Sabbath's 2 Darlings- The 12: Book Two

13. Fear in Power

Idris stood on the porch looking up at the littered spider webs in the corners twirling in the breeze. He knocked on the door using the brass knocker then stood back and looked around the porch. The house looked almost abandoned but there also seemed to be a touch of life in it.

After not getting an answer he went over and knocked on one of the windows. "Hello, Mr. Heritage?" He waited. "It's Idris St. Cloud, I just came up to see how you were doing. Mr. Heritage?" A stiff breeze blew over the house making the porch swing creak. "Mr. Heritage I...I was hoping I could talk to you," he said through the door. "It's about Isaac Richmond."

Idris sighed. Perhaps Mr. Dale had told him wrong. He turned away from the door ready to get out of his Sunday clothes and into something more comfortable. He had just gone down the first step when he heard a click and a creak behind him. When he turned around he saw the front door shift in the breeze. He hurried back onto the porch and stood before the slightly ajar door.

"Hello? Mr. Heritage?" he pushed the door open further letting in the Sunday light across the floor. Dust danced in retreat into the corners as the wind tinkered the prisms in the chandelier. "Hello." As he stood in the room surrounded by empty walls and covered furniture a faint sound reached his ears. At first he thought it was the wind but then the tune became familiar to him.

Rondo Alla Turca floated down the winding staircase and across the dust laden floors and moth eaten curtains. Idris followed the sound of the music up the stairs and down a lonely hall surrounded on both sides by landscape painting that looked bright and new compared to most of the dusty house. He passed two rooms with doors ajar where velvet furniture and dark curtains watched him as an intruder.

He paused for moment when he noticed the break of light in the hall floor and on the opposite wall. He approached slowly as the sonata surrounded him in the corridor. He stopped at the threshold and his eyes drifted to the figure at the piano with his back to him.

The music ended and the pianist turned his head slightly. "I do not recognize your name."

"I'm sorry."

"Your name, I do not recognize it. Your family is not from these parts."

"Oh...well no..." Idris paused. He was surprised to be looking at such a young man. "I'm Idris St. Cloud."

"And you've come to talk to me about Isaac Richmond," Mr. Heritage said. "I heard you out there on my porch." He turned a page in the music book. "It's been many years since anyone has even bothered."

Idris stepped further into the room. "How long have you been up here?" he asked.

"I've lost track of time," Mr. Heritage said. "One year bleeds into the next..." His pale blue eyes followed Idris across the room. "I don't mind it much anymore like I did at fist."

Idris paused in the open window catching a breeze. "I can see you've made it quite lovely up here," he said folding his hands behind his back. "You can see straight out over the cotton field."

Heritage scoffed. "I never look beyond my copse."

Idris looked over his shoulder. For a recluse the young man was spotless. True his clothes were a little outdated but he was spotless just like this room compared to the rest of the house. "Mr. Heritage...the reason I came—"

"Please, call me Granville," Heritage said. "Hearing Mr. Heritage makes me think my father will walk through that door. Please have a seat, unless you prefer that is to remain standing."