Daciana and the Beast- chapter one

It was a long cold trip up the Pacific coast line. As to why I was going there... I had no solid idea. My best guesses were that my Mother had picked my step-father over me and that I was now being sent away. It felt like the modern day equivalent to banishment. Not that we did that any more, but here I was being banished to the cold regions northward. I liked imagining myself a damsel in distress and being the martyr as I rode on the front of the cruise ship standing against the blowing winds of the frigid North. I closed my eyes and thought of the cruise liner as old wooden masted ship that my mother had chartered to send me off. I imagined the crew as seedy pirates that I was trying to keep a distance from. I watched as the ice slipped by and then as we came near to the entry into Cook Inlet. The ice became less sparse and I decided that it was time to go inside.


We disembarked in the early morning and it was off to the train station with me. I rode north and into the mainland watching the vistas of the train window. I ate in the dinner car as we stopped in Anchorage, and then continued on Northward. We stopped in the city of Wasilla, more than an hour past Anchorage. At the station I found my two trunks on the platform. My father was standing there by them looking as plain and sturdy as always. He had little that was extraordinary about him; he was just so very good. He packed my things into the back of an extended cab truck. I threw my pack in the front and climbed in after it. Once we were both inside I said hi to him. He smiled and said it was nice to see me. Then we were off through the little town and towards what would now be our house.

Between the middle of nowhere and nowhere was my father’s house. It was not in the city proper, but farther out in the country. Again the feeling of a real banishment washed over me as we drove across the ice covered country side to the small, thick walled outpost that was both the Fish and game office and my father’s house. It was dark green on the outside which made it easier to see in the white landscape. We pulled into the garage, which he told me was a luxury around here. Frankly I found the word luxury more than a bit ironic considering. Once out of the car, the temperature wasn’t that much better. I shivered from top to bottom. We went into what I figured was the smallest room in the world. It only contained hooks for coats and organizers for boots. I kicked off my boots and stood on the mat, unwilling to take off my coat. Dad smiled. He understood in his quiet male way.

We went through another door and were into the house proper. It was nice, simple and very much a bachelor pad that was centered around a TV, but better than the entry had made me expect. There was no art on the walls to speak of, but pictures that he had taken, tacked up with multi-colored thumb tacks. I smiled. In so many ways, men were so much simpler than women. They required food, TV, and a comfortable place to sit. This was taken care of by a scroungy lazy-boy that goodwill would even turn away.

He caught the direction of my gaze and looked a little bit abashed, “We’ll go into town this week and get you a place to sit.”

I laughed at him, “Can we get me a new one?” I teased.

He looked down at me and nodded.

He directed me to the bedrooms; luckily there were two of them. I had probably the larger of the two. It was an odd shade of age bleached green. It didn’t bode well for the long term liability of the decor.

“Can we get paint when we are in town?” I asked.

Again he smiled and nodded.

I tossed my pack on the unmade bed and dad had already gone outside to fetch my trunks. I sighed, so this was my life, a little green room, in a little green government building, in the middle of a big white nowhere.

I wondered what I was going to do, a girl from the big city in the middle of nowhere. I knew only my dad, I had no idea where the closest neighbor lived, but it could not be close considering that I had not seen any other housing for twenty minutes before we had arrived at the outpost. I had my laptop, but I began to worry that there would be no internet. I had not brought the cell phone; mom had been kind enough to cancel it for me after telling me there would be no reception here. I had never been a huge reader; maybe living in this place would make me learn. I gave up on the room and went back to the kitchen.

Now here was somewhere that I knew. It didn’t have all the tools I was used to, but it was a kitchen all the same with a stove and at least one knife. I opened the refrigerator door and to my horror, there was milk, cheese, and something covered in foil. The freezer wasn’t much better, it was filled with TV dinners, all pre-made of course. I closed both doors and put my forehead on the fridge, then beat it a few times in frustration.

“Are you planning on helping the fridge to grow?” dad asked in an amused voice.

I jumped a foot still holding onto the fridge handle.

“Because I know for sure that it doesn’t work.” He continued to tease.

I pursed my lips, “I was just expressing my disgust with your fridge’s lack of ability to fill itself,” I informed him, a bit defensively.

He smiled, “I know, also something we will have to remedy.”

“Tonight,” I replied, “I am not eating TV dinners.”

“And you used to be such a non-demanding child.”

“We all grow out of hot dogs and macaroni every night, eventually,” I replied.

“Well, let me put in a call to a friend of mine. We can get some basics at the local store, but somehow I think that the basics are not going to be up to par for you.” He turned to go through a door on the other side of the room. Then he stopped, “You want to see the office?”

I laughed, “Of course.” He had this way of making me feel like a little girl with the simplest of things. Nothing had changed. This was still my daddy.

“Who is this friend?” I asked as he disappeared into the also space office.

