“I want you to feel at home during your stay here, roam and do as you please, everything in the Apion manor is at your disposal. If you need anything, the servants will tend to you and fulfill any of your desires.” Miss Apion welcomes.
Lele Ballo stands alongside her two other siblings in a horizontal line before the open, elaborate oak double door of the Apion manor. Strings of servants flow into the manor with Lele and her brothers' luggage in their grasps and carrying them up the grand, crimson carpeted staircase that elegantly swivels skywards as they all disappear down the second landing of the four-story manor.
Miss Apion smiles warmly whilst Mr. Apion evaluates them an assessing look. They both stare down at the two adolescent children and the one youngling that grips his sister’s hand like he's attached to it.
“Hilda.” Miss Apion beckons. With a flourish of fluttering her gloved fingers, an elderly, stone-faced woman appears by her stand, her arms clasped behind her back and her posture rigid. A woman too old to unlearn her ways and ways of thinking and yet still young enough to execute her beliefs and the predominant ones of those beliefs is discipline and order.
“Hilda manages the servants and oversees the manor and all of its affairs. She will look after you as well if you need anything. You need only to ask, if not from me then Hilda.” Miss Apion explains.
“There are only two rules that we ask you to adhere to.” Mr. Apion announces. He takes a small step forward, his black embroidered shoe echoing a dominant thud on the deep brown, furnished wooden floor.
“We shall all dine together and you will all dress accordingly. My sister has taken the liberty of tailoring evening attire for you all, for dinner. You will find all the outfits in your separate chambers, along with your luggage.” Mr. Apion expounds. His eyes scanning the faces of his young guests, his steely eyed look piercing and aloof.
“If the designs are not to your liking, the dressmaker and the tailor can always redesign it to your preferred taste.” Miss Apion mindfully adds.
“The final rule is that you can roam free on the manor grounds and in it, the east and the west wing you can explore in your leisure. There is only one room out of bounds, and this is my workplace on the third landing. My job implores secrecy.” Mr. Apion instructs.
“Why? Do you work for the government… like a spy or a secret agent?” Joshua inquisitively asks. Mr. Apion’s face uncomfortably cracks into an amused grin.
“No… but just like them, I help people. I help save them and my workplace has many confidential items, for my eyes only.” Mr. Apion vaguely clarifies. Joshua slowly nods his head by the show of his lips curling and eyes darting, his avid curiosity burning to know more, but he retrains himself.
“I hope you enjoy your stay. A banquet will be held in the dining hall, in honor of your arrival promptly at six. In the meantime, Hilda will show you to your quarters.” Miss Apion smiles. She tersely nods her head to Hilda in gesture and Miss and Mr. Apion exchange meaningful looks and stalk down the open-floor foyer, vanishing down one corridor. The three young guests look to Hilda expectantly and she audibly exhales an averse sigh, tilting her head to the side.
“If you will follow me.”
Hilda begins to unhurriedly usher them towards the majestic spiral staircase. Lele’s hand, damp with moisture that unpleasantly clings to her palm. However, Joshua is unfazed by it. His eyes raptly wonders at the medieval architecture of the Apion manor. First, his eyes look to the heavens where the graceful dome ceiling that hoists up an extravagant, luminescent chandelier that is adorned with shimmering crystals and diamonds. Joshua’s wide eyes glide downwards to the floor to ceiling, awning windows made from argon glass that resplendently looks out beyond and into the lushly manicured gardens that gleam a perfect, healthy green, decorated with scarlet roses. Joshua’s traveling gaze moves along to the centuries-old, painted family portraits, interspaced with sculpted busts.
Hilda leads the children up the stairs; Lele’s eyes drift over the intricate, iron design of the polished railing beside them, sumptuously webbed all the way to their stop, at the second landing.
Atticus’s eyebrows knit together, his disdain-filled eyes skim over the furnished oak passages, a labyrinth of corridors that seem to endlessly rove, the deeper they voyage.
“Jeez, how big is this mansion?” Atticus queries, his face curdling with an unimpressed expression. Hilda barely flicks him a look over her shoulder and grudgingly responds.
“The Apion manor has stood for over two centuries, and countless generations have dwelled in it. There are twenty-five bedchambers and fifteen bathrooms in this manor.” Hilda educates. Atticus releases an exaggerated whistle, and a wolfish smile spreads across his face.
“I could throw one hell of a party here.”
Shortly the siblings are shown to their separate quarters, where Hilda shows them their custom-designed outfits for supper, all kept in large oak wardrobes. Despite that, they have their chambers; the siblings choose to reside together in one bedroom, for the meanwhile.
“So… we are allowed to play outside, right?” Joshua hesitantly queries. Hilda stiffly bops her head in response.
“The stables house four prized horses that have already lived their glory days, you may ride them if you wish... just do not stray too far from the manor,” Hilda advises. Lele frowns and quizzically narrows her eyes.
“Why?”
