Milk, Honey, and Jam
By: Haley Pak
The Doctor, the Wizard, and the Princess were invited to dinner and they came knocking at the Lady’s mansion overlooking misty moors. However, with no response and the windows darkened they assumed dejected positions on the marble porch and stared out over the horizon.
The Doctor passed the time wondering if there would be tea, the Wizard knit, yet another foot to his enormous scarf, and the Princess fell into a sullen mood as she did not like being hungry. The heath gradually faded into dripped ink, into dark ship-sinking ocean. The Doctor and the Wizard could see clouds flowing to fog but the Princess was all breath and no form and had no lungs with which to exhale.
When the sky became so black it turned to ice, and they had all had begun to think they had been abandoned to the damp, the mansion crashed open. The Butler rose from beyond, a single flickering candle pooling in his palm. A smile cleaved his face in two and the Doctor wondered if a spoon had caved into his cheeks. He urged them stiffly in.
The Wizard smiled back as he passed, but not before plucking up the Doctor and carrying her into the house for she was small and her legs too short to breach the three steps to the door. The Princess followed, waved to the Butler but as to be expected he did not see her. When the doors fell together again, sealing them from the night, she noticed a glint in the Wizard’s hand.
“You have the key.”
The Wizard merely shrugged, twirled said key between his fingers and flicked it casually where it sailed and disappeared into the shadows of the foyer.
“Correction, had the key.”
“And why did you not think it appropriate to use it?”
“It’s a lovely evening. It’s rude anyhow, just opening someone’s door. What if you had the combination to my safe, would that guarantee it right to then steal my life’s savings?”
“I guarantee you won’t have a life if you keep being ridiculous,” but her threat fell weakly and she sighed. “I need a library. She needs tea for heaven’s sake.” She gestured to The Doctor, who was very comfortable being carried and nodded in agreement before burrowing into the Wizard’s shoulder.
“Well I need a flock of ducks but that’s not stopping me from being one,” he retorted and promptly began quacking. The Doctor hopped to the ground and copied him flapping her arms. They stopped when melody echoed around them and a woman’s voice vibrated opera through the walls.
The butler leaped about the antechamber lighting more candles hidden in the darkness and they at last saw like swimmers in murky water. The Lady of the manor appeared, without entrance, without introduction, shielded by a black veil that glittered in the single candle’s spotlight. She waltzed to her own song, slowly, and swayed to a bend over the Wizard’s face, the veil brushing his nose.
“My my.”
She spun, bent even further to the Doctor whose crossed eyes stretched to marbles.
“My oh my.”
Her eyes passed hollowly over the Princess.
“Welcome. Let’s have breakfast. Chancellor!”
The Butler scurried to her side, grin unwavering.
“Give them a tour why don’t you? I’ll go prepare the eggs.”
She faded away, melting into the cobwebs and the dust and the gloom and the deep deep unsettling quiet of the mansion.
Somewhere very far away, water dripped.
The Butler twisted, turned to them with the same steadfast grin.
“Come along.” He beckoned, jumped, yet his knees didn’t bend. “Come along. Come along.”
On they went down the hall from one pool of light to the next as he moved ahead to ignite candles glued to the carpet in pools of wax. Although they had seen windows (like portholes of a drowned submarine) from outside, the inside showed that they had all been blacked out. The Doctor went to one, swiped her finger, tasted it.
“Soot.” It was lonely.
They walked in silence. There were many frames, but no paintings. Empty pedestals. No light save for the candles, each one revealing a sliver of hallway to the next.
“What a strange tour this is,” the Wizard suddenly remarked. “All powder and no words, eh good fellow?” He made a vain attempt to enter a room but had to step back as the Butler abruptly leaped in front of the door.
“Tis my Mistress’s private collection sir.” he spoke in an odd clipped voice. The Wizard shrugged, feigning disregard, but the Princess saw what he had seen: the chipping gold ‘Library’ on a faded plaque. She was faint, she needed to feed, and if she had a mouth it would have watered.
“Come along,” their odd guide said again, and on they went (reluctantly). At last the final set of doors opened at the end of the hall and they entered an enormous dining room illuminated by, seemingly, a thousand identical candles: covering the long wooden table set for thirty, dripping from the chandelier overhead, lining the mantle of the fireplace to the left (which was empty) and completely engulfing the floor set entirely ablaze. The Lady sat at one of three empty chairs, all the rest also encased in wax.
“Come. Come dine travelers.” The three of them eyed the flames.
“How?” The Doctor initiated the question, as the Wizard had fallen silent and the Princess was much too invisible to speak. Their host appeared to not have heard.
“Eat your fill. I prepared the eggs myself.”
“For goodness-” the Princess rushed through the room. Her presence, a breath of wind, a less than physical life, extinguished a path allowing her companions to tromp through smoking wax to their seats.
