(1) Everybody Scream

(1) Everybody Scream

It was a bitterly cold day in Hillcross and the snow that fell was only going to get thicker as it moved into night. Winter had arrived and the town had shaken off the garish color and chaos of the warmer months, shifting into its barest form. Soon everything would sparkle buried under a white blanket, having exchanged expansion for simplicity.

Everything was easier to see in the winter. Even the normally unspoken hierarchy among the villagers of the town bloomed like a cryophilic flower. Those at the bottom scurried around the streets in a sea of beige and olive overcoats piled thick with scarves. Hiding among them were those in the middle. Underneath the practical drudgery were layers of finery but extra effort for a coat worn for a few months a year? Or an expenditure for something so extravagant as fur ear muffs? These things were beyond even their abilities.

None of this was a problem for the members of the Bonner household. The women in their family had passed on the position of Magic Keeper for hundreds of years. Town archives were stocked with practically any information they could need. But tragedies rarely struck. No famine, no floods. Perfect seasons. And the Bonners themselves were said to be the reason why.

The houses and shops stood with their sturdy stone and old wood. The magic-mill spun at the center of the courtyard professing the magic that ran through the town. Slow and steady as always. Underneath it a group of schoolkids run around playing a game of House Rider.

The temple towered over it all as the biggest building, replete with its intricate stained glass. From the top of the temple the bell rang out with five strong chimes. An older man in a floppy hat began to light the oil lamps that dotted the edge of the town center. The children noticed and dispersed on cue. Scattered like the snow itself back to their homes for dinner.

Victoria Bonner finished her day as the current Magic Keeper. She was in her prime, having been at the job for years and knew exactly how to keep everyone happy. With a reputation for loving grandly, and being loved in return. She loved Hillcross and her job. Her children, and since the passing of her husband, a party. And she possessed enough charm to turn her love of a party into a compliment.

On this particular night it was a simple family dinner. As always there were dangers headed their way to relay. Responsibilities she would coerce them to fulfill. But most importantly she had to make sure they didn’t tear each other to pieces. Perhaps it would have required going back in time to ensure that.

Just off the east of the courtyard sat a bakery run by a robust and straightforward woman named Mrs. Willis. Victoria smiled and waved as she entered, making small talk while she paid the friendly cook. Victoria frowned at the splotches left in her blue shoes by the snow. But she was already back to smiling by the time Mrs. Willis returned with her casserole.

With the growing darkness Victoria did not notice the ice hiding in the mossy cobblestone as she finished the short walk home. It went so quickly. One moment she was walking and the next she was lying on her back as bits of ruined casserole blotted the snow to her side. There had been a gut churning crack as her head hit a chunk of stone. She was gone within seconds under an unforgiving winter sky.

Just across the courtyard in her house her three children waited impatiently. Each of her children liked to think that they inherited some of their mother’s charm.

In the case of Saint Bonner that was probably true. He was the eldest, but male. And unfortunately for him, his family had matrilineal primogeniture which made him a non-entity. But for his part Saint had managed to make his nonexistence work for him. Not in small part by learning fealty to the true next Bonner in line, Carter.

As the eldest female daughter, she was the promise of the future. She was the only future. Especially since she had just given birth to her own daughter, Violet. Carter had some sort of charm. But in truth there was a flatness that felt like being served a meal with no seasoning.

And then there was the youngest sister, Riley. In some ways the most bound. In other ways the freest. She had an undeniable charm and absolutely no interest in using it in a political sphere. And for some unknown reason, or maybe even no reason at all, she was Victoria’s favorite.

It was Riley who looked out the window, asking the other two, “Isn’t mom usually home by now?”

Carter dismissed her from the chaise lounge where she idly played with Violet. “You worry too much.”

Saint sided with Carter. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair staring into a candle flame with a vacant expression. “Yeah Riley. You worry too much.” He didn’t look away from the candle.

Riley made a confused and slightly disgusted face at Saint. It was the same face she made when they were children and he chased her around with a worm.

“Do you want to tell us what you are doing?”

Saint still didn’t look away from the candle. “I am practicing.”

Riley watched him expectantly but there was no more to the sentence. It was hard to tell if he was baiting her or just not engaging. Eventually she gave in, “Okay? Practicing what.”

