Henri left me to wait for the guests on the lit front porch, with its shiny marble and elegant steps. I looked over the clipboard and read through the names. Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty, from New York; the Smiths, from Boston; the Gopals from California. The list went on. Guests were coming in from all over the country to get a glimpse of Darkwood. I was getting restless waiting alone, and there was still no sign of Sabrina.
In the distance I saw several cars pull up and people get out. The plantation had hired valets so the guests wouldn’t have to worry about parking their own cars. I wondered where the LaPlante family was, and if they would be making an appearance anytime soon. As the guests made their way down the oak tree lined path leading up to the house, it was clear they were mesmerized by the sheer beauty of both the property and the house.
A bulky couple with a chubby child in tow was the first to make their way up to the house. Their faces were sunburnt from the New Orleans heat. Their coordinated Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts made it obvious that they didn’t care if they were going to a ball.
“Hi, I’m Arelia!” I said enthusiastically as they approached me. “Welcome to Darkwood Plantation. What are your names?”
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” observed the man. His beady eyes scanned over me as he extended his sweaty palm. “I always tell the Mrs. that if she put in an effort, she wouldn’t be half as bad. We’re the Dumptys.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I faked interest.
“It sure smells good. I wonder what kind of Southern food they’re going to surprise us with,” squealed Mrs. Dumpty with excitement in her beady, blue eyes.
“I’m sure whatever it is will be delicious,” I predicted. “And what is your name?” I asked the chubby blond boy who appeared to be no older than ten.
“I’m Ben. I’m here to see the alligators and ghosts,” he responded in a matter of fact tone.
“Sure son, but you have to let us get a few Hurricanes in us, before we take you to see any swamps,” Mr. Dumpty reminded him.
“Please, make yourselves at home and head inside, a staff member will take you to the ballroom,” I advised them.
“Sounds excellent!” Mr. Dumpty boldly brushed by me and gave my butt a slight squeeze.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. “Have fun in there,” I shouted after him.
Next to arrive was an elderly couple from Maine. They were well-dressed and introduced themselves as the Scotts. They were in New Orleans visiting their son, who was a doctor, and thought that it might be fun to spend some time at Darkwood Plantation. After them, the Gopals arrived. They were a young couple from California and were in New Orleans for their honeymoon.
“Am I late?” Sabrina rushed to the porch surrounded by a cloud of Chanel 5.
“Finally! Where have you been? All of the guests are already inside.”
“Thanks for covering for me. I got so sweaty in this dress that I decided to take a quick bath which took way longer than expected. I mean the bathroom is to die for. Of course, then I had to re-do my makeup.” She went on to explain how two minutes had turned into almost three hours.
“Okay, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way,” I added.
“Do you think?” she asked, fishing for a compliment.
“Yes, you’re gorgeous, and you’re my best friend, but if you don’t help me tonight, I swear I will kill you,” I joked. “Some creepy guy from New York grabbed my butt.” I vividly rehashed what Mr. Dumpty had done as I guided her into the house and towards the kitchen.
“Is he hot?” Sabrina asked as exhilaration filled her blue eyes.
“Eww, no. Not even a bit.”
The kitchen was buzzing with waiters, cooks and bartenders. Pots sizzled and bubbled with red beans, creole jambalaya, seafood gumbo, and gravy. Counters were covered with brisket, grilled shrimp, flutes of champagne and colorful cocktail glasses. It smelled heavenly and gave me the urge to stuff my face with every dish until my corset exploded. The amount of food seemed endless and almost excessive, considering that it was enough for a large army rather than just a group of tourists. It was the epitome of extravagance. If this was an informal ball, I wondered what a formal ball at Darkwood would be like.
“Hurricanes are my favorite!” Sabrina eagerly eyed her surroundings to see if the coast was clear. Seeing that Ms. Mae and Henri were nowhere to be seen, she grabbed a cocktail and chugged it down.
“Sabrina!” I furiously hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Relax Arelia, we’re on vacation.” She casually grabbed another cocktail and drank it. “You don’t mind, do you?” She winked at a muscular blond waiter who was around our age.
“No, I sure don’t,” replied the waiter. “My name’s Ivan, in case you’re interested in meeting me for a drink later.” He purposely loosened his tie and undid a second button on his shirt. It was an obvious attempt to attract Sabrina’s attention.
“You are very cute, but I don’t date the help,” Sabrina snarled.
“I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.” Ivan casually threw her another wink.
“Really, maybe I will take you up on the offer.” Sabrina placed her hands on his arm and gave it a squeeze.
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said as I steered her away from the counter. “If Ms. Mae or Henri see you…”
“I don’t think your friend here likes me very much,” Ivan openly challenged me with his grey eyes. His gruff voice was filled with contempt.
“I don’t know you, why wouldn’t I like you?” I snapped back. “I’m just trying to do my job.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t worry so much and should mind your own business.” Ivan clearly was hungry for a fight, or at least an argument. For whatever reason, he had his sights set on me.
“What the hell! What’s your problem?” I didn’t do anything to this guy, and he was being a mega-jerk. Obviously, he had issues.
“Is everything alright in here, girls?” Ms. Mae interrupted our little scene.
“Everything is fine.” I quickly gave Sabrina a nudge prompting her to stand up straight.
“Yes, just fabulous,” Sabrina giggled in a sugary voice.
