Ptolemy

The light was still on and the room was either cold or damp; Avery couldn't tell that morning when she woke up disoriented, with a sore throat, and stiff body. It was 7:03 and the house was full of sounds of morning shuffles. The shower was running, static cut in and out of the radio, and the coffee machine spit into its ring stained container . Avery shivered and swung her feet over the bed. She made herself decent, glanced in the mirror and saw herself a mess. Her hair was greasy and her make-up was smeared, she tussled her hair a bit with little result.

Fluffy grey clouds coated the sky warning of rain as she passed by her window. Farley sat in the kitchen devouring his cereal in order to make it to his bus on time. He bobbed his head to on the radio every time he chewed. Avery held in her laughter and independently searched for a coffee mug. She stepped forward and a floorboard whined. Farley's posture erected and he dropped his spoon splashing milk everywhere.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Avery apologized and searched for a spoon of her own. Farley nodded and he mopped the area around his bowl, "I'm Avery by the way." Avery sat down across the table from him and buried her face in the cup every sip she took. The steaming drink burned, but woke her up.

"Farley." He announced and opened his mouth to say something clever, nothing came to mind, so he drank his remaining milk instead.

Arden rounded the corner knotting his tie and with Ptolemy gripping to his shoulder. He glanced at his wristwatch and grumbled, "Farley you are going to miss your bus. It will be the second time this week."

"I know. I'm hurrying." Farley said just as flatly.

"And you made a mess!" Arden became exasperated, the crow hopped down to the counter.

"I scared the day-lights out of him and he accidentally dropped his spoon." Avery interjected.

He noted Avery's presence and his mood changed, "Good morning Avery. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes, fine thank-you."

Farley shook his head as he went to the sink to place his bowl and then dampened a washcloth. He slapped the wet rag on the tabletop and rubbed a greater area than he had previously. Avery checked the time.

"What time does your bus stop?"

"7:15."

"Here," She put a hand over his and slid the washcloth away from him. "I can get it." Farley bashfully took his hand back and stared in the direction of her voice.

"Say thank you." His cup pressed to his lips and elbow out, Arden instructed Farley's gapping mouth.

"You should get going."

"Thanks." Farley went to the foyer and unhooked his uniform's blazer from the coat rack.

On the way to school he rehearsed possible conversations to have with Avery. The noise level rose like the aggravated tension in Farley's scalp. He thought of humorous things, informational things, things not to say, even comforting things to say to her. Each stop the tires of the bus whistled against the friction of the paved road. He rested an elbow on the rail and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Avery chased the milk around with the overly-wet rag. The radio faded into the background, only the clicks of Ptolemy's prehistoric scaled feet and Arden's voice were relevant in the kitchen. He spread some jam onto his burnt toast and fed bits of the crumbs to the bird.

"I put out a fresh towel for you. Go ahead and make yourself at home. Please." He smiled and then headed out of the room. Arden clicked a few times and Ptolemy dropped his crumbs and flew out.

She nodded and dabbed up some coffee that escaped the corner of her mouth, "I was thinking of making dinner tonight." She called down the hall. With the out of sight she could think about other things at least for a while before it chattered in it's own language.

"That sounds great," Arden stopped in his tracks and made his way back around to the doorway.

"Is there anything that you don't prefer?"

"Hm…I don't particularly like Brussels sprouts."

"I cannot blame you for that."

A small laughter was exchanged. Arden patted Ptolemy's head and walked down the hall still chuckling and repeating the minutely funny tidbit. Avery finished her breakfast. By the time she had unpacked, bathed and dressed Arden had left for work. The house was completely silent, after the constant racket of the crow the drips of the faucets didn't count as a noise. Nothing was noise compared to that creature.

Avery crept quietly trying not to disturb the stillness. She made her way to the back of the house to the kitchen again. She had avoided one seat in the kitchen at breakfast and lunch, she sat kiddy-corner to it, only observing it for seconds at a time. The chair moved effortlessly across the linoleum floor. Sitting with her hands on her knees and feet flat she closed her eyes.

Sirens, then laughter, then beeps, beep, beep, beep, then murmurs…she relaxed and thought about the space behind her. Sirens, then laughter, then beeps, beep, beep, but now her kitchen table filled the spot where the man had been standing. She tried this again…nothing was changing.

"Maybe there's really nothing here, maybe you're crazy old girl…" Avery muttered to herself half guiltily, ruining the peace.

