What Keeps Our Hearts Beating

Chapter 7

It was eerily quiet in the ballroom. If Lacey wasn't dressed in her ugly gray uniform, she would have guessed she had been transported back in time to a beautiful ball. The elegant crystal chandelier in the epicenter of the room sparkled majestically as if awaiting her presence and the grand piano in the corner, though dusty and covered in an old red blanket, her ears she could almost hear the beautiful melody of a Tchaikovsky waltz. The beautiful pine wood floors beckoned to her to dance on them, like her little feet danced across with her mother and father in a circular dance amidst cheers and applause from friends and family. That girl with her smile and hopeful eyes was a ghost from her past. Nothing more.

Dr. Snore's obnoxious grunt broke her from her momentary stupor and she snapped out of her daydream and walked across the threshold.

"5 minutes late, Miss Ainsbrough," he sneered, raising his gray eyebrow in disgust tapping on some old fashioned brown leather watch on his hairy arm.

"I'm sorry," she lied, sliding into her usual desk at the front. "I got held up about a math assignment."

More like a kissing assignment gone drastically wrong.

He pointed to the grandfather clock in the corner with the pendulum swinging back and forth. It was beside the fireplace with the Tiffany glass and red bricks that lined its exterior. There was no fire though it felt extremely cold and drafty in that room for late October. Along with disgusting food, this school couldn't afford heat? Wait till she got a hold of her father...if he ever called her back.

Dr. Snore threatened some nonsense about being idle during this detention and Lacey leaned back in her chair staring at the hypnotic back and forth motion of the pendulum. Tick Tock, Tick Tock... like seconds of her life wasting away with Dr. Snore already snoring loudly, having fallen asleep like I n mid-sentence with her. Did the guy have epilepsy or something? Where did they find these professors? It was like they got the crème de la crème of the old and senile, or in Miss Halloway's case, the too young to ask questions tribe of educators. He looked raggedly tired as he slept, as if this was as much an inconvenience to his beauty rest as it was for her.

She peeked toward the doorway but there weren't any guards stationed outside her door, probably because there was a teacher on duty. Too aggravated to sit and do homework, she got up and tip toed over to the grand piano, her feet doing a piruette and sashe like she used to do sliding across this slippery floor. She quickly whirled around to make sure Dr. Snore hadn't awoken from his slumber, but he looked like he was out cold. She tip toed over to the grand piano and slowly slid the blanket back over the keys, the dust rifling her nose and nearly causing her to sneeze. She held it in thankfully, rubbing her nose and her eyes glazed over the black and white keys of the beautiful instrument. Her fingers slid over the keys without pressing down, the melody Fur Elise that her mother had taught her when they spent the summers here together. Her mother's laughter filled her ears with longing and this place felt like an even worse torture than being holed up in the city penthouse for the past year. Too many memories....beautiful memories.

And then there was a flicker of an image that flashed in her mind. Maybe from the scent of the piano it had resurfaced from the confines in the far reaches of her memory. The lion foot. Her mother pressing on the lion's foot.

Lacey jerked her head up and there, guarding the two posts on the fireplace mantle, were two lions.

She slowly slid the red blanket back over the instrument to cover up any indication she had risen from her seat during detention and slowly found the strength to walk over to the lion statue, its mouth open in a roar with its sharp teeth carved with sharp tenacity. Its paw stretched outward, goading her to touch it. To investigate what that memory meant. That she wasn't crazy. That there was something behind that fireplace wall. That her mother's secret library did exist. The ballroom was near the left wing. If there was a staircase behind it...

She glanced once more at Dr. Snore whose head was leaned back in the chair, his mouth open in mid-snore, like those lions faces. She dared herself to do it. What was she waiting for?

Her finger tapped onto the lions paw and waited. Nothing happened.

Crestfallen she took a breath but then spotted the lion on the right hand side of the mantle.

She couldn't go back now. She had already opened Pandora's Box. Now it was time to find out what truly lay inside. She pressed down on that lion's paw, the one a little darker perhaps from more fingerprints and sweat. She couldn't breathe, holding her breath, waiting in hopeful anticipation as the back of the fireplace slid open revealing a secret passage. Her heart was doing summersaults in her chest and before she could stop herself she grabbed one of the lit lanterns off of Dr. Snore's desk and leaned down to fit through the narrow opening of the fireplace. As soon as she walked through it closed shut behind her producing a high pitched squeak but thankfully not enough to wake Dr. Snore. She looked up to behold a staircase with the gold banister. It was exactly how she had remembered it from her dream. The one she would slide down and her mother would catch her at the bottom. She raced up the steps, knowing her time was limited. Who knew when Dr. Snore would awaken and find her missing from detention? Or when a guard would notice she wasn't in her room past curfew. But at this moment all she cared about was the library. It had to be at the top. She knew it!

The lone lantern illuminated enough of the narrow dank corridor for her to reach the top without falling down the narrow enclosure, like some makeshift elevator shaft that had been abandoned and transformed into a servants quarter staircase, or more so a prohibition era. She reached the top catching her breath, and turned the brass knob that creaked and opened into a beautiful menagerie of books. Her mouth gaped open as meeting her gaze was the blue bird glass stained window. The blue bird of happiness. For the first time in a long time as she beheld this magnificent enclave of stacks and rows of books before her eyes, she felt happy.

Just then she heard the floorboards creak above her head and she found herself jumping behind one of the shelves as she realized that though she was alone in this enclave, there was someone above her. And if she was in the north wing she had a pretty good idea who it was. She hoped the lunatic arsonist hadn't heard her walking beneath him. The footsteps stopped and Lacey continued to explore this beautiful room. Book titles jumped out at her. Jane Eyre, The Thorn Birds, Gone with the Wind. There was so many and they were hers. This was her mother's wish for her. That's why she had hidden it. That's why there was no mention of it in the manor house map. If it was discovered it would be destroyed. She felt such loyalty to these things, these secret doors into the unknown. A way to escape.

Her joy was fleeting as the sound of a trap door opening above her head caused her to jump back into one of the bookcases, nearly knocking it over. She crept down and quickly extinguished the light from her lantern. From the sliver of light cast from the stained glass she could make out a long rope dangling down from the floor above and to her horror a shadowy figure slid down the rope landing about ten feet from where she hid crouched down behind one of the shelves. It was as if he sensed she was there and slowly was creeping along the perimeter. She felt her heart beating like it would explode out of her chest as she was contemplating her escape. She couldn't climb the rope. The only option was to make a run for the bronze door and hope she could lock it from behind her so he couldn't follow her down the golden staircase. He was nearly upon her and she picked up one of the largest books she could find. The Bible. She held it ready to strike as the shadow loomed over her. She struck at the shadow as hard as she could muster and caused him to fall backwards. She jumped over the arsonist's long body and raced toward the bronze door. She heard him getting up and chasing her. She had to get to the door, her life depended on it.

And then out of nowhere there was a high pitched whistle and something flew out at her in the shadows. She shrieked as she ducked to avoid making contact by the flying demon that disoriented her. She tripped, her hands reaching out to something –anything - to catch her fall but the shadowy male figure just stood over her watching as she plummeted backwards, banging her head against the floor, fearing that boy would be the last thing she ever saw.