Argua

Chapter I

Midnight Stories

Grandma! Grandma! the children could be heard shouting throughout the house.

What’s the matter, kids, what’s all the fuss about? the old woman asked from her rocking chair where she was reading a book by the fireplace.

We’ve seen it, Grandma... We’ve seen it... whispered the older of the two children, almost breathless.

The old woman, who had her back to them, was silent for a few moments as she slowly closed the book and looked into the fire, which seemed to have changed color and lessened in intensity, while the children waited anxiously for their grandmother to pay attention to them.

What exactly did you see?

The older one held her tongue when she noticed her grandmother’s strange reaction, but the little boy plucked up the courage to speak by hiding behind his sister with only his head peeking out from under her arm.

Argua, Grandma.

The old woman looked them straight in the eye.

And... where did you see it, little ones? she asked.

At the lake. Old Bill warned us not to go there, but James ran away, and I had to go after him. We were playing by the lake, and then we saw something shining. James picked it up and it started to snow, Grandma! Sasha exclaimed.

Christmas! shouted the little boy with a big grin on his face, as it was his favorite time of year.

I was going to take it out of his hands, but Bill came yelling, so we ran home to show it to you. I think it’s a magic stone, Grandma, said the girl.

What an imagination you have, my little ones, replied the old woman, smiling and going on with her reading.

Sasha looked at her brother and nudged him, which made him move closer to their grandmother. He stood motionless behind the rocking chair where the old woman was sitting.

Children, Grandma needs to rest. You have given me too much excitement today with your stories. You have a great imagination, just like your grandfather. He was always telling amazing stories.

James looked at Sasha not knowing what to do. She gestured with her hands, Come on! What are you waiting for!, so the young boy walked over to stand in front of his grandmother and held out his hand.

My Dear, I don’t have any candy, the woman replied before looking up at him. She peered over the top of her reading glasses at a tiny turquoise gem on the little boy’s palm.

Ohhhhh, the old woman whispered as her eyes misted and lit up when she noticed the tiny stone.

Take it, Grandma.

The woman brought her decrepit fingers close to the gem, but stopped short, as if the emotion of the moment had blocked her or something prevented her.

Where did you say you found it? the old woman asked.

On the shore of the lake, Grandma, replied the little boy.

Are you all right, Grandma? asked her granddaughter.

The woman rose from her chair with great excitement, albeit slowly due to her age, and went straight to the bookshelf to grab a volume. She then opened the large book in question. It contained within it a huge, dried leaf from some kind of exotic plant. The old woman sat back down in her chair, took out the curious leaf and told the little boy to put the stone on it so that she would not have to touch the gem with her own hand. She seemed to be trembling a little from excitement.

James obeyed. He took the stone and put it in the center of the leaf, and for a few moments there was only silence while his grandmother looked carefully at the gem on the dried leaf for a while. The children watched in puzzlement, wondering if the poor woman had gone gaga, when suddenly the bract began to turn its tips towards the center, as if trying to wrap the jewel, but due to its dryness, it began to crack, and little flakes detached from it, falling from the palm of the old woman’s hand.

Run, children, bring a glass jar with water!

The siblings reacted instantly, captivated by the excitement of the moment, and searched the house for an empty jam or jelly jar. They turned the kitchen upside down. Once they found one, they ran back to the sitting room where their startled grandmother was waiting anxiously.

Here, Grandma! she proffered.

Water, children! Quickly!

The little ones took the pitcher of water their grandmother used for daily rehydration, which was constantly refilled by the help to quench the lady’s extreme thirst, especially during her long hours of reading in front of the fire in her private parlor. They poured the water into the empty jar, which the old lady held in her hands, until it was full, spilling the rest on the bluish Persian rug that practically covered the entire floor of the small study.

Sorry, Grandma, Sasha apologized as she wet the floor.

It is only water, my love. Now watch carefully. The old woman promptly put the crumpled leaf and the gem within it, along with the remaining pieces of leaf, inside the jar, which she immediately closed with the lid, and stood silently observing its interior practically without blinking. After a few moments, James impatiently inquired, What are you looking at, Grandma?

Shhhhhh! Give it time, she said quietly. After a few seconds, the leaf began to hydrate and take shape with the loose pieces placed in the jar. It took on a lurid green color as the plant was brought back to life. After this, it began to rotate, slowly transforming itself into a soft silk wrapper, until the gem was completely sealed by the magical leaf. By the time it stopped moving, it was levitating in the water, right in the center of the jar, suspended between the surface and the glass bottom of the container. Then Grandma opened it and tried to reach inside to pull out what had formed inside, but the opening was too small, so she asked little James to pull it out for her.