“Oh darling why didn’t you say you were coming?” their host chuckled and pulled a single paperback from underneath the table. “You were so quiet, how was I to know you were here? In any case I always keep spares for the ghouls.”
The Princess, initially shocked then offended, tried to resist but oh the novel was yellowed and the binding cracked and she had to have it. Her spirit lunged like a whirlwind, sucking the plot dry (a long forgotten adventure story: salty with a bitter aftertaste) crunching through the grammar, licking every trace of ink and finally leaving nothing but the pages which she pulled, folded, twisted into a body that could touch and be seen (and wasn’t it wonderful to be seen again).
“Better isn’t it dear? Existing? Now please, dine.”
The Doctor found a pot amongst the candles and scorched herself wrenching it from the wax only to find it full of cold coffee. The Wizard stuck a finger into every condiment then leaned back to knit stickily, every so often reaching for dry toast. The Princess hovered, wary of every spark near her delicate form and the clock in the corner ticked away. The eggs remained untouched.
“This is so nice isn’t it? It’s been ages since I’ve had anyone over.” The Lady hadn’t moved at all. “My husband was a sailor, and ever since he disappeared so long ago it’s been little me all alone. Isn’t that right Chancellor?” The Butler, who had been crouching in the frigid fireplace, nodded vigorously.
“I’m… sorry for your loss,” the Princess said politely.
“Don’t be dear, he’s better nonexistent.”
Silence.
When a sufficient number of ticks passed (they were all counting) the Wizard spoke.
“This has been sweltering and lovely dear Lady, yet I find myself out of yarn and thoroughly bored. The toast is burnt and the jam- He licked his lips, grimaced. “The jam is salty. It is here after a rude urging to trade your salt for sugar that I must take my leave.”
“Mine as well. There’s no tea you see.” The Doctor’s head wagged. “I’m too young to have coffee. And mother expects me back before midnight.”
“Thank you for these moments,” said the Princess with illness creeping through her pages. Upon further digestion the story did not sit with her well (it had spoiled with antiquity and infected morals) and she found herself nauseous enough to release the pages where they floated and burned. “An apparition such as myself cannot overstay my welcome in an occupied household.”
“You’re all leaving? Leaving me? Why, you haven’t even met our fourth guest.”
She snapped and the Butler leaped through the flames and barred the door with a smile. Laughter tore from behind her veil.
“How careless of you to assume you can leave. I’m not done with you.”
“And how unsettling of you to insist we stay because we’re definitely done,” said the Princess.
The Lady sniffed.“Frankly you cannot comprehend the exceeding boredom of my life can you? Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful. And I’m alone all the time.”
Her hands fluttered to the veil. “Naturally, I sold my most precious commodity for eternal company. Our esteemed third party should be here any moment with the paperwork.”
“If the world operated on the whims of answered wishes all jam would taste of salt,” said the Wizard. “It seems to me you are keeping a madman, a ghost, and a child here against our collective will.”
“I’m not dead,” the Princess muttered. The Doctor stood on her chair.
The Lady gestured helplessly. “It’s too late, he’s already collected half-price as collateral.”
She lifted her veil revealing a lipsticked mouth, a nose with no bridge, and a blank stretch of flesh where her eyes should have been. The mouth grinned.
“Absolutely no thank you.” The Wizard grabbed the Doctor under one arm and rushed to the Butler, swinging a kick that stuck, then sank into the servant’s chest. Wax.
“Oh you’ll love him. The Matchman. Although, his price was severe I must say. Once he takes the rest I’ll have to hum.” She sang her lonely melody again.
At that moment, a pounding like the heartbeat of the mansion itself, drowned her song.
“Ah, he’s here. Chancellor, won’t you keep an eye on our guests while I answer the door?”
The Butler obediently moved aside and the three companions recoiled slightly as she glided soundlessly out, unable to unsee her sightlessness even with the veil. Candles long extinguished, the black hallway swallowed her completely.
“Well we’re definitely leaving.” The Wizard produced the largest needle he owned with a flourish and cleaved the Butler down the middle, freeing his foot. The Doctor kicked the two pieces into the flames and for a sadistic moment, they watched the strange fake man melt. Then they turned to the hallway without light or end.
“When she returns, are we trapped here forever?” the Doctor asked. “She doesn’t have eyes.”
“Well paperwork always takes a tediously long time. We can just have our friend here eat it while they’re signing it.” The Wizard gestured to the air.
“Excuse me sir I’m not eating any of that. Do you know how bland legal documents are? Like vats of watery oatmeal- without the milk and honey.”
They wandered down the hall.
“Are we escaping?”
“To where? There’s nowhere to go.”
They found themselves, unsurprisingly, at the Library. The Wizard picked the lock easily with two of his smallest needles and they found themselves again on the moors facing a gigantic silver moon.
Somewhere far off sounded two pairs of footsteps. The Doctor wordlessly shut the door.
“What time is it? And are we safe?”
“It’s time to move on. And are we ever safe?”