Hilary and the Beasts, Part 42

There was a party in progress when they arrived. Maple was dancing, or trying to, with Eagle. He kept tripping over her and looking at his talons, but she didn’t seem to mind. Bear and Mr. Rabbit sat at Miss Organ, playing “Happy Days are Here Again.” Betty and Miss Organ sang along as Mr. Rabbit guided Bear’s paws along the piano. Hilary had never seen Bear so happy. His apple-cheeked grin as his claws picked out the tune was infectious. 

“Hi, guys!” Maple grinned and looked up as the song ended. “Oooh, what did you bring us?” She and Eagle hurried over to the vase of orange-red roses Troll carried. “They smell so good! I thought most’a the roses were gone by now.” 

“They’re not for you. They’re for the music room. And they came from the Hot House.” Troll settled the vase on a small table by the window, then took one and handed it to Mr. Rabbit with a flourish. “This is for you and Miss Organ, for all both of you do for us.”

“Awww!” Miss Organ trilled as Mr. Rabbit slid the rose on her music stand. “That’s so sweet of you, Master. I didn’t think you really noticed us that much.”

“I regret that now.” He turned to Bear. “How are you feeling? Better? You look better.”

“Bear feel good.” He ran his claws over the keys with a smile that was even brighter than the fall sunshine streaming through the window. “He feel really good. Bear like to play. He like to sing song. Bear like,” he looked over his shoulder at Betty, “when Betty sings song. Betty sing nice.” 

Betty blushed, rubbing his furry shoulder in its red-checked flannel shirt. “Awww. Thank you, Bear. You don’t play too badly, for someone with claws. Mr. Rabbit, you’re honestly pretty good.” The little rabbit valet nodded, patting Miss Organ so gently, she actually moaned under his paw.

Maple smirked. “Someone had a good time there.” Eagle coughed and turned red under his wing, Mr. Rabbit’s fur turned red, and even Betty blushed a bit. 

“Yes, well,” Troll let out his own cough, “we need to focus on other things.” He gathered a stack of records from the table. “Bear, I want you to listen to these and see if you hear anything familiar.”

Maple squealed with glee. “Oooh, are those the ones with Jeff n’ Victor on them? I love listenin’ to them, even if Eagle don’t like it.” She took the one on top and dropped it on the player. “That Victor has a beautiful voice, doesn’t he?” She sighed as she moved the needle over the grooves. “Too bad Victor couldn’t have talked to me. I tried to get him to see me a few times, but all he ever did was look at those papers he always had, or talked to Jeff. I don’t think he even knew I was there.”

Troll turned to Eagle, who let out a deflated, unhappy squawk. “Maybe he had more important things on his mind than romance at the time.” Eagle turned away, his beak unreadable as he perched on the back of the chair near the window. His monstrous friend gave him a gentle pat on his feathered back as he squawked softly. 

Hilary settled on the chair closest to the player as the record began. “They’re just talking about all the trouble in Europe and how people here and there are starving.” Betty made a face. “I don’t hear anything out of the ordinary.”

“I do.”

Everyone turned to Bear, who was still seated at Miss Organ’s bench. “Hear patterns.” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus. His snout scrunched up; sweat beaded on his silky fur. “Know voices. Voices…fr…friends. Good friends. They send patterns. Bear…someone…write patterns.” Mr. Rabbit rubbed his back. “Someone…patterns…someone smart…very smart.  Bear…” 

“Bear?” Betty jumped up as Victor and Jeff’s voices continued in the back. “Do you know them? Do you recognize their voices?”

Bear clutched the organ’s keys so hard, Miss Organ let out a surprised high note. “Bear,” Hilary said softly, “could you decode those? Could you decode the papers?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed hard. “Bear try. It hurt. It hurt so much. But Bear try.” 

Betty patted Bear’s paw. “It’s of the utmost importance! Think of those starving people, here and elsewhere. Think of bad people starting to cause trouble in Europe.”

Hilary was too busy listening to the record to pay the others much mind. Maple sprawled at her feet, one ear on the record, one eye on the brooding Eagle. Jeff sounded strong, concerned, and absolutely gorgeous. Just hearing her voice made her heart pound and the blood rush to her head. This must have been one of the recordings they made in Europe and brought over here. She could hear British accents in the background. It was almost like he was in the room with her, and she could touch him…hold him…run her fingers through that curly black-brown hair…

“Penny for your thoughts?” Troll scooted next to her. “You really seem to be enjoying these recordings.”

“My husband…ex-husband is one of the voices on this record.” She spoke softly, so she wouldn’t miss anything. “He’s the one I mentioned earlier. I never understood what I did to him to make him want to go with Pavla, or why he jumped into her arms. I mean, we’ve always argued, but it was just how we were. We never meant anything by it. Not really, anyway.”

Troll squeezed her hand as gently as he could. “Believe me, Hilary. He loved you. He loved you more than anything. You and his career were his whole world. He would not have left you willingly.” 

She sighed, leaning into him without thinking. He wasn’t very comfortable. His chest was bony, hard, and squishing with smelly slime…but his heart was beating just as quickly as hers. “If that’s true,” she whispered, “why did he leave? She said he loved her!”

“Believe me,” Troll’s growl erupted deep within his shallow throat, “she lied. That woman would do anything to stay in the US and destroy everything around her. She cares about her, not love.” 

Hilary was only half-listening to him. “I take it she’s hurt you, too.” 

“More than you know.” Troll looked over his shoulder. Hilary could see poor Bear trembling out of the corner of her eye. “Bear, are you all right?”

“Yes…no.” Betty still rubbed his shoulder, but he was shaking like a leaf. “I know. I know this. Piece of cake!” She tried to help him hold the pencil and move it along the paper. He closed his eyes again, his black fur shedding on Miss Organ’s bench. “Numbers…Europe…letters…patterns…friends…my friends…” He gasped. “It hurts. Patterns…know patterns. They…Europe…her…she hurt them. I solved patterns, and she hurt them. The darkness…her fingers…my head…” He looked up at the clock, gasping. “Oh, would you look at the time?” 

“Bear.” Troll’s voice rose to a near-growl as the record ended. “What does it say?” 

“She…” Betty rubbed Bear’s back. When he looked up at Troll, his eyes were clouded. “She belong to Central Powers groups. Bear knows…she knew…OWWWW!” His scream nearly ruptured Hilary’s eardrums. “She knew! Bear…someone else. They knew. He knew. She with Nazis…bad people.”

Eagle squawked. “Yeah, I heard of them, too, Eagle. They’re gettin’ to be a big deal in Germany. Lot of folks don’t agree with the people they exclude or how they say everyone oughta be the same an’ anyone else don’t belong in Germany.” Maple put her hand on his wing. “Is that what all this is about? What Pavla’s so worried about, she attacked you?” 

“I can’t.” Bear finally opened his eyes again. When he did, they were swallowed in black. “Can’t anymore. It really hurts!” 

“We’ll go work on our story. We’re almost done. We just need to do the part where the Bear Prince and princess flee the evil queen’s castle.” She turned to Troll. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have done more.” 

Troll sighed. “It’s a start. We have to get these to the FBI by the end of the year. Otherwise she…we…well, we won’t be here. We’ll be with her.” 

“With Pavla?” Maple growled, wrapping her arms around Eagle so hard, he let out a surprised squawk. “There’s no way in hell we’re gonna let her get her slimy hands on you guys! You’re too good for her, all of you!”

“I agree.” Hilary squeezed Troll’s clawed fingers. “I think we could discuss this over a nice tea. We need to talk about our recitation for Thanksgiving afternoon, too.”

Maple nodded, grinning at Mr. Rabbit. “That’s right! We’ve gotta talk about our song, an’ the dance I’m doin’.” Eagle squawked and waved a wing at a book on his desk. “Yeah, n’ we have to remind Betty n’ Bear that they’re gonna read their story for us.” 

Hilary gave Troll a grin that was almost flirtatious. “Want to go work on our Romeo and Juliet? I love how you sound when you’re calling out to me on the balcony.” 

He gave her that lipless grin that was starting to make her melt. “I couldn’t think of a better way to spend an evening.” He took her hand again as they headed out, ignoring the wide eyes from Mr. Rabbit, the knowing snickers from Maple, and the amused squawks from Eagle.

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 43

Hilary and the girls gathered around the phone in her room about a week later. They always did something special for Dad on Armistice Day. He had been in the Great War, had fought in the Battle of Verdun. He always claimed he spent most of the conflict hiding in a foxhole not shooting at anyone. He said he was luckier than most guys who came back to the US missing limbs or damaged by mustard gas…or who didn’t return at all…but he didn’t really like to talk about his experiences, either. 

“Hi, Dad!” three voices chorused. Hilary was just glad to hear his gentle chuckle. She’d missed her father, both during the past few months and when she and Jeff lived in New York. Dad could be a coward and told the absolute worst jokes, but he was also sweet, funny, and good to his beloved children.

“Hi, girls!” Mackie Bloom’s gentle, unmistakable voice crackled on the line. Hilary could almost see the round glasses over his dark eyes and that gray mustache bristling. “How’s my favorite ladies? The house has been so empty without you girls! Nice as it’s been to have C.J to myself and it be just the two of us, I’ve missed you three eating us out of house and home and leaving stockings all over the bathroom.”

Hilary laughed. “We’ve missed you too, Dad. We’re going to hear Mr. Cat talk about his years riding with Teddy Roosevelt at the Battle of San Juan Hill today after lunch. I’m just hoping he can remember all of it. He’s an absolute dear, but his memory does seem to wander at times.”

“Hi Daddy!” Maple waved to the phone. “I’m gonna play all the old songs after dinner, like ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’ and “Keep the Home Fires Burning” on Miss Organ. She says she remembers them, too.”

“Dad,” Betty tried to squeeze in between her sisters, “I wrote a recitation for Troll and Hilary to perform on the sacrifice of our soldiers in battle. I think you’ll like it. And Hilary is going to read ‘In Flanders Fields.’”

