Blue Aspen Page 3

  The only place in the house I didn’t like was the solarium. I would have loved it, but it was empty. There was not one single plant. The fountain in the center, if you could call it a fountain, was more of a pond and it was completely dry. The sight of it made me sad, what a place it could have been!

  "Where are the plants?" I asked.

  "Well, when the house was being built, I thought I would like a solarium. But, I have discovered that I have a very black thumb. Plants just don’t respond to me. I’ve tried and tried, but I guess, maybe I just don’t have the right touch or temperament for it. I would love for it to be full and alive. Someday I hope." He looked around the room ruefully.

  "Could I try my hand at it?" I asked. "I’ve never had the chance to grown anything."

  "Sure, although plants are hard to come by this time of year. I’ll see what I can get delivered. Let’s get out of here, it's cold."

  I secretly wanted to see if there were any traces of Vivian anywhere in the house. What had my uncle kept to remember her by? I thought that maybe from time to time I might come across something of hers or an occasional snapshot. I was surprised when my uncle showed me to the room that was dedicated to her. I followed Uncle Jack down an empty hallway that had a single door at the end.

  "This is a very special room," he said, opening the door. "This is my gallery."

  I was very curious to see the art. The room was circular. There were no windows, and just one other door exactly opposite the one I had just entered. There were large watercolors hung and lighted in gallery fashion. A large glass case containing jewelry and a beautifully detailed kimono hung on the wall. This room was quite an enigma. I was puzzled. I looked over at my uncle who was looking back at me in a sheepish, embarrassed kind of way.

  "I’m sure this seems strange," he said. "These are Vivian’s things. She was quite an artist, don’t you think?"

  "Oh, yes…Indeed. Quite an artist." I said, bemused.

  It was a shrine. I tried not to be judgmental, but I didn’t think this was healthy. How could you recover from a loss when you created a place to worship it? I was intrigued, however. How could I not be? I wanted to know as much about Vivian as I could. I walked around the room looking at her art. She had been very talented with her brush. I looked at the jewelry in the glass case for some considerable time, hypnotized by the sparkling. You would know by looking in this case that she had come from a very wealthy family. I had only seen such things in magazines and movies. I really wanted to put some of these things on, but there was no way I was going to ask for permission. My uncle came over and stood beside me.

  "What is your favorite?"

  "That one," I said, pointing to a diamond and opal ring.

  To my delight, Uncle Jack opened the case and took out the ring.

  "Put it on," he commanded, handing it to me.

  I gasped. "Oh, no, I couldn’t."

  Uncle Jack waived away my feeble protest and grabbed my left hand, pushing the beautiful thing up my ring finger. It fit perfectly. I gasped again looking at it on my hand. This was too much!

  "That was one of her favorites," he said. "She wore it every day."

  "Really?"

  "Oh yes." He smiled, looking thoughtfully at my hand. He was remembering something. "You are a lot like her in some ways…I think that she would have wanted you to have it."

  "Oh…I don’t know. It’s so special. What if I lost it?"

  He snorted and gave me a little hug. "Dulcee, does it make you happy?"

  "Very," I admitted.

  "Don’t worry about losing it. Just be careful."

  "I won’t ever take it off," I promised. The ring now felt heavy on my hand. Obligation.

  "Sometimes, if you can’t find me, I’m probably in here. If I am, please don’t disturb me."

  "I understand," I said.

  Uncle Jack yawned and looked down at his watch. "Wow, where did the time go? We better head up to bed."

  We left the gallery and went upstairs. "One thing you will notice at night is the silence," he said over his shoulder as I followed him. "It doesn’t seem so acute during the day but at night it’s so thick it seems like you can touch it. Don’t be alarmed by any noises at night, the house makes its own noises as it settles. We have an excellent security system, so don’t let your imagination run away with you. We are very safe here. There is no one for at least twenty miles, maybe more. In the winter, anyone out at night wandering around would freeze to death. So there you are."

  "I hope I will be able to sleep tonight. I’m so excited to be here. I don’t know if I will be able to relax. I think it will take some time to get used to living in a house this big."

  Uncle Jack chuckled. "I’m sure. It took me a long time to get used to it, but I have always felt safe here. I’m sure you will too."

  When we finally arrived at the catwalk with our bedrooms, I realized that all the lights were still on and the curtains were open.

  "Goodnight," Uncle Jack said, heading off to his room.

  "Wait a minute. Don’t we need to turn all the lights off and close the curtains?"

  "Oh no," he said. "I have everything connected to a control panel in my room, the lights, the windows, the fireplace, and the security system. It lets me turn them on or off from my room and it lets me know if I forgot anything. Cool, huh?"

  "Yeah, way cool."

