Number 9 Whorlton Rd

September 24, 1968

Today is gorgeous, just a step or two from perfect. The sky is clear and blue, with only the faintest hint of rainless clouds providing partial shade to offset the bright sun. The weather is unseasonably warm, the last hurrah of summer before chills set in, dragging us ever onward into fall with a quickly approaching winter. Due to the low humidity, the air feels crisp and light. Even with the sun at its apex, Aurelia was not overheated. The temperature was just right to be active outside and still feel refreshed. In fact, on a day such as today, there was usually no chance of finding her indoors. It is surprising, even to her, that despite her situation she finds herself curiously fixating on the weather. She looks to the sky and ponders the disconnect between her life and every story she's heard. It's strange. You see, in stories, both those told to children at bedtime, as well as in the novels she has read over and over, the weather mirrors the plot with stunning regularity. When the villain rises, the sky is dark with storms clouds, yet when the hero returns the sun rises and the sky clears. That's how it always is in stories. So it comes as an idle mystery why today, of all days, the sky is bright and cheerful. Where is the miserable rain and biting cold which so perfectly parallels similar tragedies in all her stories? How is it that one the worst days of her life is so poorly framed as to be juxtaposed with a gorgeous, just a step or two from perfect day?
 
A light breeze pushes golden hair into her eyes. The wind carries with it laughter; children, perhaps no more than a year or two Aurelia's senior, are playing football in the street. They've set up a small goal made of PVC piping and plastic netting. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders what game they're playing with the checkered, circular ball, no larger than a quaffle. While two boys kick the ball back and forth, a tall girl with braided hair charges towards them. A strong punt sends the ball into the back of the net, accompanied by an equal split of triumphant cheers and dejected groans. As the breeze dies down, the sounds of the game go with it, like windblown leaves brushing down a country trail. In their absence, a deep silence falls around Aurelia, leaving an intensity in the air. It is not unlike the calm before the storm... No, rather it is akin to the uncanny quiet after lighting strikes, the dreadful apprehension, the tension, the indrawn breath, before the thunderclap.
 
Her hand tightens unconsciously. The tiny creak of an old leather handle under white knuckles struggles to permeate the silence. She blinks.
 
————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–——
 
She looked ahead to view a townhouse. She didn't know what she was expecting, but certainly it wasn't this, the most ordinary of ordinary muggle dwellings. The building did not loom over her, nor did it cast a dark shadow. It didn't shine bright lights through the shutters, hinting at warmth within. It didn't invite her inside with an open door and the smell of baking bread. It just... stood. The exterior resembled every other building on the block; the same door, the same red clay brick, the same weathervane pointing carelessly in the direction of the now absent wind. This isn't to say that the townhouse was indistinguishable. It had a small, tidy garden with a porcelain gnome, the picket fence looked freshly painted, and the shutters were closed. Though she didn't show it, this last detail irritated Aurelia. Who would shut themself away from a day like this?
 
The man beside her broke the silence, "How about we go inside, eh Aurelia?" He smiled at her. He was a ministry worker, someone whose job it was to deal with muggles and to make sure wizard children are taken care of. He had a round face with little crinkles beside his eyes, giving him a grandfatherly appearance, even though he couldn't have been past his 40's. His eyes were remarkable and when he looked at you, you felt like he saw right through you, down to your core. He was endlessly patient, and generous, and kind. Aurelia did not like him. It was that smile, the same one he always wore when he would try to get her to talk to him. It was a lie of sorts, a mask he put on to set her at her ease. It wasn't a happy smile, the kind that mothers wear while looking at a newborn baby. Nor was it a sly smile, like when one has told a particularly rye joke. It dripped with empty promises and false hope, with stale comfort and venomous pity. It was the smile the healers wear around hospice patients. It was a smile that told her how wrong everything truly was, and how even though he was trying to make things better, he could never make things right again.
 
Aurelia nodded. She knew he wouldn't go on until she gave some sign of affirmation and she was too busy listening for the wind to want to talk to him. The ministry wizard opened the gate and strode up to the door. He raised his hand to the brass knocker, but before rapping on the door he looked back at her. There was that smile again.
 