“Children tend to vanish when they venture too far from home. I would hate for any of you to end up like the lost heirs.” Hilda jests. A stale, harmless gag meant to amuse, a comical reference to old wives' tales, folklore and myths alike about boogieman and monsters under the bed.
Tales that scare children into submission and the story of the lost heirs is the story that parents of WavesPort use, to keep their children in line and in check. No-one in WavesPort knows the true story of the lost heirs, but the essence of it inspired fear, which was all they needed to know.
“The lost… heirs?” Lele questioningly repeats. A ghoulish glint of excitement flickers in Hilda’s dull eyes.
“The lost heirs, twins that ventured into the woods. Rumors speculate that it was to visit their favorite spot by the lake which they visited religiously, but one day… they never just returned.” Hilda spookily elaborates. Lele’s lips part, but before she can draw breath, Hilda snappily interjects.
“I must go, much to prepare for the banquet this evening. Be good, children.” Hilda stridently exclaims. She then rotates around and hastily exits Lele’s chambers and closes the door behind her with a soft click. Lele spins around to look at her brothers, awkwardly sitting at the foot of the canopy, queen-sized bed. Joshua dazedly kicks his feet up and down in sheer boredom. Atticus sits slanted forward, his elbows resting on his knees, with his phone in his grasp and his eyes inspecting his screen with a perplexed look about his face.
“Great, my reward for graduating from high school is being shipped off to some small town and to our… distant aunt or uncle… I mean, how are we even related to them?” Lele hysterically rambles.
“We never heard of them before and now, mother decides it’s important for us to know our family and abandon us with them for the entire summer break!”
Joshua looks up at his frenzied sister and nonchalantly shrug’s.
“At least they're super-rich, this house is the size of a castle and did you hear the strict-looking lady? They have horses!” Joshua optimistically enthuses.
“I know it’s cool, Josh. I’m just confused… we have never heard of these… Apion people, distant relatives, and mom just happily hand us over. I mean, they could be serial killers or something.”
“Lele, can you please stop being melodramatic for one moment in your life? Please.” Atticus pleads. He finally lifts his face from the screen and casts her with a jaded look.
“If you ever paid attention to anything other than Instagram or Netflix series, mom and dad mentioned the Apion’s and that they were descendants of founding fathers or whatever.” Atticus begins.
“I remember because mom harassed me with complaints that she couldn’t find any of them on any social media networks and had to send a telegram or a letter or something ancient like that.” Atticus explains, a thoughtful look marinating on his face as he looks back down to his phone and uses his index finger to tap on to the screen.
“… and I think I know why.” Atticus pensively mumbles. He turns his phone around and showcases it to Lele,, and her frown deepens.
“I want to see!” Joshua whines. He pounces on Atticus and grips on his arms, trying to claw for the phone. Atticus silences him and gently nudges him off with his elbow.
“You would think as wealthy as these Apion’s are that they could afford Wi-Fi.” Lele snorts. Atticus disappointedly shakes his head and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“You are the dumbest smart person, ever. Look at the bars!” Atticus directs. He excessively shakes his phone in pointed emphasis and Lele leans forward, eyes narrowing to zoom into the top left corner of the screen.
“Forget the internet, there is completely no signal here… it’s not like we’re in the middle of nowhere. This manor is like a five-minute drive from town.” Atticus points out. Lele unknowingly shrugs.
“News flash, this town is in the middle of nowhere… but it’s by the sea. It makes sense that there’s no signal.” Lele retorts. Atticus rolls his eyes and promptly pockets his cellphone.
“Well, that just leaves one thing… who’s up for a lil exploring?”
As time withers by each hour, soon the evening shadows of dusk falls on the gates of the Apion manor and not too long… the preparation for the feast is complete.
The maple wooden table that elongates luxuriously, a dinner table that fits twelve seats and only five people occupy them. The air is saturated with rich smells of divine aromas, of fire-roasted meats and expertly cooked cuisines. It lines the center of the table, gourmet, lavish dishes and platters. From the filet mignon drizzled with balsamic finger, baked Dijon salmon, creamy pesto shrimp and slow-cooked beef bourguignon accompanied with creamy au gratin potatoes.
Joshua’s dazzled eyes sparkle with euphoria, ogling at the exotic foods, more food than he has seen in a week, all delectably presented for one night. Joshua dramatically sniffs the air, inhaling the mouth-watering fragrance and vigorously nods his head to himself in certainty.
“Yep, I think I’m going to really like it here.”
Miss Apion smiles and lets out a polite laugh.
“Good, I want you to feel welcome here. It can be like your new home.”
“For now… until our parents feel that our time in exile is over.” Atticus snarkily retorts. Lele rotates her head to the side to drill him with a scorching look in reproach. Atticus flippantly shrugs his shoulders and flashes an innocent smile.
“Well… I see. I hope you enjoy your lavish exile but for now… please, enjoy and eat until your heart’s content.” Miss Apion permits as Mr. Apion merely flutters his black gloved fingers in the air, beckoning. One servant disembark from the chain of waiters that stagnantly stand in line before the walls of the dining hall, some carry ice buckets with expensive wine bottles inside and another hold pure white handkerchiefs, neatly laid on their curved, outstretched forearms.
