“Tick tock, you’re taking a very long time.”
“I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted.
“Logically, the beginning is always the best place to start. Are you going to draw pictures? Will there be a puppet show?”
Shuddering, Ezra shook his head. “No. Never. Puppets are terrifying.”
“Duly noted,” Roz told him. “I don’t care for them either, but I wanted to give you options on the retelling of your existence.”
Setting her tea down, she resituated herself and made her legs criss-cross before picking up her tea once more. “I’m ready.”
He sighed again. “I had a normal childhood. My mother always took time for me, but I had a governess. I was sent away to school when I was ten and returned at eighteen. I spent the next three years learning how to run the kingdom from my father.”
“What about the details?”
“My mother passed away while I was at school. I came home for the funeral but went back to school as soon as possible.”
“When did your father die?”
“He passed the week before I launched a major attack against the Second Kingdom.”
“You planned a scheme to go against an all-powerful kingdom the week after your father died?”
“Maybe,” he told her.
“Did his death have something to do with your decision?”
He shrugged.
“You shrug a lot.”
“You continue to point out the obvious. You shrug, too, by the way.”
“I do, but I don’t evade all questions. Please resume.”
He turned toward her and brought his legs up sitting criss-cross as well. “I think I’ve summed up my whole life. There’s nothing to add.”
“You’ve never had an actual friend, have you?”
“There were a few possibilities before I lost my mind and then turned into a beast. I’ll have to call them if I ever figure out how to return to my natural state. Do you think they’ll still want to be friends and skip down the street?”
“Are they even still alive?”
“You make a solid argument. Would you be my friend if I ever end the curse and become human again?”
Roz froze. She’d forgotten for a minute where she was and whom she was conversing with, and it scared her. In her desire to get answers, she’d been enjoying their talk. She’d actually been acting as if the beast could be her friend.
“You don’t have to say yes just so you don’t hurt my feelings,” Ezra said.
He realized he’d mentioned something he shouldn’t have. Her face looked as if she was terrified or sick to her stomach. He played with the corner of a pillow. The cloth material was soft and blue. His mother loved the color blue and decorated several of her rooms in some form of its hue.
The seconds turned into a minute, and she wasn’t saying anything. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to find her staring at him. The look on her face wasn’t normal. She didn’t look horrified any longer. Her mouth drooped, and her eyes were sad.
“I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
“You didn’t,” Roz told him. “I’m just thinking about the time we’re losing, and I don’t know what to do yet.”
“I told you I would tell you if I remembered anything else. If I haven’t remembered in ninety-odd years, I don’t think it will come to me overnight. We need to concentrate on flowers. If you want, I’ll locate every flower book in the room, and we can read all of them.”
“Twice?”
“Three times, if it will make you feel better. You can check in at home every day too. As soon as we have a plan, I will be the first to make it happen. I promise.”
Nodding, Roz smiled. “I appreciate your proposal. You do promise?”
“Absolutely. You will be the first to know of anything which will help us.”
“Deal.” She stuck her hand out across the cushions, and he took and shook it.
“Deal,” he agreed.
“Now, would you please get the books on flowers? I want to read every single one.”
“All of them? Today?”
She made a shooing motion at him and pointed to the bookcases. “All of them.”
Rolling his eyes, Ezra stood and walked to the nonfiction shelves. He located the flower and garden books and took them off. Filling his arms with book after book, he refused to stop.
“Here,” she was right by his side. “I’ll help you.”
Taking a handful from his stack, she carried them to the couch where they’d been sitting and plopped them in the middle. She came back for the others he’d collected, and he grabbed five more before joining her.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome. I’m going to start with this one,” she held up a flower by the seasons book before dumping it in her lap and opening it.
“I’ll start this one.” He picked at random and held up a gardening book.
Nodding, she began reading.
“Three times?” he questioned.
“Three times,” she agreed. “No skipping over paragraphs either. I want to know everything in that book by the time you finish reading it.”
“You’re going to hold me to the three times comment? Really?”
“Yes,” she added, “You rolled your eyes at me. I believe this makes up for your rudeness.”
“I’m glad I didn’t stick my tongue out at you,” he muttered.
“Read,” she commanded.
“Tyrant,” he said under his breath.
Roz looked up from her book and glared. He shrugged and began reading. They returned glances as each hovered over their books.
Ezra fought a smile. He hoped he remembered anything he read after sitting near her for the whole day. Biting his lip, he focused on the words on the paperback.
Turning a page, Roz stole another look at the beast. He was biting his lip and had narrowed eyes downcast. She grinned and returned her eyes to her own book.
Maybe, just maybe, we’re becoming friends. Sighing, she continued to read and only take occasional peeks at the beast. This has to be the strangest mission in the world.
Shaking her head, Roz transferred her attention back to the book. If she didn’t focus, she’d never remember everything she was reading. She needed to figure out how to break the curse and staring at the cause wasn’t going to help.
