Chapter 16: 16 – Amerie

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The scent of the flower filtered up into Amerie’s sinuses. It smelled... familiar, somehow? Automatically, she took another breath, trying to figure it out.

Her grandmother’s garden. It smelled exactly like her grandmother’s herb garden, a gentle mix of marigolds along the borders, thyme and lavender, oregano and lemon balm, and others that a young Amerie had learned to name while helping with planting and tending them.

Young Amerie felt absolutely safe. Her beloved grandmother was here, always watching what she was doing and ready to encourage or gently correct. Her parents would be back to get her as soon as they returned from their business trip in support of their boutique shop downtown. When they went inside, she’d be free to stuff herself on her grandmother’s delicious cooking, while trying to save space for ice cream, which might have to come later. Her grandmother’s small cottage had only one bed, so she’d be sleeping beside her, safe and secure even in the darkness, while the cats competed for the remaining prime space on the bed.

No one had ever hit her, in her entire life. Her experience with being afraid extended to normal childhood events like getting lost at the mall or getting an injection from a doctor, real enough at the time, but easily soothed afterwards. The world, and the people in it, were for the most part friendly with good intentions, not threatening and of uncertain temper.

She opened her eyes, realizing only then that she’d closed them, and lowered the flower. The memories faded, but the feeling remained. The nervousness that had been riding her shoulder for as long as she could recall had been unseated, and was no longer whispering in her ear. She didn’t feel intoxicated or out of control or even euphoric. Just... calm.

“What did you do?” she asked Thalia.

The green woman shrugged. “Unfortunately, nothing better than a flimsy short-term band-aid on a wound, and not even that much if you hadn’t had a relevant memory, but I think you did.” She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “The people you’re going to see in this house might look like monsters to the outside world, but we’re not heartless. All the strangeness can be scary enough without having a head start on the fear. No side effects except one: it might make you more susceptible to effects from my other friends.” She gestured broadly towards the wall of windows. “You’re probably safer if you explore elsewhere for at least an hour or so. Effects aren’t always compatible. You’re welcome to come back after that.”

“I... oh. Incompatible effects don’t sound good. I’ll go somewhere else. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad it helped. Take the flower with you, although the effects will be weaker each time. Go anywhere you like. That’s part of the rules. There’s only one section of the house that’s locked on Hallowe’en night. The rest is all open and fair game.”

Amerie nodded. “Thanks,” she repeated. Rather than risk any more time in a room with plants that might currently be bad for her, she backtracked to the games room.

How was she going to carry the flower? It wouldn’t stay in her messy walnut-brown ponytailed hair; she finally unzipped her worn hoodie, pulled down the strap of the tanktop beneath, and tucked it into one of the shoulder-strap adjustment rings on her bra. That put it close to her face, and she could still get the odd hint of its scent. She twitched her top into place as best she could and left the hoodie open. If it looked a little strange, well, she doubted that was relevant around here.

She could see a flight of stairs just across a corridor. She could keep wandering the ground floor, with its big elaborate rooms, or she could take a look upstairs and see what was up there. Ségolène had said she’d be here until sunrise, and that should be plenty of time to see absolutely everything, so either should be reasonable.

For no particular reason, she went up the stairs.

The first door she tried was locked, and so were the next two; since they clustered tightly around a corner, almost certainly sharing walls, that was probably the one section that was locked. It figured that she’d stumble across it more or less immediately. She paused to admire the plant in a blue glass pot on a small table; it looked like it was made of glass itself, the stalk and leaves green, the flowers vividly burgundy-red, but when she brushed a finger over a leaf, it trembled like it was alive. Out of caution after Thalia’s warning, she made note of it for later, and left it for now.

She continued onwards to the right, for lack of any better direction. It visibly opened up quite a lot some way ahead. Just before she reached the stairs and the whole floor changed, she passed an open door and paused to look around inside.

This was unequivocally a bedroom. The bed itself was a big old antique thing with velvet curtains around it, and she saw a large wooden chest, a vanity table, an armoire, all of matching golden wood she thought might be oak. The upholstery and bedding and curtains were all cranberry and cream with touches of navy blue, in a design she didn’t know the name of with interlaced circles. She circled the room, not disturbing anything—the book lying on a small table next to a chair drawn up to the window suggested that this room might actually belong to someone, and she was reluctant to intrude.

A mirror against one wall caught her eye. The frame wasn’t oak like the rest of the room; she thought the black metal might be iron, and if so, the huge mirror must weigh an extraordinary amount. Of greater interest was her reflection, which was waving at her to get her attention.

Amerie faced the mirror warily. Nothing about it offered any hints, since it was quite a simple doubled frame with minimal ornamentation, and there were no handy signs to announce that it was a magic mirror of friendly intentions or otherwise.

“Ah, good,” the mirror said. “We need to talk.”

“We what? Who are you? What are you?”

“Who and what do I look like? I’m you.”

“No, I’m me.”

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“Barely, and less so all the time.”

“More than you! You’re just my reflection.”

“No, I’m the other part of you, the part that can’t normally speak up and just tell you when you’re letting optimism win over observation and experience. Or, conversely, tell you when you’re being too hard on yourself and can’t see the truth. I’m always there and always trying, but it just gets harder all the time to get through to you. I’m not passing up a chance to actually tell you straight out, even if it’s this crazy house letting me do it.”