The jewel had completely merged with the leaf, like a precious green stone, with a smooth texture and clear-cut appearance, as if it had been polished by a professional. The most curious thing is that after a while of being out of the water, it turned white, with the same brightness and luster of a pearl, although somewhat larger.

That’s it! the old woman announced.

That’s it? he inquired.

Yes.

Grandma got up, picked up the precious object and went to the desk in the sitting room. There she took a pile of papers, put them on the table, and placed the beautiful stone on top of them. A wonderful paperweight! she announced.

A paperweight? the children repeated, perplexed.

Grandma laughed, looking at the dumb expression on the children’s faces.

All this for a paperweight?! I don’t understand it at all... And the stories you were telling us? I thought they were true and that the stone came from those places you were telling us about, because it’s magic! How did you know that would happen with the leaf? And why did you keep it in a book? her granddaughter wanted to know.

Shhh. Shhhhh! Enough with all these questions, the grandmother interrupted them as she sat down exhausted in the rocking chair. You must never tell anyone about what happened. Do you understand? demanded the old woman.

But Grandma! the little boy rejoined.

You want answers. I understand. but to understand you must be ready. After saying this, the grandmother turned to them and, looking the little girl straight in the eye, asked, Do you think you are ready?

Yes, Grandma, I am! she exclaimed firmly.

What I am about to explain to you can never leave this room. You must promise me on your brother’s life.

Sasha looked at James and nodded her head.

Well, make yourself comfortable! But first, bring your grandma a pitcher of water.

Sasha ran downstairs to the kitchen, where she hurriedly filled the pitcher. Because she wanted to get back to the sitting room as quickly as possible, she slopped the water all over the corridors of the mansion. That huge house could easily frighten a girl of her age, especially at that late hour, and the immensity of the building with its high ceilings made it colder. It was as big as it was dark, and any person simply wanting to go to the bathroom could easily get lost.

Sasha’s every step created a small echo that resonated throughout the empty rooms of the mansion. Sometimes it took several seconds to hear the echo of her footstep, which gave the impression that there was another person at the other end of the hallway, hidden in the darkness. But the most terrifying area for the girl at that time of night was the great main staircase, not because of the sounds as she climbed it, but because of the energy that could be sensed in it; an energy sometimes as palpable as the prickling of the skin when immersed in icy water, which leaves it taut and the hairs standing on end for ages. Thus, if she had to go up it, Sasha made sure to do it in a hurry, holding her breath, so as to get to the second floor as soon as possible.

Once at the top, she would stop dead in her tracks and lean her back against the wall opposite her. She then looked to see if anyone or anything was following her, even though she knew that was impossible, seeing that it was all a figment of her imagination. But her fantasies and fears were uncontrollable. The panic they provoked in her could overwhelm her gullible self with the fear, or rather terror, of the dark, and she had to turn on the lights of the house, perfectly coordinating them with wherever she had to go, so as not to wander for a second in total darkness. After checking as usual that no one was following her, Sasha entered the room completely out of breath.

You look like you’ve run a marathon, my dear, her grandmother remarked when she saw her arrive.

I’m sorry, Grandma, it was too dark, Sasha confessed.

Someday, little one, you will see that fear as something so insignificant that you won’t even remember it. Walking down a hallway in the dark will be as easy as breathing.

The girl looked at her grandmother doubtfully. Clearly, neither her grandmother nor anyone else understood the suffering she went through daily; the inner fear she had to deal with twenty-four hours a day. She tried to control it in front of her family and guests. But it was a constant battle to strengthen her courage as she tried to overcome the daily agony of that horrible phobia which prevented her from enjoying a calm, normal life, and so altered her emotional state that it left her tormented to the point of sleepless nights. She used to go for days and even weeks without sleep, despite her young age. This was not the only phobia the poor girl had. She was also afraid of the water in the sea or lakes. She was afraid of their dark depths and of the unknown that lay in the abyss, since the worst of her fears was to be devoured by some sea creature or, worse still, to die by drowning. Poor Sasha felt completely misunderstood. So, she avoided talking about her fears and just tried to ignore them. But this only made her seem reticent, inhibited, and shy.

You were going to tell me a story, remember? the girl remarked after putting down the pitcher.

Oh, yes... My memory is not what it used to be, dear.

Grandma took a big gulp of water, gazing at the fire and, without taking her eyes off the flames, she began to speak.

A long, long time ago, long before you were born...

Where did the stone come from? James interrupted her, excitedly. What powers does it have? Why was it in the lake?

Don’t be in such a hurry, little one, everything in its own time.

Grandma looked out of the circular window and saw through the glass a sky covered with gray clouds. A storm is brewing, she thought. And after a brief silence, she continued her story with her eyes fixed on the window.

"There was a storm here when I was just a girl. A tremendous storm that made history worldwide, not just because of its magnitude, but because of the peculiarity of a mysterious hole that formed in its core, right over the lake where you were playing today.