“You don’t know how much I miss you girls, sugar plum!” Mackie’s sigh cracked. “I miss the sound of that typewriter of yours going at all hours. I miss worrying that you’ve been up too late and aren’t getting enough sleep. I appreciate the money you send from selling your radio plays, but it’s not the same as having you here.”

“Dad?” Hilary took the phone back. “I want to ask you something. Have you heard anything about Jeff? Or Pavla, for that matter. C.J said The Rivals started.”

“I saw it.” Now her dear old dad bristled with indigence. “She can’t hold a candle to my favorite diva. She’s nothing like you were in the role, Hilary. You lit up the stage. Honey, you cared. I could always tell. She’s a good actress, but she has all the warmth of a cold, flat beer. That role needs you, not a cold fish.” 

“Thank you, Dad.” Hilary made a face. “Dad, have you heard anything else about Pavla from your acting friends? Or Jeff. We’re convinced Jeff, Scott, and Victor are somewhere in Pittsburgh. They can’t be anywhere else. Believe us, we’ve called everyone we know.” 

“So have I, Ginger Snap.” Mackie’s voice dropped. “And believe me, I don’t like the things I’m hearing. There’s rumors about that woman going around. They aren’t pleasant. They say she practices…rituals.” His voice became a whisper. “Black magic. She’s been heard backstage, speaking in incantations and making black light appear suddenly. It wasn’t special effects, Ginger Snap. They saw her send that black light over the producer she was with, and he was covered in hair they couldn’t shave no matter how hard he tried, and he couldn’t remember who he was or who he’d originally casted in his next extravaganza.” 

“That’s crazy!” Maple exclaimed over Hilary’s shoulder. “No one can do that, outside of fairy tales!”

“That’s what I heard!” Mackie’s whisper became a worried hiss. “I believe it. T.J Hunnicut vanished two days ago. He was last seen driving her to his mansion from the Nixon. No one’s seen him since. Not at his place. Not at the Nixon. Not even his mistresses. He’s just…vanished.”

“Just like Jeff and the others.” Betty’s growl nearly matched Bear’s. “She probably got to him too, just like Jeff and the others.”

“She’s after something.” Hilary narrowed her eyes. “Dad, could you and C.J keep an eye on her? Or at least, see what you read in the paper. I think, if we know what she’s up to, we’ll find out what she did with Jeff and the others. They’re not in Europe, I know that much. Hunnicut isn’t, either.”

“Are you crazy?” Mackie’s voice screeched so loudly, she had to hold the receiver away from them. “Bad enough C.J has to work with that barracuda! I like my life, and I don’t think she’s all that pretty anyway! I wouldn’t share a rye crisp with that woman, let alone a drink or anything else!”

“Dad, come on!” Maple made a face. “We’re not askin’ you to take her out. Just…you n’ C.J keep an eye on her. Make sure she don’t do nothin’ else bad. It could be life or death!”

Mackie’s voice cracked and sputtered worse than the phone line. “Life or death? You mean…the dead kind of dead?”

“Dad,” Betty added, “if you don’t help us, everyone in this household is going to be slaves to that…that witch by the end of the year! We like them, and we don’t want that to happen!”

Mackie whimpered. “Even the monster?”

“Especially him.” Hilary sighed. “We’ll be fine, Dad. Don’t worry. We can take care of each other. You just take care of C.J and yourself.”

Maple waved. “Yeah, Dad! We love you!”

“Give our love to C.J!” Betty added. “And happy Armistice Day!”

“Thanks, girls!” Mackie let them off, muttering “Was ever a woman in this humor wooed?” as his daughters went to join the others to celebrate the moment of silence at 2:11 and hear Mr. Cat’s stories about how he rode with the Rough Riders at San Juan Hill again. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Preparations for Thanksgiving pretty much consumed the remaining weeks of November. When Betty wasn’t tapping away at radio scripts, she and Bear were in the library, finishing their Bear Prince story and working on reading the Irish fairy tale The Brown Bear of Norroway. If they weren’t in the library, they were in the music room, playing songs old and new with Miss Organ, Maple, and Eagle. Maple played along with him, Betty sang, and even Eagle squawked along. 

Hilary thoroughly enjoyed working on the Thanksgiving pageant with Troll. Betty wrote them a play with her as a pilgrim and Troll as the most unlikely Native American in the history of Thanksgiving pageants…but she was shocked at how well they worked together. They had a rhythm that just matched, even when the dialogue ran to discussions of planting corn and bagging turkeys. She hadn’t had so much fun with any play since the early days of hers and Jeff’s courtship. 

Two days before Thanksgiving, Bear and Eagle disappeared into the woods, carrying rope, a bucket, and a burlap bag. They came back a few hours later with five fine river trout and the fattest wild turkey Hilary had ever seen. Mrs. Fox disappeared into the kitchen, turning pumpkins into pies and creamy soup, mashing potatoes, kneading fragrant buttermilk rolls, drizzling carrots with syrup, and boiling tiny onions with a thick white sauce. Maple and Puppy kept trying to snitch tastes until Mrs. Fox sent them to decorate the house instead.

Breakfast was a quick affair on the day of Thanksgiving, mostly consisting of cold cereal and fruit taken in the front parlor. The kitchen and dining room were busy with food preparations. After Puppy and Mr. Rabbit cleared their bowls, Miss Organ was brought out to the main room, and they set up a small stage in the back with a cardboard Mayflower, paper mache corn stalk, and a large rock Bear dragged in and wiped off to use as Plymouth Rock.

Hilary felt thoroughly silly in her brown dress, white apron borrowed from Mrs. Fox, and white bonnet…but Troll looked even more ridiculous in a fringed shirt and colorful ribbon headband with one feather Eagle gave him. Hilary certainly tried to enact a pilgrim woman, sounding as wise and gentle as she could be rhyming “power” with “Mayflower.” When he looked into her eyes as he gave her a hard plastic ear of corn, she felt chills go down her spine. She barely heard the applause when they finished.

“You were darn good out there,” he whispered as Betty gathered the book she and Bear had stitched together from red yarn. “It’s been a long time since I did any acting. I forgot how much I missed it, and…well, acting with a partner.”

“So did I. Acting is what I was born to do.” She settled down at the place on the couch Betty and Bear had vacated. “The way you project your voice and move your claws when you speak, it reminds me so much of…” Her voice caught as she gazed into those almond-shaped eyes. “Of someone I know…knew. Are you sure you didn’t know my Jeff? You…there’s something about you…”

He leaned so close to her, she could smell the tang of sweat, molding slime, and pancake makeup. “Hilary,” he whispered, his raspy voice so soft it could barely be heard, “would you marry me?”

“I…I…” She gulped and nodded at Betty and Scott as they read their story about three princesses who helped rescue a Bear Prince from a wicked troll witch. They wore their cardboard crowns from Halloween. Betty sported her prettiest pink gown. Scott wore his good white shirt with a fancy scarlet braided vest and black trousers that nearly matched his fur. “I think we should focus on them. They’ve worked so hard on this story! Betty says he’s getting better. He can read whole stories without screaming now.”

Troll nodded. “Next week, after the holidays, I want him to look at those codes and listen to the records again. It might help if we all do it together in the music room. I hate to see him hurting so much, but…we’re running out of time.”

She leaned into his arms, ignoring the slime running down them and how bony and hard they were. “I won’t let Pablum do…whatever it is she wants to do to you…by the end of the year. She wants my Jeff for a slave! And those poor men with him…in our dreams…she was treating them like they were animals! None of them deserve that! Jeff certainly doesn’t.” She made a face. “He deserves my fist in his nose and a stick up his rear for running out, but not being turned into some warped reflection of that Eastern European sour cream tart’s desires! Or have I said too much?”

He sighed, stroking her hair with his claws. “Way too much.” 

Everyone applauded the duo when they finished. “Thank you!” Betty curtsied. Bear bowed as well as he could. “We worked really hard on that story. We’re going to start on another Monday morning.”

Bear nodded eagerly, rubbing Betty’s hand. “We write story ’bout a prince. Bad queen make him and friends work in kitchen and steals their house. Nice queen and princesses have big party. Prince and friends go to party in disguise.” His wide, round-cheeked smile was incandescent…and rather familiar. “Still hurts when Bear write…not as bad. Piece of cake!”

They were replaced by Mr. Rabbit and Maple, who played “We Gather Together,” “Come, Ye Thankful People, Come,” and “For the Beauty of the Earth” on Miss Organ. Eagle perched on a chair behind them, adding his own squawks. Hilary was always impressed with her sisters’ beautiful voices. They rang out in perfect harmony with Miss Organ’s lovely dulcet tones and Bear’s growls. Mr. Rabbit gave Miss Organ a gentle rub as she sang; she let out a few squeaks. 

Mrs. Fox leaned into the living room as “For the Beauty of the Earth” ended. “Ok, folks, chow’s on! Mr. Cat is just about to carve the turkey, and I have the baked fish for Eagle and Bear. Everything’s ready and waiting!”

“Yum! Bear…eat! Bear hungry!” He grabbed Betty’s hand. “Come on! Let’s go eat!” She laughed as he tugged her down the hall to the dining room. Maple took Eagle’s wing and followed them, giving him a little kiss on the beak. Mr. Rabbit gave Miss Organ a gentle rub on the side. 

Troll chuckled. “Let’s go get dinner, before Bear gets to that turkey first.” He rubbed her finger and palm in that familiar way that nearly left her knees weak. “You know, Miss Booth, I think I'm most thankful for you this year.”

She could only nod. “And I’m…” It was hard to keep her voice from squeaking. “I’m thankful for you, too.” 

He took her hand in his claw. “Let’s go eat.” They followed the others, Hilary’s chest hammering in her heart the whole time. 

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 44

December 1930

By the second week of December, everyone was sequestered away in their rooms, either working on gifts or writing or trying to figure out those papers. Hilary was at a loss as to what to give the others. She had little money of her own, and she was neither a story writer like Betty or a songwriter like Maple. By process of elimination, she finally decided to sew pretty handkerchiefs for her sisters, Puppy, and Mrs. Fox and would perform monologues for the males. 

