Seven

"Miss Isle!" I heard Tasha call desperately, “Oh! Miss Isle!

Where ever could you �" ahh!”

 

With a thud of two objects colliding and a smack of water, a profound silence washed over.

 

"Tasha." a deep husky voice broke through.

 

"Se-Sean!” Tasha stuttered, "m-my-my dearest

apologize!”

 

There was a clatter of movement. Tasha was most likely hovering over Sean.

 

"Sheesh! My mom al-always t-told me that I-I was clu-clumsy!” She babbled. "I remember when I-I to-told my family t-that I was g-going to be a-uh-a maid. Oh, how they laughed! Th-they said I'd-I'd be a horrible maid, oh yes they did! I remember how s-sad I-I was because they k-kept making fun of me, but th-thankf-fully I go-got -".

 

"Shut up." Sean said. 

 

He just simply said in monotone. It was not a shout; it was actually lower in volume then Tasha's voice. Someone who had never met Sean before would have probably never have heard him, and just idiotically keep talking. But Tasha knew Sean; she obeyed his command immediately and did not utter another word.

This was the frightfulness of Sean. He could walk into the servants’ mess hall, women gossiping like hens, and cackling at their own amusement. Men quarreling at their own ideas, and commenting on the food with great audacity. Sean would only enter this chaotic fortress and all would be silent and submissive.

This was because of Sean’s overbearing pride. Sean had the air of an aristocrat around him. An air filled with elegance and poise. He was not like the other servants, who would keep their heads lowered with respect in front of my family. No, he would hold his head high with defiance, and look my parents straight in their eyes. Because of his arrogant personality it wasn't uncommon for guest to think Sean was a �"was another guest.

It would be easy for me to say that guests believed Sean was a member of the family. But that was not true, a guest never thought Sean was family, they instead believed he was a guest. If my family told a guest that Sean was a cousin they would be surprised. Not because he doesn't look like the family, Sean has the same rare jet black hair as my mother and I, it would be believable. But they wouldn't believe us because Sean’s does not have the same
aristocratic air as us. Sean’s air is much stronger than ours. My parents are members of the gentry; they are common people who found wealth. Sean does not appear to be a member of the gentry; no instead he appears to be Nobility. If we told a guest that Sean was family they would be surprised, because Sean gives the feeling that he is above us.

If one day, someone came and said Sean was the son of the Queen, I would have no trouble believing it. No one in the Manor would doubt it. Everyone truly believes that Sean is more than just a servant. He is elegant, proud and intelligent. The first year Sean arrived, he read all 50 books, which belong to the servants, in a period of 5 months. Mother had been amused by him and granted him access to our library. As a reward, for reading all the servants' books, or so she says.

The servants get one day off a month and they usually head into town for that day. They always return with sweets and knickknacks. The women always buy themselves perfumes, cakes, chocolates, hats, scarves, handkerchiefs, even the occasional dress. They return and flaunt their newly purchased items in front of each other. Each hoping for the green, envious eyes of the other maids. They desire to be hated by other women, whether they are family, friends or foes, they do not care. It is something that I do not understand about older women, mother says it is because I am a child. But I doubt I'll understand even when I become older.

While the maids try to out do each other, the butlers return home with the stench of alcohol. I have never liked this scent for it makes my nose ache with displeasure. Unlike the women, the men head to the local pub and drink themselves poor. When they return, they smoke cigars deep into the night. The butler’s dormitory welcomes the grey, misty figures that dance over the drunken men. These figures adore constricting my lungs and nestling themselves in the thread of my clothing. They bury themselves so deeply that, Mrs. Vik scowls me, when her nose senses them. This is the norm for the servants on their days off, but for Sean it is not.

Sean awakes at an ungodly hour, one that has the sun still asleep under its cover. The dew glistens in the moonlight, mimicking the stars above. The animals still nestled warmly with sleep; even Apollo is still deeply slumbering. While all are sleeping, a wide eyed Sean heads towards our library. For the rest of the day he sits at an ancient table in the corner. The poor table is forced to bear the weight of the books he reads. He reads it all: mystery, history, romance, mythology, science, horror, comedy, classic, modern, fiction, memoirs and biographies.  He’ll waste the day alone in that library reading till the moon is placed in the sky once more. Then he’ll close his books, and finally head to bed. It has been 3 years since Sean was given permission to use our library, and since then he has already read the entire library twice, this is his third time. Sean is a strict, educated, and elegant man. 