“Divination in flame. A girl I was with taught me.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “You are a degenerate and an idiot.”

Carter made a noise that sounded like a mix of disgust and frustration. “Do not talk like that in front of my daughter.”

Saint finally looked away from the flame to stick his tongue out at Riley. “I am telling mom you called me that.”

“If you do, I will tell her why I said…”

Their spat was interrupted by a scream from outside that made all three of them freeze. With a snap Riley looked back out the window. She stiffened and the air forced its way out of her lungs too fast. “Something’s happened to mom.”

The way she said it was too flat.

Carter said, “You are so dramatic.”

She passed Violet to her husband Derek, who had showed up at the sound of the scream. Then she moved to stand next to Riley and look out the window. Activity fluttered outside. There was an electricity to it that made the hair on the back of Carter’s neck stand up. Something about the figure laying on the ground. Something about the way everyone kept looking at their house.

It didn’t take any words. All three of the Bonner children ran out of the house as if it had been set on fire. Perhaps it metaphorically had been.

Barely off their front stoop they were met by Mrs. Willis. She did her best to stop all three of them at once. A task at which she failed, as had Victoria anytime she had tried.

She tried to reason with them instead. She pleaded, “Let us clean her up, then you can see her. You shouldn’t see her this way.”

But this confirmation of their worst fears only made the Bonner children more determined. And together they were unstoppable.

They broke through Mrs. Willis’s substantial but still insufficient grip. Together they ran all the way until they surrounded their mother’s body as it lay on the cobblestone. And with this, their grief began. A sort of unity had taken hold.

     When they had managed to gain enough composure, they carried Victoria gently back to her house. The sisters cleaned her up and changed her into her favorite dress. Saint and Derek helped prepare the house and staff for the visitors that slowly started to arrive as they heard the news. This was not a society that feared death. But this was particularly tragic. She was so young. Still so beautiful.

     Mirrors were covered in black fabrics and armbands were distributed to the staff. The children disappeared and returned in their own black outfits. Violet wouldn’t stop crying.

     Carter answered questions from the staff about various preparations. She received the Lords and Ladies who came to pay their respects, and say goodbye. This was the way. Saint felt no dissonance at being expected to be present, yet interact with effectively no one. Every time it happened Riley looked more openly annoyed. Eventually she approached Carter.

     “Why don’t you worry about greeting guests? I would be happy to help you with the burden of helping the staff make preparations?”

     She asked it like a question, an invitation for some kind of inclusion. It was also a clear breach of etiquette.

     Carter cut Riley a frigid glance to the side but went right back to room control after. “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

     Riley tried again, “It just sounds like Violet really needs her mom right now.”

     Carter’s taut control slipped and anger showed through for just a second. “Don’t ever tell me what my daughter needs. This moment is extremely important. If you can’t respect that then you need to leave.”

Riley looked at Carter, blinking and confused. A Lady approached them, putting a gentle hand on Carter’s arm. And just like that Carter turned away from Riley with a kind and mournful look. Carter and the woman walked away in conversation leaving Riley there without any acknowledgement.

     Riley stood partly stunned and mostly devastated. After a minute Saint materialized with a plate of food in his hands.

     “You doing alright kiddo?”

     “No. Carter wants me to leave.”

     Saint shook his head with a chuckle. “You always know how to make me laugh, but I don’t know if now is the time.”

     Riley shook her head. It was clear Saint still didn’t believe her for another minute because as soon as he did, he became very serious.

     “You must have misunderstood.” He watched Riley carefully. “Unless you were trying to do something.”

     Riley narrowed her eyes. “What could I have done that should get me kicked out of our mother’s funeral?”

     “I don’t know. You’re always doing something.”

Riley looked at Saint with her mouth hanging open.

     Saint fell back, “Look. It’s been a lot and it’s gotten late. How about you go upstairs and lay down while we will handle this for a while.”

     It wasn’t phrased as a question.

     Riley spat back, “I can’t believe you two.”

     With a look of heartbreak, she climbed the stairs. She paused for a moment outside her own childhood bedroom but turned around and went to the opposite room instead. Their mom’s room. She laid down in the bed and fell asleep crying.