Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The Mansion of Mock Lights -- Part I (a story)

Some say babysitting is scary.  Others insist it is joyful.  But if you are Olivia Jenkins, you understand the true horrors that dining parents and a silver lighter can do.

The night began when Mr. and Mrs. Evans decided to leave their daughter, Eliza, with a babysitter.  Olivia Jenkins from 264 Old Chesterfield Lane was 16 at the time, and this was her first babysitting job.  She was as hyper as a child on a sugar rush as she whispered excitedly to her Siamese cat, Schmoplums, who was sitting on Olivia’s vintage black leather coat and purring in response. 

“I know I’ll do well tonight.  Don’t you?”

Schmoplums just meowed and nestled deeper into the warm lining of Olivia’s jacket.

Olivia swung her chocolate locks around as she surveyed the street for house number 32.  This street was full of mansions with rich, shiny columns lining their fronts, and trimmed, green beds of grass bordering their neatly paved driveways.  Olivia spotted a steel number 32 on the white front door of a particular expensive-looking house with pure marble columns on the front porch-area.  Olivia looked reluctantly down at her gray sweats and wondered regrettably if she should’ve changed into a party dress.  Olivia made her way up to the front steps and jabbed the doorbell.

The door opened and a young woman dressed in an old-fashioned maid’s uniform welcomed Olivia in with a French accent.  She lead Olivia through a long, elegant hallway lined with professional photographs of the same gorgeous young girl.  As the maid led Olivia into an enormous dining room with a triple-tiered chandelier, an even more elegant couple appeared in the doorway.  Mrs. Evans had shiny, mahogany hair that was in the most obscure and fancy bun Olivia had ever seen.  She had an olive colored, magnificent dress that was floor-length and amazing.  Along with the dress, she wore lavender earrings and shoes, and a pale brown mink shawl and matching purse. 

The teardrops dangling from her ears sparkled like real diamonds.  They probably were, Olivia decided.  She tried to hide her drab, hideous-looking sweats as the princess six-inch lavender heals clicked across the highly-polished floor.  Mr. Evans wore a charcoal suit and a lavender and olive striped tie.  They matched perfectly. 

Olivia found her voice and mustered up enough confidence to say, “Hi, I’m Olivia Jenkins.  You look amazing, Mrs. Evans.”

Olivia turned pink with embarrassment at her stupidity as Mrs. Evans practically sung, “Oh please, daahling.  Call me Delia.  This is my brilliant spouse, Carl.”

She giggled like a teenager with her boyfriend as she straightened Mr. Evans’ tie with her olive painted fingers.

“Might I see Eliza yet, or do we have matters to discuss?”  Olivia stuttered, trying to seem mature.

At this question, Delia and Carl’s childish, devious grins melted into serious grimaces, Delia’s bright pink lipstick turning practically to gray.

“We may spoil our daughter violently, but these next words are not for this reason.  Do not, no matter what, let her go to sleep by herself.  She has an issue that involves it.  Eliza must be under adult supervision at all times.  Also, would you like to borrow something to wear?  If you wear that, you won’t hear the end of it from Eliza.”

“Oh, thanks,” Olivia mumbled shyly, now so embarrassed her ears were crimson.

“Carl, go collect something from my closet on the right side, while I discuss more with Miss Olivia here,” Delia chirped, now back to her platinum grin and harmonic voice again. 

“Mindy and Ludwig will be accompanying you tonight, so it shouldn’t be impossible to have at least one adult eye on Eliza at all times.”

As Delia spoke, the French maid from earlier and an official-looking butler with a bald spot came into the room.  Olivia was slightly frustrated that Delia didn’t trust her to do the job of watching a harmless child alone, but immediately regretted it as soon as Mindy under her casual ponytail and started using bobby pins from her lacy apron to pin up her hair almost as gracefully as Delia’s.  Carl finally came down the stairs with a sunny-yellow dress that was made of satin and chiffon, covered in sparkles, and was probably more expensive than anything Olivia owned.

After Olivia had changed, Carl notified her that dinner for the four of them was on the table.  Olivia exchanged phone numbers and finally, Eliza was summoned.

Eiza came downstairs in a plum colored dress with a matching bow in her curly, blond hair, which was down.

Olivia and Mr. Evans, along with Mindy the maid and Ludwig the butler, made light conversation until it was time to go. 

As Delia and Carl said goodbye to their 7-year-old daughter, Olivia noticed Schmoplums snuggling with an identical Siamese cat.

“That’s Archibald,” Ludwig whispered to her.  Olivia watched to the car pull away from the long driveway and then checked her watch. 


Little did she know her night had just begun.


J  :)  Holly Day, Wrapping Industry

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