Waking In The South

Chapter 5

The butler, who I came to know as Jonathan, ushered me into a foyer adorned with glossy mahogany paneling. Beaming above me is a crystal chandelier, which only proves the Professor's prominence. The inside space has all the characterizations of a center hall colonial - a room to the right, and a room to the left. But, his home looks deceptively larger than I'd expected from the outside. Unlike the exterior, the interior must have been renovated some time ago.

My stomach butterflies soon drift away as Jonathan leads me to the reading room off to the right of the foyer.

"Won't you have a seat." The butler motions towards a leather couch. "Professor Ainsworth should be with you shortly." His slender frame carefully glides away from me, graceful as he is tall. With that, he disappeared out of the room.

Now, all there is to do is wait. I could read this book on the coffee table, but to be honest, I rather not.

The sun shines through the bay window, making it easy to see the dusty air float by.

It seems no one has sat in this room for quite a while. The Professor must not get many visitors. That, or this isn't his permanent residence.

I stare outside and catch a ray in my face. Feeling it's warmth, I close my eyes and soak it in. I haven't been relaxed all day, so I bask in this moment before a voice echoes throughout the home.

It's throaty and resonating, definitely a man's voice. I'm guessing upper twenties or lower thirties.

I can't distinguish the words, but I can tell it's coming from down the hall. Standing, I try to get a better listen. My ears perk up and I hear the deep voice again, startling me this time.

It's threatening tone isn't one to be messed with. I can tell he means business.

The Professor responds to the stranger in a hushed tone, and I'm able to overhear just enough as I inch closer to the hallway, "Please, I won't say a word. Just go, your intimidation will not work here. You can tell Amril that."

I take a few steps back and try not to listen to the rest.

This isn't any of my business, but I can't help my nosey instincts. I want to know who's in that room with Professor Ainsworth. After all, he did mention he would be receiving a guest.

Still interested in the conversation, I can hear something roll across the hardwood and clash into a wall. It rebounds and I can feel the vibration on the soles of my feet. I scrunch my toes in response to the tickle.

That must be one heavy office chair, or that man is superhuman. I almost feel like I should help the Professor, but I'm not sure who I will encounter in that room. I could creep in with a lamp and bop the stranger over the head, or I could take this glass vase. Hmm.

Debating whether I have the courage or not, I stare at the pristine vase waiting for my brain to make a decision.

Before I can act, the ruckus starts up again. Like a bat hitting a ball, a loud snap of wood cracks throughout the apartment.

He's dead, he's dead. The Professor is dead!

The man starts up again, "Listen to me Professor Ainsworth. You will not." He pauses to raise his voice into a roar. "WILL NOT, divulge any information regarding this matter with any soul." He clears his throat from the strain.

I gulp at the stranger's silence, I want to sit down, but my legs move me closer into the hall and out of the sunlight. Once the Professor responds, I stop in my tracks and slow my breathing.

"Yes. There will be no word. Our fates will be set soon enough, even though the SHS doesn't know you're here." His cracking voice reveals his nervous energy.