Avery twisted in her seat and saw the shady hallway, the motion was so fluid and it awakened something. She fastened her eyelids, not allowing even a snow storm of red dots. She concentrated harder and harder, patiently weeding out all of the commotion. She had filtered through the machines and crowds in her head. It took some time, but she managed.

There she sat, at her kitchen table, it was afternoon because her lunch was in front of her. Shouting and crashing were coming from the hall. Avery turned around. It was coming from her father's office. She crossed her arms and listened harder. Half an hour prior her mother was making lunch and Avery was playing with the soap bubbles in the sink. Her father arrived home early from work and requested that they speak in alone. Another loud crash nearly moved Avery from her seat to see the happenings. She stayed, like a good little girl should, who hadn't been excused from her lunch yet.

"What?" Her mother shouted.

An attempted comforting jabber came from her father. Avery kicked her short legs, never once risking hitting the ground. There was a pause in the office, and then a shriek.

"Don't touch me Arden…No! You bastard! Get away… No, that won't make it better! I don't care what you have to say!" The fighting stopped and Avery could barely hear her mother's next phrase, "I'm leaving."

The jabber went on, then her mother's voice became even lower. Avery grew uncomfortable, something about it didn't sound right. She picked up her fork and pretended to eat when the door opened.

"Listen to me," Her mother bent down to eye level, her voice quivering, and mannequin's face plastered on, "We're going to see Nanny later this week in the city. Ok?" Avery believed she understood what all the commotion was about leaving was and became very excited. "Yeah? It sounds good? Ok, now please wash up and start packing a bag."

Avery opened her eyes to the dreary English morning and ventured on through-out the house. She passed the office door, debating whether to open the forbidding thick oak door. Avery decided it would be invasion of her father's privacy to do so and moved on to the rest of the first floor. The dining room only held a dusty table topped with a few minor Christmas feasts, and the living room only felt different. Nothing more bothering than the unkempt decor. The wallpaper was peeling, the furniture was well past its day, and everything was tobacco stained.

Stair by stair she counted the rungs. Her room was nothing special, the only thing she recalled from her youth was being forced to go to bed. The door to Farley's room was open. Avery stepped into the middle and avoided touching or going through anything. Snorting she went back to the door, blinking hard. It was the room that was designated for her mother and father's next child. So, many days she'd stand in the doorway and check to see if there was a ever a new baby there. The door to her father's bedroom was shut, she again avoided it out of respect.

The only remaining stop was the last door to the right of the bathroom. The door much like the windows unwillingly opened. Cobwebs strung across wall to wall in the stairwell, several miscellaneous toys were strewed or leaning against the walls, and scrawled drawings were tacked up. It was worse than a car crash, she knew it was painful to watch and be apart of, but she couldn't turn away from her ill-fated curiosity. Brushing away the silken cotton candy webs she made it to the attic.

It was a ghost land of play things. A rocking horse sat hear the top of the steps, staring, waiting to be rocked. Old tea bag strings were drooped over the edge of the miniature tea set, the table cloth was moth eaten, and several stuffed bears were still gathered patiently around the table. The tea table in the corner abandoned like an ancient civilization anticipating a volcanic eruption.

The rain pattered on the ceiling above her and a ballet of ghostly figures projected on her eyelids. It was so clear she didn't need to think about it, the mess in her mind was shoved away and hushed by the newly found ones making their way through.

Her mother approached her from behind, her purse readily slung on her shoulder, "Come on Avery darling. It is time to go to Nanny's now." Avery bid her farewells, not knowing how long she'd actually be away from her tea time guests.

Lamps were skewed about the room, standing like dead electric trees, they grew in a path to an indoor meadow of fake flowers. Each fabric petal was weighted down by years of dirt. The once plump flowers seemed wilted and moth carcasses littered the mat. On fishing line hung feathers, beads and bells, stars, dragon flies, and plastic icicles.

"It will be like the Wizard of Oz!" Her father tickled her sides and she gave shrill giggles. He whipped the sheet into the air letting it sink to the ground and then fixed the folded corners.

"I'm Dorothy!" The piggy-tailed Avery jumped knee first to the center of the flower bed.

"Well, who's going to be my Avery?" Her father gleamed and placed his hands on his hips.

"I can be both for you Daddy."

"Oh good! I though I was going to miss my Avery."

She was six when she was taken from that attic. Avery poked with a single finger at a bell and grabbed around it, silencing it. She retracted her hand and backed away sighing. She went down the narrows stairs and returned to the kitchen to check her supplies for dinner later.