It might have been for this reason that my father made Sean the Head butler. This is a great accomplishment, since most Heads are usually in their late 50's or 60's. They are nothing more then bitter, wrinkled, old men. Hans, on the other hand, became Head Butler at the age of 20. He is the most successful person, other then my father, at the Manor. He governs the men with an iron fist, making them hate, fear, and love him. While the women only fear and hate him.

I have heard the maids’ gossip more then once about what a magnificent man Sean is. 

 

"He has the highest income!"

 

"He is of foreign mix!"

 

"He's so strong!"

 

"He's so intelligent!"

 

"He's a gentleman!"

 

"He's so Handsome!"

 

Yes, Sean was handsome. Even my child mind could comprehend that. His jet black hair was brushed and well-groomed. His straight groomed eyebrows seemed to float above his iceberg blue almond eyes. His cheek bones were not too high and not too low, adding that with his average cheeks gave him a long oval shaped face. His full lips sat neutral under his soft, Greek nose. His face was simple perfection. He was perfection. Sean was rich (for a servant), handsome, educated, well-mannered, and simple. Sean is perfect, but the maids hate him.

 

"Why are all the maids always fawning over Sean?" I once inquired.

"Do they wish to marry him?"

 

"Oh heavens no!" Adele had replied "They loathe Sean"

 

"Why? They always speak of his perfection!"

 

"Oh, child. You don't understand. Sean is near perfection, but he has one flaw."

 

"What? Only one! That is less then my father! Why do they dislike him over just one flaw?!"

 

"Sean's flaw is the worst flaw! It cancels out, all of his perfection.”

 

"Really?" I had spoken skeptically, "Then what is it?"

 

"Sean."

 

"Sean what?" I said confused.

 

"That is the flaw. Sean."

 

"...I...I don't...understand? Are you saying the reason the maids dislike Sean is because of Sean?"

 

"Somewhat. They dislike Sean because he is Sean"

 

"...That makes absolutely no sense!"

 

"Yes it does. If you took Sean characteristics and gave it to any other man, the maids would not think twice before they attacked him. The moment that man entered this manor, he would be married in an instant. But, because Sean is Sean, the maids hate him"

 

Ever since that conversation with Adele, I have been confused. How can the maids not wish to marry Sean, just because he is Sean? I recall telling my mother this and she agreed with Adele. Mother said that when I get older, I will understand. But I don't believe so, I will never understand.

"What are you doing here?"

Sean’s abrupt voice knocked me out of my thoughts, causing me to slightly kick the wooden wall of my dark haven. I reeled my leg back, clutching it with my hands and praying to the Lord that I had not been heard.

"You should be with the other maids, Tasha!"

 

Oh! Thank you Lord! I have not been discovered!

"Don't tell me you're trying to skip work!?" suspicion was lodged in his voice

"No! I'm not!" 

Sean is known for severely punishing, anyone that does not work or messes up on work. Tasha, being a clumsy girl, is a constant offender. Sean is always placing sadistic punishments on her, making her do impossible, mundane tasks. Such as, sweeping the ball room floor with a handkerchief or having to count how many pages each book in the library has by sundown. Tasha knows that when she sees Sean, she has to work hard to be understood, or she'll get punished.

"Then why are you in the East Wing! You know that men are only allowed in -" He paused. "Don't tell me" Sean’s voice was slightly shaking. "Don't you dare-"

"What is it Sean?" Tasha squeaked nervously.

"You're here to meet a butler, aren't you!?" Sean’s voice flared with anger. "Why you insolent little -"

"No!" Tasha screeched desperately "No! You got it wrong, Sean. Adele! She um - She-"

"Adele!" Sean’s voice was rising with anger. “Well, Adele may overlook you having an affair with a butler, but, I shall show you no mercy!"

I truly pitied Tasha. The East Wing was the Butler's Dormitory and the West Wing was the Maid's Dormitory. Men were not allowed in the West Wing and women are not allowed in the East Wing. It was clear to me that Tasha was sent by the maids, so only she would get in trouble.

"No!" She cried. "Please, listen to me, Sean! It's not what you think!"

"Really now!?” Sean spoke skeptically. “Then explain! If there is even one fault in your story, I will not hesitate to fire you! Do you understand!?”

