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."
Lilith stared, wishing the pills would melt or catch fire.
"Now," Gabby said forcefully. Her face exuded that parental care that bordered on malice despite best intentions.
Lilith's heart fell. Desperate, she decided to go for the truth. "Mom, I'm feeling okay, I promise. Yes, I spit out the pills, and I'm sorry."
"See? I knew it."
"But I swear it wasn't why I fainted. It's this place. There's something going on here. The rose garden, it stinks. Doesn't it stink to you? And the mansion...it moves just like our house, only worse. It goes up and down, like an elevator. The rooms can move too, at least my room did. That's why yesterday, when the dinner hall descended..." Everything she said suddenly sounded so silly that she paused, groping for words.
Gabby sighed. "I thought I asked you not to give me any stories. It won't work, Lilith, you know it. Open your mouth, please."
Backed into a corner, Lilith had no choice but to oblige. Gabby placed the capsules on her tongue.
"It really moves, Mom," Lilith mumbled before swallowing, fantasizing about gagging herself later.
Gabby's features twitched like those of a squirrel. "Please. We've been through this before. Listen to me. I want you to have a good time while we're here, okay? Hang out with those girls, whatever their names are, Gina and Daisy—"
"Gwen and Daphne."
"Take a walk in the garden, socialize a bit, get out of this room and forget about your books. I don't know, maybe—"
"Mom, books are my life."
"Smell the roses. Where did you get this idea about the garden smelling bad? It smells wonderful. Your dad and I are going to look at it today. Your grandfather is showing us some new bushes he planted. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."
"Actually, I really need to pee."
"Breakfast will be served soon, you better—"
"Mom, it is of paramount importance that I relieve myself. I don't like soiling my jeans." Lilith's typical approach worked, as always.
Disgusted, her mother opened the bathroom door and pushed Lilith inside. It consisted of a tiny toilet, tiny sink, tiny shower stall, and tiny window. The elderly lady was gone.
Lilith locked the door, kneeled, stuck two fingers in her throat, and—flushing the toilet simultaneously—expertly threw up three half-dissolved pills. She had years of practice; she'd been forced to take medicine since elementary school, after teachers complained about her not paying attention, daydreaming, or spontaneously dancing in the middle of the classroom. Neither the principal nor her parents believed that the school building only stood still when Lilith moved.
Needless to say, she became the laughing stock of her class from day one. Some boy called her loony, and the name stuck. She escaped into books (primarily about Sherlock Holmes), into ballet lessons (which helped her concentrate), and into sniffing flowers (to block out revolting odors issuing from the ground, indicative of places where someone, or something, decomposed). After having survived her grandmother's funeral and the reek of the cemetery at the age of almost three, Lilith could handle any stink, that is, until she smelled Alfred Bloom's rose garden.
Shuddering in revulsion, Lilith stuck her face under the faucet, gulped water, and hurried out of the bathroom. Following her mother, she sped through the corridor lined with identical doors, down the marble staircase, and into the dinner hall, freshly cut roses already arranged in vases.
"Look. There are your friends, Gina and Daisy," Gabby said brightly.
Lilith decided not to bother with an answer.
"Excellent, you'll have company. Eat, please. You know it's not good to take your medicine on an empty stomach." Gabby whispered that last part. "I'll go wake your father. We'll be right back." The next moment, she took off.
Lilith approached uncertainly. She expected breakfast to be the usual American fare, but what she saw made her gasp with glee. The table offered all kinds of jam, marmalade, syrup, and nougat-crème; plates of rolls, bowls of yogurt, and trays of freshly made waffles that issued a delicious smell.
Gwen and Daphne already devoured their food, their pudgy bodies squeezed into matching tank tops and shorts. Lilith halted, conscious of her jeans, long-sleeve cardigan, and beret. She couldn't help it, always feeling cold, finding relief only in taking hot showers or warming her hands on Panther's belly.
"Panther," she exclaimed under her breath. "I forgot all about Panther. Oh, how could I. Oh, how disgraceful. Oh—"
She noticed her grandfather's studying glare.
"GUSTAV!" he bellowed.
At once, and seemingly out of nowhere, the butler emerged and placed the whippet into Lilith's arms. It happened so fast, for a moment Lilith became speechless.
"Panther!" she said, and kissed his head while he licked her face, as if they'd been separated for an eternity. "Oh, Panther, I missed you."
"I certainly missed you, too," he growled. "Oops, here comes the creep."
Lilith looked up.
Alfred strolled toward them. "Good morning, my dear. I take it you slept well?" He stretched his lips into a smile.
"Yes, unequivocally," Lilith replied.