She went into the library to find books of monologues…and was surprised to hear the voices of Jeff and Victor. They played on a Victrola that had been dragged to the couch and chairs in the back of the room by the window. Maple was still bent over the records, barely noticing Eagle gazing out the window at the gray snow squall, brooding. 

The typewriter tapped away slowly at the table. “Eagle?” Bear looked up at the winged creature perching on the back of Maple’s chair. “Do you mind if I put you in story? You Bear smart friend in kitchen. You get to dress up and dance with red-hair princess. You and Bear dance with pretty princesses.” 

He frowned at his unhappy friend, whose glossy mahogany wings sagged as he perched balefully. “Eagle? You good? Eagle sad. Don’t like pretty voices?” He closed his own eyes. “Bear know voices. Bear hear voices before.” 

“Are you all right?” Betty went to Eagle and put an arm around him. “You act this way every time we listen to those records. Tired of them? We have been running them a lot, but Maple says you need to decode them.” 

Hilary frowned at Bear. “How have you been doing with that decoding?”

His eyes remained closed. “Bear tries. He write patterns, but…it hurts. Numbers…letters…they hurt head. She…” His gruff voice broke. “She send black light in head. Hot like lightning. Send black light…Eagle too…Master. Black light in Bear’s head…it hurts!” 

“Is that true?” Betty rubbed Eagle’s wing. “She…I presume Pavla…hurt you all that way?”

Maple finally looked up from the record. “Huh? Pablum? What did that bitch do to you guys? And more to the point, why did she do it? The codes?”

Eagle squawked sadly and nodded as the record concluded. Hilary’s breath caught. “Eagle, how do you have recordings of Victor and Jeff’s voices, anyway?” She turned to Bear. “Bear, do you know?”

“Bear knows.” His big black nose scrunched. “Friends…someone…Sco…friends. Sco…sc…someone’s friends. Friends…codes. Send codes. Sco…someone broke codes.” 

Eagle pushed papers at Bear and squawked slowly, waving his wings as the squall and sleet tapped on the windowpanes. Maple frowned. “He wants to know if you could try these now. He says…” Her voice caught. “He says you don’t have much time. If we can’t get this information to the FBI by the start of next year, she’ll take everyone in the household.” She threw her arms around Eagle, nearly knocking him off his perch. “I don’t want you guys to be pets! You’re friends! You’re practically family now!” Eagle patted her back with his wing.

Betty grabbed his paw. “We can do this together. I’m not the greatest with numbers, but I can get by enough to help you figure it out.”

“Bear try.” She helped him hold the pencil as he looked over the strange phrases. “Bear know.” She guided his hand as he wrote letters shakily under the phrases. “Bear…Sco…know. He know voices. Know…” 

But the more he wrote, the more he sweated. Hilary sat next to him and Betty directed his hand. “Bear,” Hilary repeated softly, “you know the voices on that record. How did you get records with my hus…ex-husband’s and his secretary’s voices? And where are they? Are they in the house somewhere? In Pittsburgh?”

Eagle’s low squawk and soft wing pats on Bear’s back indicated his concern for his friend. Bear closed his eyes, growling. “Bear does know…fr…friends. Knows patterns. Broke patterns for friends. She not like Bear. She…” He gulped. “Hated Bear. Bear dress up Mr. Rabbit as producer. Make her look silly. She got mad.” 

Eagle tried to push the papers at him again, but he pushed them away. “That’s when she put fingers on Bear head. Head…dark light…lightning…it HURT!” When he opened his eyes, they were completely swallowed in black…and pulsing with terror.

He yelled so loudly, Eagle jumped away and Troll ran in. “What’s going on here?” 

Betty rubbed Bear’s head as he whimpered. “I think we’d better break this up for now. Why don’t we all go to the music room? Bear, we can find a song you can play that’ll make your head feel better.”

“Yeah.” Maple gathered the records. “We’ll put this back, Eagle, then work on our Christmas carols with Miss Organ.” 

“Troll,” Hilary turned on him, “I’ve been wondering. You wouldn’t know why you have records with the voices of my ex-husband and his secretary on them? I suspect Pavla has something to do with it. Bear goes into panic mode when I so much as mention her, and I don’t blame him.”

Troll coughed. “I can’t tell you, Hilary. I hate seeing Bear like this, too. He’s…” He coughed again, harder this time. “He is, or was, a good friend. He’s a lot smarter than he…” His cough nearly sent him to the ground. “Then he’s allowed to be.” 

“You sound like you’re getting a cold.” Hilary took his arm. “I think some chicken soup and discussion should clear that right up.” 

Troll’s eyes widened. “What? But I’m not…”

“I’ll tell Mrs. Fox to send some right up to your room.” She tugged him down the hall. “I think we have a lot to discuss, including that seemingly incurable cough of yours.” Troll just groaned as she stopped Mr. Rabbit in the hall and ordered him to bring chicken soup and hot lemon tea for his Master, who kept coughing every time he needed to discuss something important, before almost literally shoving Troll to his room. 

“Hilary!” Troll growled as she almost literally shoved him into bed. “I’m not sick!”

“Stop sounding like a baby…whatever a baby monster is.” As she tucked him into bed, she stopped to admire the roses carved on the headboard and the heavy blue slime-crusted satin sheets and thick, fluffy pillows. “You know, this looks a lot like the bed in my room. You have exquisite taste, for a…a troll.”

“Thank you.” He pushed the sheets aside. “Hilary, please. I just have a little cough. It’s nothing.”

She smirked and pushed him back under the covers. “That little cough only turns up whenever I try to ask you about the curse, or my ex-husband and his friends, or why Bear and Eagle behave the way they do. Bear’s not an illiterate idiot and Eagle’s not a mute. Something viciously attacked both of them, and I suspect that something is Pavla.”

“No.” Troll’s green skin paled into more of a sickly lime. He coughed so hard, he nearly knocked himself off the bed. “They’re not. Especially Bear.”

She pulled the blankets up to his chin. “Ok, now that you’re tucked in, you can talk. What is going on around here? Why do you have records with my ex-husband and his secretary’s voices on them? Why are you all animals? I know there’s a curse, and that Wicked Witch of Eastern Europe Pavla Nemcova has something to do with it.” 

“You know more than I do.” Troll coughed so hard, he nearly knocked himself off the bed. “I can’t…I can’t talk, Hilary. She won’t….allow it. None of us can. She didn’t want…” He nearly hacked up a lung and reached for a glass of water by his bed. “She didn’t want Eagle to broadcast what he knew. That’s why he has a bird’s tongue. She wants to silence him and keep Bear from figuring out the rest of those codes.”

“Why you?” Hilary pulled herself up on the bed next to him. “Why did she attack you three, and this whole household? What did she want with you? Other than that information.”

“I know you don’t believe it, Hilary, but I’m very influential in theatrical circles.” He didn’t object when she leaned into his chest, clad in a thick cotton shirt crusted with slime. “Pavla does want to work in the US and more specifically, get to Hollywood…but the fact that she was a member of certain…groups…was a major red flag. She latched onto me when she found out about my wealth and the people I knew on one of my trips to Europe.”

Hilary glared at him. “Why didn’t you do something more humane, like, oh, kill her?”

“I didn’t know!” He frowned. “By the time she had her hooks into me, it was too late. Eagle had been doing intel on several of the groups in Europe she was…involved with. We…” He coughed hard again. She handed him a tissue. “Well, I can’t say what groups, or how we knew, but we found out.”

She ran her fingers up his slimy chest. “You’re not telling me what I want to know. I asked you a simple question. How did you get the records with Jeff and Victor’s voices?”

He coughed so hard, Hilary had to grab his arm to keep him from tumbling off the bed again. “I told you…I can’t say! She…won’t let me! And anyway, I don’t know…” another cough, “any Jeff or Victor!”

“You’re lying.” She knew there was only one way she was going to get what she wanted. She climbed onto him, rubbing his shirt to avoid the slime on his skeletal, sunken chest. “Those were the recordings my husband and his secretary made while in Europe and working at KDKA. Why do you have them? You’ve never been in radio.”

“I’ve been to Europe.” He was breathing hard, those beautiful almond eyes locked into hers. “I can’t…Hilary…” His voice was husky. “While you’re on top of me…would you marry me?”

She never got the chance to respond. Mr. Rabbit hurried in, carrying a tray with two bowls of chicken soup, two mugs of tea, and oyster crackers. His big brown eyes widened when he saw Hilary laying on his master, and his mouth dropped open so hard, he nearly dislocated his jaw. 

“Hold that thought.” She patted Troll on the cheek. “We’ll return to this later.”

Troll’s breathing was hard and ragged. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.” She climbed off the bed. “I’ll talk to you when you’re feeling better.” She nodded to Mr. Rabbit as she passed him, taking her bowl and mug. “I think I’ll eat these downstairs with the others after all. You can tend to your master. He’s feeling rather poorly. He has this terrible cough that comes and goes.” 

Troll growled. “Hilary! You didn’t answer me!”

Hilary stumbled off before he could see how aroused she was. Laying on him like that…it was too close for comfort. It was too familiar. There was a musky scent under the smelly slime. One she knew too well. One she’d tried to banish from her thoughts. She hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where it would be far easier to process her swirling thoughts. Troll watched her the whole time, even as Mr. Rabbit tried to force chicken soup down his gullet.

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 45

As the days grew shorter and colder and Christmas came closer, there was an electric hum in the air. It wasn’t just because Troll and Mr. Rabbit had spent days fighting with the heater, or Bear had been outside splitting piles and piles of wood. Betty made sure he put aside one special perfect log for the Yule Log. 

“Why?” Bear shrugged as she dug through his pile. He shivered at the cold Pittsburgh wind, even in his thick fur and red plaid flannel shirt. “It just…some old log.” 

“It’s an old family tradition,” Betty explained as she inspected a thick log. “If you burn it for 12 days, you’ll get good luck for the New Year.”