“Huh?” he asked looking up from the phone, “Hi, San? Its Blair... yeah, she’s here. She’s good, I think... A little disappointed at the lack of good food... well, maybe you’ve found a friend who can appreciate your tastes... I know, thanks... can we stop by?.. I understand... okay, whatever you think best... we’ll head out soon.” And he hung up the phone.

I was lost, “Was that a yes, or a no? I couldn’t tell.”

He smiled that Dad smile, “A yes, but he’s not up for company so he’ll leave it in a special place for us.”

“Cryptic. So, huh what kind of name is San anyway?”

He thought about that as he began hauling the second trunk in from the entry, “It sounds European to me, but I never asked.”

“As usual dad, you go for the good guy, no more information necessary route.” I waited for him to finish.

“What can I say? I am a man,” as if that explained it all.

We were back in the car in no time at all and cruising across the white plains.

“Dad?” I began, “Do you mind if I turn on some music. It is eerie how quiet it is when we drive out here.”

He laughed, more of a bark of humor than anything, “So long as it’s not terrible.”

After a few disagreements we settled for a mellow oldies CD I had brought to placate him. We could not have gone more than a few songs away from the outpost when we came to a large slope. It was hard to see when the whole countryside was white, but the road was definitely sloping down. Suddenly in the very close proximity was an unbelievably large house. It looked more than sturdy, built with thick stone and two stories high.

“This looks like a castle.”

He laughed again, “It does.” Again the male need for only the obvious frustrated me.

He went to the front door, motioning me to stay in the car. He came out only moments later with two heaping boxes of very fresh produce. That was even more peculiar than the huge castle of stone in the middle of the artic. How did someone grow such great produce in a stone castle in Alaska? This was someone that I needed to meet. Maybe he had it all shipped in and made his money supplying all the local restaurants... but there were no local restaurants. There was no local anything.

Dad opened the back door and put the boxes on the back seat. I inhaled deeply. It still smelled of warm earth. There were mushrooms, and all kinds of lettuce, there were vine tomatoes, and herbs of every variety. I smelled each one gratefully. They reminded me of warm wet Seattle. Of summer and gardening while my mom did other things inside with work. There were even mint leaves. Not that I made tea, but they reminded me of my old garden where a plant of mint grew between the walkway and the chimney. I had pulled it out a number of times, roots and all, but it always grew back. I had never used them for anything, but they smelled of home.

“Oh,” I remembered, turning around into my seat, “I forgot to ask if you have the internet.”

He laughed at that for real, “We may live in the middle of nowhere, but I work for the government and they require that I send weekly reports on various subjects. To get them there before spring, I have to have e-mail. You will also be pleased to know that it is a satellite uplink, which is the highest speed, except for when we are white-ed out.”

“White-ed out?”

He smiled again, “No snow comes down from the sky, but sometimes it blows around so hard that it might as well. You can’t see a foot.” His eyes never left the road.

“Gee that sounds pleasant.” Another thrill waiting for me here.

We arrived back at home and I packed one of the boxes of produce into the kitchen possessively. I plopped it down on the counter and dad set his beside mine. I opened the fridge and began piling them in order across the empty shelves. I was excited to find cucumber and squash of many varieties at the bottom. There was almost every vegetable and fruit that I could imagine stacked in Dad’s fridge. This was a definite improvement.

“Now to the store,” he said with a little sarcasm.

“We need to, I bet you don’t even have Olive oil,” it was meant to be a jab, as it would have been to my mom or anyone else in the city. Dad just shrugged his why would I and headed out to the car again.

Once in town we had a large list of chores. We began at a furniture store, which surprised me, until I thought that we were beginning with dad’s most important priority. We chose a chair I could comfortably sit sideways in. Mom would have disapproved of my choosing method, but I knew I would never hear my dad tell me to put my feet down. That would be too many words for no good reason. Then to the home improvement store for paint and to my surprise curtains and kitchen towels. I went with a desert orange and red. I was going to have way too much time on my hands so I might as well pick a complicated paint scheme. Especially if it would make me feel warmer. I was sure I was never going to thaw. I was introduced to everyone, by name, not that I would remember a single name, I was never any good at that, but they all seemed to know me.

Finally we headed to my favorite store, the grocery store. It was more of a grocery and various other things store. I dithered in the baking isle for a long time. In the end, dad decided that I should “buy it all” which really just meant I should hurry up and decided. That would have been too many words.

I winced as the one cashier announced “Two Hundred twenty three dollars and ten cents.”

Dad took it in stride, but didn’t hand the man money, “I believe there is something else for me. A special order?”

The man nodded and dad turned to me, “You should take this stuff out to the truck.”

I pushed the cart out and began putting bags in the back of the truck. Before I was done, dad was outside with a large box, still wrapped in paper.

“What is it?” I asked, putting another bag inside.

“You’ll see,” he replied and turned the engine over.