Aurelia ignored the sound of the knocker, preferring to continue looking about the garden. The grass looked too cultivated for her liking. It was short and clean, clearly freshly cut no more than a day or so ago. It was so precise that it almost looked fake. The other lawns looked the same, like everyone in the neighborhood took part in a secret competition to have the highest degree of uniformity in their front yard. They took all the things Aurelia loved about grass and ruined them. It was too trimmed to be properly soft. If you were to lay down in it, it wouldn't reach past your head, enveloping you in a 4 inch tall forest, shielding you from the world. It you watched it from the top of a hill you wouldn't be able to see the wind blow through it, like waves lapping endlessly against a sandy shore. Of course, that last bit wouldn't be a problem for these people as there weren't any hills around either.
 
Idly she heard the doorknob turn and voices drifted into her perception.
 
"No, no, thank you. Whatever you're selling, I assure you I'm not interested."
 
"Oh no, sir, you misunderstand. You see, I'm here on official business."
 
"Official or not, you'll have to take it elsewhere. I'm sure Miss 'Number 7' would appreciate whatever you have in that suitcase. She's just down the road. None for me, thanks."
 
"No sir, you see..."
 
Aurelia stopped listening, instead focusing on a handsome barn owl perched on a nearby lamppost. He had gorgeous brown and auburn wings with a patch of beige running down his chest. He was an odd bird to see during the day, and Aurelia supposed that most muggles might be excited to see such a rare species out and about. Although, given her background, she knew the owl most likely had another purpose. Aurelia wondered why the bird perched somewhere so many people could see it. Was it proud of its coloration and wanted everyone to see? Maybe it had a better view for hunting atop the lamp. Maybe it just liked being up high and seeing the world around it. Aurelia could understand that. It turned its head and stared down at her, its face cast in shadow as its neck tilted downwards. Aurelia's eyes widened slightly at the sudden observation. Why was it staring at her? Surely, she's not that interesting. Was it trying to figure out who she was? Maybe it could tell that she didn't belong here either. Maybe he could tell that he wasn't alone any more. Aurelia smiled just a little.
 
She was drawn out of herself by a new silence, one that was hovering over her as sudden as the darkness from a cloud passing the sun. Aurelia looked back towards the door to see them both staring expectantly at her. The ministry wizard had stepped to the side, bringing her into view of the man behind the door for the first time. He was young, far younger than she expected in fact. She'd bet everything she owned, basically her whole suitcase, that he wasn't yet 30. He looked crisp in a dark suit jacket and slacks, a red necktie perfectly tightened about his collar with a matching pocket square in his front pocket. He had short, straight hair in a familiar golden shade. Set into a youthful face with no creases were striking silvery-blue eyes. Not knowing what was expected of her, Aurelia simply nodded, hoping they would interpret something useful from it.
 
"Right. You'd both best come in then."
 
The ministry wizard seemed to relax. "Thank you, Mr. Reid. Come along now, Aurelia."
 
————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–————–——
 
Aurelia was far too busy to be properly nervous. She carefully studied the garish sitting room, her curiosity reignited by the hundreds of muggle oddities surrounding her. The dark leather couch faced a wall adorned with colorful, impressionist artwork depicting... something colourful. It looked as if the artist had been struck by the confundus charm, causing their lines to wobble and their colours to blur from one shade to the next. Upon a mahogany davenport rested a silver typewriter alongside a large stack of blank paper, a single sheet still resting in the machine's clasp, some half-written correspondence momentarily forgotten. A large, box television stood opposite the couch, its screen giving off a faint white glow. This last object held her attention for a moment longer than the others. It looked warm, like a metal poker taken from a hot fire that has yet to lose its red hue. Aurelia decided it was dangerous and to give it ample space. A fine wooden door blocked the ministry worker and the young man from view, although she could still hear their muffled voices occasionally wafting through the oak...
 
"...solutely not. I don't even know her. You se...." the higher voice intoned. It had a slight whimsical quality with great range. It almost reminded Aurelia of a fairy, the kind that make mischief and scamper off before someone catches them.
 
"You're the only family she has now, you know as well as I do...." the deeper voice responded coolly. This voice wasn't nearly as interesting. It was warmer though.
 