"The storm was of such caliber that people in the area thought that the end of the world was coming. A more rational assumption was that the hole between the thick clouds covering our land presaged the arrival of a hurricane which, for the first time in history, would devastate the entire area. The truth is that it was something that had never been seen before. It was a kind of inverted tornado. I mean, the spiral of the cyclone, which forms its column, did not descend towards the earth, and affect the town. No, this one was different. Instead of making contact with the ground, it soared into infinity, out beyond the atmosphere and towards outer space, like a kind of tunnel or black hole. That helix of dark, gray, and white clouds, which covered the entire sky like a large Danish, spun around the enormous hole in the center that absorbed all the cloud within its reach. It expanded like a cotton blanket for miles and miles around until it reached the black hole at its epicenter, which the universe had created in some inexplicable way.

"It drifted over the town like a thick, heavy ceiling and the hole in it grew smaller and smaller, marking out the heart of the storm, which was right over what used to be the mansion’s beautiful, verdant grassland. It was not until after the end of that natural disaster that the beautiful lake first appeared and replaced the lovely meadow that once stood on our land. It is still here with us nowadays as a reminder of what happened that day.

"The dimensions that the storm attained were such that from its center it spread out over the great house of Courdeil and its environs, reaching the distant villages and even the capital. The colossal downpour, which was accompanied by a terrible gale that emitted a roar like that of a gigantic raging beast, was of such immensity that, despite being good English folk who are accustomed to the daily rains of our beloved England, we ran to shelter in our houses, fearing that the sky would fall on us. Squalls of rain, hail and blizzards swept through the area like a bloodthirsty raging typhoon, lashing people with such aggression that it tore their clothes and almost broke their skin.

"The whole town and the surrounding area were completely deserted. The entire population had immediately taken cover out of a fear so great that even the most skeptical took to praying that day.

"Crops were wiped out. Property was devastated. The horrible experience of those who were not fortunate enough to make it to safety in time left their loved ones bruised and scarred for life. It was a miracle that humans were only injured as, despite having a greater sensitivity to danger than we do, numerous animals in the area were not so fortunate. Many pets that were tied up or caged outdoors were abandoned to their fate when their owners fled in search of shelter.

"There is no justification for such cruelty. Even though people were terrified and had little time to think or react that day, there is no excuse for what they did. They just ran for cover to save their own skins without thinking of anyone but themselves. This is the most primeval of human instincts which is triggered in extreme circumstances; that is when the true spirit that dwells in each of us shows itself.

"But, during the worst moment, when the chaos erupted most severely over our land, out of all that selfish and cowardly mob, a vintage car appeared, the only vehicle on the road. In spite of the aggressiveness of the squall and the poor visibility, which had evicted all forms of life from the streets, it moved through that hellish environment, wobbling around, weaving crazy esses along the village roads and freeways, dodging every obstacle that was thrown in its path as it tried to maintain a steady course towards our mansion.

"Few of the locals, who heard the honking of the horn amidst the sound of the blizzard and thunder, imagined that the reckless driver might be the young Squire of Courdeil, as he was called in the village. Your grandfather. And so, while the masses stayed hidden, Charles, as he was called by those who knew him, enjoyed the adrenaline rush of the moment, for such opportunities did not come his way every day. An adventurous, thrill-seeking soul like his could not let that unique moment pass him by, not even for the safety of the damsel he was courting at the time and who was riding shotgun inside his car at that very moment.

"For the lad, that moment was an opportunity to put the young girl to the test. In those days, it was difficult to gauge how avidly and fearlessly a woman might engage in novel experiences; especially if her behavior was deemed inappropriate for a lady and, thus, risked her becoming a victim of gossip. Girls always have been, and even today still are, raised differently from siblings. They were not raised to think for themselves without fitting the profile created for females within the patriarchal system in which we live. The accepted wisdom is that girls are burdened with the regret that they have a sell by date for beauty and marriage; procreation and family; and having to choose between family and career. But for Charles, women were much more than that. He liked to surround himself with the most intelligent and extraordinary women in the world, as, according to him, nobody learned more than from these creatures, since, despite having the whole world against them, they dominated both the feminine and the masculine sides equally, and that, in his view, made them the strongest beings in the universe.

"You see, your grandfather wanted to change the world. But even someone as passionate and wealthy as he was, after so many attempts to fight against the inequality and injustices of this planet and its societies, felt he was beginning to lose hope. In the long run, this demotivated him, and a few months later, led him to a melancholy, which culminated in a devastating acceptance stemming from his fear that he would not find a woman who did not have the stigma engraved on her skin of believing that her inevitable destiny, in the society in which she lived, was to ‘fit in and please a man’. For this reason, trying to adapt to the circumstances, he stopped looking for that rebellious little jewel and started dating any girl, even though it was tremendously disheartening for him to see so much ingenuity and creativity thrown away because of the ridiculous expectations imposed on her by her own gender.