Now I was curious. Was it for me? How much money did my dad have that he had just dumped so much on my first day? I finished unloading and climbed into the passenger seat. I was quiet the whole way home, imagining all the good things it could be. It was too big to be a CD. It was too little to be a stereo, unless it was really expensive. It was too square to be new sheets....

We unloaded all the groceries through the little entry and again met in the kitchen to put them away. He handed them to me and I found them homes. At last all the bags were empty and I stood waiting for my gift.

“Should go get the chair,” he said, mischief giving him away as he went out to the truck again.

I gave up and began making dinner. It was dark already, but it had been going that way since we left the grocery store. I made pesto pasta with the fresh basil and tomatoes. We had French bread and fresh green beans. Dad had not even bothered with my gift until we were done, sitting in newly assembled chairs in front of ESPN.

“So, did you want to see what was in the box?”

I laughed. Dad didn’t need words and it really wasn’t a question.

He got up and fetched me the box. I tore away the brown paper to reveal a food processor. “Oh dad, thank you.” It would save me so much time and I loved kitchen gadgets.

I got up and hugged him, then sat down with the box in my lap to watch a show with my father. The one that wanted me. I was not in his way and that was nice. Better still, he gave me things I liked and not just the things that were trendy for kids my age or on sale. He was a good dad. Quiet, sturdy, good.

I fell asleep in the chair still holding my food processor. I heard my dad chuckle at me as he directed me to bed. I lay down on the bare mattress and he threw a blanket over me. I promised my drowsy self that I would unpack my sheets the next day.

A week passed with few changes.

I dropped Marie a line when I had finally figured out how to hook up dad’s wireless internet and could type in the peace of my room.

Dear Marie-

How’s Seattle? Is Patrick still being annoying? I think sickness of snow will be my constant sickness for the next few months. Dad is just as I remember him. The strong silent type, but always good. He brought me a food processor, wasn’t that nice? It is the most advanced tool in his kitchen.

-Daci

She replied with in an hour.

D-

To put it succinctly, Patrick sucks. I can’t relay many of the details, but I remember being furious. He kept saying the most ridiculous crap. Haven’t seen him in days. I wish I didn’t miss him at all, so I have been drowning my sorrows in a tall guy named Russell. Cool about the kitchen stuff, I know how much you dig useless appliances. Wish you were here to cook for me. Are there any high points about nowhere land, yet?

-Marie

Dad and I fell into a regular routine. I made dad gourmet meals and thanked him frequently for my kitchen supplies. All he ever said in response was;

“I should be paying you.” Or “Had I known what a good chef you were, I would have demanded your company sooner.”

In truth it was just very nice to be appreciated.

In the interim I was surprised to find that there had been no snow storms. I asked dad about this and he smiled his knowing smile and told me;

“Don’t worry, it will come. It always does.” From anyone else’s mouth it would have been an irritatingly patriarchal remark, but form dad it was just the truth.

It was Tuesday of my second week with dad when at our normal breakfast he cleared his throat.

“Yes?” I asked.

He looked serious, “I have a trip to go on. I have to check on some animal populations and will be gone for about a week.”

I blinked at him dumbly.

“I wanted to know what you would need while I was gone.”

Still dumbfounded, “A week?”

“Yes,” he waited for it to sink in.

“Transportation,” I replied, picking up my pancakes and sitting across the dinette from him.

He smiled, “Maybe I should spend the day teaching you how to drive the Artic CAT.”

“Drive a cat?” I shoved a bite into my mouth.

“Yes, it’s a snowmobile. It'll get you anywhere, but it is just a little slower than the truck on roads.”

So after breakfast we bundled up and spent the next few hours driving the CAT. I was almost as exciting as a motorcycle, but bigger. It was loud as it roared to under my seat, and it gave off the most comforting warmth. There was a huge storage bin attached to the back, which made it a bit unwieldy, but with it I could easily cart quite a bit around.

At lunch time we came in for warm tomato soup and sandwiches.

“Have you come up with anything else you will need before I go?” he asked, picking up on the conversation from the morning.

“Supplies,” I replied.

“After how much you spent at the store, I figured it would tide you over for longer than that.”

“No,” I disagreed, a little irritated at the implication of being so spendthrift, “I don’t need more from the store, and I need more veggies.”

“Oh,” was all he said, but the worried look on his face said so much more. I wondered at how that could be so much more to ask.

“Can’t you call your friend?” it seemed too simple to me.

“My friend is… complicated,” he muttered into his soup.

“I could pick it up,” I offered again just trying to be helpful.

This seemed to concern him more. After a few more moments he nodded his head in ascent, “I will call him.”

My curiosity was aroused. Especially as he continued to react so badly. Was he a recluse? Was he afraid of young girls? What could be so bad?

Dad called later as he had promised; only this time he closed the office door and I could hear none of what was said. I turned on a show to wait for him and pretend like I could manage to ignore this puzzle. I had a recipe book across my knees to keep me busy during the commercials. I could wait him out.

