The Six Swans

The CEO left home, calling to his new wife that he would be back later. His wife grumbled angrily to herself. Since their wedding a mere two weeks ago, the man had left on seven business trips. She knew his job was time consuming and called for him to go to various places but there was no way that he needed to leave on so many business trips. Sure, the trips only lasted a day but she grew lonely in the mansion that sheltered only herself and the servants. It felt as if her husband felt no want to be around her.

She stood from her seat in the dining room and walked through the long hallways, up the winding steps to the bedroom she and her husband shared. She collapsed on the bed. Curiosity crawled through her.

"I must know where he goes," she said aloud, "but how?"

Her arms pushed her body from the bed. She walked to the full length mirror on the wall, gazing intently into it. Minutes passed.

"Perhaps the servants know," she said.

She nodded and left the bedroom again in search of the servants of the mansion. The first destination was the kitchen, considering breakfast had been served not long ago. The woman walked back down the winding stairs and through hallways to the kitchen. Just as predicted, multiple servants were gathering the dishes from the table. She cleared her throat; the servants turned their attention to her, straightening their posture.

"I must know where my husband is," she stated.

They looked at each other.

"He is at work, ma'am," one answered.

"I wanted to ask him where his last business trip was to. Do you know?" she pushed.

He shrugged.

"I know you know where he goes. Answer me," she demanded.

"We don't know, ma'am."

The woman reached into the pocket of her pants, pulling out a wad of money.

"If you tell me, I will give you this to share amongst yourselves. My husband will not find out. Tell me where he normally goes on his business trips."

Their eyes stared greedily at the money in her hand. An internal battle raged inside of each servant: stay true to their master or take the money. The probability of their master finding out was slim. The money would be useful in paying for their bills, maybe in getting gifts for their children and spouses.

"He's with his children from his first marriage. They live in a penthouse somewhere in New York," another servant answered.

"Where in New York?"

"We don't know. We're not entirely sure he knows either. The address is programmed into his gps."

"Where does he keep his gps?"

"In his sock drawer. He leaves it here while he is at work," one answered.

The woman smiled. "Thank you. You've been very helpful." She placed the wad of money on the table, "I do believe this is your's."

She left the kitchen and walked back to the bedroom. There, she searched through the drawers of the vanity, extracting six white shirts.

"I'll make it so he never sees his children again," the woman said, cackling.

The shirts were placed on the bed. The woman examined each, checking for rips. Rips would completely ruin the plan. She turned back to the vanity, opening the drawer on the top left. A few white socks spilled out of it, landing on the floor without a sound. The woman reached her hand into the sock drawer. Socks moved as her hand felt around the drawer. Her hand landed on a rectangular object. She grabbed it and pulled it out. A smile formed on her face, her eyes focused on her husband's gps firmly grasped in her hand.

"Time to pay my step-children a little visit," she said, grabbing her purse and the six shirts.

The woman left the room, walked down the winding stair case, through the multiple hallways, out the front door and to the car parked in the driveway. Balancing everything in one hand, she fished her keys from her purse and unlocked the door. She slid onto the leather seat, closing the door behind her. The car roared to life. She powered on the gps. An address labeled "castle in the forest" immediately filled the screen, a purple line showing the directions from the mansion to the children's penthouse. The woman read over the directions a few times before pulling out of the driveway and speeding down the street.

A few hours later, the woman arrived outside the building listed on the gps. She grabbed the shirts and stepped out of the car, leaving the gps and her purse in the car. Having too many things in her hand would get in the way. She walked into the building, keeping in mind the penthouse number. She rode the elevator to the right floor and walked down the hall, her steps resonating loudly in the hall. The door opened and six boys rushed out.

"Dad," they yelled, running down the hall.

The boys failed to notice their mistake in time; the woman had already thrown the shirts over each boy's head and left through the elevator. Their bodies morphed, shrinking and gaining feathers. Six swans stood proudly where the boys once had been. They extended their wings and flew out of the open window at the end of the hall. A girl watched from the door of their penthouse, confusion written on her face. She stepped out into the hall and stared at the feathers on the ground.

"What just happened to my brothers?" she asked herself.

She bent down, picking up each feather.

"Hopefully things make sense in the morning."

Feathers in hand, she walked back into the penthouse, closing the door firmly behind her.