Aurelia's eyes slid away from the door to focus on the machine next to it, as big as a person. It sported a massive glass pane at head level and had weird protrusions coming from a horizontal panel. There were strange multicolored images of bars and blocks stacked atop one another on the sides of the machine. Large letters embossed across the top and sides read "TETRIS". She considered for a moment, then walked over to the machine. She reasoned that since they had left her alone in this room, she was welcome to look about at the very least. As she stood before the device, it seemed even stranger than before. The glass panel was concave, not flat as she had expected. It protruded slightly from the edges of the box and faced toward her, giving her the impression of a large eye that had fixed its gaze upon her. The thought was unnerving. Looking at the panel with strange protrusions, she noticed that there were circular extrusions of vibrant colors: red and white and blue. What's more, they were shiny, but when she idly moved her index finger along one of the buttons, they did not feel like polished wood at all. What is this made of? She read words next to the buttons: player 1, player 2, start, pause... She slowly moved her hand over to the button labeled "start"...
 
"Look at me! I can't take care of a child. This isn't a place for one either, you know. I'm a bachelor. I have... guests... you can't expect me to suddenly drop everything to take in some girl I've never even met before!"
 
Though the deep voice rumbled some patient reply, Aurelia didn't listen. She had already moved to the side door on the far side of the room. She reasoned that since they had left her alone in this room, she was welcome to explore a bit at the very least. Beyond the door were two sets of stairs, one which ascended and the other that steeped downwards. She tilter her head from one side to the other, then took the upwards path. She liked being up high, after all. The second story sported three rooms and linen closet. The first was dead ahead and, since the door was open, Aurelia could tell that it was a bathroom. Instead, she turned to her left and opened the second door. Inside was a dimly lit room, light just peeking through the blinds at the far end. Despite the shuttered state of the windows, the house was oddly cool, somehow at least 10 degrees colder than outside. She crossed to the other side of the room and threw open the window. Sunlight and birdsong and the smell of maple filed the room, elucidating what she had not seen before. She appeared to be in a lavish bedroom equipped with the largest bed she had ever seen. Its pillows and sheets were made of a fine, silky smooth material and coloured a jet black with silver accents. A massive, ornate rug that was unmistakably foreign lined the floor. On the left there was a small bar table equipped with an assortment of liquors and fine glassware, though Aurelia didn't recognize the brands. On the right towered a massive glass display case filled with small figurines, like toys that muggle children played with. It was strange that this man kept these in here, especially because many of them were still in their boxes and hadn't likely been played with. There were all manner of drawers and cabinets that she idly thumbed through before becoming bored and moving on. A second door was ajar, leading into a walk-in closet the size of her bedroom back home. A large wardrobe was neatly organized, soaks, shirts, etc. But the fascinating aspect was a row of suits, each almost identical to the next. There were perhaps 30 in all. One for every day of the month.
 
Aurelia left the bedroom behind and instead crossed the hall to the opposite room. When she opened the door, she noticed that this one was far less decorated. It was a small office space that seemed to be doubling as a storage garage. A rather fancy desk, easily larger than Aurelia, sat strewn with various papers, charts, and diagrams. Surrounding the desk were mounds of cardboard boxes. She frowned when she approached the box and wondered what kind of soft wood it was made of. Just then, the box shook violently and a scampering sound escaped small holes at the bottom. Aurelia jumped six inches up and 3 feet back, steadying herself against the wall. The noise subsided as she caught her breath, her shock replaced with curiosity as she guessed as to what could be inside. Moving with extreme care, Aurelia approached the box again, eyeing the holes that encircled the container. She got down on her hands and knees and peeked through the tiny hole, but she couldn't see anything. She pressed her face even closer, straining to see whatever was inside. Just then, a long, wet tongue stretched out and licked her eye.
 
"Ugh!" She sat backwards and rubbed her sleeve against her face, getting the bulk of the moistness off her skin. A sappy residue was left behind covering her right eye. It was sticky and oily at the same time, both feeling slick and like it would adhere to anything. Aurelia scrambled to the bathroom and ran cold water over her eye. After a few minutes of scrubbing and a liberal application of bar soap, she decided that whatever was in the box was best left alone for now.
 