“Read,” she whispered to herself.
“I am,” Beast retorted.
“Good,” Roz told him. “We have a lot to figure out here.”
Shaking his head, he went back to reading. She followed his lead and only took peeks at him every few minutes instead of seconds.
Progress, she thought and reread the same paragraph for the third time.
23
“Ezra! Ezra, wake up!”
The pounding on the door accompanied by Roz’s screeches startled the beast. He came from the bathroom where he had just stepped from the shower. It was just after dawn, and he hadn’t thought she was up.
“Hold on!” he called out. Grabbing clothes and stuffing his arms and legs into them, he staggered to the door.
“Are you all right?” He threw the door open and stared down at her.
She was wearing an outfit Mrs. Hausmeister had given to her. It’s pants and flowy shirt looked beautiful on her. It was blue, and she smelled good too. A wonderful combination.
“Yes, I’m fine. Look outside,” she clutched his sleeve and dragged him to the windows facing the back lawn.
“What’s got you in a frenzy?” he asked, as she shoved him.
“This! It’s happening!”
Pointing out the window, she waited. The beast held the curtain open and gawked. The site was both beautiful and terrifying. He knew what the flowers meant. For the first time in nine decades, he felt a moment's panic.
What will happen now?
“What’s going to happen now?” she asked.
It was as if she had read his mind. Shaking his head, he released a pent-up breath.
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
“Does this mean it’s started? Will the curse end? What’s going on? Those books about flowers taught me nothing. They’ve blossomed overnight. That doesn’t typically happen, does it?”
Shaking his head, he repeated, “I don’t know. I’m not sure what transpires now.”
“Can we go see them?”
“See what?”
“The flowers!”
Nodding, he tapped on the window. “I don’t know what to do.”
Roz put her hand on his arm, and he looked down at it. “We’ll figure it out. Together,” she told him.
He watched her squeeze his arm and smile up at him. It made his palms start to sweat. Swallowing, he nodded again.
“I’ll meet you out there!” she called out as she ran from the room.
Buford came in with the beast’s coffee and set a tray on the table. He stood with his hands behind his back, and he stared at Ezra.
“There are flowers in the yard,” the butler told him.
“Roz showed me.”
“Did you see the other development?”
“What development?” Ezra asked.
Buford walked up to him and pulled the curtain back again. He nodded out the window, and Ezra took a deep breath to look back outside. The yard below was full of roses. Red, pink, and white flooded the ground.
Blinking, he leaned closer. He started to squint. The sun was shining in his eyes, glaring off the window, and Ezra gazed upward.
The sun wasn’t black. It was an orange-yellow he recalled from decades ago. The blob was accompanied by fluffy, white clouds. Strips of blue sky shined between the clouds.
“Buford, are those birds?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Is the sun no longer black?”
“Yes,” Buford nodded.
“It’s started,” he whispered.
Watching out the window, he saw Roz roaming from flower to flower. She rubbed their petals and smelled every bloom. He watched her look them over with such an intense wonder in her wide, black eyes.
She glanced up at him more than once as he continued looking down. He could almost read the question in her eyes from this far away. It was as if he had magically made the flowers appear all by himself.
He hadn’t.
Beast didn't want to stare at his impending doom in the shape of intoxicating roses. Yet, he knew she wanted him to come out there and see them. He swallowed and leaned his head against the glass.
“Sir, would you like me to do anything for you?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to pour the coffee?”
“No.”
“Would you like breakfast now?”
“No.”
“Ezra, I need you to come away from the window and speak in complete sentences.”
He turned and walked toward Buford. Sliding into a chair, he picked up the pot and poured coffee into his cup. Buford stood over him not saying a word but watching him serve and sip.
“I’m going to need a second pot.”
“Yes, sir. Will you please tell me what I can do to help you?”
“There’s nothing you can do. This is the beginning of the end. I don’t know how to stop it.”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Buford replied.
“What do you mean?” He set down the coffee cup.
“It’s possible you aren’t supposed to stop it. The curse has to run its course, and you are supposed to learn something from all of this.”
“What am I supposed to learn, Buford?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but maybe you’re learning how to love someone.”
Sitting up in his chair, the beast set his cup back on the table. “What do you mean? I’ve loved people.”
“Yes, but it’s time to love someone who isn’t related to you. Someone who can choose to love you back.”
“Buford, Roz doesn’t love me.”
The butler shrugged. “I’ll start the second pot. You should go outside and look at those flowers. The sun is so bright they’ll probably catch on fire soon.”
“If only I could assist in making sure it took out all the flowers in the kingdom.”
“I will keep all flammables away from you,” Buford stated.
“I’ll be down soon. Start breakfast, I’m sure Roz will be hungry when she returns.”