"Fond of big words, are you? I hear you read a lot. Just like your father...he was a bookworm. I always thought that reading books was a waste of time. Fills your head with unnecessary nonsense. I read only business books...and suggest you do the same. You need to learn how to make money." He tapped a finger on her forehead.
Lilith decided that she now had two perfectly valid reasons to hate her grandfather.
"I understand you missed your...creature," he continued. "I'm afraid, however, that we can't have it with us for breakfast."
Then why did you give him to me? Lilith wanted to ask, but she bit her lip. Her grandfather seemed to enjoy trying her patience. She decided not to give him the pleasure.
"It'll have to wait...by the door. Bär will guard it."
"Excuse me?"
"My mastiff. You had the pleasure of meeting him yesterday."
"Oh, that—" Lilith almost said monster. Bär, she suddenly remembered, meant bear in English. It matched him perfectly. From her father's several unsuccessful attempts to teach her German, Lilith only picked up the names of the animals. "Certainly, Grandfather," she said sweetly and let go of Panther, who held his tail in defiance, letting Gustav lead him away.
Brooding, ignoring Gwen and Daphne chatting her ears off, and barely touching any food, Lilith anxiously scanned every entering face, hoping to see Ed. He failed to show up. Instead, her parents strolled in. Lilith stoically endured her father's clumsy hug and half-listened to her mother's instructions to not leave the property and to please have some fresh air and to please socialize and to PLEASE be back in time for dinner, for an important announcement. After nibbling on a waffle and upending a glass of juice, Lilith managed to escape, snatch Panther right from under Bär's nose to his loud grumble, and slink out into the garden.
Here she took a deep breath, only to cover her nose, suppressing the desire to throw up because the foul odor seemed stronger, as if whatever produced it spoiled rapidly. Or got closer.
"How can something so beautiful smell so bad?" she said.
"Kindly ask your grandfather," growled Panther. "And please kindly relax your grip. I don't recall ever pronouncing my pleasure at being suffocated in your loving embrace, as much as I love you, of course."
Lilith scoffed and lowered her pet to the ground.
"Thank you. Much better." Panther stretched and yawned. "And I'm eternally grateful to you for asking me about how in the blazing squirrels I endured the night."
"Oh! My apologies. How did you sleep? And where...where did you sleep..." Her voice trailed off.
The garden held her spellbound.
Numerous rosebushes formed long rows separated by gravel pathways. They started out straight, and then blended into elaborate patterns, forming a labyrinth that stretched for at least a hundred yards, all the way to the Grunewald forest, in the middle of which the Bloom property hid from public eye. The flow of the uniform red surface stumbled here and there on white-painted iron arbors covered with even more roses.
Lilith walked up to one. "Eugenia," she read on the sign. "Panther, look. It's called Eugenia, after my grandmother. And this one is called Cadenza—"
"Nice names. Now, can I go pee on them?" Panther stuck out his tail and went sniffing.
Lilith regarded him sternly. "Panther Bloom Junior!"
"What, I'm a dog, okay? Besides, I feel like doing something mean to this place. It gives me the willies." He lifted his leg, let out a shiny stream, and quickly ran back. "It stinks in here, mercilessly." He sneezed in his very dramatic doggy way.
"I know. I want to find out what's causing it. You up to investigating together, dear Watson?"
Panther looked up, obviously displeased. "I deduce that you have read too many Sherlock Holmes books. Don't tell me twelve- year-old girls partake in pretense games. I happened to have formed a much higher opinion of your maturity."
Lilith rolled her eyes. "Says he who still plays with his stuffed squirrel."
It was impossible to tell if Panther blushed, due to his face being covered entirely in black fur. He growled something incoherent.
"Look, if pretense games go against your definition of fun, I understand fully. No problem. Too bad, because I thought of offering you steak. As payment. For the job."
"Steak?" Panther growled with interest.
"Yeah, it's this thick piece of juicy meat?"
"Well, there does seem to be a rather unfortunate lack of rodents." Panther glanced around.
"Panther Bloom Junior. Do you agree to investigate the mystery of the rose garden with me?" Lilith squinted at him.
"Yes."
"You give me your word?"
"The word of a whippet," Panther barked proudly.
"Splendid."
She shook his paw.
A strange sound caused them both to perk up. Someone, or something, sighed. It sounded simultaneously like the rustle of leaves and a human voice. It came from the end of the garden, rippling across the bushes in a gust of wind.
"Don't tell me I'm the only one who heard it." Lilith stared at Panther, her heart drumming.
"Let's hope it's only a giant mutant squirrel," Panther barked, his eyes ablaze with hunting fever.
Without another word, they sprinted toward the sound, not noticing that someone witnessed their departure.
Peeking through the greenery, Ed lowered his drawing pad and followed them into the garden.