His anti-establishment stance aroused envy among the other men in the area as his progressive, open-mindedness, by which he empathized with the opposite sex, made him irresistible in the eyes of any girl or woman, not to mention his being cushioned by an incredible fortune, the old woman commented.

Grandma, the story... begged the little boy, uninterested in the topic.

Shut up, James, don’t be stupid! said Sasha, who understood the importance of what her grandmother was saying.

"Well, the couple in question were laughing inside that beautiful Bentley inherited from your great-grandfather, Charles’ father, whom he almost never saw during his lifetime, because he was always abroad or far away. So, when the storm intensified, your grandfather didn’t hesitate to accelerate, not caring that the automobile’s paint was beginning to chip and peel off until the bodywork was exposed. The gentleman was indifferent to his inheritance. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he did not appreciate the value of material things. Instead, he knew how to enjoy everything that he had within his grasp, without limits, the way it was or as it was offered to him at the time, and he did not know his father well enough to respect what had once been his. She recollected that he could be distant; a stranger even; and that he was isolated from his family. But above all, he was the kind of person who did not think long or hard before launching into whatever had caught his fancy. He was characteristically impulsive, both in word and deed, with a tremendous drive for good, but, unfortunately, also for bad.

But Charles, your grandfather, was all heart, with a soul charged with passion and devotion to his loved ones, said Grandma, cutting off the narration of the story as she clutched her chest in a grief provoked by the memory of the man she once loved.

The Mansion

Grandma grabbed the armrests of the armchair and exclaimed theatrically:

Cour!!! Courdeil!!!! For God’s sake, Charles!!!! she shouted. "That’s what the girl said, between nervous laughs, as she clung on to the arm of your young grandfather and buried her face in his shoulder so as to avoid looking out of the car window. She was terrified to be out in the great storm.

"Your grandfather tried to calm the young woman by telling her that they were almost home as he drove the hail damaged car through the heavy rain. He barely made it in one piece to the large gates, beyond which lay the mansion’s drive, which were chained and padlocked shut. With no one to open them, Charles had only one option left. ‘Hold on tight and don’t look straight ahead!’ he told her as he stomped on the gas and rammed the Bentley into the locked gates. When they didn’t give way, he backed the Bentley up and rammed the gates again. He repeated this several times before he managed to break through the gates, leaving part of the car’s skeleton exposed to the storm.

"Once inside the grounds, he skidded his way up the muddy drive and onto the sweep of gravel edged with lawn that surrounded the front of the mansion and brought the car to a halt just inches from the first step.

"Almost instantly, two maids rushed out of the front door with a wooden table over their heads, with a gap between them, and began calling: ‘Miss! Miss! Come under the table, please! Hurry, Miss! We’ll take you inside the house, where you’ll be safe!’

"The girl, who accompanied your grandfather as his passenger, jumped out of the car and ran, covering her head with her arms which were protected by white opera gloves that reached almost to her shoulders and thus protected her skin, until she reached the safety of the plank. ‘Take her inside, quick!’ Charles commanded from inside the car as the wood of the table began to crack from the tremendous blows it was receiving from the sharp pieces of ice thrown down on it from that infernal sky.

"The maids obeyed their master and immediately returned for him, but Charles had noticed with concern an overturned carriage at the side of the house. ‘What happened? What’s that carriage doing there? Is my mother all right?’ he asked them from inside the car as the storm cracked the windshield into a spider’s web pattern.

"‘Yes, sir, your mother is all right! We took the carriage out as a first resort to protect them, but the horse didn’t hold out long in the storm, even with leather armor, and ran away, overturning the carriage,’ said one of the maids with concern, because the horses were her responsibility as stable maid.

‘Which horse was it and where is it now?’ asked Charles.

"‘It’s Dumper, sir. He went into the forest, sir! I’m very sorry, but lucky, he will have been able to find shelter. He is a very strong horse, so he is most likely all right, but we won’t know for sure until the storm has passed. Now, please sir, you must take cover. Please come before the table breaks on us. It is too dangerous to be out here, sir,’ wailed one of the maids in distress.

"‘Thank you for your concern! Tell my mother I’ll be right back,’ replied the young man as he released the handbrake. ‘Go inside now. Quickly! That’s an order!’ Charles shouted to them.

"He drove what was left of the car, which now moved like a drunken snail, over the muddy grass in the direction of the forest that belonged to the manor of Courdeil. He hoped to find the animal safe and sound under one of the enormous canopies of the magnificent trees with which the forest abounded. Fortunately, the hail began to diminish, but a strange mist appeared out of nowhere and in a matter of moments everything was transformed.

