III

 

The last time a child stood in this house it seemed grander, the rooms larger,  every corner with a new secret to explore,

and stairs that wanted climbing. Now it was changed. Inside was a musk common in the walls of old houses. The front hall led immediately into the main living room, where wood floors were muted by knotted rag rugs. Where most people would hang pictures, instead there were shelves upon shelves occupied by porcelain miniatures. Each figure seemed a display of the man's declining health. Those from earlier years were finely detailed with clean lines and sophisticated designs. Then they began to change, first in the slight crookedness of eyebrows, the unevenness of blending, and then more dramatically, paint became splotched, any detail hindered by a wavering hand. Even so, the painted eyes were serene. 

Emma and the old man bickered in the manner of long accustomed friends as they entered the house. Hearing an old

stubborn voice in his midst reminded him of Grandfather. The creature called in protest and the young man inquired about whether there was tea in the house. The niece quickly abandoned Michael to his relief, and tended to her guest, leading him out of the musty living room and into a cozy kitchen. There was one round wooden table in the center covered by a square lace tablecloth. There, he set the cage. 

Emma busied herself with preparing a cup of tea, all the while talking about inconsequential matters as a topic of politeness.

She brought two cups of lukewarm jasmine tea. Once she sat, she took the opportunity to peek curiously into the cage, using a single forefinger to pull up the hem of the cover. Its back faced her, wings folded, leaving the head free to rotate and let its big, black marble eyes take in the surroundings. The young man observed the interaction carefully.

The inhabitant puffed its feathers as if reacting to a cool breeze, and then tucked its head under a wing.

“Not what I thought it would be.” She said disappointedly .
The young man relaxed at the bird’s nonchalance. 
“You aren’t exactly what I thought, either,” he said.
“And what were you expecting?” she said, taking offense. 

He drank the tea. It was unexpectedly sweet, forcing him to soothe the taste by rubbing his tongue against the backside of

his teeth. He remembered Grandfather and what he mentioned of the old man

“Not a family member. From the rumors—”

“Oh, rumors!” She interrupted. “Twenty years of rumors and what’s come of it? Nothing but ruining an old man’s life. If that’s

what you’ve come to pester him with. . .” She trailed off and focused on drinking her tea, swallowing with a satisfied gulp. “Now, how did you say you were related?”

“I’m not. I knew his friend, Jasper. Before he died, he told me to come here. I have a gift, you see.”

“Well, isn’t that nice. Shame that he couldn’t see Jasper one last time, but the wife wouldn’t have it.”
“Yes,” he said. “Shame.”