Bear raised a furry eyebrow. “I don’t think logs burn that long.” 

“It’s hypothetical. Ah ha!” She finally tugged out a huge log, almost thicker around than her slender torso. “This one will do nicely. Help me get it inside please, Bear.”

“Ok.” Bear shouldered his ax and took the other side of the log. “Oof!” Even sticking his claws into the side, he still wobbled with it. “Log heavy! Hope this burns long and we get good luck.” Those wide amber eyes gazed up at the young woman in the heavy woolen coat and old galoshes. “Betty, after we put log inside, can we write story?” 

She nodded, smiling back at him. “Of course. We have to finish our story and make those copies for the others, so they can have them for Christmas. They’re our Christmas presents.”

Hilary and Troll watched them from the warmth of the hot house as they hauled the log inside. “They’re really something else.” Troll sighed. “But as much as I hate to break up their lesson, we need to get him looking at those codes again.”

“They’re really that important.” Hilary clipped two pink roses, then two lavender that were very nearly a shade of soft blue. “Did Bear always break codes?”

She rolled her eyes as Troll coughed again, almost knocking over his basket of scarlet and coral and yellow and white roses. “Yes…well, no, he had other jobs. One very important one for me. He was the one who…” His huge, hacking cough shook every rose bush in the entire building. “Well, believe me, he had other work before.” 

Hilary reached over and clipped one of the unique lavender-blue roses. “So, why are you so hard on him? Why is he chopping wood and working in the kitchen instead of doing whatever it is he does for you?”

“He can’t do that anymore.” Troll growled as he clipped another scarlet rose. “He can’t think well enough to do it. He’s worthless for his original job now. I didn’t know what else to do with him. Bear is very strong. You saw what his claws and paws did to those robbers back in January.” He gazed at the piles of wood, which Betty loaded into neat pyramids. “ I sent him to work in the kitchen and to tend to the fires and the furnace. He’s…well, he’s a servant. He sleeps in the servant’s quarters with Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Cat. He doesn’t know anything else.”

She put aside more scarlet roses. “I’ll dry these. Put them in books, or make potpourri for the girls. They’ll like that. Maybe a bookmark for Bear.” Her sharp, dark eyes gazed up at him as snow began to fall silently outside of the hot house. “You never did tell me how you happened to get records with the voice of my ex-husband and his secretary on them.”

For a moment, the only sounds were the hissing of the boilers that kept the room warm, the gentle brush of the snow outside, and their own breathing. “Let’s say…I got them from friends,” he finally rumbled. “Dear friends, who were attacked by Pavla and her monsters. The codes contain information about every group she works for.”

“Sco…” He coughed so hard, he knocked petals off the coral rose in his hand, “the cleverest of the men had broken codes during the Great War. He could break any code his friends gave him. He was able to get a little more than half of them done before…” The next cough nearly knocked him to the ground. “Before she found out what they were doing and hurt them.”

She nearly tore the last lavender-blue rose off the bush. “What I want to know now is, how can we change this? You saw Betty. She’s crazy about your friend Bear. I haven’t seen her so happy in years. She doesn’t spend all of her time hiding behind her typewriter anymore. She’s too busy helping him think of stories. I don’t want her to be hurt when you all have to go away at the end of the year.”

That was when Hilary saw another familiar figure, this time in the sky over the hot house. She could just see Maple, bundled in her green coat and felt cloche hat with the fake grapes, clinging to Eagle’s back. She was cuddling him and rubbing his chest with her gloved hands, even as he carried a bucket of fish from the stream in his beak. He managed to rub her with his wing before he went back to focusing on making their way through the cold, wet snow.

Troll sighed. “I wish he’d go back to focusing on his work. I understand that he’s fond of Maple, but we’re almost at the end of the year. If they can’t get those papers decoded…if she comes back and gets her hands on us…”

“I won’t let her!” Hilary growled, shaking every rose bush nearby. “The girls won’t let her! You saw them. They love those two!” She took his claws firmly. “You do, too. I can tell, even though you try to hide it. Even though you bully Bear something terrible. You don’t want your friends to be hurt, any more than I want my sisters to be hurt. And the best way to keep them all from getting their hearts broken…” She looked into those glittering, dark almond-shaped eyes. “Is for you to tell me how we can break that curse.”

He stared right back. “Love, Hilary. They’re ready for love. You say you want your sisters to be happy. Marry me, Hilary. I can give you everything. Get your career back.”

“I…might consider it.” Her voice was hesitant. “Under all that smelly slime and annoying bluster, you’re not bad. I’ve almost enjoyed this year. It’s been…something different, anyway.” She quickly picked up the basket. “Why don’t we get these inside, before the storm gets worse? I just hope Eagle and Maple are on their way back. They don’t need to be out in this.”

Troll just nodded. “Yes.” His voice was husky, almost sensual. He started rubbing her fingers in that familiar way again. “We’ll talk about this later.” Her knees felt weak, almost like they were made of water. She wobbled all the way back to the house. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When they weren’t attending to Christmas preparations, they were in the music room. Being around music seemed to soothe Bear’s head. Maple played Christmas carols softly on Miss Organ as Betty guided his paw and Hilary played the records. 

“How’s it coming?” She looked over her shoulder. Eagle was shuffling through the remaining papers. Troll paced up and down the small room, his warty, pea-green face heavy with concern. “Has he finished that paper yet?” He nodded at the record. “We don’t have much time left. It’s five days before Christmas. We need that done.” 

“Almost there.” Betty squeezed Bear’s paw, but it shook badly. “You can do it! You know you can.” She gently stroked the fur over his blue cotton shirt. “I know you can.”

“But…” Bear gulped. “It hurts, Betty. She hurt…” He continued to move his paw, clutching the pencil as well as he was able. “Light…black light…it hurts! Like lightning. It hurt Bear. Hurt Bear’s head. Make Bear…” He gulped, his big brown eyes dropping to the page. “Make Bear forget. Make Bear forget friends. Black light make Bear useless.” 

“No!” Troll was by his side in an instant. “No, Bear, don’t think that! You’re not useless. You’re strong and kind and good. You’re always friendly and helpful.”  

“He’s right.” Betty squeezed his paw. “Didn’t we write a story, and are almost finished with another? We just have a few pages left! The princess is going to rescue the bear and his friends when the jealous lady who owns the house tries to hide them away. You came up with most of the story, and it’s wonderful.” 

“No…” He gently rubbed her tiny hand in his rough ebony paws. “Betty…make story. Betty smart. Bear…just type.”

“That’s not true. You came up with just as many ideas as I did. Maybe more.” She put her arms around him and gently lay her hand on his paw, guiding it back over the page. “Come on. You can finish this little bit.”

Hilary grabbed Troll’s arm. “First of all, after they finish here, we need to work on our Christmas Eve version of Hilary Booth-Bloom’s A Christmas Carol. We can do it in the ballroom. It’s barely been used. Second,” she frowned, speaking softer, “the second Bear finishes that decoding, I’m going to take it to the authorities. My brother C.J says the FBI has been hanging around the Nixon, where Pavla’s starring in my…in The Rivals. They’re looking for information on her activities in Europe. If anything could deport her back to Europe and let her land hard on her rear, this would be it.”

“That will get rid of her.” Troll’s dark eyes were still haunted. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m…undecided.” Hilary suddenly became very interested in her Christmas Carol scripts. “Why is getting married so important to you?”

“It’s…” His cough was so loud, Eagle fluttered over and put a wing on his shoulder in concern. “It just is. It’s what…” He grabbed a glass of eggnog from a nearby table and gulped it before continuing. “It’s what I want.” 

Maple looked over from the organ. “Eagle says we only have a few more pages and two records left to work on. Two?” She raised an eyebrow. “But there’s three records left we haven’t listened to. What’s on the third one?”

Bear moaned before Eagle could even wave his wings. “Owww!” He threw down the pencil. “It hurt more! Bear can’t. Not today. Bear useless! Black light hurt!”

“Shh.” Betty rubbed his paw. “Let’s go upstairs and work on that story now. It always makes your head feel better, and I like it, too. We could ask Newspaper to read it as Richard Bartholomess or John Barrymore.” 

Bear nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing “Bear go. Story good. Makes head feel good. Only hurt little.” 

“Eagle n’ I will finish with those records.” She settled down by the player. “Maybe we’ll find a clue or somethin’ in them.” Eagle squawked and perched next to her, gently putting a wing around her shoulders. She leaned into him, rubbing against his soft, downy chest.

“This isn’t done, Hilary.” Troll gave her that deep, intense almond-eyed stare that usually sent everyone but her scrambling out the door. “I need your answer by New Year’s Eve. Or I’ll…” His hacking cough nearly doubled him over. “Well, I need it soon.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, but all she said was, “why don’t we go work on our parts in that play?” She dashed out the door first, hoping he didn’t see her flushed cheeks and quickened breath. Yes, she’d grown very fond of him. She was beginning to wonder how she’d imagined life without him. And her sisters certainly cared about his friends. But love? Was it love? She wasn’t sure anymore…but she had to figure it out, and soon, before she lost him to that Czechoslovackian goulash just like she lost her Jeff. 

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 46

The day before Christmas Eve passed in a flurry of wrapping, typing, and preparation. Bear and Betty disappeared into the library after breakfast and weren’t seen for the rest of the day, taking their lunch at the tables by the window. Maple spent her morning after breakfast in the music room, working on something mysterious with Miss Organ. She wouldn’t even let Eagle see - or hear - what it was. Eagle flew out the window after breakfast and wasn’t seen again until nearly dinner. Mrs. Fox and Mr. Cat spent the day in the kitchen, mixing up breads and cakes with tantalizing spicy smells that they wouldn’t let anyone else see. Puppy kept eagerly peeking in at everyone, asking questions, helping Betty and Bear with their last stories.

Hilary and Troll spent almost the entire day working on their two-person (well, one woman and one monster) Christmas Carol in the cavernous ballroom. She gasped when he switched on the lights and a massive crystal chandelier flooded the room with dazzling rainbows of golden light. Yanking dusty sheets off odd-shaped forms revealed a gleaming grand piano and a stage that ran the length of the back of the room. She leaned into the soft red velvet curtain. It was finer than anything hanging at the Nixon that moment. She wanted to have a dress made from it.