“Yes sir! Um, y-you see, Adele se-se-sent me because Miss Isle is miss-missing! Sh-sh-she’s hiding so she doesn’t have t-to go to the wedding!” Tasha’s voice was becoming a high pitch squeaking. “Adele thinks Miss Isle is hiding in the E-e-east W-w-wing!”

“I don’t believe you. Is this really true?”

“It is! Ah swear! Ah swear Sean!” Her voice cracked and was more incomprehendable then before. “Ah nee’ ta find ‘iss Isle! Ahh af ta ‘ring ‘er back!! ‘lease believe meh! ‘lease!”

Tasha was now sobbing hysterically. Poor Tasha, Hans had frightened her to tears. At moments like these, Sean was nothing more then a cold-blooded reptile. 

“Tasha!” Sean yelled veraciously. “Stop this excessive crying! You’re a full grown woman, not a child!”

“Yes,” she sounded so small and breakable. “Forgive me, sir”

The soft sound of crying and abrupt gasps could be heard. Tasha was probably trying to stop herself from crying, and failing. The quick breaths and gentle sobbing calmed but did not vanish. There was a soft rustle of fabric.

“Here, take it”

“Thank you”

“I apologize.”

“Its okay, Sean”

The flare of Tasha’s nostrils stood sharply against the descending volume. Sean had most likely given Tasha his handkerchief. It was times like these, that one of Sean’s secret characteristics appeared, one that only I knew of. His brotherly instinct. Sean is usually unmoved; he can control himself and his emotions. Some would say that he is cold and expressionless; I believed this for some time. But in fact, Sean can show sweet kindness at special moments, especially to Tasha. He’ll bully her to tears one minute, and then make her smile the next. Many say that Tasha is so pitiful, that even Sean can’t help but act like this. But I believe that there is a deeper meaning.

While Sean keeps getting promoted, Tasha is getting demoted. Sean is now one of Tasha’s supervisors; they are far apart in status. But there once was a time when both of them were of the same rank. Tasha and Sean were both 19 years of age, when they arrived to work at the Manor (Tasha arrived 1 week after Sean).

2 weeks after their arrival, my parents held a dinner party. Since Tasha and Sean were new, they were handed the mundane job of washing dishes. Apparently, one of the older maids had tricked Tasha into stealing a bottle of wine from the cellar. When Tasha was handing the bottle over to the maid, Sean found them. He ripped the bottle out of the maid’s hands, and forced her to leave the kitchen. He screamed at Tasha, and then they both proceeded to put the bottle back in the cellar.  Either by accident or Tasha’s pure stupidity, they got trapped in the cellar. They spent the night in there and were not found until noon the next day. 

When they were found, 6 bottles of wine were broken and Tasha’s apron and bonnet were stained dark red. Even so, she still had her usual dreamy look. Her face was peaceful and imaginary, almost like she was mythical fairy.  Sean on the other hand was a total mess.

He looked like he had been to hell and back. His perfectly groomed hair looked as if it had gone through a twister, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was a sickly yellow. When Mrs. Vik found out that Tasha tried to steal a bottle of wine, she was furious.

Everyone says that Mrs. Vik actually fired Tasha and the other maid. Tasha would have left if not for Sean. He ran into my father’s study, sat on his knees and bowed. He begged and begged for Tasha not to be fired. My father, being the generous man he is, allowed Tasha to keep working at the Manor. Sean then worked his first year without pay, to be able to pay back the 6 bottles that were broken. 

From that day on Sean was strict with Tasha. He was constantly scowling and punishing her. Everyone says the only reason he begged for her to stay, was so he could act on revenge. Apparently, everyone believes that Tasha did something horrid to Sean, and that he has held a grudge since then. But I have my own opinion; I believe that Sean sees Tasha as a sister. The way Sean acts around Tasha gives me the impression of how Erich acts around me.

 Erich will bully me and make my days horrid. He points out my flaws and judges them harshly. He is the worst critic, and has more than once caused me to cry. He will bring me unhappiness, then switch moods and be sweet towards me.

 He will play with me when I am sad, and speak of candy-coated dreams. He'll turn my melancholy tears into vivacious giggles. He'll be kind, mocking and protective.

The moment I am surrounded by danger, he is protective. He will protect me because, as he says, "It is an older brother's duty!” This is my relationship with my brother. We care for each other, yet we only give the appearance of people who despise each other. We depend and protect one another. This relationship is the same as Sean and Tasha's. Sean sees Tasha, they same way Erich sees me.