When he opened the door, he was wearing that very serious look that said ‘this is an adult matter and I expect you to be serious,’ “Daci, I talked to San. He said he would get supplies gathered for you. You can pick them up in the morning, but you must only go in far enough to get the boxes. He isn’t much for company. So, don’t disturb him.”

I nodded and the serious look left his face.

“Well, on to more exciting things. Let’s watch ESPN.”

He always thought that would be such an exciting highlight to me. It never was, but it was nice to be with dad, doing something he liked. Even if I thought that the big burly announcer had a brain the size of a pea.



It was very early when dad left. I heard the truck rumble to life not far from my room, but I rolled over and snuggled back down into my pleasantly warm bed. I was not getting up yet. Eventually I caved to the necessity of emerging from my bed. I wandered around the kitchen finding breakfast, and then sat at the table to read my father’s note.



Daci-

Went to work. Back in a week. When you go to Sandulf’s be cautious. Just get your things and get home. Don’t worry; he’s not bad, just reclusive. You can go into town if you need to. There is money in the desk in the office, don’t spend it all in one place, leave receipts. Make sure and shower, daily. Don’t do anything stupid.



Dad



I rolled my eyes. A boy note written to a boy. Someday, dad would realize I was a girl. I shoved the note away and kicked my feet up onto the table. Today was going to be good. I would have full reign of the shows I watched, no more ESPN for me. First, I thought I should go to get produce. That required a shower. It was noon, by the clock on my nightstand, when I finished primping and getting ready for the day. Normally I would not have taken that long, but I had no male company so there was no one to tell me otherwise. Not that it made much difference; I had to pile on herds of clothing to keep myself warm. Today was especially bad, it was blowing wind, and the sky was clear and cold.

I turned on the CAT and went back inside to pull on my scarf and a thicker pair of gloves. I waited another minute before bracing myself to head back out into the cold. The engine roared to life under me and a happy burst of adrenaline began coursing through my veins, also adding to the warmth. It was a long drive down the road to the castle house. I wondered a few times if I was going the wrong way, but I could not be because there were only two ways to go on the road and the city was the other way. I finally came to the steep hill and knew I was close. Ahead loomed the castle walls. Unfortunately, the wind had picked up fiercely and I was chattering as I located the house. I hadn’t seen the storm rolling across the sky. I would have had I looked away from my destination, but I hadn’t looked. As I came up to the front of the house, the first wave of the storm hit me, nearly throwing me from the CAT.

That was the first moment I turned to see unending sheets of white coming down. I began chattering harder. I could not drive the CAT home in this weather. I wanted to panic. First thing was to get inside. I would just sit inside the door for a few hours while the storm passed. I would not bother dad’s friend, but I was not so stupid to think that I was going to try and get home. That would just be a recipe for getting dead.



I pulled the key quickly from the CAT and dashed for where the front door had been. Already I could not see feet in front of my face. I found the handles and shoved open the door. It took more than a little effort to close them behind me. I slid down to the floor, my back against the glossy thick wooden door. The floor was oddly warm. I put my head in my arms, which rested across my knees. This was not how I had planned today to go. I was looking forward to hours of monotonous female TV. I looked up and saw the boxes of vegetables sitting next to me. I pulled an apple out and crunched into it. At least there was good food to eat.

Once I finished the apple and put the core down next to the box I began to wonder if I should open the door to see if the storm had passed. I stood up and made to haul at the handles.

“I wouldn’t,” a very deep rumbling voice came from the other side of the huge vaulted entry. I turned to scan the room, looking for a huge man who could make that voice. It was almost James Earl Jones, but maybe more like Mr. Jones after smoking four packs a day for years. It sent shivers down my spine, but not all of them were of the bad variety. I looked across the immaculately polished tile floor. No one. Up the beautifully kept double stair, no one. All the other dark mahogany doors around the entry were closed. I saw no one.

“Where are you?” I asked, no response, “Is that you Mr., Sandulf?”

“Yes,” he replied. The hall echoed to the point that I couldn’t place the sound.

“I am so sorry to have intruded like this. I meant to obey and not bother you. I just got caught in the storm...”

“You were supposed to come in the morning,” he replied, voice at once enticing and flat with irritation.

“Well,” was all I replied. I wanted to spew out a remark about his lack of manners, but bit my tongue, not wanting him to throw me back out into the snow.

“Could I get a drink?” I asked.

There was no reply for a few moments. “The kitchen is the second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” and I went for the door. It swung open easily and the polished floor continued on into the well lighted, but still empty room. I was amazed. It had all the tools of a real professional kitchen; I ran my hand over the stove with envy. Six gas burners. Two convection ovens. Granite counters tops all around and satin finished cabinets with spotless Titanium handles.

‘Oh the work I could do here,’ I told myself.