Buford nodded and closed the door as he left. Standing, the beast went back to the window. Roz was still out there smelling the roses.
Sighing, he prepared to go outside and face his fate. He went downstairs and to the study. Exiting the doors there, he walked outside for the first time in decades.
The breeze was warm. It provided relief from the onslaught of heat. Sunshine blasted him as he stepped onto the patio.
“Isn’t it perfect?” Roz yelled. “The sun isn’t black! Ezra, the sun is actually yellow! I’ve never seen a yellow sun before. This is amazing!”
“That’s one word for it,” he muttered.
“Are you doing all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he nodded. “I’m just taking it all in, and the sun is blinding me.”
“Doesn’t it feel glorious? I’m sure everyone in town is ecstatic! Can I pick some of these flowers?”
“Of course,” he said.
He couldn’t let his fear dim the excitement he saw in Roz's eyes. She bounced from bush to bush collecting a few roses. Red, white, and pink blossoms filled her arms.
Mrs. Hausmeister appeared with a basket. She smiled as she handed it to Roz. Nodding to him, the cook went back inside through the back, kitchen door.
Placing the flowers inside the basket, she turned and smiled at him. He liked her smile. He liked it enough to push thoughts of his imminent demise out of his mind and smile back.
“Is this what the sky used to look like?” she asked, raising her eyes to his.
“Yes, it’s just the same. I can’t believe it appears to be exactly as I remember it.” Thinking over the time before being a beast, he wished for those times again. “It’s beautiful.”
Roz stared at him for a few minutes more before returning to the flowers. She didn’t ask
any more questions about the world before, and he didn’t add anything else. He knew seeing it and hearing of it were two very different things.
She kept fingering the petals and sniffing the delicate flowers over and over again. Their perfume lingered in the air. He took the basket for her and followed her around as she continued to pick a few more.
“What are you planning on doing with all of these? I feel as if someone somewhere would be appalled at all the flowers you’re uprooting from their earthy homes.”
“You’re right,” she said. Straightening, Roz wiped off her hands and faced him. “I’m so excited I don’t know what I’m doing. Can I put these all around the house?”
“If you’d like,” he conceded.
“Ezra?”
“Yes?”
They started toward the back door but paused when Roz put her hand on his arm. For the second time in one day, she was voluntarily touching him. He swallowed and didn’t call attention to it.
“Will you be okay? The flowers don’t mean anything’s going to happen to you, do they?”
He shrugged.
“Ezra, stop shrugging.”
“I don’t know, Roz. As I’ve said before, I don’t know what’s going to follow. I wish I did.”
Roz nodded and bit her lip. “I’ve decided not to kill you.”
Head jerking back, he felt shocked. “No more forks flying at me?”
“I promise. None,” she said.
“Is this pity?”
“What?” She laughed.
“Do you pity me?”
“Why would I pity you? Of course, I don’t pity you.”
“I expect you to throw a butter knife at me just to keep me on my toes. Don’t let me off the hook until we find answers. These flowers might not mean anything unti
l I figure out what they lead to next.”
She raised a brow and lifted her hands in a questioning gesture. “Understood,” she said. “I’ll make every effort to take you out. Are you satisfied?”
“For now, yes.”
“Should we go inside?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he told her.
They stood for a moment beside the door. She stared at him, and he gazed at the flowers. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he really wanted to tell her: the truth.
“After you,” he said and opened the door.
“Thanks.” She squeezed his arm and entered.
He followed and worked hard ignoring the stabbing in his heart.
“Do you think I’ll ever remember what happened to me that night?” Roz asked him later that evening, still trying to piece together the last moments between being left behind by her team and waking up.
She sat across from him on the couch in the library with a copy of The Joy Luck Club and gave him a very serious look. He didn't know how to answer. He wanted to say yes, but there was a large part of him hoping she'd never remember and leave him. The fact was he didn't want her to go, but she had been patient for much longer than he ever could have expected.
“I think so,” he told her.
Tilting her head to the right, she sighed and nodded. “I don't know why I trust you,” she whispered, “but I do.”
A compressed sigh rumbled through his chest. His lips lifted over fangs as he ducked his head. There was a certain unrecognizable heat filling his cold cheeks. Saying nothing, he stared at the pages of his own book until the words blurred.
He stopped the smile from full ascent by biting his lip. The pressure and multiple points were instantaneous in puncturing his flesh, but he only licked the blood away and continued to stare.
She returned to her book when it was evident he would say nothing in return. Her sigh reached his ears, and he wished then to do or say something heroic to make her take the sigh back.
Eyes flashing upward, he noted her hand against her freckled cheek, and her eyes upon her book. They didn't look up as he watched her. For some strange reason, he wished he could promise her something wonderful.
Perhaps the answer to ending this curse?
He opened his lips, but the words wouldn't come. In the end, he looked back to his own book and didn't say a word.
The Four Tales Page 41