Isabelle

Curiosity. II

Listening to the maids conversations was something Isabelle did for a long time. Their gossips could be quite entertaining sometimes, and their reactions to certain topics.
She was on her way to the garden when she heard Clara's voice

"No! No! No! It's a poodle"
She stopped in her tracks wondering what they might be arguing about,

"Come on girl I grew up on a farm and I know those animals pretty well, that's not a poodle" Said Candice folding some sheets of clothe.
"OK, Miss Igrewuponafarm, now tell me what this is". Clara pointed to a magazine.

"I don't know what breed of dog it is but I know it is not a poodle. I know what a poodle looks like"

"You don't know what it is and you are arguing with me on if it's a poodle or not." Clara closed the magazine and folded her arms.

"Stop being silly besides I've spoken to her about it" Candice brought up conversation with Isabelle, it was their plan after all to ask.

"And what did she say?" Clara's fake angry face turned to a concerned one, deep down she hoped Isabelle would say yes.

"The kid doesn't agree to it". Candice placed the last sheet in the laundry basket.

"What a shame" Clara sighed. "All our ideas gone down the drain ". She stopped for a moment. "Or has it?" She put on a smile which crept out Candice.

"We could use our ideas for your birthday instead, since Isabelle doesn't want anything. Our ideas didn't totally go down the drain".

Candice nodded, approving of it.

Isabelle has had enough of the chit chat and decided to go for a stroll in the garden with her favorite book in her hand 'He laid beneath the grave' she had flipped over numerous pages countless times. She read the book over and over again and you could tell by the lines that was at the middle of every page indicating that it had been folded.

Isabelle saw the garden as a quiet place where no disrupting human could get rid of. She admired the Tulips, the Red Roses, Purple hibiscus and Sun flowers that stood proudly basking under the sun light. They also had a few trees in the garden. A pine tree, weeping Willow, oak trees and horse chest nut trees.
A few chestnuts had fallen to the ground, she picked some and saw a part of it was rotten.

"A representation of the rotten people in the world we live in"
She thought and dropped the chest nuts.

Isabelle found cool shade beneath the weeping willow, she sat on its stem and flipped a page.

"At night the creatures of the dark crept into the graveyard and sat in a circular form around a grave. They spoke in a language only they could understand but no human could. The full moon, as if finally embracing its true nature stood out proudly in the sky and from where they were they saw its light and began to chant. They were performing a ritual and beneath the grave, they encircled there he laid."

The crushing of dried leaves interrupted Isabelle's reading. She looked up and saw no one.

"Probably Noel again, her obsession with the rose bush is something else." She flipped another page.

'He was the answer they were looking for, he was the one they seek. They have awoken the dead. According to the prophecy, there would be a person who would let the night rule the day, let the darkness avenge the light, let fear feed on every soul that gazed upon it and let happiness seize to exist. And His name is Elkaneus."

Isabelle lips curved upwards into a small smile because the story was getting better and better.
"Who knew the creatures of the dark had their own specific language" thought Isabelle.
Yet another leaf was crushed, lightly but was still audible. She averted her eyes to the oak tree in front of her.

"Mrs. Noel? Are you there?"

The ever so brown and tall tree whose branches held out so many acorns. She sometimes referred to the tree as "The giver tree" because its branches looked as if it were giving out its Acorns.

"To the needy or poor that gazed upon, the tree shall give as long as it lives" Mother always said.

She folded the page she was reading, closed her book and stood up from the stem of the weeping willow.

Not hearing any voice or noise except the leaves that were crushed a few minutes ago.

She slowly walked towards the tree expecting anything.
She looked behind it and saw no one but heaps of dried leaves.

"No one's here, so you mean to say these leaves were crushing themselves?" Isabelle asked herself and felt a bit silly after doing so.

"Must be hearing things. And why so many dried leaves?" She asked again. "Let me guess, the only reason Mrs. Noel comes to the garden is to spend her time drooling over those rose bushes, leaving this leaves unattended to? And a butler whose job is to make sure no one slacks on....oh well"

Isabelle shook her head and headed on to the shack where the gardening tools were kept. Having the intention of asking Clara to rake the leave, she decided to do it herself.

With a rake in her hand she headed back to the garden and began raking the leaves.
Having raked a few, she began using the back of her hand to dab the sweat that were already forming.

"Who knew raking would be a lot of work".

While raking she hummed a song, after pushing the last dried leaf aside with the plastic rake. A real rake was much heavier.

What was left underneath was sand that slightly covered a brown object, wanting to know what it was she used her hands to push it aside hastily.

The brown object whose identity was concealed away by the shriveled leaves and sand revealed its identity to be a wooden door.

"If you plant a seed and nurture it, it would grow into something much more than a seed." Ronnie, just finished having a meeting and the meeting made her think.

"It wouldn't hurt if a child committed suicide would it?" She let out a laugh while making her way into the kitchen.

"Planting a small seed of suicide in her little mind, a spice of fear and pinch of pain would definitely grow into something bigger" She grabbed a cup and placed it on the counter.

"Death. Death would make my access much easier. All I have to do is to get my hands on the will first and according to my all so reliable memory its file 3324817, on the extreme left end of the third shelve." She poured herself a drink.

"Smart Ronnie." Praising herself she picked up her phone to call her sister.

"Hey beloved sister, how are you?" Ronnie said with a fake concerned voice which she had been practicing for quite some time.

"I'm fine thank you. Chris's dog got hit by a car I'm on my way to the vet right now".

"O my, poor dog I hope its ok?" She said 'or not' she thought. "Could you perhaps send the address of the party venue" She quickly added.

"Oh yes, umm after I get back from the vet I'll do that. Chris is devastated".

"Poor Chris. Not to take any more of your time, bye now." She hung up, using her finger tips she twirled the drink which looked pink in color. "The dog is already too old, it living isn't much of a benefit is it"

"Now all I need is a spy, not those ninnies but an Informant from the inside"
She placed the cup on her lip.

"I'll text Gregoria instead, she knows what to do"