“This is incredible.” She felt more like a queen than Scrooge’s fiancee as she made her way onstage. “You know,” she added, “we should do something with this room for Christmas Eve tomorrow. We could dress up, bring in Miss Organ with that piano, dance, maybe have a big dinner. I know we were just going to finish up our plans for Christmas morning tomorrow night.”

“You know,” he rumbled slowly, “it might be fun, at that. Bear and Eagle aren’t good dancers, but I don’t think they’d mind wearing good clothes and spending time with your sisters. Besides, it would celebrate our last…” he coughed loudly. “Our last week together. I don’t think we’ll be around after New Year’s Eve, unless…” 

She rubbed his back when he nearly doubled over coughing. “Good grief, that one just about knocked you into the stage! Unless what?” 

“Unless…” He coughed so hard, he fell to his knees, clutching his chest. “Unless…I can…the c…c…”

She hurried to the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. “Here. You do that every time we even remotely discuss that curse and what happened to this household. You still haven’t told me how you all came to live in a house owned by my ex-husband in the first place.” 

“Thank you.” It took a few minutes for the wracking coughs to subside. “I haven’t told you because I can’t. All I can say is that we’ve lived here since…” He coughed again, but not as hard. “Since last September.” 

Hilary raised an eyebrow. “That would have been right after Jeff and his Lost Boys came back from Europe and Pavla announced he was in love with her.”

“It’s not true! She LIED!” His voice roared with such fury, Hilary leaped back. The almond eyes flared with unbridled anger. “The only thing she loves is her career and herself. He…I…” His wracking coughs nearly sent him to the floor again. “She wanted me, too! She wanted the money, the entrance into the US, my theatrical connections. She does want to be an actress, that much is true. But we…my friends and I…we heard what she did to other actors and producers in Europe who crossed her. We knew about…what she’s capable of, but Sco…my friend who did the decoding said it was a load of hooey and we shouldn’t be afraid. He was wrong.”

“Obviously.” She helped him onto the stage. “I think we could use a good party. It’ll help us forget everything that’s going on. Especially your friend Eagle. If it wasn’t for Maple, he’d throw himself so much into those papers, he’d probably forget the rest of us exist.”

“He was always like that.” Troll managed to stand, despite still coughing. “Vic…well, he’s always been kind of an egghead. Even when he had a woman in his life, he focused on his work. I’m not sure he’d know what to do without it.”

“Another woman?” Hilary smirked. “Don’t tell Maple that. She’s wild about him.”

“She’s long gone.” He flipped through his script. “She was an actress. Wanted him to be part of her entourage, but he’s addicted to his work. You’ve seen him.” He nodded at the script. “Want to work on the first act, where Scrooge meets Marley, and then when he sends his fiancee away after she says he’s too interested in his work to notice her?”

Hilary took one look at those commanding dark almond eyes and almost melted. “Uh-huh. I’m reading Scrooge, of course.” She grabbed hold of his arm, ignoring how her fingers slid on the slimy, bony appendage. 

He nodded, his boyish grin making her knees weak. “Of course. And after we work on the first act, we’ll tell Mrs. Fox about our idea for the Christmas Eve party. She already has a lot to do, but I think she could whip up something, and there’s clothes in the attic to wear.”

“Um, yes. That…that’ll work. We’ll go to her right after we work on this, then tell the others.” His eyes were so familiar! She knew them as well as her own name, but…how? How could he…it couldn’t be! It was all she could do to focus on the first lines of the script in her shaking hands. “Yes, well, we’ll start. ‘Marley was dead, to begin with, as dead as a doornail…’”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mrs. Fox said “no” at first, when they suggested it during dinner. “I have enough to do without making party food too!” She protested loudly. “I have to finish the yule log cake, and Christmas dinner, and I haven’t even started the New Year’s food yet!”

“Oh, Mrs. Fox, I wouldn’t mind the extra work!” Puppy’s wide, blue eyes and her trembling golden paws would break any heart. “I could aid the women in searching the attic for gowns to wear, and Mr. Rabbit and I could decorate the ballroom. It’s already set up for A Christmas Carol. We could add wreaths and things, and push Miss Organ in to play music, since we could never hire a full orchestra on short notice.”

“Please, Mrs. Fox?” Bear’s big brown eyes were even wider. “I wouldn’t mind…chopping extra wood…if I could dress nice. Bear not see party. Bear never been in ballroom. Not since we’ve been here. Bear be with Betty on Christmas.” Betty just blushed as he rubbed her small hand.

“I’ll even help you with the cooking.” Troll patted her paw. “I’m not too shabby. After all, even the Master can lend a claw or two.” 

That was that. Puppy took her and her sisters upstairs to the attic right after dinner. Hilary knew her sisters had searched the attic when they were looking for Jeff and the others, but they hadn’t been looking for clothes.The dark, dusty space was filled with nothing but trunks. Trunks piled on top of each other, trunks leaning against the wall, like dusty shadows. Racks of beautiful old gowns, ghosts of forty years before, lacy specters of past balls and parties. 

“It’s like a museum in here!” Maple dug into a trunk and came up with a whalebone corset. “I ain’t gonna have to wear this, am I?”

Hilary made a face. “Not unless you’re a whale. Thank heavens those went out two decades ago.” She handed her middle sister a green evening gown with a full skirt and huge ruffled collar. “This might go well with your hair, though.” She pulled out a red velvet that swished when she walked for herself. “This would be just perfect for me.” 

Betty and Puppy dug around a rack of smaller dresses. “This might work for me.” Betty emerged in a blue sateen dress with a slightly higher skirt and wide lace panels running down the front. “It’s a bit much, but I think that was the style then.” 

“Hey, you look pretty snazzy, sis!” Maple emerged in the dark green velvet gown with the gold tulle train…and Hilary’s voice caught. “Do I look ok, Hilary? I almost tripped in this train. I mean, it looks cute n’ everything, but it’s like draggin’ the Orient Express.” 

“You look just like the pictures of Mother Father thinks I don’t know he has on his dresser at home.” She tugged the skirt down and pulled the low-cut collar over her considerable decolletage. “Mother wore a dress like this when Father first started courting her. You’re so much like her, Maple.”

Betty sighed as she and Puppy admired a lacy white summer organdy dress. “I wish I’d known her. I don’t really remember her well, and C.J remembers her even less.” 

“You look gorgeous in it, Miss Maple!” Puppy breathed. “Just like a princess.” 

“I think we should all be princesses.” Hilary opened a smaller case. “Well, well. Look at what I found.” She pulled out a glittering gold tiara with sparkling cherry-red stones. “It’s gold plate and cheap paste gems, but it looks real enough. Too bad there’s no crowns for the men here. We could all be royalty.” 

There were two more tiaras of gold and silver plate with green and blue paste gems for the girls. Betty found an adorable little girl dress for Puppy, low-waisted cranberry red taffeta with a huge lace collar, shiny red strap shoes, and a wide white silk ribbon for her curly lop ear. Hilary dug through an old, flaking leather trunk and came up with a long black velvet gown with a white apron for Mrs. Fox and a bellboy’s uniform with shiny brass buttons for Mr. Rabbit. 

Christmas Eve morning was a whirlwind of activity. Betty, Troll, and Hilary spent the morning after a quick oatmeal-and-fruit breakfast putting the finishing touches on various gifts. Maple and Eagle helped Puppy and Mr. Rabbit decorate the ballroom with pine wreaths and garlands. Eagle was a huge help. He could dust the chandelier with his tail feathers, put the star on the top of the Christmas tree in the living room, and reach the highest spots to hang garlands and banners. 

They all gathered around the stage in the ballroom after a lunch of hot vegetable soup and cheese sandwiches. Hilary wore green velvet and fur-trimmed cape and old-fashioned bonnet she’d found in the attic for their Christmas Carol reading. Troll’s old-fashioned suit still hung off him like drapes on the living room window and his silk top hat looked absurdly small on his enormous head, but the navy blue did look rather nice on that sickly green skin of his. 

She hadn’t appeared on stage in over a year and a half, but the moment they stepped out together and Mr. Rabbit threw a spotlight…actually, a large lamp from the library…on them, it was like she never left. Troll was the perfect partner. He knew how to play off of her, when to let her command, and when to command himself. It was like they’d been appearing together for years. It just felt…right. 

His reading of the Ghost of Christmas Present in particular threw chills down her spine. When he “showed” her the make-believe children under his navy jacket, she jumped away,  truly afraid. When he cackled as the old man gathering scraps from the charwoman and the undertaker, she gasped in horror. It wasn’t just that he was already terrifying. It was the way his eyes looked. He made her believe it.

When they read “God Bless us, every one!” they took their bows to overwhelming applause. Bear’s big paws alone rang through the ballroom. “Hey,” he said with a cheeky grin, “you two were really good! You should have an act!”

Troll grinned that wide, toothy, boyish smile. “Maybe we should.” 

She had to grab his hand to keep from ending up on the stage. “Yes, maybe we should. Um, you know, I still have things to finish, and we have to prepare for that party. Why don’t I, um, meet you at the entrance to the ballroom at 7, right after dinner?” 

He nodded, rubbing her hand. “And then, maybe you’ll be ready to answer my proposal.”

She could barely breathe. “Maybe then, I will.” She ran all the way back to her room, ignoring her sisters’ calling her to help them decorate the Christmas tree in the living room. She needed time to think and process everything…but if the pounding of her heart and her head were any indication, she already knew the answer. 

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 47

Hilary couldn’t have been more excited that night. Puppy helped her get her into that red velvet gown they found in the attic. Thank heavens she’d vetoed the corset. The gown itself was hard enough to climb into! They hadn’t found shoes that fit, so she wore her own red heels. 

