Skeletons of The Heavens

The Bonus

    

Ellenora stood in front of her father's work desk.  Claudia sat in his chair, right elbow on desk, fist to his jaw. Her mother stood beside him, arms crossed beneath her ample bosom. Her expression wasn't one of anger as it was one of concentration.
       "I really do not see a problem for her to assist if Petrich is in need of it." Claudia replied to her mother, "Doesn't sound like it'd be too much in the way of her other chores. Double the money.  And, furthermore, she came to us, not wait until being found out."
        "True." Cattleya sighed, "I suppose I just wanted Mr. Hollenburg to come to us for such things.  Then we could have had a say."
       Ellenora wanted to remind them that she was just nearly 14 years old and could make some, if not many, decisions on her own, but knew better than to put either of them on the defensive. Hopefully just talking between themselves would solve everything.  It was usually Claudia who balked and Cattleya who made him see reason.  But this was just the opposite and rare.
        "But for no more than what he is asking for you to do, I suppose it will be alright." her mother conceded.
        Ellenora smiled. "Thank you."
        "Please, just please make a promise to us, Ellenora." her mother said, her expression one of  real concern.  At this her father lay down his arm and looked up at her, as much at a loss of what she was going to say as Ellenora herself. "I've taught you since you were very small how to behave around men. But it means nothing if they have not been taught how to behave around women. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
      Ellenora felt her face flush, and Claudia looked stunned and made a bit of a shocked noise. "What?!" he gasped.
      Cattleya turned to him. "Don't pretend to be shocked, dear. You of all people should know better."
      "But. . . He would never. . .!" Claudia stammered.
       "Why? Because he comes across as proper? NEVER trust that." Her mother turned back to Ellenora. "You know what is appropriate and what certainly is not. Just please tell us if there is inappropriate ANYTHING. . . Please."
      Ellenora understood, of course. Between her and her mother, very frank discussions of such things happened now and again.  Her mother would mention the war very little but Ellenora knew it was living through the war that forced her mother to instill a sense of extra caution when it came to men.  Truly terrible things had happened during the war years in the city of Capria where she and Benedict grew up. A city so decimated that maps produced now no longer marked it.
        Ellenora nodded. "I promise I will."
        "Good!" her father exclaimed, "That way I can go break his legs."
         Ellenora could have just laughed off her father's threat, but couldn't because it was not
exactly an empty one.  Claudia Hodgins at 52 years old could still do some major damage to whomever might hurt his daughter.
        This conversation took place nearly a month ago. Since then Ellenora had nothing to report of misbehavior on either of them that she was aware of anyway. In a month's time of being Petrich Hollenburg's personal assistant, all Ellenora could report was that she had a penchant for organization and time management.  She kept to a tight schedule and, so far, so good.
Everyday at 4 o'clock, Ellenora took tea and brought enough for them both, so that she could relax and listen as he showed her his progress.  The design had began as what seemed random geometric shapes. Circles in squares, squares in circles, triangles, some acute, others obtuse, they were all over the place, but in simple terms, Petrich explained that the shapes and their precise placement reflected certain star and planet positioning in the night sky.
         "So a skeleton of the heavens, of sorts,"  Ellenora marveled, sipping her tea, happy to see Petrich enjoy the ham and butter tea sandwiches and tea cakes she had learned how to make herself. 
         "Precisely. But in days to come these shapes will turn into a border of filigree and flowers of the house who commissioned it.
"I can imagine that. Remarkable!" Ellenora said coming over to take a closer look. "This area here," she pointed to the large rectangle area full of other shapes. "What will this be?"
"It's a birth document. So it is traditionally a depiction of a star constellation. In this case, a unicorn."
"And this empty space here? Text space?"
"Yes, and even the script used is significant."
"So much work! I'm glad you are compensated handsomely for it."
"Yes. Very time consuming."
For a moment they both simply gazed at the draft. Ellenora couldn't help but feel a certain pride in having a part in its creation.
"Petrich?" Ellenora said in a low tone.
"Hmm?" he replied, still gazing at his work.
"Do these truly have supernatural powers?"
He then looked at her. "Many tend to think so, yes."
"I want to know what you believe personally."
        He grinned. "At this point in the design I can't help but be susceptible to believing it to some extent."
         He then poured himself more tea. "I say it's time for a bonus. Let's go to the symphony, Nora."
"Yes! I would enjoy that very much!"
"You've more than earned it. I just needed to get through the high pressure segment of the piece. I always like to relax with symphony music."
         Her parents had approved unchaperoned symphony outings.  Leiden's symphony orchestra performed in the nearby municipal park in the late afternoons on the weekends during the summer months, encouraging casual picnics. 
         Petrich saw this as a splendid idea, needing the outdoors after weeks of being cloistered in the attic. Instead of packing a picnic, they took with them a blanket and a food-empty picnic basket and built a picnic along the way. They stopped at various bakeries, deli's and outdoor fruit vendors and came away with far more than they could eat in one sitting. They found a wonderful spot beneath a giant oak tree not too close and not too far from the orchestra where ground sloped downward.
After having a little to eat, and a bit of wine, Petrich stretched his entire length on the blanket, hands behind his head and simply gazed up through the leaves of the great tree.
A very light breeze made the filtered sunlight shimmer.
Ellenora hugged her knees, Petrich's eyeglasses held lightly in her left hand after offering to hold them since he had laid them awkwardly on his chest.
"Here," she had said, plucking them up just before they slid off.  "They're going to get crushed. And then where would you be?"  In her ears she heard her mother chiding her father or little brother.
His eyes were half closed, as if at any moment he'd drop off into a peaceful snooze.
"What in this world would I do without you?" he teased lazily.
          Ellenora laughed lightly, and she automatically just almost said, "Silly, you'll never be without me." But thought better of it.  Of course he'll be without her at some point, and she without him.  She brushed this thought away as quickly as it entered, not wanting it to spoil her golden afternoon.
           Petrich still gazed up at the leaves but with a furrowed brow,  eyes now open and focused.  Ellenora looked up also and saw nothing but swaying leaves. . . and something else floating among the branches like little points of light like stars.  She blinked and they were gone.
        Still laying on his back, Petrich patted and slipped his hand into his left pocket and brought out a small pad of paper with a pencil attached. He quickly jotted down figures and sat upright. Ellenora stretched out her hand to give him back his glasses.
       Petrich took them and put them on,  and continued studying the figures he had written down.  He then froze, and looked at her in astonishment.
      "You saw them, didn't you?" he asked.
      Ellenora didn't know how to answer.  Did she actually see something? If she did, it was for just a mere instant.
         The music from the orchestra started in a blast of sound and Ellenora felt herself jump.
"I. . . thought I did see something."
         Petrich looked away. "And what was it?"he asked, his expression solemn.
        "Like tiny points of light.  For only a split instant." she confessed, a little frightened. 
        He nodded. "How old are you, Nora?"
        "I'll be 14 in August."
        "Ah." he replied, still solemn. Then he poured some more wine for himself and smiled, albeit cautiously, "Still too young for wine, then. What a pity."
           From that moment on, Petrich did not mention the star points in the branches above or even the figures he jotted down onto the paper.  He sipped his wine, ate more food, and every once in a while made  interesting commentary on the romantic sonata the orchestra played.
        Ellenora drank her sweet fresh lemon drink and listened, feeling happy, yet apprehensive.