The one servant hastily appears by Mr. Apion’s side and serves him and his sister a bottle of 1787, Château Margaux, into the polished wine glasses that sit in perfect symmetry alongside the porcelain plates.
Mr. Apion cumbersomely teases the thin material of his black scarf with his gloved fingers. Lele’s eyes contract, noticing that both Mr. and Miss Apion wear scarves and thick leather gloves. 476Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmoghEHgfPJ
Lele shifts uncomfortably in her seat, feeling a thousand degrees hotter than what she already feels by just looking at them. Lele flicks her gaze beside her at her brother, who uneasily tugs at his dank, white dress shirt.
Soon all the plates of the three siblings are brimming with delicious foods. Joshua instantly digs in, greedily devouring slices of the beef bourguignon, but his two other siblings are hesitant… reluctant.
“Is the food not to your liking because the head chef can make you something different, whatever you want, you need only to ask.” Miss Apion eagerly offers. The offer, however, does not please Atticus but in contrast, leaves him with a rather distasteful feeling in his stomach.
“What more could you offer… you have an entire restaurant of fancy foods laid out on this table for just five people… it’s… a lot.” Atticus mutters. Miss and Mr. Apion mirror confused looks, and Lele immediately intervenes.
“What my brother means to say… is that we are not used to such treatment… the way you live… the closest we have come to it is near our TV screens.” Lele forces out a humorous snicker, and Mr. Apion slowly nods his head and attempts to smile in understanding.
“We do not mean to overwhelm you… we have lived like this, our family has only known but to live like this. We are very grateful for what God has blessed with us.” Miss Apion beams other warm, pacifying smile and Lele nods, her eyes survey the deadpan expressions on the servants’ faces that stand so still in front of the wall, so silent.
“Yes… very blessed.”
Once the fraught, first supper culminates and their bellies full with good food, the siblings are released to return to their quarters and to prepare for bed.
Lele eagerly wrenches off the thick-material black dress that aggravates her skin. She chucks it on to the Victorian armchair that is seated in the room's corner as she happily slips into her own pajamas.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Lele freezes, she inclines her head and concentrates on the peculiar sounds, her eyes zoning into the distant, far-flung sounds that deeply echo into her bedchamber.
Suddenly Max and Atticus burst inside of the room, Lele’s heart springs out of her chest as she clenches her jaw and squeezes her hand into an angered fist.
“At least you had the decency to knock this time.” Lele wryly grumbles. Joshua excitedly races in and leaps on top of the canopy bed. Atticus shoves the door close and slides his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants.
“Oh, please… I never knock.”
Lele’s eyebrows furrow, but she waves off the comment and a sour expression ferments on her face.
“What are you even doing here…?”
“Are you scared? Don’t want to sleep alone in the spooky manor?” Lele mockingly questions in an infuriating baby voice, and it immediately triggers him. Atticus approaches and towers over her, folding his burly arms across his chest.
“Watch yourself, sis.”
“Or what? I’ve seen puppies more threatening than you.” Instantaneously Atticus shoots his arm out and swiftly hooks it around Lele’s neck, heaving her in so it forces her head under his armpit as he playfully jumbles her hair with his other hand. Lele squirms and aggressively jabs her fist into his steel-like oblique, and Atticus laughs at the futile attempt to break free.
“Or that.”
Satisfied, Atticus relinquishes his seize and Lele rushes backward, straightening her posture, face flustered and hair disheveled.
“Such a prick!” Lele barks and Atticus grins, casually shoving his hands back inside of his pockets.
“But I’m your prick.” Atticus chuckles. Lele rolls her eyes and casts a glance to look at Joshua, who sits on the foot of the bed, legs crossed, staring at them as if he is watching a live wrestling match.
“I’m on Atticus’s side!” Joshua announces. Atticus’s grin widens as he steps towards the bed, sliding his hand out and jamming his fist out towards him. Joshua fist-pumps him and giggles.
“Traitor.” Lele mumbles.
“The real reason I’m here is that. One, Josh doesn’t want to sleep alone and there’s no way in hell he is sleeping with me. Two, well… we should wait for him to fall asleep first.” Atticus relays.
Straightaway, Joshua shoots up and stands on the bed and throws one of his infamous tantrums.
“Nah-uh! I want to hear as well! I’m big enough!” Joshua hollers. Lele silences him by jabbing her index finger on her lips. Joshua huffs and angrily crosses his arms. Lele curiously looks back at Atticus and arcs her brow.
“What?”
“I know you and I know your inner Betty Cooper is ringing alarm bells. You and I both know that there’s something… off about this place… about our distant aunt and uncle.” Atticus insinuates, and Lele inclines her head and smiles wickedly.
“I can name a hundred things, starting with these so-called… lost heirs. I guess we have nothing better to do than investigate conspiracy theories.”
“Let the sleuthing commence.”
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