“But you...” Amerie took a deep breath, and thought back. Moments when she’d found her own hand hesitating before she called a boyfriend, potential or recent. Moments she’d planned on grabbing the first low-effort clothing that came to hand, and instead found herself choosing something that made her feel just a bit good about herself. Moments when, exhausted and depressed, she’d gone through the motions of housework and cooking on automatic, only to have the results turn out good enough to keep her out of trouble. Unexpected moments of peace when some small thing just gave her a feeling of hope and rightness, even if it was just a sunrise, a hot bath with a cup of tea that had come out perfectly, the happy purr of a neighbour’s cat.

“Okay,” Amerie said. “Maybe you can exist. In some sense. I don’t think I have another whole personality in my head or anything, but maybe you’re my superego or something psychological like that, so why not? Anything can happen in this house, I think.”

“Cool. That was easier than I really expected. Sure, we can go with superego if you want, it doesn’t really matter that much about the terminology.”

“So? You started this conversation.”

“Yeah, I did. Look, you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. I know you want to find a guy who’s strong and confident and assertive. I know you’re always happier when you can let someone else make most of the decisions while you do things to make them happy. That bitch who told you that you were a disgrace to women’s rights doesn’t get the concept of being free to choose what’s best for you, and I know that unlike her, you actually want everyone free to choose the best path for them. But for the love of god, girl, there is a huge gap between what you’re looking for and the emotionally and sometimes physically abusive trash you keep hooking up with. Stop taking whatever guy shows an interest in you just because he does, and hold out for someone who will actually value you as you are. Is being alone that much worse than being scared to be in his reach in late October, and being cold and hungry is worth it to be out of the apartment?”

“No,” Amerie said quietly. “Being alone isn’t worse, but jobs aren’t always available, especially with only a high school education, and having a place to live is helpful.”

“If you’re gonna prostitute yourself, then dress nicer and get paid better. Honestly, you’re smart, you’re pretty, you can be charming when you aren’t feeling like fresh fertilizer. Not all well-off guys want twenty-year-old Barbie dolls. Or look at student loans and go back to school so you can get a decent job. You already know all of this. You’re just drowning in all the put-downs, all the ways of them telling you that you’re stupid, unattractive, clumsy, lazy, don’t deserve respect or happiness or a voice, usually without ever straight-out saying it. You might not notice each one, but they build up, and trust me, I definitely notice them, every last time.” Her reflection shrugged off her hoodie and tossed it on the chair by the window, straightened her tanktop and the flower, and stripped the elastic from her hair. As she ran her hands through it, the lank tendrils grew shinier and fuller. “That’s just clean and cared for properly,” her reflection said, and posed with her weight all on one hip, hands spread, hair falling forward over the shoulder without the flower. When she smiled, she genuinely looked happy.

“That’s... yeah, kinda pretty,” Amerie conceded.

“See? I bet there’s somewhere in this madhouse you could get something to wear that’ll make you feel better. Just to remind you, even once that flower wears off, that you’re a lot more than those jerks have wanted you to be. If they could keep you feeling small, they could keep you under control, y’know?” Her reflection’s forehead furrowed. “I don’t think the relationship advice is going to be all that useful to you at this point, but I wanted to make sure you heard it. Getting through tonight is more urgent, because you’re apparently stuck here until sunrise. You could find a place to hide or take Tarragon up on that comfy bench, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t be the best idea. Her Ladyship and Thalia both wanted you to not be at a disadvantage, so I think there might be a good reason to actually skip the hiding and get involved.”

“What kind of reason?”

Her reflection shrugged and spread her hands again. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t have any info that you don’t. I just notice details you might let pass. But c’mon, good meal to counter being cold and hungry and tired, magic flower to counter fear, the cook who looks like a demon brought up experiencing as much as possible, and there’s always emphasis on it being safe. So I think you should probably do your best to shove all the caution and junk off to the side and live in the moment as much as you can. Y’know, like you used to before the abusive assholes became part of your life.”

Amerie thought about that soberly. It was easier to do, thanks to the flower, and the meal was probably the reason she felt like she had more energy and clarity than she had in ages.

“You might have a point. There’s probably nothing to lose. It would be a really long night, with nothing to do. And I still haven’t ruled out dreaming, although I’m getting there.”

“You aren’t dreaming. But anyway. I’m pretty much out of things to say for the moment. I told you all the stuff that I really needed to tell you. So it’s probably time to get moving and keep exploring. Considering what you’ve seen already, you might come across anything, so be prepared for that, eh?”

“Right. And, um, thanks. For everything.”

Her reflection smiled. “We’re in this together.”

“Hey, do you think everyone here is telling the truth? About no one hurting me?”

“You’ve got a damned sophisticated lie detector, even if you usually ignore it, and I’m not seeing anything to suggest that they’re lying and fattening you up for slaughter. Best I can do is, all signs point to yes.” With a laugh, her reflection waved... and then changed into a normal reflection.

Smiling to herself, an expression that felt unfamiliar lately, Amerie left the room to continue exploring.

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