"From the sky our lands must have looked like they were a watercolor, turning from faded green to a watery brown; a sad painting created by the droplets of the fine drizzle that was rinsing the ground. Meanwhile, the car kept lurching from point to point, leaving deep tire tracks in its wake. But Charles wasn’t the only one making his way as best he could through the crazy landscape. Several animals appeared in front of him along the way, including a herd of deer whose bodies were peppered with wounds from the heavy hailstones. Disoriented by the lights of the vehicle and the poor visibility, the poor things were running frantically. Despite having slowed right down, the downpour was making it difficult to drive over the soggy terrain. Eventually, the Bentley, or rather what was left of it, crashed into a mossy stone wall.

"In the meantime, the maids and the rest of the servants who looked after the Courdeil family waited anxiously inside the mansion along with the girl the young master had brought with him. She was desperately looking for her beloved through the cracked and rain-streaked windows through which nothing could be seen. Charles’s mother, who sat in solemn silence, watched her indifferently as she waited for her son. She had a chair next to a three-tiered fountain, which stood in the middle of the hall immediately behind the huge, weathered, wooden front door, which was decorated with irons studs that had rusted over time and were now an orange-brown color. The fountain was something to behold being fashioned out of artificial stones that imitated large turquoises and white shells that resembled magnolia leaves. Because of the unusual curvature in the shells’ design, the water meandered aesthetically around the delicate edges and made a considerable impression on visitors as they entered the house.

"The young woman sat on the edge of the fountain, in the center of the high-ceilinged circular hall with its large dome, enjoying the hypnotic sound of the rain falling on the cupola above her and watching the rivers of water sliding down its glass panes. At the sides of the hall, there were arches that led into the adjoining rooms. The walls between these arcades were adorned with paintings of large-leaved mahogany trees decorated with flowers and fruits that gave them a most exquisite decorative touch. This was enhanced by the real vines which, emerging from small crevices that opened between the floor and the walls, climbed between them. On both sides of the hall, there were wooden benches with the varnish worn off by the passage of time and their copper tacks coated in verdigris. They had been placed there to allow the magical ambience of the room to be fully admired.

"Behind the fountain, the curve of the back wall was interrupted by a grand staircase which, after a few lower steps, was blocked by a wall which forced it to divide into two flights of stairs that curved away in opposite directions to arrive at different places on the second floor. The walls of this magnificent entrance hall blended perfectly with the fountain, the dome, the arches, the plants, both painted and real, and the spectacular staircase.

"This curious wall that bisected the staircase was adorned on each side with a stone engraved to simulate a marble pearl that rested on a tongue of stone that hung down the wall, which in turn was surrounded by shells sculpted in plaster with radial striations in the shape of webbed fingers. When viewed from afar it looked like a massive marine shell; seen up close the detail and expression of these human extremities seemed as real as looking at one’s own fingers digging their nails into wet plaster.

"Now imagine this incredible architectural work of art in its entirety; from its glorious door, passing its fountain surrounded by arches and painted walls replete with authentic flora, to its unusual, curved staircases. The hall had clearly been designed to impress anyone who walked through the huge front door.

"Imagine how Charles’s mother would have felt sitting there listening to the torrential rain. She surely appreciated that she was uniquely privileged despite the dark mood which had engulfed the room because of the remorselessly ferocious storm; a storm which was so brutally violent that the servants became overwhelmed by it and knew that it would be ingrained in their memories for as long as they lived. In years to come, though, they would discover a hitherto unknown pleasure: the joy having survived against the odds.

"There were so many people there that they could not all fit in the room, so some of them went up the stairs to make more space. When those people looked over the ornate railings, they discovered an extraordinary, new perspective as, even though the day was dull, the light combined with the magnificent designs to give the illusion that they were not indoors but outside. If one were to look at the outside of the mansion, one would appreciate the tricks used by the architect to let more light into the interior of the house. Due to the high ceilings, a second set of circular windows was placed above those of the first floor, and it was through these that people standing on the stairs could view the grounds.

In this way, the building created the illusion that it had three floors instead of only two, as the exterior facade exhibited three rows of windows. The round windows of the central row were simple lights, subtly tinted with soft shades of bluish green, their grandmother told them.

Grandma, the mansion you’re talking about in your story, is it this house? asked the little girl.

Yes, dear, but everything I have described to you is practically forgotten now. The paint is worn, and the plants are dead. The façade and the round windows are hidden under the ivy and other plants that have covered the outside of the house. But let’s get on with the story, Grandma suggested, and continued her narration using the different voices.

"‘Where is Charles?’ your great-grandmother asked.

"‘The young master didn’t want to come in and went in search of his horse,’ one of the maids answered. ‘Do you want us to go and look for him?’