To them, we are ditzy, little girls that always seem to get into trouble. We are entertaining to tease, because they are mean boys, who hold their seniority above our heads. They hover over us and annoy us. But we love them regardless. This is a Big Brother and Little Sister relationship.

 

"Come, Tasha", Sean cooed "wipe your tears"

 

"I'm sorry Sean. I'm nothing but a screw up"

 

"Don't think like that Tasha. You try harder than anyone to be a maid, but because you try so hard, you tend to speed through your work, and end up messing up. If you just calm yourself, you'll be an amazing maid"

Sean’s voice held a soft tenderness. The same that lived in my fathers mouth, when he told my mother he loved her. It was spoken delicately, but it held a strong meaning. You could barely hear his voice, yet the words were loud in your heart. It was quite a peculiar tone.

 

"Really?" Tasha had been restored, to a child, speaking with shy, innocence. "A maid like Emma?"

 

"Ye-Yes. Just like uh like Emma."

I swallowed my laughter. It was cute that Tasha aspired to be like her friend, Emma. But some goals can not be reached. It was impossible for Tasha to be like Emma, even Adele could not be like her. Emma was special, she was just like Sean. They were perfect humans that for some reason worked as servants. Emma was an affectionate, intelligent and beautiful woman. She was the first person not to swoon over Sean. She was perfection, a perfection that was not reachable to normal people, much less Tasha. I have never heard Sean lie, but for him to lie to Tasha about something like this is shocking. Sean must know that Tasha cannot be like Emma, so why did he lie? Just to make her feel better? This will only raise her standards, causing a farther drop when reality hits. I do not understand Sean's reason.

"Thank you, Sean"

There was a slight pause and then a small acute sound.

"Tasha!!" Sean yelped in shock.

Giggles broke out, sounding like silver bells.

 

"Thank you" Tasha spoke with honey.

 

"Y-You’re welcomed." Sean stammered.

 

An awkward silence followed, and laid in the air for what seemed all eternity.

"Um...Tasha, didn't you say you need to find Miss Ilse?" Sean asked meekly.

 

"Oh! I almost forgot!" she exclaimed “Sean, do you know, any where she could be?"

 

"Actually, yes I do" he said arrogantly.

 

There was a sudden tapping of them walking. It happened so quickly that I had no chance to react. The portrait covering my haven was removed. The light burst through, blinding me for an instant. My eyes had become a kaleidoscope. First, a dark rain cloud drifted in front of my eyes, and then dark bubbles bounced irregularly. Lastly, they turned into insignificant atoms, turning on and off like light bulbs. When these images disappeared, I finally saw the tragedy that was before me. 

Sean stood at the opening of my haven, drenched in what I believed was water. His black hair dangled in front of his ice blue eyes. For such cold eyes, they burned a hole through me. Tasha stood behind him. Her head was cocked to the side as she tried to peer into the hole. Her brown eyes were wide and round, her furry red eyebrows were arched high. She had her right forefinger in her mouth; reminded me of a baby sucking its thumb. A baby; innocent, and
unknowing of the world around it, that was Tasha. A simpler definition would be: An idiot.

 

"Well, look what I found!" Sean spoke sarcastically "A rat hiding in the walls."

He reached into my haven, and I scooted myself further back trying to escape his hands. But I hit that back of the wooden hole. Sean placed his hands underneath my armpits and started to pull me out, but I would not give up without a fight! I placed my hands and feet at the sides of the wooden walls, and with all my might, I pushed myself back.  Sean smirked and his eyes glinted with amusement. He accepted my challenge. He gripped me tighter and with one forceful tug, yanked me out of my hole. The strength of a 10 year old girl could never match that of a 23 year old man. Hans dangled me in midair, his smirk thickened with triumph. 

"Now what shall I do with this rat?" he taunted “Shall I feed her to the dogs?"

"Unhand me, servant!" I sneered. 

"Servant? Hmph! Maybe we should teach you manners instead!" He bit back bitterly.

We glared at each other. Our eyes were having an epic war, his winter ice eyes verses my spring forest eyes. I must admit that if this were a real war, I would have lost 100 times already. Sean's glare was intense and durable, while mine was meek and cracked under pressure. I had been warned by mother many times of this.

 

"lsle, don't glare at Sean.” Mother told me one day in the parlor. She had been busy with her needle work and didn’t even look up to look at me “You will never win."