I looked in the cupboards until I found glasses, well not real glasses, but goblets. They would hold water and that was all I required of them. I went to the sink, again spotless, as if a cleaning crew had been in here only moments before. I traced the edge of the sink with my index finger. It was so beautiful, how all these things were so perfectly arranged. I was more than a little envious. Even the water seemed to have a rare perfection about it. I set the glass down by the sink after drinking and then went back to the entry.

“Thank you,” I said to the hidden Sandulf.

“You have a bit of a hard choice ahead of you,” he began, his voice at once a bit darker than it had been.

“And what choice is that?” I replied to the stairs.

“You have come here just as a week long storm has hit. You cannot safely head home until it has passed.”

“Oh....” I had really made a mess of this, “What is the choice?”

“What we are to do now.”

I waited and thought over my words carefully, not wanting to offend, especially considering what I had just learned. “Can I ask you something?”

There was a long pause, “One thing.”

“Am I so bad that you don’t want to even come out and talk to me?”

He barked a laugh out. “I am the so bad one, little girl. I don’t come out to spare you.”

“Oh, so you are the hunchback of Notre Dame huh?” I meant it as a joke, to try and lighten the mood.

“I am far worse.”

I hung my head, “then how shall we proceed?”

Again he paused. I waited looking at my toes trying to imagine what could be worse, was he bad inside as well, or was he so badly disfigured that he imagined himself unworthy to be seen.

“I will direct you to your room.”

“I am sorry you don’t want to be seen. Can I ask one more thing?” I continued, this time talking to my shoes.

“Yes,” the reply was very quiet.

“Are you worse inside or out?” I waited for the reply.

“Quasimodo was very good on the inside; it is hard to be as good as he was. Unfortunately, I am worse in both ways.”

“I have a hard time believing that such a kind voice could come from someone bad. Besides, my father likes you.”

There was again a long silence.

“What is your name, daughter of Blair Hickey?” It was again in a softer, almost regretful voice.

“Daci,” I replied with a smile, “Daciana, it means She-wolf. My father has always loved animals, so he named me one.”

This must have intrigued him enough to continue, “Well, she-wolf, I would ask if you are willing to submit that faith of yours to trial?”

I smiled, “You challenge my resolve? To what?”

“If you are so certain that I am good, I will let you see me. But, I must ask that if I am so bad that you do not wish to see me again, you tell me.”

“A common courtesy, but I will ask one in return. I am a little girl as you have said, and less quick than I would like to be. If I am frightened please forgive me and give me time to make the choice as to what I should do. As you said we do have a week.”

“As you wish... Are you prepared?”

I was sure that I was. In this beautiful place, so much perfection, he was going to be not so bad and I schooled my face to say so. Unfortunately I could not hold the look of indifference as long as I wanted to. From the shadows under the stair came an animal. He walked on two legs, but was covered with long black hair, the kind that would look right on a perfect faced model from India. His face was still in shadow. I imagined a werewolf, and I began to get nervous. ‘This is a man,’ I told myself, but my inside quivered without pessimism. He stopped half way into the light so that I could see his face. He had bright green eyes; they looked full of worry and scorn, not for me but for himself. I began to relax looking at those eyes, they were human.

I took one step towards him. He stepped back. I scowled.

“How am I supposed to decide if you are good if you don’t let me get a full look at you?” I demanded. It was easy to be angry. It washed all the fear away.

He was startled by the reaction. I took another step forward in experimentation. He didn’t move away again. I smiled at that. At least he was willing enough to trust me. I still on the other hand had a hard time not imagining him eating me. He looked like a creature out of a horror film. I was now close enough to reach out and touch him, but I did not. I looked at his hands, they were mostly human. He had claw like nails, but they probably would look normal if they were better cared for. He was completely covered in hair, and to my great amusement only wearing hair. He was taller than me, but so were most people. He might even have been as tall as one of the basketball players that dad made me watch all the time on ESPN, but TV might have skewed my perceptions. I supposed that other than the very heavy coat of hair that obscured most of his body, he was mostly normal, if very tall.

I was smiling at the idea when I got back around to the front of him.

“So you laugh at me,” he was severely offended.

“No, I was just amused with myself for one of the things I put on my mental list about you.”

His eyes warred between wanting to be offended and curiosity about what I found so funny.

“Don’t you want to know?” I teased, batting my eyes. I could imagine him as a man especially if I could begin to get him to react like one.

“What?”

“I was amused that you were wearing no clothes.”

He looked amused. “Not the reaction I expected. Let me show you to your room.”

We went up the stairs and followed a long hallway to its end. On the way there I continued to pester him.

“You like to be alone?”

He shook his head, “You don’t find many people willing to give me the shadow of the doubt, most would shoot me for a trophy. Not a good first impression.”

“I meant tonight.”

He stopped. He turned slowly to look at me.

“I don’t suppose you get TV?” I asked his green eyes.

“I do…” he replied, turning back to the hall.

“Are there any shows that you like?”

“There are…”

I pursed my lips, “not much of conversationalist are we?”

He stopped at the end of the hall, “Not much occasion.” He pushed open the door to his left.