"‘No, no. Stay here and bring some tea to... Excuse me, dear, what’s your name?’ Charles’s mother asked, looking uncertainly at the young woman her son had brought home.

"‘Sara, ma’am. My name is Sara,’ replied the girl with a curtsey, trying to conceal her excitement as she introduced herself to the mistress of Courdeil.

"‘All right, Sara, sit down and have a nice, hot cup of tea. And I’ll have a cup too, please,’ the lady instructed the maids. Then, noticing that both the poor girls were soaked through, continued, ‘Ah, you had better go and change your clothes first or you’ll catch your deaths of cold.’

‘"Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am,’ the two maids replied before scurrying away.

"‘Don’t worry about my son, really. Everything will be fine,’ she told Sara reassuringly. ‘I trust him completely. He’s impulsive, but he has my intuition and his father’s instincts; I’m sure he’ll be alright. As soon as the storm abates, he’ll be back, and if not, we’ll go look for him. I would know how to find my son even if he were a needle in a haystack,’ your great-grandmother explained with a mischievous smile as she closed one eye and peered with the other as if looking through an imaginary magnifying glass, to reassure those present by her confidence and composure.

"So, while the maids were getting changed, other servants fetched sandwiches and a tea tray set for two.

"‘No. This isn’t right. Prepare tea and sandwiches for everyone and serve it on the big table,’ my mother-in-law ordered them.

"‘But, ma’am, you have a guest,’ one of her maids objected.

"‘I’m sure Sara will be more than delighted to have tea at the same table as the servants and the stable maids on a day as exceptional as this. Besides, in this house, whoever works for me not only respects the house and its routines but is also part of the family. That’s what living together is all about. And here we know everything about everyone, don’t we?’ remarked your great-grandmother, looking at Betty, the maid who had brought the tea. Betty responded with a subtle wink at Sara as she picked the tray up again with an elegant delicacy.

"‘In this house we are a family, a real one, Miss Sara,’ said Betty, addressing the guest, who was perplexed by the maid’s boldness.

"‘Excuse me, Betty. It was Betty, wasn’t it? What did you mean by a real family?’

"The maid stopped gracefully and, giving a gentle toss of her head, turned to the young woman.

"‘From woman to woman, sometimes a heart and mind can be more attached than blood ties. I think you get my drift since you and Charles seem to be very close, in spite of your, um... differences.

"Sara was quite taken aback hearing the maid mention the master of the house by his first name and, on top of that, address her with such confidence, for she was of the upper-class and a guest.

"‘Ma’am, I vehemently believe that you should curb your maid’s attitude, or she may end up hoodwinking you, or worse, finishing up with your son in her bed. It would not be the first time that a servant girl has used a bastard child as a way to get set up for life,’ Miss Sara said, visibly shaken.

"But we must return to Charles. By now the fog had thickened in the forest so that not even the car’s headlights were able to penetrate it but, despite the lack of visibility, Charles was vainly trying to start-up the Bentley after the collision. Although the hail had mercifully stopped, the sky was still weeping its torrents, and the thick, black clouds made it seem like midnight. Undeterred, your grandfather got out of the car and started walking blindly through the dense fog, which seemed to thin the deeper he went into the forest. Confounded by this, Charles looked at the sky through the treetops and discovered a curious nucleus set in the center of that stormy spiral, a hole surrounded by a cluster of pink clouds that spread with the slight movement of the helix. And as he watched, the spiral started changing color, going from white to gray and then to almost black, like a giant worm coiling up on itself and covering the whole sky.

"‘Damn it!’ Charles shouted when he stumbled and hit his forehead against one of the trees. ‘Brrrrfffffff. Hhihhhhhhhh,’ whinnied the horse in response to the sound of his master’s voice. ‘Dumper!’ Charles cried in astonishment as he rubbed his forehead which still smarted from the blow.

"Then he noticed that the fog had almost dispersed in that patch of woodland, which allowed him to look round, and see the horse, its leather armor lacerated by the storm, no more than five feet away from him. But something didn’t add up. As he drew closer to the animal, he noticed that there seemed to be a line between where he was and the place where Dumper was standing. Something strange was going on, but he couldn’t figure out what. So, trusting his instincts, he walked slowly through the rain toward the steed. But when he stretched out his arm towards the horse, he was astonished to discover that it seemed to have passed through a curtain of water, the other side of which was free of rain. He boldly strode forward into the area where the wily Dumper awaited him, which was completely dry.

"Turning all the way around, he observed in amazement that the outer fringes of the grove were encircled by a wall of droplets which separated it from the rest of the woods. ‘It is just as if the strange spiral above me is creating different rotating microclimates as it changes color,’ he mused.

"Suddenly, something knocked into his back, propelling him through the rain curtain, which soaked him again.