Having seen the bulk of the second floor, she returned to the sitting room long enough to hear that their discussion was ongoing, and had grown rather heated. So she made her way downstairs instead. The ladder was creaky and the room was pitch black. There were no windows here, and as far as she could tell, no lamps to light. Despite this, she wanted to know what was down here, so with one hand to the wall she started fumbling about the room. After a moment, her hand struck something hard and metal against the wall, and suddenly the room was illuminated by a series of shaded lamps, neon signs, and Christmas lights strung about. The room was unlike anything she had ever seen. Unlike the upper levels, there were only two rooms down here. The side room was undoubtedly another bathroom, while the main room was... Aurelia didn't know the right word for it. Every inch of the basement was covered in games and entertainment equipment. However, since she had never seen them before, she was unsure what to think of the foosball table complete with little painted men or the billiards table all massive and impressive with dark stained wood. She pulled darts from a board hanging on the wall and wondered about the numbers written around the board. Another larger television was mounted against one wall and several large chairs and a couch were oriented facing it. Beside the television were child-sized speakers; atop one was a VCR and atop the other was a record player. A strange wooden case filled with tapes occupied one corner of the room. Aurelia scanned some of the writing quickly, reading names like, "Dial M for Murder", "Seven Samurai", "Star Trek, the Original Series", and "Roman Holiday". Two machines, similar to "TETRIS" from the sitting room, were lined against a side wall. Finally the entire back wall of the room was taken up by an enormous mahogany bar, complete with stools, sink, a refrigerator, and more bottles of liquor than Aurelia had ever seen in her life, and they had quiet a wine collection back home. Altogether, She didn't know what to think of the place, only that it was both confusing and amazing at the same time.
 
From above, she heard the unmistakable scraping sounds of chairs pushing back from a table. Quickly, she bolted back to the light switch and hit the metal three or four times before the switch flipped down, plunging the room into darkness. Then she climbed the stairs, darted across the room, and sat back on the couch beside her suitcase just as the kitchen door was opening. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, trying to look like she hadn't moved since they left her there almost an hour ago. Both men looked weary from their talk and neither seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Despite this, the kindly ministry worker gave Aurelia the awful smile again.
 
"Hey Aurelia, I'd like you to meet your Uncle Blake." he said softly.
 
The younger man lifted his hand in a brief wave, "Hey kid. Nice to meet you." Aurelia noted that he didn't look nearly as young as before. Anxiety added years to his face.
 
Aurelia nodded and gave them both a fake smile that would have been convincing if you had never seen anyone smile before.
 
"Do you like Uncle Blake's house?" the ministry man inquired. "Isn't it nice here?"
 
Aurelia looked around and shrugged, then nodded. She could tell he wanted her to nod so this was probably the fastest route through this conversation.
 
"How would you like to stay with him for a little while? Wouldn't that be fun?"
 
It was obvious that what she actually wanted wasn't of any consequence here. What she wanted was to be back home. She wanted to grab her radio and lie in the field, surrounded by a forest of tall grass. She wanted to listen to the wind and the grass and the Beatles on station 98.4. She wanted to swim in the lake like she used to. Like how she did last week. Not even last week, only three days ago... It felt like so long ago... Aurelia shrugged, then nodded again.
 
"Wonderful. I've got you other suitcase here," he patted it protectively, "and I'll be sending some of your things your way if we find anything you'll be needing." He checked his pocket watch, a small silver device with many moons and several hands. "I'm afraid I'm late for another appointment. Can I get you anything before I take my leave?" He looked between Aurelia and Uncle Blake.
 
Aurelia shook her head.
 
"Well, then I'll be off. Good day, Mr. Reid. Goodbye Aurelia. I expect I'll see you again very soon." He stepped out the door and he was gone.
 
As soon as he left, another silence set in about Aurelia. It was dark, and brooding, and lost. It was felt by Blake too, made even more obvious as he looked about the room for anything to stare at besides Aurelia. He finally let out a sigh.
 
"Sooooo..." he began, then paused, not knowing how to continue.
 
Aurelia looked up at him, still sitting hands folded on the couch, her luggage beside her.
 
"...What are you into?"
 
Aurelia shrugged and looked away.
 
