by Sarah Raplee
“This time Mother
has gone too bloody far!” Sojie Headley slammed the cellar door behind her so
hard that windowpanes rattled throughout the first floor of Headley House. A
hairpin slipped from her upswept curls and plinked onto the floorboards, a victim
of her uncharacteristic violence.
Warmth and the
heavenly aroma of breakfast cooking in the Headley kitchen enfolded her. Her
stomach growled. Cookie finished spooning golden pancake batter next to hissing
bacon on the wood-fired range’s hot griddle before casting a reproving glance
her way.
“I’ll thank you to
watch your language in my kitchen, Miss Sojie,” the tall, dark-skinned woman
said. Lowering her brows with mock ferocity, she lifted her batter-covered
wooden spoon and pointed it at Sojie. “Get ahold of yourself, now. What’s the
missus done to rile you up?”
Heat rose in
Sojie’s face at the gentle rebuke. Dredging up a modicum of common sense, she
refrained from elaborating on the reason for her temper. Cookie had no idea
that Mother was experimenting with a time machine in their basement.
She blew out a
frustrated sigh. Why did she let Mother’s ill-conceived actions provoke her as
if she were an ignorant eight-year-old instead of a young woman of eighteen?
“Please accept my
apology for using inappropriate language,” she said with a rueful smile.
The older woman
nodded. “Jus’ remember that buttin’ heads with your mother is no excuse to
disrespect her.”
The wind’s howl
had them both looking out at the storm that had raged in Portland since
yesterday afternoon. The streets had no doubt turned to rivers of mud by now,
making even local travel nigh unto impossible. Sojie was glad they were
well-stocked with supplies.
“March sho’ came
in like a lion this year,” Cookie said, shaking her head. She reached for her
spatula.
Still seething, Sojie
strode across the oil-clothed floor through the scullery and then lifted her
long skirts to climb the servants’ stairs. Despite her promise to care for
Mother until Father returned, she wanted nothing more than to be done with the
woman. If she didn’t speak to Mrs. Bell immediately, surely she’d boil her top
and end up on the front lawn, screeching like a deranged teakettle. Her
mother’s assistant’s calm demeanor and wise counsel had soothed Sojie’s inner
turmoil more than once over the years.
Mrs. Bell opened
the door to her small apartment on the first knock. The clockwork privacy lock
must not have been set. Whilst amazingly secure, the newfangled devices took
time to undo.
The petite blond woman
was dressed for the day in a serviceable brown muslin frock, but she hadn’t yet
donned her laboratory coat. She looked up into Sojie’s face and her welcoming
smile faded. Taking Sojie’s arm, she pulled her into the tiny, lavender-scented
sitting room. A silver tea tray sat on a polished cherry table between two
chairs facing the cheery fire. “Please sit down, dear. I’ll pour the tea.”
Sojie suspected
she would need something stronger than tea to calm her, but she chose her usual
worn blue velvet chair with Egyptian hieroglyphics carved into the wooden arms.
Tracing the indentations in the wood with her fingers, she waited for Mrs. Bell
to pour the steaming brew into flowered china cups. Then she picked up the
nearest cup and saucer and sipped carefully before launching into a description
of her scientist mother’s latest escapade.
“A poor, half-grown
kitten, Mrs. Bell. How could Mother justify experimenting on such a helpless
creature?
Mrs. Bell pressed
her pretty lips into a disapproving line, but her green eyes crinkled slightly
at the corners. “It’s not as if she dissected the little animal,” Mrs. Bell
said. “The kitten is fine. I examined him myself. And I wouldn’t characterize
him as helpless. He’s quite energetic, in fact.” She turned her head to one
side to reveal an angry red scratch marring the milky white skin of her throat.
Sojie’s stomach
tightened. She set down her beverage with a clink. “Your injury only proves
Mouser is not fine at all. I’ve tamed him and his brother. They’re as gentle
as—as kittens, for heaven’s sake. Cookie
invites them into the kitchen for a few hours a day to catch vermin. Now
Mouser’s wild again. I swear he doesn’t even remember me, but Hunter is fine.”
Sojie swallowed
the lump that had formed in her throat. “When I confronted Mother about Mouser’s
change in behavior, she admitted she'd sent him forward a day in that infernal
time machine, the one she was ordered to scrap. She’s secretly pursuing an
illegal project, putting us all at risk. I fear this goes beyond eccentricity
into the realm of madness. Her behavior has grown significantly more erratic of
late, wouldn’t you agree?”
She’d a good mind
to contact General Morgan herself. The general had oversight of Mother’s
government-funded research. Sojie knew for a fact that the time machine project
was forbidden after the accident that tore her family apart. The general had
assured the family that given time, Dr. Headley and her brother, Lincoln, would
reappear. Unfortunately, not even Mother could predict the date with any real
accuracy. Five to eight years in the future, give or take was as close as she
could come. Only more than ten years had passed since the accident with no
trace of them.
Mrs. Bell gave her
a considering look. Then she set down her teacup and stared into Sojie’s eyes
as if searching for the answer to an unvoiced question. Goosebumps pricked
Sojie’s skin.
At last, seemingly
satisfied, Mrs. Bell spoke. “I’m going to tell you something that no one knows
outside this house, not even the United States Government. Repeating the
information outside these walls could get you or someone you love killed. Do
you understand?”
Sojie blinked at
the unexpected turn the conversation had taken. Then she sighed. She shouldn’t be surprised,
considering this had always been a house of intrigue. “I’m sworn to secrecy. I
understand.”
“You may find what
I have to say disturbing, but it’s vital that you understand your mother’s
motivations in attempting what we must over the next months. These experiments
have far-reaching moral as well as practical implications. Things will become
even more strange than usual at Headley House, and more dangerous.”
Sojie shivered at
the prospect, then nodded. She needed to know what was going on.
A tap on the door
made them jump.