"What! Why not? I believe I can win against him, Mother"

“No. You cannot.” she said.

 

Her eyes had been glued to her fingers as they had created an illustration. Mother’s hands were beautiful, with long delicate fingers. They had mesmerized me with their swift movement; they seemed to be floating over her work. They had twisted and turned the golden thread into her fingers rightful halo. I wish I had those unearthly entities. I had watched them earnestly when Mother asked.

 

 “Isle, what do you know about winter?"

"Um....it's cold?" I replied with a puzzled eyebrow.

"Yes, heartlessly cold.” Those angels had flown to the heavens only to circle and return to the earth. “It's very harsh weather, and it lasts for the longest time, does it not?"

"Yes, it does.” I had been mesmerized.

"Then what do you know about spring?"

            The sudden topic of spring knocked me out of my hypnosis.

"Oh! It’s warm and pretty! The weather is always perfect. There is never anything wrong with it"

Mother giggled, "Correct. Spring is neither hot nor cold, it is a mix. Spring is simple. But it is the shortest season, and quickly changes into summer, not very stable.”

 

She had continued her needlework, not once looking up.

 

“Now, if spring and winter were people, and they were fighting, who do you think would win?"

" �"Um �"I don't know. Winter. �"I guess? Since winter seems so mean."

"Yes, I agree.” Mothers head had risen and her sea eyes were filled with wisdom.  “And that, Isle, is why you can’t win against Sean."

"What?!?” I had exclaimed “Why?"

"Sean’s winter will bury your spring under the snow.”

 

After a minute, Mother proved to be right, I started to want to avoid Sean's gaze, but he trapped me there and I couldn't look away; I could only dangle there, as Sean crushed my pride with the intensity of his winter.

"Oh! Miss Isle!" Tasha gasped.

 

Tasha’s idiotic mind had finally connected long enough to realize that I was in front of her. I rolled my eyes at her stupidity, and Sean gave me a menacing glare. He lowered me to the ground, but left one hand gripping my upper arm tightly.

 

"Is this where you were hiding? It's amazing" She examined my haven with great curiosity.

 

My haven was a forgotten secret hole. It was most likely built to hold a safe, but was never put to use. It was behind a portrait of a garden. The flowers were painted brightly in blues, yellows, purples, reds, pinks, and oranges. The variety of the flowers was great, from small daisy like flowers to large sunflower like flowers. The portrait exploded with color and smells. Every time I saw it, I imagined myself standing in this Eden! The buzzing of bees and tweeting of birds. The smell of flowers with a hint of the ocean that was painted in the corner. In the back of the garden was a glorious house made of white marble. The vines wrapped around the house, entangling themselves, becoming one with the home. This painting brought me simple joy. It was my haven, my home, my hole, my hiding stop.

 The inside of my haven was not as elegant as the picture but it was perfect to me. It was a square hole in the wall, made up of wooden planks.
It was large enough to hold me, and still leave me some room. Tasha ran her hands down the side of the wooden wall.

 

"This is an amazing hiding spot." She spoke in breathless awe, "I'd never think of looking in here!”

"Don't be amazed Tasha. She's nothing but a little rat." Sean sneered in my direction.

"Sean are you okay?" worry seemed to envelop Tasha's face. “Are you feeling sick?"

 

She placed the back of her right hand on her forehead and the back of her left hand on Sean's forehead.

“What are you doing?!” Sean stepped back

 

“You do know what I’m doing?” She asked shocked.

 

“No, I do not!”

 

“Oh my! Sean!” Tasha leaned closer to Hans keeping her hands glued to his forehead.  Her face was filled with fear. “You must be ill!”

 

“I'm fine!" Sean exclaimed. His face became the shade of apple blossoms. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're hallucinating!"

"What?" Sean and I synced. He glared at me and turned back to Tasha. "What makes you think I'm hallucinating?"

"You just thought that Miss Isle was a rat! You must be overworking yourself!"

 

Sean and I stood there completely dumbfounded. Sean brought his forefinger and thumb to his face and proceeded to squeeze the bridge of his nose, while he shook his head. Even he had to admit that Tasha was just too stupid sometimes. I on the other hand, wanted to know if it was healthy being this dumb. Shouldn't there be a law saying people with Tasha's wit, can't work? They must be at least a danger to themselves and society. Why Mrs. Vik would hire her, I have no clue.