  "I’ll show you how to work it tomorrow. I’m too tired to right now." He walked into his room and shut the door.

  I did likewise.

  I was way too hyped to go to bed, even though I was exhausted. So, I decided to take a shower. I never knew showering could be fun. On average, my lengthiest showers were about five minutes. Get in, get clean, and get out. Just a means to an end.

  That was before I had my own spa. The various rituals of personal hygiene were now my new favorite pastimes. The tremendous glass box that was the shower created a waterfall overhead, instead of a light rain. The luxury was too enjoyable to rush. I found myself unintentionally giggling in delight at the feel and aroma of the expensive soap. It was only when I could no longer stand the feeling of my wrinkled fingers and toes that I exited the shower. Once I had combed my wet hair, I threw on my new robe and left the bathroom.

  It was at that moment that I was fully confronted by the silence. I never would have imagined that the absence of sound could become an entity, but it was, and it held me in its merciless grasp. I reached my hand out in front of me and ran my fingers through it, as one might tease the surface of the water.

  "You won’t get the better of me, Silence," I whispered. "You may have a terrifying face, but one word from me sends you packing. I can break you whenever I want to."

  And now that we had that settled, I felt better. I turned on some soft music, sending the silence into exile. After I was dressed in my worn pajamas, I turned out the light. It was then that I discovered two of the magical properties of snow…First, when moonlight shines on snow, a pale blue light is reflected. That might not sound very special but unless you have seen it, you cannot understand. This reflected blue light is celestial, haunting, and it stirs your spirit. And second, snow and silence are lovers. As snow falls, it absorbs sound.

  I pulled open my sheer curtains to let the blue light in more fully, before climbing into bed. The light bounced off all the white surfaces of the room. I think it did something to my brain. Looking through half-closed eyes at the alien world outside, I began to feel that though I was still afraid of it, the snow, the forest, and yes, even the silence, were all in my blood; somehow a part of me.

  I fell asleep with only a minimal amount of fear. How long was I asleep before I heard it? Did I hear it at all? Was I dreaming? Surely I was.

  "Dulcee…"

  It was only a whisper. I lay perfectly still, holding my breath. Through the years, I had developed the ability to sense someone else’s presence while I was asleep. A survival trait that had proven useful with the amount of men my mother had allowed to
live with us. Now, was I even awake? I didn’t feel afraid. The amount of light coming in through the windows was more than enough to see everything in my room. I listened…Nothing. No one was there. I was dreaming.

  "Soon…"

  I sat up, startled. My eyes darted to all the shadows throughout the room, as the whisper echoed around me. It was not my uncle’s voice. There was no one in my room. The feeling of another presence evaporated like vapor. I sank back on my pillows and closed my eyes. I was dreaming.

  My bare windows presented an early morning problem, really flippin' early problem. I awoke in a state of groggy, mental disorder. For a split second, I had no idea where I was. The sunlight, blasting through my windows, was burning black spots in my retina.

  Once my feet hit the floor, I was fully awake. It had become cold in my room. The snow was falling lightly, the sun was shining; it was beautiful. I looked around my room with adoring eyes. It was still as much a novelty as it was yesterday.

  The smell of bacon was wafting into my room from under the door, and my stomach growled. I went down stairs and found Uncle Jack in the kitchen. He was wearing flannel pajamas covered by a faded green robe, and his sandy hair was a splendid bird’s nest. He smiled at me over his frying pan.

  "Good morning," he said. "How did you sleep?"

  "Oh, fine. My bed is super. I actually dreamed. I usually never sleep deep enough to dream."

  "Really?" he asked, disbelieving.

  "Really. I’m a mild insomniac. I might dream twice a year. Most of the time, I only surface sleep."

  "I might have something to help you sleep. You know, I hadn’t even thought about finding you a doctor. I guess I will have to. We could take a trip to Denver to see a sleep specialist, if you need to."

  "Uhh…Well…I…" I had said too much. "I have aversions to doctors… and pills… and Denver."

  Uncle Jack laughed, I mean really laughed, hard. He handed me a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, shaking his head, unable to stop chuckling. I stabbed at my breakfast, trying to think of something to say to distract my uncle from the unintentional mirth I had caused him.

  "Hey, Uncle Jack, how often do you have to go grocery shopping?"

  It worked. He was still chortling but the question distracted him.

  "Oh, it depends, more in the summer. I buy in bulk and I have a massive freezer. Look." He walked across the kitchen to a heavy steel door I hadn’t yet noticed. It was the kind of freezer you would find in the kitchen of a restaurant. He pulled the door open so I could see the contents. It didn’t seem like anything I needed to be worried about, I had used the question as misdirection anyway.

  "Have you ever been so snowed in you couldn’t get food?" I asked.

