Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

bidding. Aunt Fern laughed.
    "I told you this would be interesting and fun, Morty. All my relatives are quite amusing." She scooped her arm under his and they walked after Charlotte.
    "Oh," she said, turning back to Gavin and me. "Don't let us interrupt you. Go right on and do what you usually do." She threw her head back and laughed.
    Gavin turned to me. He didn't have to say it. We both knew: as quickly as we had found this wonderful and magical world, it was gone.

 
    14

THE BUBBLE BURSTS
     
    OUT OF SPITE, AUNT FERN DECIDED THAT THE ONLY bedroom suite good enough for her and Morton was Charlotte's parents' suite. I thought Aunt Fern was malicious and gleeful about it because she didn't change her mind when she saw how much her decision had disturbed poor Charlotte. The idea of someone else sleeping in that bedroom obviously terrified Charlotte. It was as if her father could still punish her for permitting it. Not that she had much choice. Aunt Fern was adamant, even though the room needed a thorough cleaning.
    "No one's slept in here for years and years," Charlotte emphasized. "It ain't been used since . . . since my daddy passed away."
    "Well, then it's time it was," Aunt Fern replied undaunted. She found the light switch and turned on the overhead fixture, which revealed even more dust, grime, and cobwebs. "Princess," Aunt Fern said, turning to me, her hands on her hips, "go get some clean rags, a pail of hot soapy water, and wash down all the windows and clean all the furniture."
    "That's a lot of work to start doing this late, Aunt Fern," I said. "Why don't you just choose a room that's not so dirty tonight."
    "That's a good idea," Gavin added.
    Aunt Fern flicked him a scathing glance and then turned to me, smiling scornfully, cruelly.
    "First, I doubt that any room is any cleaner anyway, and second, I like this room. Why should it have been so neglected all this time?" she asked as if she really cared. "And why are they using these old oil lamps and candles if the electricity works?"
    "They don't mind and it's expensive to run electricity through such a big house," I explained. She smirked.
    "They're living rent free," Fern said. "They have no real expenses."
    She continued to parade through the suite, deliberately turning on every lamp. She stopped at the vanity table to examine the jars of dried creams and makeup, the old brushes and combs.
    "What's all this junk doing here?" she asked. "It should have been thrown out long, long ago. Bring a garbage bag up here," she ordered.
    "Oh no," Charlotte said, shaking her head and smiling as if the idea was ridiculous. "That's all my mother's things."
    "So?" Fern replied with indifference. "Your mother's dead, isn't she? She isn't going to need makeup and combs anymore." She ran her finger over the mirror, drawing a thick line through the dust. "Don't forget this mirror, Princess. Get it shining."
    "Who do you think Christie is . . . your slave?" Gavin demanded. Aunt Fern peered at both of us through her dark, angry slits.
    "Oh, I'm sure Christie doesn't mind pleasing her favorite aunt," she replied. "I'm her favorite aunt because I always keep her little secrets," she added, smiling. "Right, princess?"
    Gavin and I exchanged looks of frustration while Aunt Fern continued to examine the suite, her eyes settling on the bathroom. She marched to it and inspected the sink and tub.
    "Bring up a pail full of disinfectant, too. I expect these fixtures to shine when you're finished," she told me. "You'll have to get down on your hands and knees and scrub this floor. I won't permit my bare feet on such a dirty surface."
    "That'll take hours!" I cried.
    "Oh dear, oh dear," Charlotte whimpered.
    "I'm really surprised no one's done this room before," Aunt Fern complained and turned back to Charlotte. "Why my sister-in-law and my brother let you run down this place and do all these stupid things to it is beyond me. It's still a piece of property with some value to it, isn't it? Morton?"
    "It has a certain residual value," Morton said with disinterest. "Land's always worth something, even though the buildings are in disrepair."
    "I just love this bed though," Aunt Fern said, going to it and stroking the post. "It's quite an elegant piece. And look at the work in this dresser and this armoire," she said indicating the carvings.
    "Yes, the furniture is worth something," Morton agreed.
    "Christie," Aunt Fern said, turning on me. "Why haven't you gone for the pail of soap and