“There!” Puppy nestled the small gold plated tiara in her auburn curls. “Miss Hilary,” she breathed, “you look incredible! Like the Austrian queens from my history books. You are truly an inspiration.”

“I am, aren’t I?” She turned and straightened the white bow on Puppy’s ear. “You look rather nice yourself. That dress is very sweet on you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Puppy blushed the color of the red dress under her gold fur. It did look adorable. They even found white stockings and a white lace apron for her. “I haven’t dressed up like this since…well,” she coughed a bit, “in a long time.”

She patted the girl on her shoulder. “Why don’t you run along and have fun? It’s Christmas Eve. Troll will be along to pick me up any minute.” 

“Oh, thank you, Miss Hilary!” Her doggy grin lit up the bedroom. “And merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” She chuckled as the girl nearly ran into the door hurrying out. She was a little dear. If anything, Pavla should have been horsewhipped for hurting that poor child, even inadvertently. She couldn’t have been more than 15 or 16, and she certainly didn’t deserve being trapped by a curse.

She remembered the last time she and Jeff went dancing before…before he went to Europe. They’d gone dancing at the newly-opened Stork Club in New York, and it was as if time stopped. Paul Whiteman played “Honeysuckle Rose” and “I’ll Always Be In Love With You.” They danced until closing, so wrapped up in each other, a janitor had to tell them it was last call. 

She swirled to the music in her head, remembering that last night, how it had been with her tall, handsome, strong Jeff in her arms. She swore she even saw Scott Sherwood, brooding over a drink at a table in the back, his amber eyes half-drunk and perhaps, even a bit disappointed. He’d tried to ask Betty out that night, but she had writing to do and had turned him down cold. It was for the better, Hilary thought. Betty, and frankly, her Jeff, were too good for that scheming scoundrel of a manager.

Her mind was so far away as she hummed “Honeysuckle Rose,” she didn’t even hear the sounds of claws scraping on wood floors and carpet. She danced right into something hard that managed to be silky and slimy at the same time. “Oh, sorry about that.” Hilary tried to catch her breath. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s perfectly fine, Hilary.” Troll looked down at her, amusement filling those dark almond eyes. “No harm done. You look,” his own deep voice caught in his skinny throat, “so beautiful. I’ve never seen…” He coughed hard before continuing. “Well, you look fabulous like that.”

“I do, don’t I?” She nearly coughed herself when she saw what he was wearing. “Where…where did you get that?” 

She’d know that tuxedo anywhere. The last time she saw it was at the Frick Mansion…and in the nightmares she and her sisters had been having since they arrived. “Where did you get that tuxedo?” The words came out in a near-whisper as her eyes roamed over his bony frame. The pants had to be belted twice. The black jacket was crusted with slime and hung all wrong on narrow shoulders. Even the shirt billowed where it should have clung. He’d actually managed to do something with his tangled mass of mouse brown curls, tying them back with a black velvet ribbon. His horns shown with fresh polish and smelled vaguely of lemons.

“That’s Jeff’s best tuxedo!” she gasped. “How did you get it?’

“I’ve had it.” He straightened the ruby cufflinks. “I bought it last year, actually. It…fit better then.”

Hilary gulped. “It’s identical to the one my hus…ex-husband wore the last time I saw him.” And in the Dreamscape, she mentally added to herself. 

“Tuxedos do tend to look alike.” He offered her his needle-sharp elbow. “Shall we, Miss Booth-Bloom?”

All she could do was nod. She never remembered the walk from her room to the ballroom. He spoke of the excitement of the night, of the gift he had planned for her, but she didn’t hear a word. She was too swept up in the moment, in the memories she saw in those glittering dark eyes. 

They were the last ones to arrive. Mr. Rabbit played “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as they walked in the door. Puppy rushed up to her, beaming under that enormous snowy ribbon. “Oh, you both look wonderful! Master, that suit is gorgeous.” She showed them the tiny foods on her silver tray. “Did you want any grilled oysters or cucumber cups?”

Troll shook her head. “That’s all right, Eni…Puppy. We’ll eat later.”

“Hilary!” Betty waved at them. “You two look wonderful! Like a real prince and princess.” 

“Yeah, Master look good! Hilary pretty!” Bear sported a white silk shirt and black trousers. It was more likely they couldn’t find a jacket or black tie that fit his hulking frame. Still, he certainly wasn’t unattractive, for a bear. The smile a mile wide on his snout helped, even with those sharp canines. “Bear like party. Nice song. Good food.” He gently rubbed Betty’s gloved hand. “Pretty lady. Bear with pretty Betty.” 

“Thank you, Bear.” Her dark eyes locked with his amber ones as she held his paw in her gloved hand. “Why don’t we get some of those cucumber cups, then start dancing? I want to talk about our gifts for the others tomorrow.”

Bear nodded. “We eat. Then, we dance.” His snout and bristly whiskers fell. “Bear not dance good. Not dance good before…when he…” He whimpered a bit and rubbed his temple. “Well, before.”

“I’ll help you.” Betty rubbed his paw gently. “I helped you in the music room, didn’t I? I’m not the best at it, but I doubt anyone will be looking at us anyway.” She led him to Mrs. Fox, looking regal in her black velvet gown, as she handed around appetizers.

“Hi, you two! Hey, you look amazin’!” Maple almost literally dragged Eagle across the floor, her golden train trailing behind her like a sequined caboose. Eagle wore all black, black silk shirt and black trousers, though someone had managed to get a white bow tie on his fluffy feathered neck. His feathers were perfectly preened, and his wings shown in the soft light of the chandelier. 

His whiskey eyes roamed over Hilary and Troll before he gave them a happy squawk and an approving nod. He’d even cleaned his talons. “He thinks ya look great, too. Come on!” She tugged his wing. “Let’s go get the snacks, before Bear eats ‘em all. You know what his appetite is like!” 

Hilary chuckled as she dragged him off. “She’s something else. Poor Eagle! She’s going to yank his wing out of the socket if she keeps throwing him around like that all night.”

“I don’t think he minds that much. I haven’t seen him so much in love since…” He coughed. “Well, in a long time.” He gave her that oddly boyish, toothy grin of his as Mr. Rabbit started playing “The First Noel” and bowed low for her. “Would the fairest queen in all of Pittsburgh mind dancing with a lowly troll such as I?”

Hilary curtsied for him. “I see no troll, good sir. I see a gracious prince.” 

She hadn’t danced so much since that last trip with Jeff. They whirled to every Christmas carol Miss Organ knew, and probably a few Mr. Rabbit and Maple had looked up for the night. They talked about their Christmas Carol performance earlier in the day. They talked about the differences between acting for the stage and acting on radio. Hilary was fully against it. She wanted to be seen by a live audience. Troll said live audiences were all well and fine, but on radio, you could play more roles in an hour than any stage or film actor played in their entire lifetime, and you weren’t limited to what people expected you to play either.

Even as she leaned her head on his narrow shoulder during “The First Noel,” her eyes roamed to her sisters. Betty’s head was pillowed on Bear’s broad silk-decked shoulder, her eyes closed. They were barely moving, which was probably a good thing. Bear had spent most of the night stepping on her toes. Maple was enveloped in Eagle’s wings, which closed around her as they whirled around the dance floor. 

“You know,” she began, “I never thanked you for letting my sisters stay. I’ve never seen either of them as happy as they are here. Betty’s not permanently attached to her typewriter anymore. And Maple…well, all she can talk about is flying and what’s going on in Europe. At least your friend gave her something to do.”

“I’ve never seen Eagle and Bear this happy, either. Not even…” He coughed. “Well, I’m glad I changed my mind about them being here. Bear is devoted to Betty. He lights up when she comes into the room. He goes out of his way to be with her. Sco…” He coughed again, “ let’s say he’s always been crazy about her. And Maple being able to drag Eagle outside to do something other than feed his beak is nothing short of a miracle.”

“This has been one of the loveliest Christmas Eves I’ve had in years.” She wrapped her arms around Troll, leaning into his crusty white shirt. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to any kind of a party, let alone one like this. Especially in the arms of a wonderful man.”

Troll’s almond eyes widened. “You think I’m a wonderful man?” 

She turned nearly as red as her heavy velvet gown. “I…well, yes. I mean, you have the worst temper I have ever seen, but you’re so good to those roses. You nurture them like they’re children. And you have been better about helping around here and encouraging Bear to solve those codes for the past few weeks. It’s like…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s like you’re someone I know, or knew. Someone I thought I lost. But…”

Troll gently lifted her chin to gaze into her own dark eyes. “Hilary, it’s more than that. I’m closer than you think. Hilary, would you marry me? I have a gift for you. Something very, very special, too big to wrap under the tree. It’s…”

“Hey Hilary!” Maple shook Hilary’s arm. “We’re gonna sing carols together. You guys wanna join us?”

Hilary hoped they couldn’t hear how hard her heart was beating. It seemed to be hammering right out of her chest! “We’ll be there in a minute, Maple!” She flashed Troll a flirtatious grin. “Hold that thought?”

He gently took her hand. “I can wait tonight for your answer, but not much longer. I need to know by New Year’s Eve.”

“Yes, well, why don’t we just join the others?” She took his hand and tugged him over to Maple and Bear at the grand piano.

The piano had been polished until it gleamed the day before. It was a little out of tune, but Maple could play just about anything. She was surprised at how well Bear managed to do, even with his claws. They started with “Go Tell It On the Mountain,” Maple’s luminous soprano somehow melding with Bear’s deep, gravely growls. Betty leaned over them, her hands gently resting on their shoulders as she added her gentler soprano. 

Hilary would have given anything for her whole family to have been there. She could almost hear Father’s own lusty baritone. He was actually quite a singer. Used to have an act with her mother around the turn of the century, before they had children and opted to settle down. Puppy’s sweet little soprano would have worked nicely with C.J’s tenor, if one could actually get him to sing at all. C.J always said he preferred to be behind the scenes. He’d probably be more interested in figuring out how the rigging on the chandelier worked.

They’d just started “Silent Night” when Mrs. Fox tapped her on the shoulder with her paw. “Hilary, there’s a phone call for you. It’s your brother.”

