Rosehead

Chapter 3. The Moving Mansion

Lilith knew that every house moved, but grandfather's mansion did more than that. Waking up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed, Lilith learned that not only did it descend underground for the night, but it also rearranged itself randomly throughout the day. None of the guests seemed to have registered this fact, peacefully strolling between rows of bushes and loudly expressing their delight. It's what woke Lilith and it's what she observed now through her second story window. Everybody seemed to love the garden. Everybody, except her. It had a hidden sinister side to it, and she was determined to uncover its secret.

Suddenly, the floor tilted and the room sped along the perimeter of the house, making a full circle and coming to an abrupt stop. Lilith clung to the windowsill, light-headed and tempted to use some very bad words. She tried to remember how she got here and who changed her into pajamas. Her rosy pajamas, that shade of diluted pink that reminded her of ballerinas and helped her go to sleep. Her other favorite colors were blue, red, and black, each represented by a different beret and acting like mood setters.

"You can turn inside out or fly to Mars, for all I care. Go ahead. I'm not scared of you," she whispered to the room.

The room didn't answer.

"That was very rude. I'm talking to you," said Lilith.

They stared at each other.

"Fine. Have it your way," Lilith scoffed, looking around in search of her luggage.

Compared to her room back home, this one had no color. About ten by ten feet, it gleamed in the morning sun with white walls, a white-painted iron bed, and white cotton bedding, as if grinning a dazzling smile. Even the doors where white, identical and unlabeled.

Lilith spotted her bag, shed her pajamas, and pulled on skinny jeans, a rosy cardigan, red Mary Janes, and her red beret, and then she cautiously opened one of the doors.

Behind it was a shared bathroom. An elderly lady smelling of soap, her head full of rollers and her face covered with green paste, turned and screamed. For the next minute, Lilith endured a gnarly finger shaking two inches from her nose and a high-pitched ululating voice telling her in bad English what a naughty girl she was to barge in without knocking. At last, the lady convulsed in a series of coughs and flung both hands to her chest in utmost distress over the girl's lack of manners.

Lilith shut the door, breathing fast. Promptly, another door swung open and Gabby slid in, followed by an aura of wooly scent and irritation. "I see you're up and dressed. Good. We need to have a little chat."

"Um..." Lilith said.

"Good job scaring everyone with your theatrics yesterday." Gabby glared. "I had to chalk it up to jetlag."

"What?"

"You fainted. At dinner. You don't remember? I know exactly why it happened, missy. You must have spit out your pills, while your father and I were busy. No need to roll your eyes. I know it for a fact, and I don't want to hear any stories."

"I wasn't—"

"You thought you could hide them in the car?" She shook the vial, letting the tablets rattle.

"I didn't—"

"Very clever. Just so you don't attempt to do this again, you'll take three pills today. Three. Don't give me that accusatory look. I'm not leaving until I see you swallow them." Gabby stared her daughter down.

"But, Mom—" she tried again, although she knew that once Gabby Bloom started her wrath, nobody could interrupt her.

"Nope. No excuses." With a sigh of impatience, Gabby popped out three capsules. "Take them."