  "Well, a few years back we had a really hard winter, and I had been a little neglectful with my shopping. I was concerned but that was all. I have never been in danger of starving, if that’s what you want to know."

  "Yeah," I said, grinning. "That’s what I wanted to know."

  "If worst came to worst, we could go ice fishing in the lake. Now that you've seen the freezer, are you still worried?"

  "Not really," I said, digging into my food.

  "I go shopping in the winter about once every other month. Which reminds me, do you need anything? We can go into town if you would like to."

  "I think I might need some new clothes," I said. "I don’t have a good coat or boots. I just have some ratty old sneakers. I don’t think they’ll last long in the snow."

  Uncle Jack held up his hand to silence me. "Say no more. You shall have everything you desire. Do you want to go today or tomorrow?"

  "Tomorrow, please. I want to get better acquainted with the house today."

  "No problem, we can go in the morning."

  "So, what are we going to do today?" I asked. "Did you have any plans?"

  "I’m afraid I have a full day today. You’ll have to get acquainted with the house on your own."

  "Oh," I said dully. I thought he was retired. I was used to being on my own, but I was a little let down that I wasn’t going to spend time with him today. I had really enjoyed his company yesterday and I was looking forward to getting to know him. I got over it quickly. We had lots of time.

  After breakfast, Uncle Jack went to his office to work. I had no idea what kind of work he could be doing. I didn’t ask him about it and he didn’t volunteer any information. After I dressed, I wandered around looking for the library. I needed a map. I hadn’t been paying attention when Uncle Jack had been leading me around last night, I was too preoccupied with what I was seeing to make mental notes of how to get where I wanted to go.

  At one point I was sure I was on the wrong floor. I was beginning to get frustrated and (although I didn’t want admit it to myself) a little afraid. The house, when shared with another person, was a mall of delights. Now that I was alone, the house was menacing. I growled in frustration. I thought I was in the right area, but then found myself in a bare room. I sat on the floor, trying to collect myself. I had never felt this alone before, but if I let myself get worked up, it would only take me longer to get my bearings.

  I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten, and then I had an idea. I left the bare room and began looking for an intercom. I found one in a room that was basically empty, with the exception of some boxes stacked against the wall. I examined the small plastic panel for a moment before pushing the page button.

  "Uncle Jack?" I waited. Maybe this intercom didn’t work. Then it beeped.

  "Yes? What do you need, Dulcee?"

  "I need directions, I’m lost. Help."

  Uncle Jack’s voice came back over the speaker, laughing. "Okay, where are you, and where are you trying to get to?"

  "I’m in a bare room with a few boxes stacked against the wall. I’m trying to get the library."

  "Okay. Look out the window, can you see the lake?" he asked.

  I looked. "No. No lake, just trees."

  "All right, leave that room and go to your right, you’ll go past a long row of windows. Turn left, and go down the stairs. Got that?"

  "Yeah. I think so. What will I do once I get the bottom of the stairs?"

  "Nothing. Just stay there until I come get you. I’ll be right there."

  I did what he told me to do.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I grew a little annoyed. Why did one man need so much excess? Three large families could have lived comfortably in this house. Actually, it wasn’t the excess that bothered me, I loved the excess. It was the vast open space everywhere. I paced in a circle, waiting for Uncle Jack. Then I looked carefully at what was around me so I could find my way better the next time I wandered to this part of the house. Maybe the only thing that would alert me to where I was would be the scarcity of things. This area of the house looked like the last few hours of a moving day. A moment later, Uncle Jack poked his head around the corner.

  "Hey there. So, you found your way to no man’s land." He smiled.

  "The Bermuda Triangle is more like it," I grumbled.

  I was paying attention this time as I followed him back to areas I recognized. He pointed me in the right direction once we reached his office, and I found the library easily.

  Once in the glorious room, all my muscles relaxed. I inhaled deeply. The wonderful smell of books always made me euphoric. I began by walking the circumference of the room, lightly running my hand along the book spines, before I set my mind to a task. I wanted to research plants that would grow well in the solarium.

  I used the large table in the center to place the heavy research books I found. When my eyes became strained from reading, I would get lost in just looking around at things, like the ceiling or the carvings on the sides of the bookcases. I was fascinated by the level of cleanliness, being able to see my reflection in the high polished surface of the table, for instance. I made lists of things I needed, and the names of plants I wanted to try to grow.

  I took breaks from the research and walked around, making
mental notes of novels I wanted to read. At noon, I was startled once again by the intercom beeping loudly. Uncle Jack was calling me to lunch. I left my research where it was and went to the kitchen.

  "Hey! Working hard?" Uncle Jack smiled when I came into the kitchen.

  "I’ve been researching plants for the solarium."

  "Oh good. Are you doing okay on your own?" he asked.