“I’ll get him.” Hilary nodded, rubbing Troll’s shoulder. “We were going to call them later tonight or tomorrow anyway.” She gave him a kiss on his warty cheek before heading into the hallway. 

Mr. Cat was there with the phone. “It’s your brother, Miss Hilary. Said it was urgent and I was to get you right away.”

Hilary nodded. “Thank you. Hi, C.J. Merry Christmas!”

Her brother’s gentle voice sounded anything but merry. “Hilary…it’s Dad. He’s sick. He’s coughing, and he has a fever and a raspy sound when he breathes. We’ve had the doctor here, and he prescribed medicine, but I’m worried. He’s…he’s not good, that’s for sure, and I don’t really know what to do for him.”

She nodded, her face tightening. “You want us to come home? It might be best. It sounds like he needs more nursing than you can give. Not to mention, I know what the Nixon’s schedule is like at this time of year. You have your job to do.” 

“Hilary,” C.J started, “you don’t have to. What will your friend the monster say?”

“He’s not a monster!” Hilary’s protests came out more violently than she’d planned. “He’s…I think he’s…well, he’s not what he looks like. I’ll explain it when I’m home. I don’t know how we’ll get a cab on Christmas Eve, but we’ll manage.” 

“Hilary,” C.J protested, “you don’t have to do this…”

“Nonsense! You two need us. We’ll help with Dad, then come back here in a few days.” She narrowed her eyes. “Besides, I want to talk to Pablum at the Nixon. I think she has everything to do with what happened to these people. What she did to poor Bear alone would probably have her locked up for observation in ten states.”

C.J sighed. “Hilary…”

“My mind is made up. Tell Dad we’ll be home by midnight.” She put the phone down and handed it to the kindly old white feline in the rumpled tuxedo. “Mr. Cat, would you be so kind as to call a taxi for my sisters and me? We need to go home for a few days. Our father is very sick, and he needs us.”

Mr. Cat wisely nodded. “You need only ask.”

“I’m asking.”

She hurried back to the ballroom as soon as Mr. Cat got on the phone. They’d just wrapped up “Away In a Manger” and were discussing opening gifts early. “Troll,” she said, “I’m sorry, but the ladies and I must take our leave. We have to go home. Dad is very, very sick. It might be pneumonia." 

“What?” Betty’s eyes widened. “Is he ok? What about C.J?”

“Dad’s sick?” Maple frowned. “I hate to break this up. I’m really havin’ fun. But…”

“But Dad needs us.” She turned to Troll. “We’ll be back before New Year’s, just as long as it takes to get Dad back on his feet.”

Troll’s almond eyes were unreadable, but he clenched his jaw. “You do what you think is right. We won’t be here when you come back.”

“Don’t be silly! It’ll only be a few days!”

“We won’t be here.” Troll glared at the others. “The party is over. Mrs. Fox, you and Eagle clean up this mess. Puppy, help the women pack. Mr. Rabbit, move Miss Organ back to the music room. Bear, take the food in the kitchen. Now.” 

No one moved. It was Bear who broke the spell after what felt like an eternity, but was really a minute or two. He broke into sobs and dashed upstairs, rushing back into the ballroom with what looked like a box in his arm. “Betty,” he sniffled, “take this. Bear write it. Write it when you working in room. Not good writing. But good story. Bear make it himself. For Betty. He knows…Betty come back.” 

“Of course I will!” She hugged him. “Thank you! This is so sweet of you. I’ll read it when we get home.” 

Eagle just leaned into Maple. “Yeah, Prince Charmin’.” She rubbed his back. “I’ve got somethin’ for you, too. Ordered ya some real dancin’ records from the Sears Robebuck catalog. I’ll give ‘em to you on the way out. You can listen to ‘em and practice our dance for New Year’s Eve.” He squawked softly and rubbed her back, his own whiskey eyes flooding with hope.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Puppy choked back her own sobs. “Can’t you stay for Christmas?”

“Oh sweetie, we’ll be back!” Betty hugged her. “And when I get back, I’ll read that story you’ve been working on, ok?”

The little gold dog gulped, her blue eyes wide and sorrowful. “All right, Miss Betty. I’ll continue to refine it until your return.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Troll grabbed Hilary’s arm. “You could bring your father here. I could call all the doctors in the universe.”

“He doesn’t need all the doctors in the universe! He needs us!” She yanked her arm away. “We will be back. We’re not going to be gone forever. The girls would never forgive me.” 

“Of course Betty come back!” Bear growled. “Betty not leave Bear! Not forever!”

Troll glared at him. “Go to the kitchen and do as you’re told. Clean up this mess.” 

“No!” Bear’s furious growl rattled the chandelier. “Bear go to library! He has stories to write. Bear not go to the kitchen! Not anymore!” He gave Betty a fierce, engulfing bear hug. She leaned into it, rubbing his back as he growled softly into her ear.

Troll glared around the room. “Is anyone else going to argue with me?”

Hilary narrowed her eyes. “I’m starting to wonder why I ever considered your proposal. You really are a monster, and no marriage will ever change that. I wouldn’t take a gift you gave me if it was the size of the Frick Mansion. Come, ladies. Let’s go home. Our family needs us.” Betty reluctantly followed her. Maple gave Eagle one last hug before going after them. She ignored the sounds of a Troll’s furious roar, a Bear’s heartbroken growls, and an eagle’s confused and frustrated squawks as the sobbing Puppy followed them to their rooms.

Hilary and the Beasts, Part 48

Somehow, Mr. Cat did find a cab willing to take them home at midnight. Puppy sobbed all through packing. Hilary had to send her to help Maple, because the girl-dog’s tears were ruining her good silk blouses. Mr. Rabbit and Bear helped them get their things downstairs. Eagle followed Maple with her suitcase, staring at her with those intense dark eyes, his yellow beak drooping.

“Do you have to go?” Bear whimpered again as they waited for the cab on the wide, snow-covered porch. “Can’t you stay? For Christmas Day?”

“Bear, Dad needs us. We’ll be back by the end of the week. Before that.” She tugged her old wool coat around her shoulders, then gave him a kiss on his fuzzy cheek. “You’ll keep up with your writing. Write at least an hour every day. And Eagle will help you with the codes. There’s only a few pages left to do. If you can finish that, Hilary and C.J will bring it to the FBI, and they’ll arrest Pavla.”

“Bear try. It hurts. Dark hurts. But Bear try. For Betty. For Puppy and Eagle.” He gulped. “And for Bear. Bear wait for Betty. Bear loves Betty. Bear always loved Betty. Bear always will.”

She gently pushed away the lock of shining black fur that fell over his wet amber eyes. “Betty loves Bear, too. She loves him more than anything. Don’t worry. We’ll come back. We wouldn’t abandon you.” Bear pulled her into his strong furry arms and soaked her coat with his noisy, snuffling sobs.

“Yeah, Prince Charmin’.” Maple rubbed Eagle’s shoulder. “Would I let my best guy down? We’ve gotta finish those papers, and I haven’t listened to that last record. We’ll be back before New Year’s.” She handed him a package wrapped in gold paper and huge bows. “Here’s those jazz records. Practice dancin’ for me? We’ll dance in the ballroom on New Year’s Eve.” She giggled as he rubbed at her with his beak. “Hey, you tickle!” 

Hilary gave Puppy a hug as she sobbed into her chest. “Don’t worry, dear. It’s only a few days. We’ll be right here with you on New Year’s Eve.” 

“But we might not be. You heard Master.” Hilary hated to see the young woman-dog so distraught. She was so much like her sisters when she was younger. “I’m going to miss you! Even when I can’t think…” She coughed. “Well, even when I’m different.”

She patted the girl’s back as the cab pulled up to the porch. “We’ll be back, dear. It’ll be all right.” Mr. Rabbit helped load their luggage, including Hilary’s six suitcases, into the cab.

Bear would not let Betty go. “Don’t forget Bear. Even when Bear gone. When he’s not Bear.”

She nodded, tears flowing down her own cheeks. “I won’t, Bear. Never.”

Hilary pushed Maple’s two suitcases into the trunk. “That’s it. Come along, ladies.” She made a face at Maple, who was moaning as Eagle ran his beak and wings around her neck and shoulders. “Ladies, it’s time to get going. Dad is expecting us!” 

“Hey, Hilary, I’m busy here!” Maple made a face at her sister. “See ya later, ok, Eagle?” He turned red as she gave him a kiss on his beak. 

Hilary finally dragged her away and shoved her in the back seat. She was the last person in the cab before it started and turned away from the mansion. 

She tried to focus on the job at hand on their way home. “It’ll be good to go home, won’t it?” She tried to say brightly. “We’ve been saying that we wanted to visit Dad anyway. He needs us more than a whole zoo full of enchanted animals. Certainly more than some monster of a troll.”

“Hey, Hilary?” Maple made a face as she stared at the trees and other mansions passing them. “Could ‘ya keep it down to a dull roar? I’m tryin’ to think here.” Betty said nothing, her eyes focused on the snow that started to fall softly as they pulled into downtown.

The rest of the trip passed in silence. She knew how they felt about the animals, but they’d be back in less than a week. They still had to get Eagle’s paperwork to the proper authorities. She wanted to get Pavla out of their hair for good, and it looked like this was the best way to do it. They’d get those decoded papers, she and C.J would give them to the FBI men, and that would be that.

The cab finally pulled up at their home around quarter of 1. Even that late on Christmas morning, the lights were all on. C.J was there to greet them. “Girls!” He gave them all huge hugs and helped them unload their bags. “I’m so glad to see you! I’ve missed you so much. I have so much to tell you.”

“We have plenty to tell you, too, but right now, we need to attend to Dad.” Hilary took her hat box and one of her suitcases. Where is he? His room?”

“No, he’s in the living room.” C.J grabbed the rest of Hilary’s luggage. “The doctor said his room was too drafty. Besides, he can see the Christmas tree and listen to the radio there.”