"‘Dumper, my friend,’ Charles crooned as he stroked the horse and removed the leather armor which, being saturated, seemed to weigh a ton. But when he tried to get on the animal’s back, he discovered that his feet had sunk deep into the ground. ‘Whoa, boy, hold still,’ he said soothingly to Dumper as he tried to free himself from the sticky mud and remove it from his shoes, but the weight of the water and the remains of mud on his clothes prevented him from moving with any agility.

"At last, after a long time struggling against the loam and covered from head to foot with dirt, Charles had an idea. Clinging on to the harness, he gave Dumper a slap on the haunches, which made him bolt, pulling your grandfather out of the ground like a carrot. As the animal galloped away, Charles struggled to keep his balance, but when eventually the mount slowed, he was able to bring him under control.

Looking up at the sky, he discovered that the hole he had seen earlier had grown much larger and deeper, revealing a pink funnel in its interior, which curiously narrowed as it rose into the firmament.

"‘Come on, my friend, let’s see what the hell this marvel up there is.’ Advancing at a slow pace because of the muddy ground, they headed towards the center of that bizarre hub. Suddenly, something cold brushed their faces. Out of the corner of his eye Charles glimpsed something silky white floating through the air. It took him a moment or two to realize what it was. ‘Snow. My friend, it’s snow! Isn’t it fascinating? But how is it possible?’ he laughed awestruck that it could be snowing in the middle of June, as he held out his hand to catch the thickly falling flakes.

"By now, chilled to the bone, they had arrived at the epicenter of the storm. It sat right over the vast grassy clearing which lay in a hollow in the middle of the woods. Charles had known it his whole life and Bill kept his tools in a shed there. But what had that very morning been a meadow, was now an enormous ice shelf. The immense amount of rain and hail that had fallen had first flooded it and then the plummeting temperatures had frozen it. He earnestly hoped that Bill hadn’t been in his shed and wondered what he would make of it when he saw it the way it was now.

"‘I don’t know which I prefer,’ he quipped sarcastically, to evade the disquiet that was beginning to bubble up in him.

The Servants

"Far from the ice, the huge door of the mansion burst open and a blast of wind laden with rain flooded the entire entrance.

‘Charles?!’ Miss Sara shouted.

"But it wasn’t Charles. It was a gigantic, thickset, colored man, soaked and smeared with mud from head to toe, who blocked the doorway with his massive frame.

‘Bill!’ exclaimed Betty, the sassy and sensuous maid, who was petite and pretty.

‘Go to him, my dear,’ said her mistress. Betty gratefully ran to give Bill a hug.

‘I’m fine, my precious,’ he reassured her, treating her with the utmost gentleness.

‘Bill, go and change, please, and then join us for tea,’ your great-grandmother ordered him, and then added, ‘You must be freezing.’

"‘Ma’am, if I told you what I just saw, you wouldn’t believe me, and I know you would want to set out right now to see it for yourself,’ he replied. His voice was deep and gruff, but also warm.

"‘How can the lady go out in this weather? Are you crazy?’ demanded the young guest in rebuke.

"‘Oh, no, my dear young lady,’ your great-grandmother replied with a smile. ‘This gentleman is the person I would trust most with my life.’

"‘But, Mrs. de Courdeil, though I understand that living here alone may make you feel the need for a family to protect you, a woman in your position surely has a duty to maintain the distinction between rank and service. It is my opinion that your staff are far too over familiar and are overstepping the bounds of decorum. If I may be candid, you should not tolerate that kind of behavior, least of all, public displays of affection between staff, such as we have just witnessed, when they are supposed to be working,’ Sara, who was horrified, rebuked. ‘From the lack of wedding rings on their fingers, it is evident that they are not even married!’ she continued before turning to Betty and Bill. ‘I suggest that if you wish to continue in your employment, you should restrain yourselves, and show more respect for the lady of the house, her son and her guests,’ Sara counseled.

"‘If I could, I would marry Betty in the blink of an eye,’ the big man exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry to have bothered you, miss,’ he apologized with his head bowed. ‘But if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and change now.’

"‘If you really love and respect her, you should propose to her and put an engagement ring on her finger and not leave it at mere lip service,’ replied Sara getting up from the table.

"‘Goodness gracious, Bill, haven’t you noticed?’ Betty said shyly, leaning her head with a sweet smile on the man’s huge shoulder.

"‘You can’t notice what you can’t see, my love. When a beautiful flower appears before you, you only appreciate its beauty, not its roots.’

"Betty, on hearing those sweet words, looked at Bill with moist eyes, and gave him a delicate kiss on the cheek.

"‘Oh, for God’s sake, you’re so deluded. Why do you let yourself be fooled by empty words that are carried away by the wind? Have a bit of dignity and control yourself instead of flaunting yourself like a hussy in front of everyone. Have a little self-respect, can’t you, and try to behave more like a lady,’ scolded the indignant guest.

