The Markus Party

CHAPTER 18, THE PAINTING

It was the noisiest lunch so far. Their excitement over the dance unending. They were back in their normal clothes, feeling less special by the minute. The gorgeous outfits, the beauty of movement felt like a strange fever dream they couldn't stop talking about. Some people had fallen, others were bruised all over, and others didn't remember a single thing. So the discussion lingered on the best dancers.

Louis was at the top, but he didn't count since he wasn't one of them. Ian and Jasmine were the best dancing couple. Although they were often whizzing past everyone nearly dancing themselves silly. Theirs becoming more of an exercise than a dance. Patrick had fallen the most, but surprisingly was among the top dancers for excessive enthusiasm. Janet thought she'd slip into a coma from all the excitement. Baldwin didn't look the part at all, like a gorilla ice skating. He stomped around looking confused and defensive. Dass occasionally stole the show by adding exaggerated Spanish chants to their twirls and twists. Merissa was beyond giddy, fawning over him even though they barely learnt the dance. Richard, and the rest of Baldwin's group tried to ignore not coming up in the list. 'It was still fun.' Richard had murmured when a girl ranked him as the thirty eighth. With the first being Peter who completely mastered the dance. A great feat considering he mostly watched it.

The conversation moved to the most attractive ranking, involving a lot of shouting and pointing. Far too lively for Erick who wound up sending them to work long before lunch break ended. They filled the halls with their insistent jabber, as Erick saw it, until they soon fell into the work.

Peter's group had participated in the talk. Peter even bowing repeatedly, making them soon see it fit to ignore him. Lucy pouting and laughing when they called her out for being among the worst dancers. Jasmine giving them the mild curiosity she was known for. Accepting that she did well and she will always do well. Ian happily went over some of the steps with the girls who crowded around him. Seeking his attention while masking it as a need for extra guidance. He was worried this would go on all day. They all acted the part required of them but they were in strange state that all four noticed, but couldn't quite say.

Peter thought he would be the only one to be so...shook. How could he explain dancing with a ghost for five hours? But if he wasn't the only one acting odd, what were the others hiding? Maybe I should find out but...I can't...I...he sighed. It's too much for one day. He hadn't felt genuine fear in a long time like he did when he took that girls hands to dance. To think they had the power to make him see things, make everyone see things. Peter knew now that it would be keeping their sanity that was most important. They just couldn't trust anything they saw. So instead of confronting his friends, he walked slowly towards his working area to give himself a chance to think clearly about his next move.

The house, the family, were connected to him. He was worried it was a past secret his father was involved with. There were numerous discussion he had with his father growing up about a major secret he'd kept. One that could change Peter's life forever, but he never said it. He did write it is a book though, one Peter, feeling so foolish about it now, never read. Saving those pages for when the pain of his father's passing was less...real.

Then he laughed slightly as he walked, realizing that a connection with the Markus family was his dream before getting here. When he sprawled over images of the castle on the Internet and looked at the list of invited guests he was so impressed. Now...

He got to his new work area and stared angrily from the door. It was another large dining room with upstairs seating areas and an outside garden. According to Louis he had to work the whole place alone. Well...with Baldwin as punishment. But the bigger guy had disappeared.

"Clever Baldwin, leaving me to do all the work!" Peter growled, sighed, and walked in. He could already see himself spending the rest of the day here. With a bucket of water and an apron around his waist he started his work. Cleaning the floors, then the tables; sweeping where the garden had grown into the house, and dusting out the carpets in the upper rooms overlooking the hall. It is here that he finally sat down. Now that he was so close to finishing, he could rest a little. He was far too tired to even think. His whole body just felt rigid. Baldwin was still a no show. Where was he anyway? Besides, it was already getting dark outside so he'd show up around now to pretend he was working all along.