Mackie lay on the couch, listening to a choir sing “The Twelve Days of Christmas” on their cathedral radio. “Girls?” He looked over at them, coughing. It was a raspy sound, one that was more in line with the flu than Troll’s cough. His round face was ashen under the bristly gray mustache. “You’re home. I didn’t think you’d make it.” He nodded at the wrapped boxes on the table by the radio, under the tiny Christmas tree festooned with sparkling lights and the few heirloom ornaments they’d been able to retain over the years.  “Those are for you. They’re not as fancy as a monster in a mansion could give ya, but…” 

“Shh, Dad.” Hilary was by his side in an instant. “I’m sure they’re fine. Anyway, he’s not…” She stopped, breathing harder than her sick father, as she realized what she was saying. “He’s not…really a monster. He was angry when we left, but not because he was leaving. There’s some…curse…surrounding the place. Anyway,” she added briskly, “let’s not think about it now. It’s Christmas. C.J, take my things upstairs. Betty, heat Dad up some chicken soup. There’s always a stray can in the cupboard. Maple, soak a rag in cold water and bring it for his head.”

“Hilary,” Mackie wheezed, “you didn’t have to come. You said you wanted to solve that mystery. You could have stayed. Though why, I don’t know. That monster did nothin’ but scare the hell outta me!”

“First of all, he’s a troll. Not a monster. Not most of the time, anyway.” She sighed. “Second, it’s been a long night. We’ll get some soup and orange juice in you and discuss this in the morning.” 

“Hilary…” Mackie’s brown eyes were clear when they turned to her, even as his body was wracked with coughs that sounded nothing like the curse. “You love that…whatever it is…don’t ya?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, Dad. Right now, you need your rest.” 

“Ok, Hilary.” He made a face as she pushed him back down. “Whatever you say.” 

Christmas morning dawned clear and cold, the sunlight sparkling on the snow in her bare garden. She really needed to look it over, see if any work could be done while she was home. Too bad Troll had acted like such an idiot over their departure. She could really use his advice on how to bring it back to life. He hadn’t even been there to see them off.

Mackie looked a little better when they all came downstairs to open presents. Betty and C.J went off to make scrambled eggs, bacon, and stewed apples for their Christmas breakfast while she and Maple exclaimed over their gifts. Mackie appreciated his script about a father and his children from Betty, a song Maple wrote for him, and the bookmarks with the pressed roses from Hilary.

“Ginger Snap, these are really beautiful.” Mackie slid the bookmark into the script. “Did you make these yourself? I can almost smell the sweetness in the paper.”

“Not entirely.” She slid next to him on the couch. “Troll growls the most beautiful roses I’ve ever seen in that hot house, in every color of the rainbow. He nurtures them like they’re his children. He’s really very good with them.”

Mackie raised an eyebrow and coughed. “Is that why he accused me of being a thief when I took one? I didn’t think he’d mind. There were dozens on that bush!”

“I think,” Hilary added softly, “that he thinks they’re all he has. All he’ll ever have.”

“Ginger Snap,” Mackie went on as Maple and Betty opened their gifts, exclaiming over new sheet music and books. “Tell me.” He patted her hand. “You love this…thing.”

“I’m not sure.” Hilary frowned, looking down at the bookmark. “I was sure I didn’t when he blew up at our leaving. He has such a horrible temper! You should have heard him when we first came. Pushing around that poor Bear because his mind is so scrambled, ordering everyone around within firing distance, practically demanding I marry him. He was a living terror, Dad.”

“And now, Ginger Snap?” Mackie’s voice was raspy as he caught the wistful look in her dark eyes.

She looked down at the bookmark. “Now, I’m not sure anymore. I know Betty and Maple are in love with his men. Bear is such a dear and a softie, no matter what state his mind is in. Puppy’s such an intelligent little thing. I’d love to send her to high school and college alongside Betty. She really worships her. And Eagle…he used to do nothing but catch fish and sequester himself in his room. Now Maple actually got him dancing, even if he isn’t very good at it.”

“But what about you?” Her father ran a plump finger along the bookmark. She’d made it from dried scarlet roses, pressed lovingly between wax paper with Troll’s help. “How do you feel?”

“Dad,” she said softly, “there’s something…about him. He has the most beautiful eyes. They’re so familiar. I know them. They’re not the eyes of a monster. When we perform together, it’s like magic. Like we belong together. It’s…like…when Jeff and I did the tour of Razzle Dazzle. We just…fit. He knew when to let me have my spotlight, and I knew when he needed to command the stage. It was so like….like…”

“Like Jeff.” Mackie coughed again as Hilary handed up a cup of hot lemon tea with honey. “Thank you, Ginger Snap. Normally, I’m not one to believe in fairy tales, even if I am an old stage man, but does it occur to you that, between you, me, and your siblings, we have called and talked to every single person we know on the East Coast, and not a single one has seen Jeff, Scott, or Victor? I asked around. I asked people at every theater in town, at KDKA. They haven’t been anywhere.” He sipped his tea. “Ahh. Thank you, Hilary.” 

She pulled the blanket up to his chin. “I have my suspicions about that, Dad. C.J already got me tickets to The Rivals. I’m going backstage to discuss this with Pavla. He says T.J Hunnicut just vanished a few weeks ago, after she was entertaining him. From the way everyone in the mansion panics every time she’s mentioned and her turning up…” 

Now she was the one coughing. She hadn’t told Dad about the shared dreams or the other monsters in them. Not only did she not want to worry him, she suspected he might think she and her sisters were more than a little crazy. “Well, I think she has everything to do with what’s going on in that mansion. Every single creature in that building trembles when she’s mentioned, including Troll. She’s the one they’re gathering intel on. They honestly have a pretty good case on her. She’s apparently involved with some groups in Europe people over here are more than a little concerned about.”

Mackie’s eyes widened. “Ginger Snap, I don’t like this. She likely already hurt Jeff and the guys and probably Hunnicut, too. I don’t want her to do something like that to you. I’ve heard rumors, honey. They say she’s a witch…and not just of the ‘bad girl’ variety. It’s whispered that she practices black magic, the kind you read about in fairy tales and books on the supernatural. The kind you usually see in Lon Chaney movies and Betty’s Grimm’s anthologies.” 

“I’ll be all right, Dad. I can take care of myself. C.J will be back there with me, not to mention the cast of my…The Rivals. I know how to deal with Pablum.” She took his hand and gave him a squeeze. “Now, why don’t we bring out breakfast, and then maybe we’ll switch on the radio and sing carols together? After that, we’ll all play a round of canasta, just like we used to do with Mother on Christmas Day before she passed on.”

Her father’s gentle, round-cheeked smile was genuine. “Penelope would have been proud of you girls, Hilary. Especially you. And I am, too. And wherever Jeff is…I’ll bet he’s just as proud as I am.”

She nodded with a small, wistful smile. “I hope so, Dad. I only hope so.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hilary spent most of the next week tending to Mackie, heating chicken soup, making lemon tea, and making sure he took his cough medicine. Someone had to stay with him. Betty locked herself in her room the day after Christmas, barely emerging at meal times. C.J returned to his job, working extra matinees behind the scenes. Maple played records for her dear old Dad or listened to the radio with him until she’d get bored and say she was going out for a walk…but Hilary knew she was really searching the skies, looking for the familiar mahogany wings of an enormous man-eagle. 

Doug Thompson came around with gifts the day after Christmas. “Doug!” She let him in. “How are you doing?”

“Well, thank you. Merry Christmas!” He tipped his hat at her. “Where’s Mackie? Is he all right? I wanted to get the best doctors, but C.J said you were fine.”

“He’s much better. He’s napping now.” She put the brightly wrapped packages under the tree. “I suppose you’ll want Betty.”

Doug nodded, frowning, as he took off his hat. “Yes, but I wanted to talk to you, too. Hilary, after you called me this summer, I made my own inquiries at City Hall and with the real estate office that sold Jeff the mansion. She put in claims on the mansion last October, just days after Jeff returned from Europe.” He continued in a whisper. “Right before he, Scott Sherwood, and Victor Comstock vanished. Pavla says the house is legally hers, but it’s in his name.”

“That…that…OOOOH!” Hilary screamed so loudly, Maple ran in from her bedroom and Mackie nearly fell off the couch. “That’s why she married him!”

“That’s why she married who?” Mackie rubbed his head, wincing at Hilary’s shriek. “What’s going on?” He grabbed his round silver-framed glasses off the coffee table and squinted. “Oh, hi Doug. What brings you here?”

He sighed. “Partially seeing Betty, but I mostly wanted to talk to Hilary.” He took a slender box wrapped in green and gold paper out from under the tree. “Hilary, this is from me and C.J. He’s already arranged with the Nixon for you to be backstage on the 30th. Pavla is leaving the show. She’s going to New York to star in T.J Hunnicut’s newest play the week after New Year’s. If you want to talk to her about all this, now is the time.”

Hilary narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I’ll do more than talk to her. I’ll scratch her eyes out! She’ll have Jeff and that mansion over my dead body! She’s…well, I have a good idea of what happened to him, and why he’s been missing, but I need proof.”

“Maybe we should all go.” Mackie coughed. Hilary quickly handed him a cup of lemon tea that had been on the table. “Damn it, it’s cold. Left it there too long. I’m feeling a lot better. C.J might be able to wrangle you girls tickets, and I still have connections.”

“Oh no, Dad, you are not going anywhere. You’re still not well enough for outings or confronting witches.” She frowned. “I’ll have C.J as back-up. Betty and Doug can sit in the audience. It’ll be good for Betty to get out and do something besides type. She’s barely emerged from her room since she got back. Maple will stay with you. She’ll fuss over missing the action, but someone needs to be here.”

“Ginger Snap, be careful!” Mackie looked up at her, his own dark eyes haunted under the round spectacles. “I lost your mother to cancer, and it almost killed me. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Dad. I know what I’m doing. No one knows more about the stage than me! Besides, I’ll have Betty and the men there.” She turned to Doug, frowning. “Now, tell me when the best time to catch Pavla backstage would be.”