It was a round room, which was beautiful in and of itself. I gasped. My eyes must have been popping out of their sockets. ‘W-O-W’ I said with my lips.

He chuckled again, and I understood the animal quality to his voice, “you are an odd person Daci, you gape at a well appointed room, but at a creature who talks like a man, you make jokes.”

“There are some things worthy of awe and some worthy of curiosity. This room, and the kitchen I might add, are worthy of awe. You, are worthy of curiosity, so far you have given me no reason to fear you.”

“Other than how I look,” he replied with great certainty.

“I have found that the most vile creature in the world often inhabit the most beautiful of bodies. You may turn out to be the opposite.”

I went over and ran my hands across the wood of the bed and then the sheets. Everything in this house was so perfect. I reached down and ran my hands in the rug, it was plush and soft, so much so that I sat and pulled off my shoes to wiggle my toes in it.

The curtains were heavy brocade velvet and the glass revealed only white, of the snow outside. I ran my hand over the leather inlay in the matching desk. Everything in this room was awe inspiring. I half expected that he had left me, but I turned back to see him watching every move that I was making.

‘I am amazed,” I informed him.

I guessed that I could see him smiled, “I enjoy you being amazed.” He replied, “But it raises one question for me. Are you amazed for the sake of being amazed, or because a creature such as me is surrounded by things such as these?”

I pursed my lips, put one hand on my hip and thrust it out to the side in irritation. “You ask me not to judge you and yet you have now decided a few times that I might be insulting you. I make you this promise, I will tell you directly any time I feel like being insulting. And in return I will ask that you actually do give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I just like how they feel and smell thank you. I would like them even if you looked like Adonis.”

He sounded very bitter in his reply, “If I looked like Adonis...”

I turned and looked him strait in the eyes. “Get over it. I don’t look like Aphrodite either.”

He was taken aback by that. I shrugged and began exploring again. Attached to the room was a bathroom to rival the roman baths. It was all tiles, maybe marble, but I had never seen marble before to know the difference. The tub was massive, easily big enough for San. It looked so inviting. I touched all the surfaces and looked hopefully out the window, but it was still just white opaque snow.

“What would you like to do, since it is still storming?” San asked.

“What do you do all day in a frozen waste land?”

This amused him, “There are quite a few things that we can do. I have a large house if you want to explore, I have a solarium we can go look at the plants, or we can go play video games.”

“Video games?” I was very sarcastic, “You like video games? Can you even play?”

He got defiantly male about his response, “I am actually very good.”

That made me laugh. “You are surprising too... What games do you have?”

“I have so many that I am not sure how to name them all for you.” He turned and gestured for me to follow him.

“I was really just asking, I think I would rather see the solarium. I have been curious about your produce since we came here last time.”

“Well, I can say of a certainty that you will not be disappointed.”

“So, that leads me to another question. Do you mind?’

He stopped, “Was that do I mind as the question or do I mind if you ask another question?”

“Do you mind if I ask another question.” I replied.

“By all means.”

“Do you think you are a bad person? And if so, how did you come to this conclusion?” I was very serious about this.

“I think I am not a good person. And I would say that my life has said it is true.”

“Well, that is silly.” I retorted, irritated by his off the cuff manner.

“You are saying that my method is silly, or I am.” He continued to lead me across the house, past the stair and in the opposite direction of my room.

“Both. I think deciding you are bad because of bad circumstance is ridiculous.”

“So, now I am ridiculous?”

“If I were to use your criteria, then I am a bad person too, just because of what life has given me.”

“Then, maybe I am wrong. You are not a bad person.”

“Neither does it seem that you are.”

“That remains to be seen.”

He brokered no room for further discussion as he came to the end of the hall. It was none the different from the one that held my room; one could easily be confused as to where you were. He opened the door quickly and I was surprised to be looking into a two story solarium. The ceiling was glass panels with lights hanging almost a story down in some places and very high in others. That was not the most amazing part. The most amazing things were the plant life. This was no ordinary solarium. It had a raised bed garden, a raised bed orchard, and all varieties of food that could be imagined. I walked down the stairs in front of me in amazement. It was fabulous, a little piece of a fertile world within the artic realm. The air was warm and wet. I basked in the feel.

Once at the bottom of the stair, I stopped and sat on one of the raised beds. The earth within was dark and fertile. I scooped up a handful and smelled it. It was the smell of childhood. It was the smell of my garden in Seattle. I loved the smell of plant worthy dirt. I looked over the fragrant tomato plants at the apple trees.

“Do you like this place?”

I turned and looked at the still startling San. “Yes, very much. I could spend years here.”

He smiled that for some reason made him very happy. “I have.” He turned from me and went away towards the orchard. I followed, curious about the other secrets of this house. On the other side of the orchard was a long rough wood potting table. It held files of seeds and baskets with innumerable tools, fertilizers, and composts.

“Would you like to plant something?” he asked me as he reached the table.

