Hilary and the Beasts, Part 17

“Hilary? I think we need to talk.”

Hilary opened her eyes, sobbing into her pillow. Sunlight poured through the wide window in the back of her rooms, filtered through soft blue curtains. Betty, clad in her simple gray dress, shook her arm. “Hilary?”

“Oh Betty,” she gulped, pulling up her soft satin blanket against the morning chill, “I had another nightmare. We were in the garden again. Jeff tried to tell me about the curse, but these horrid monsters dragged him and the two other men away before he could say much.”

“I know, Hilary,” Betty said softly. “I had the same dream.” 

“This is getting absolutely ridiculous.” She nodded at Maple, clutching Walter on the couch and whimpering in her sleep. “Get her up. We need to have a meeting before that old tom cat comes to take us to breakfast.”

“I’m up, Hilary.” Maple tugged her sleep mask off, dark circles clearly under her eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t sleep all that well. I had that dream again, too. I heard you guys talkin’. I just wasn’t ready to open my eyes and admit this happened two nights in a row.”

Betty pulled a paper out of her typewriter, then handed Hilary one. “I’ve been up for two hours. I made lists of everything strange we’ve run across since we came here. You girls can add your own observations.”

Maple made a face, even as Betty slid the paper in her hand. “It’s too early in the morning for playin’ detective.” Even so, her eyes roved down the paper, dark lashes fluttering as she murmured the words. 

“Maple, this isn’t playing.” Betty tacked a fourth paper to the bathroom door. “We’re never going to figure out any of this if we don’t get organized.”

“She’s right.” Hilary sighed as she read over the list. “Even I’m willing to concede this. Just the shared nightmares alone would be enough to convince any sane person that there’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

“Meets the eye.” Maple raised a copper eyebrow. “Isn’t that what Jeff keeps sayin’ in the dream? Don’t trust appearances, look with your heart. Don’t let your eyes fool you.”

Betty nodded, scribbling notes on her paper. “You’re right. We’ve only scratched the surface. These aren’t animals here. They talk and behave like humans.” Her eyes drifted to Walter cuddled next to Maple. “First on the list…Bear. He’s not stupid, and not a bear, either. Sometimes, his eyes will light up, or he’ll give this little…smirk that is so familiar, and he’ll almost look human.” She frowned. “And then some…shadow will pass over him, and he’ll go blank again.”

“Yeah.” Maple narrowed her eyes. “He knows somethin’. Somethin’...or someone…don’t want him talkin’.” 

“Those papers…” Hilary turned to Maple. “Eagle’s work. All those papers. The maps. They were of Europe. Germany, Italy, Spain, Czechoslovakia. Maple, did you get a chance to read them?”

“Not all of them.” Maple tossed bras and sweaters out of her second suitcase. “And most’a the ones I did read, I didn’t really understand.”

Betty raised an eyebrow as she bent over her notes. “Were they in German or another European language?”

“No. They were all in English. I think, anyway.” Maple grabbed a tight pink sweater and black skirt. “But they didn’t make no sense. They were all either gibberish, or charmin’ sayin’s like ‘witch of Prague selling Berlin chocolates in Italy.’” 

“I think what we need to do,” Hilary said as she took a dress from her luggage and walked into the closet, “is divide and conquer. Maple, you seem to have the easiest time translating Eagle. His wing talk just looks like flapping to me. You’re the one who got him out of his rooms.”

“Maple, you and Hilary need to check out that organ Troll mentioned, too.” Betty scribbled something else on her paper. “It’s probably where the music we’ve heard since we’ve arrived came from. Troll called it ‘she.’ I suspect it may be enchanted as well. And it knows Hilary’s favorite songs.”

“Only the ones that remind me of Jeff.” Hilary came out in her simple but devastating yellow plaid suit. “I’ve been hearing ‘Roses of Yesterday’ since we arrived, including in the dream last night.” 

Maple pulled on a slightly frayed coral-knit cardigan. “Betty, I think you oughta take Bear. He likes you. I’ve seen the way he looks at ya.” She grinned dreamily. “I think it’s love!”

“I’m not sure I approve of that,” Hilary mutters. “I know those looks, and love doesn’t enter into it.”

Betty sighed. “Hilary, I know how you feel about Bear, but I think he might be the key to solving this. Someone locked his mind away for a reason. He really lit up when I was reading to him. I think getting him to read and write again may help unlock those missing memories.” 

“That leaves Troll and the rest of the household for you, Hilary.” Maple grinned. “You n’ Troll were really buddy-buddy last night.”

“Please.” She settled her black Chanel hat with the dashing feather on her head. “He’s obstinate, demanding, and spoiled.” 

Maple smirked. “So are you, Hilary. You two are perfect for each other.” 

“Well,” Hilary admitted as she admired her hat, “he did save my life last night. And,” she sighed, “there’s something…those eyes. They’re so…I know them. I’ve seen them before. They don’t match the rest of that vaudeville makeup he has on. They’re too…human.”

Betty thoughtfully chewed on her eraser. “That’s true of Bear, too. His eyes…I know them. They are not the eyes of a bear.”

“Yeah, Eagle’s got cute eyes, too. I keep thinkin’ I’ve seen ‘em before. Like they were there, then they weren’t.” Maple yanked on her green heels again. “Ok, ladies. Do we all know what we’ve gotta do?”

“Yes.” Betty put the list on her desk. “And we need to continue the phone calls. I’ll call Doug Thompson after breakfast. In addition to being able to pull strings at City Hall, he might know more about Pavla. There’s something…off…about her, and not just that she took your role. Her appearance was really out-of-the-blue. She’s here for a reason, and I think acting is only part of it.”

“Oh, she’s acting, all right.” Hilary narrowed her eyes. “Acting her way onto every casting couch from here to Berlin.”

“Aw, come on, Hilary.” Maple set Walter upright on the couch. “She was in the first dream. And the monsters? Where in the hell did they come from, an’ why are they doin’ what she says? If she’s just an’ actress, why’s she hangin’ around with leftovers from the last Universal horror movie?”

“I could try to ask Troll, but he tends to toss crockery whenever she enters the picture.” Hilary made a face. “Which is entirely sensible, as I feel like doing the same whenever anyone brings up that…that…role-stealing, husband-grabbing gold digger!”

“She is a gold-digger, I’ll agree with that.” Betty swept her hair back with a gray ribbon. “But I think there’s more to her, too. I think she’s the other key here.”

Hilary was about to retort when the elderly cat arrived. “Hello, ladies.” He gave them his charming old kitty smile. “Mrs. Fox says breakfast is ready. It will just be you and the servants this morning. Bear and Troll are recovering from their injuries last night.”

“Oh dear.” Betty looked concerned. “Are they all right? They were shot. They must be in terrible pain this morning. Maybe we should have called a doctor.”

“Oh, it’s not just the shots, though Troll has been a bit noisy about his being sore. It’s…” Mr. Cat shrugged. “Well, they walked into doors last night. Happens to me all the time.”

“I don’t buy that any more than I can throw it,” Maple whispered to Hilary. “Somethin’ is goin’ on around here.”

“I’m tired of what’s going on around here!” Hilary’s whisper was more than a hiss. “We are going to get to the bottom of this, if we have to drag those two idiots out by their fur and pound them ourselves until they start talking!”

“I think,” Maple added dryly, “that the talkin’ would probably be scary enough for these guys.”