"‘Aren’t you cold, Bill?’ his mistress asked, changing the subject.

"‘No, ma’am, but I think I’d better go and change, I wouldn’t want to spoil your carpet,’ he apologized.

"‘Oh, don’t worry about the carpet. It can be cleaned or even replaced, but moments like that are priceless, you know. Now, please sit next to this wonderful young lady who is sheltering with us on this most inhospitable day. The poor dear is worried about Charles,’ explained your great-grandmother.

"So, Bill took a seat next to Sara, but his body was so large that when he sat down it rubbed against the young lady’s, wetting her with his huge forearm. And if that wasn’t enough of an outrage for the young lady, when he tried to fit his legs under the table, he ended up spilling tea all over Sara’s dress.

"‘Mrs. de Courdeil, I don’t think this attitude, which encourages your servants to sit at the same table as you, enjoying tea and cake in the company of your guests, is at all appropriate. They should be working; that is their place in a grand house like this,’ Sara complained.

"‘Excuse me, my dear, I may be getting old, but I’m not senile yet. The attitude I adopt in my own home is surely for me to decide, is it not? Your generation seems to hold very conservative ideas,’ she observed.

"‘Oh, no, madam, you are far from elderly, but by not keeping your distance from your servants, you lose their respect. Familiarity breeds contempt in my experience. Worse still, you could lose the respect of the other eminent families. You must know that the repute of a family like yours, which is recognized far and wide, can be lost through the slightest whiff of scandal, damaging centuries of good reputation,’ she corrected.

"‘You are right, Sara. What I do with my life in my own house is everyone’s business as is my inherited fortune or my position in this house. Clearly, what I do or don’t do is of great interest to society,’ replied Mrs. de Courdeil firmly.

"‘Yes, madam, that’s why when I met Charley, detecting his good heart, and seeing the great interest he had in me, I thought I could help him to adapt to the social mores and become as refined as his ancestry demands. In fact, I can help you both. You would benefit from abiding by the accepted rules of behavior, which would require a few small changes in the running of the house. I assure you that society will speak well of you, not just to your face, but also behind your back,’ the young woman argued enthusiastically, trying to somehow get closer to her beloved’s mother and away from Bill’s damp, muscular body.

"‘You clearly misunderstood me when I said that what I do with my life and in my house is everyone’s concern. My lifestyle is my own affair. I live by my own principles, not those imposed imperiously from on high, which the majority only adhere to out of fear and ignorance and for the sake of appearance. But I tell you, they will break those precious rules fast enough if they think they won’t be found out. And they have the audacity to criticize me and the way I run my house and demean these good people. The hypocrites! The way they look at things shows not just deficient intellect but a lack of empathy, driven by fear of the unfamiliar or, more aptly, fear of difference. That is precisely why they need people like us in this house, who see beyond the machinations of the invisible string-pullers that try to run the world like a puppet show.’

"Miss Sara was stupefied and shocked at these words. She stared open-mouthed at Mrs. de Courdeil, who was just getting into her stride.

"‘Apparently, in this ovine world, it is the person who has good intentions, is tolerant and considerate, even to those who are really unpleasant, who is considered the miscreant, and not those who impose their views on others, unwittingly spreading cruelty and injustice. They hide behind a mask of respectability but are filled with jealousy and hatred. Believing their own lies does not absolve them of their sins.

"‘All minds, Sara, are at the mercy of preconceived and fixed ideas that restrict free-thinking and encourage compliance. But some of us have learnt how to rid ourselves of those chains and think and act for ourselves without harming anyone.

"The servants watched the young guest intensely as she endured the old lady’s tirade. Sara, whose hands were trembling as she lifted her cup to her mouth, could barely swallow the tea she had been sipping.

"‘The lack of self-control and secretly doing the very things one publicly denounces, is, as it always was, endemic. We live under a thick veil that clouds the vision of your dear society, so that all commune in a mutual benightedness. Everyone adulterates the truth, claiming that they alone are authentic, when it is all a deception. We all know with which foot each person limps, even though they deny it. The populace is manipulated from the cradle to the grave so that, even if they become aware of this farce, the status quo is so deeply ingrained as to be accepted as altogether normal.’

"Young Sara swallowed saliva as she set the teacup down on the table before interjecting.

"’I beg your pardon, Mrs. de Courdeil, I didn’t mean to offend you. It may be that something as simple as a modification of your servants’ attire would improve their attitude and put them in their place. While it is very gratifying to see two women employed as stable maids, it is clear that a man could do that work better. And, as for the way your maid Betty dresses, one could almost mistake her for a guest or even your son’s fiancée. Surely, dressing her more appropriately would benefit the smooth running of this