He knew I had followed him, and why would I not have, he kept showing me more interesting things.

“Is there anything that you do not already have growing here?” I asked rhetorically as I walked up right next to him to see what he would have me plant.

“There are a few things that I struggle to grow.” He handed me a small seed from a packet and pushed an old cracked enamel pot towards me.

I pushed the soil around for a moment, thinking what to ask, “How deep does it need to go?” I looked up at him. His smell amazed me. It somehow was very nice, potent and almost animalesque, but really good almost enough to make me want to smell him more closely, but I resisted.

“It actually does not matter.” He replied.

“How can it not matter, it matters with everything.”

“Well, maybe I should say, I do not know. I have never successfully grown this plant.”

I laughed at that, “You, an expert gardener have never successfully grown this, and you ask me a mere novice to help you? Are you expecting beginner’s luck?”

“Stranger things have happened. That is why they call it beginner’s luck.”

I thought about that, again he seemed to be asking an unrealistic question, but what would it hurt me to try. “What is it?”

He took a moment to answer as if deciding how much to tell me. “A rose.”

“A rose, a hybrid of some sort?”

“Yes,” but his smile was crooked, “of some sort.”

“Well, most roses like a half-inch of soil and maybe do you have vermiculite?”

He liked the answer. “How much would you like?”

“I think half- vermiculite, half-soil,” I told him. “Do you have and rooting hormone?”

This also surprised him, “Yes,” he handed me a small container. I looked for a pair of gloves, but there were none on the table, so I opted for a tiny spade. I dropped the seed in the hormone and then shoveled it out again. It was covered by white powder. I plopped it into the pot and covered it with a bit of soil. I looked up at him expectantly.

“Where should I put it?”

“Anywhere you like, but you should look in on it regularly and see if you have more luck with it than I have.”

“Somewhere with other roses,” I told him, “I don’t think it would do well to try somewhere that was set up for other plants.”

He nodded and began leading again. Past the potting area, past the orchard, in another direction from the garden, was the rose garden. It was magnificent, and so fragrant. It not only contained roses, but flowers in amazing abundance. They were so magnificent. One area was empty, right at the heart of the flower garden.

“Is this area seeded?” I asked.

“No, I hadn’t decided what to put there yet.” He looked at it in irritation.

“Well, this will do fine then.” I set the pot on the ground in the bed and began looking for a watering can.

“What are you seeking?” he followed my gaze.

“Water.” I replied distantly.

“Here,” somehow he had a can in his hand in moments.

“Thank you.” I watered the little seed carefully, watching the soil absorb water.

“Would you like to help me with other things around here, you seem to have a talent.”

That was all that needed to be said and I most willingly was up to my elbows in soil, quickly forgetting that it was either the middle of a snow storm or the middle of the tundra. The day was very nice, we talked, Sandulf and I about small things, favorite colors, favorite things to eat, good books, good movies, good friends, unfortunately I had more in the last Category then he did, and understandably so.

It was getting very late when he asked another question, “Would you mind if I proposed a game?”

I was amused, “Don’t you think we are a little old for games?”

“No, this one I think we are not. I would propose that you come up with one question every day about anything you want. Sometimes you can stretch it to two questions if one does not quite cover it. And we will begin our conversation every day with those questions. You can go first and when we have exhausted the subject, I will ask you mine.”

I smiled, “Fair enough.”

“So, I ask you my question for the day. What is your favorite breakfast food?”

“That is easy.” I replied glad for a simple question, seeing, as I was very tired. “Eggs Benedict. I love hollandaise sauce. My grandmother used to make them just for us and they still give me the feeling of well being and acceptance.”

He nodded and then began leading me to my room. Once there he turned to leave, “I didn’t get to ask you a question,” I yawned in mid-sentence making it less effective. He still turned and waited for the question.

“You don’t seem tired, do you sleep?”

“No,” he replied, “But sleep well, Daci, I will see you when you wake up in the morning.”

“How will I find you?” I asked.

“I will find you.” And he was gone.

I looked at my filthy clothes, “and what will I wear?” I shook my head. I should have come with clothes, but I hadn’t known I would be a house guest for a week. On the counter by the sink was a toothbrush, in package, a hair brush, face soap, and other female hygiene items. I was so grateful. Maybe clothes would appear in the morning too. I bathed in wonderfully hot water and lots of soap. I climbed into bed in my underwear, pulled out the laptop he was letting me use and set about typing a note to Marie.

Mar-

Weirdest thing, you’ll never believe me if I tell you all the details. I am snowed in with what amounts to a beast. As in side show looking guy. He’s got a bad temper and assumes the worst whenever possible, but I think there may be something good in there. Maybe that is just me being classic me and going for the crazy, but there it is.

-Daci

When I finished I set it down by the bed and was within moments asleep.