"Do you like games? I've got tons of games."
 
Shrug.
 
He paused again.
 
"Are... are you hungry?"
 
She shrugged again, then slowly nodded.
 
"How about I get us some Chinese food. I bet you've never had that before, right? I know a great takeout place not too far from here."
 
Aurelia shrugged, but there was a slight change in her face, an intelligent glint in her eye, a spark of curiosity that peeked through everything else.
 
"Tell you what, I'm going to put on the TV for you, and I'll go grab us some lunch. Then we can get to know one another."
 
As Blake moved towards the glowing box, Aurelia's eyes grew wide and slightly frightened. Blake stopped and reconsidered. "Actually, come down to the basement, I'll put it on the big screen."
 
Sitting cross legged in the middle of the large couch, Aurelia was dwarfed by everything in the room. Blake came back from the cabinet full of tapes and flipped switches on the television and the VCR. A light buzzing filled the air as the television sprang to life. Blake inserted a tape and pressed the "play button". As he was heading out, Aurelie was transfixed by the opening credits to something called "The Jungle Book". She was so enthralled by the magical device that she did not notice when Blake left, nor when he returned 40 minutes later. She jumped when he sat on one of the chairs near the couch.
 
"Here, it's called Orange Chicken. best stuff you've ever tasted, trust me." He passed her a Styrofoam container filled with hot, sticky, sweet smelling chicken accompanied by noodles and vegetables. "Do you know how to use chop sticks?"
 
Aurelia looked at the thin pieces of wood he was holding in his hand, then shook her head. She took them anyways and tried, and failed, to copy how he was moving them.
 
"Lame. You can learn later I guess. Here's a fork."
 
They ate in silence and watched to the end of the movie. It was a good movie, and a better distraction, but it didn't keep everything from weighing on Aurelia's mind. As the ending credits rolled, Blake looked at the clock on the wall and jumped up.
 
"Hey kid, I gotta go. I got a hot date in half an hour, you get it." He almost ran to the stairs. "Feel free to put something else on or help yourself to stuff. There's soda and juice and beer in the fridge. Don't spill on the couch."
 
As he turned he had one step on the stairs before he heard her speak for the first time.
 
"Uncle Blake?"
 
He paused, then turned back, "Yeah kid?"
 
"How do I use this?" She pointed at the TV.
 
"Oh, just push eject to take the tape out. Put one in. Push play. You'll figure it out."
 
She nodded and he turned to leave. "Uncle Blake?"
 
He turned back again. "Yeah kid?"
 
"I'm not supposed to drink beer."
 
He looked surprised, as if he hadn't considered that. "Oh, right. Okay don't drink the beer."
 
She nodded and he tried to leave again. "Uncle Blake?"
 
"Yeah?"
 
"I like Orange Chicken."
 
He smiled. "Okay. That's good." He turned.
 
"Uncle Blake?"
 
He let out a sigh. "Yeah kid?"
 
There was a much longer pause this time. "How long am I going to be staying here?"
 
The question caught Blake off guard. "I... I don't know, kid."
 
Aurelia nodded. "Uncle Blake?"
 
He groaned and looked at the clock. "Yeah kid?"
 
"Did... What they told me about my parents... Is it true? Everything that happened?" She didn't look up at him. Her voice was quiet and small, but it cut through the room like a knife through velvet.
 
Uncle Blake swallowed hard. "I... don't know... I think so."
 
"Will I ever seen them again?"
 
"I... I don't think so..."
 
Aurelia nodded and was silent for a long minute. Blake waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, he turned to leave again.
 
"Uncle Blake?"
 
He turned to see her looking at him this time. He met her eyes, they were the same silvery-blue as his own. Though he expected to find tears or sadness, he only saw exhaustion lingering there. "Yeah kid?"
 
She paused. "You don't want me here... do you?"
 
Aurelia waited. After a moment Blake murmured, "...well I..."
 
"It's okay," she cut him off. "I don't want to be here either."
 
There was a long, tense moment, silence building between them, surrounding them like the pressure on your ears as you move deeper underwater. Finally Blake spoke.
 
"I'm sorry, Kid..."
 
Then he turned and headed up the stairs and out of view.