been in the most elegant gown and not be more captivating.
Rushing images and sensations played in reverse all that had passed between them, reinterpreted in this new light, bright as the sun through the window. Every word, every gesture, every look, and every touch, even her fragrance was redrawn on this new canvas: the scare on the balcony, the dance, the courthouse, her breakdown at the motel, speaking her name, verbal sparring at the cottage. Last was her flight at the pond: the moment she burst from the water and hovered naked before him. It was, he understood now, a most sensual, provocative display of her beautiful form.
Noah’s mind blazed through these images in an instant while Willow’s tiny figure in the window came under his appraisal. He saw her wonderful curvy hips from a new viewpoint. Her tight jeans accented luscious legs and a tight abdomen. Even the diminutive swellings of her breasts spoke of sensuality. A flash of gold shone from each perfect, tiny ear. Her face in profile was adorable, her mouth curved into a subtle smile surrounded by soft round cheeks.
“I love the view from here,” Willow said.
Me, too.
You’re not just a beautiful little fairy. You’re sensual … sexy—
Oh, no! Not that!
Noah’s body betrayed his feelings. Willow felt something, either his mood or his sudden panic, for at that moment she turned toward him. Her eyes grew wide. Her mouth opened and Noah could sense her breathing grow shallow. She closed her eyes and her mouth and drew in a deep breath. In the space of a few seconds, her appearance altered. She reopened her eyes halfway, in a slow, seductive way, and tilted her head forward and to one side so she peered at him through her eyelashes. A faint, sumptuous smile brushed her lips and radiance shimmered on her cheeks, spread across her face and down her neck and chest until the skin between her breasts shone. Her hands pressed to her hips and found their slow sensuous way to her bottom while her chest thrust forward. An unseen breeze waved her wings.
Noah’s situation grew more embarrassing by the second.
What’s going on? We’re just exploring an old house on an October day.
Willow seemed about to saunter across the room.
If you touch me, I don’t know what might happen. I want you, but …
Noah could sense some outside energy penetrating his brain. He had little will left, not enough to think for himself. Willow moved toward him.
Run away, Noah! Run away!
Deep inside, a voice tugged at Noah’s consciousness. Protection, it kept saying, protection. Through the fog, a star and a circle floated before him. He unzipped his jacket and fumbled to pull out his pentacle. He clasped the silver emblem in his hand.
The power dominating him evaporated. He breathed heavily as his body relaxed.
Thank you, Goddess.
Willow remained under the enchantment. She worked her sinuous way across the room.
Well, there is a humorous side to this, I guess.
He beckoned her to come. Her smile oozed arousal and she moved close, twisting, undulating before him. Part of him hated to shut this off, but it was time.
“Willow, look at me.” She turned her sexy glance on him. He put his hand on her cheek, holding the pentacle tight to his chest with the other. Her face went blank and the glow winked out. She shook her head for a moment and her face went crimson. Noah’s own ears warmed. She took a step backward and put her hands over her mouth.
“Oh, Noah!” she croaked. “What was I doing?” She turned her back.
“It’s okay. We weren’t in control of what was happening. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Willow turned but kept her eyes averted. Noah reached out a hand to her. She hesitated a moment before taking it in hers. He led her onto the balcony outside the room and went back to close the door, making sure it locked.
Noah walked back to Willow, who stood looking at the floor. He took her hands in his and coaxed her to look at him. “Willow, it’s alright. It wasn’t you. Something about that room affected us.”
“I’m sorry I took you in there, Noah.”
“Don’t feel bad. I think I started it and passed it on to you. You looked so … well … attractive standing in the window and…” Noah’s face burned.
We both know I wasn’t going to say attractive.
Willow smiled and patted his chest, and then examined the pentacle.
“Handy little thing. Maybe I’ll drop that room from the standard tour. Let’s move on.”
They walked in silence around the fourth floor balcony, lost in their own thoughts. Noah’s mind was full of Willow. He was acutely a
ware of her beside him with her hands in her back pockets as usual. Noah didn’t want to judge everything between them through this new lens of sexuality. He stole a look at her as they walked. She looked like the same stunning Willow. Maybe he had changed.
Time for a new subject.
“How do humans get to the widow’s walk? Not that I want to go up there, I was just curious.”
“A door in the back stairwell leads to steps up to the attic. From there you climb the spiral staircase to the indoor walk platform. Another door there leads to the outdoor walk.”
They completed the circuit of the fourth floor and arrived again at her parents’ room. Willow stopped before the door and stared at it for a moment. She looked up at Noah, pensive.
“You must think I’m crazy the way I’ve kept their room.”
“No, I don’t,” Noah answered. “Obsessive-compulsive maybe, but I like to see that in you. Makes you seem human.” He grinned.
Willow fought smiling, but gave in to his mirth.
“You bum!” she said, and shoved him. He stumbled and almost fell.
“Careful there, Supergirl.”
“Smartass! Don’t call me that.” She stood before him with her hands on her hips and her wings twitching, trying hard not to smile.
“Well … she is blonde … beautiful … strong … she can fly. No, wait, my mistake. She’s tall.”
“You rat!” Willow said and lunged at him. Noah was ready this time and flew down the stairs—in human fashion. “Wait ‘til I get a hold of you, Noah Phelps!” she yelled.
“Please don’t hurt me, little fairy!” he said amidst peals of laughter. He pounded down the steps as fast as he could move. Buzzing sounded behind him for a moment but it faded. He thought he saw a blur to his right. Just as he reached the third floor, Willow appeared before him out of thin air. Noah slid to a halt almost nose to nose with her. She floated in the air with a gleeful look on her face, her hands raised as if about to catch a basketball. She screwed her face up into an evil grimace and adopted a witchy voice.