I dreamed very little and morning came quickly, not that the light changed that much, it was impossible to see any light, due to the thick snow that continued to fall. I yawned and looked over at my clock that said I should be up already. So, I trudged to the bathroom and found my clothes clean and piled by the sink. Now I wished I had gone to bed naked. I showered again to get the smell of sleep off of me, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. I jumped back up on the bed to check if I had a response yet.



D-

What kind of freak show are we talking about here? Too many arms or snake boy? And please tell me after all we’ve been through that you are not serious about him. Oh and no more Russell. I gave him up and started going after a burly Mexican guy strangely named John.

-Mar



I shook my head at her as I responded.



Marie-

He’s… strange. Frankly a bit too hairy for any normal guy, but the simple look of his brilliant eyes makes me shudder. The good kind of shuddering, the kind that makes you want to reach out and make-out with someone. You’d be impressed with how tall he is. His house is something else altogether. He even has a garden inside! Not that you can grow one anywhere else.

-Daci



I close the computer again and took my brush with me and combed out my hair as I went down to the kitchen. My stomach was protesting to my getting up process, and I would have to find food quickly to quiet it. I entered a quiet kitchen and found a grapefruit in the fridge as well as a knife, spoon, and sugar. As I ate I contemplated what my question for the day should be. What should I ask? There were so many things that I wanted to know.

I decided to wait for him to ask his question first, they always led me to something good to ask. I left the rind of the grapefruit sitting on the counter, unsure what else to do with it. San would tell me.

Where was San? Maybe I should go out to the green house. I would be there if I had a choice.

I wandered out to the solarium and went among the many rows of plants, breathing deeply of the damp air. I looked for him among the vegetables, but he wasn’t there. I looked in the orchard, but couldn’t find him. I finally came to the rose garden and there he was, sitting next to the pot I had planted, examining it closely.

That made me smile, “You know roses take quite a bit of time to sprout,” I told him from feet away.

He was startled and put the flower down quickly. Once he saw me he relaxed again.

“I didn’t expect you for a while still; I understood that people of your age like to sleep half of the day away.”

I shook my head, “why would I want to with such a lovely garden to explore?”

He bowed in thanks, “I have worked a long time on this place, I am glad that it brings you joy.”

“So,” I tried to change the subject to a more comfortable one, “What are we doing today? More roses?”

He smiled, “No, today we have to work on the cacti.”

“You grow cacti?” I looked around in astonishment.

“Not in this room, but yes, will you help me?”

“What else is there?” it was rhetorical, but he didn’t understand that.

“Well, I suppose we could...”

I interrupted that, “I was being factitious.”

He nodded, “Then to the cactus?”

“Yes.”

The stone wall against the rose garden also contained a door, this one led to a very hot and dry room, although not extremely unpleasant. It was full of sand. I stopped to take off my shoes.

“Be cautious where you step without shoes,” he warned me.

“Okay,” I tied my shoes back up. With my luck I would find the worse cactus and step on it. We walked through huge bright pink flowered shrubs, and purple ones, and yellow ones, there were saguaro cacti stretching up towards the ceiling, but not the kind with only two arms like you see on post cards, but some had ten or more arms and the little ones had none. There were palm trees too. I liked the one that looked like a big pineapple sitting on the ground. They were all trimmed to perfection.

There was a potting table in this room as well, and there were small round cacti sitting in little pots, which they filled to the brim.

“These have outgrown their little homes and are ready to be transplanted.” He picked up a few pots and directed me to do the same. We walked over to a raised bed and sat down on the edge. It had larger varieties of the same cacti. He handed me a very thick pair of leather gloves and began by dumping the little cactus on its head in the open soil.

“What are these called anyway?” I asked as I toppled my little cactus into the soil.

“They are called yellow barrel cactus.”

“So, I have come up with my question for the day. Are you ready?”

“I am. Ask away.”

“Why a garden?” I asked.

“Do you mean why grow a garden?’

“Kind of. I mean, why did you choose to grow a garden? What was it about a garden that you liked?”

“That is easy enough. I have a hard time helping people because of how I look. As you might guess, they don’t readily except me, and I am not so willing to be rejected that I seek them out. So I garden.”

“So you don’t mind being alone?”

“It is peaceful here and I have all that I need. More than most.”

“Don’t you miss people?”

“I did. Until I had the pleasure of your company.”

I stopped and looked at him. I knew my big question for the next day; today I would continue to explore this one.

‘But I still am unsatisfied.”

“I will try again. I would like to help people, but they do not like me to be close to them. The plants on the other hand don’t seem to mind my looks too much.”

I giggled at that and pulled another cactus from its pot and made a hole for it in the ground.

“They need my help. All they ask is time and I have more than enough of that to give them.”

“So, you are here everyday with the plants?”

He looked at me, “Yes.”

I nodded.

We spoke about the plants for most of the day. At lunch time he invited me to have a meal with him, I accepted as long as I was not the meal. He almost found that funny. We went back to work on the cacti in the afternoon. After lunch he posed his question to me.

.