“Good to hear.” Ms. Mae eyed Sabrina with suspicion. I knew that she knew what Sabrina had done, but luckily she let it go.
“The food has been laid out in the serving room, so the guests have the option of eating. There is no formal dinner tonight. Some of them are already in the ballroom dancing and having drinks. I need you girls to go there and make sure that everyone is happy and to answer any questions they may have. If you read the guides I gave you, you should now know Darkwood’s basic history. If you don’t know the answer to a question, find me or Henri. Some of the guests have children, so please keep an eye on them in case they decide to wander the property. It can be awfully frightening in the dark,” explained Ms. Mae. I tried to take mental notes of everything she was saying.
“Got it,” I affirmed.
“Not a problem.” Sabrina’s doubt-filled voice was a clear giveaway that she hadn’t heard a word Ms. Mae had said.
“I know you girls will do great.” Ms. Mae looked upon us approvingly before she left the kitchen.
After she left, Sabrina turned her attention back to Ivan. “If you want any chance with me, stop being a jerk to my friend.” She took another drink from the tray he was holding and carelessly tossed it back.
Ivan didn’t say anything, but I knew from his expression that he was doing everything in his power not to make another snarky remark. “Sure, I’ll catch you later then,” he directed his comment at Sabrina and refused to acknowledge me.
“Yeah, for sure,” Sabrina giggled and pulled me away. “He is so hot, isn’t he? Did you see the size of his chest and that cleft in his chin? I usually hate bum chins, but it makes him even hotter.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You can’t be serious, he’s such a…”
“Please, you think all guys are jerks.”
r />
How could I explain to her that I got an appalling vibe from Ivan? It wasn’t your typical jerk radar. It was something more than that. It was something threatening and dangerous.
As we walked into the ballroom, the sound of classical piano music greeted us. The room looked spectacular with its chandeliers lit and floors polished. The guests seemed to be having a good time mingling amongst themselves, making small talk about where they were from and why they decided to spend time at Darkwood. I watched as Mr. and Mrs. Dumpty slammed down cocktail after cocktail. Mr. Dumpty caught me staring and came up to us.
“So, we meet again,” he slurred as he stared at Sabrina.
“Gross,” Sabrina muttered.
“You’ve got to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen in the state of Louisiana,” he continued to speak stupidly, while his eyes stayed glued to Sabrina’s pushed-up chest.
“You’re so sweet,” said Sabrina. No matter how repulsive a guy was if he gave Sabrina a compliment, she melted like ice cream. Besides, the three cocktails she gulped down earlier were probably taking effect right about now.
“Would you do a fat guy from New York a favor and dance with him?” asked Mr. Dumpty, as he bowed in an exaggerated manner.
“Why I would be delighted,” responded Sabrina channeling Scarlett O’Hara. “I only hope your wife won’t mind.”
“Nah, she’ll be fine with it.” Mr. Dumpty turned around to make sure his wife was busy flirting with a cocktail waiter.
Mr. Dumpty clumsily escorted Sabrina to the floor where he proceeded to hold her close to him and blatantly stare at her chest. Well at least one guest was taken care of, I thought. I started to relax and sway to the music when I realized someone was missing. Wait, where was the Dumpty’s son? Amidst the cocktails and dancing, the Dumptys seemed to have forgotten about him. He was nowhere in sight, so I decided to interrupt Mrs. Dumpty’s flirt session.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Dumpty,” I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Wait a minute,” she slurred without turning around. “You really can balance a spoon on your nose? Nah, I don’t believe you,” she challenged the waiter.
“Mrs. Dumpty,” I tried again. “Where’s Ben?”
“Ben? Who’s Ben? His name is Andy, isn’t it?” She pinched the waiter’s cheek and licked her thin dry lips.
I was horrified. How could she not even remember her own son? “Ben, your son,” I reminded her.
“Oh, right. He must be sitting in some corner somewhere,” she offered. “He loves corners.”
“Thanks,” I halfheartedly muttered as I went to search for Ben. If anything happened to him, I knew that the Dumptys would blame Darkwood, and I would be the one held responsible. That would mean sayonara summer job and hello homelessness. I searched all corners of the ballroom but couldn’t find Ben. The Gopals were engaged in lively conversation with Ms. Mae who seemed to be enjoying herself. There was no point getting her involved.
“Ben, Ben, are you here?” I gently whispered while desperately scanning the dance floor. I headed towards the spiral staircase where I thought a heard a whimper.
“At least you care about me,” breathlessly pouted a sad little voice.
I kneeled down and found Ben cleverly hidden under the spiral staircase. His chubby cheeks were red, and his beady eyes were full of tears. When he saw me, he pulled down his Yankees baseball cap over his eyes as an attempt to hide his weeping. “Hey Ben.” I crawled under the staircase and sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“I came here to see the alligators and the ghosts, but all Mom and Dad want to do is see the hurricane,” he complained. “Here’s the swamp,” he showed me a map of Darkwood with its swamp circled in red.
I had to laugh. “I think you mean drink a Hurricane.”
“Whatever, they never pay attention to me anyways.”
“I’m sure they do,” I offered. “After they’re done drinking their Hurricanes, I’m sure they’ll take you to see the alligators and ghosts. There’s still plenty of time to see them.”
“Tonight?” His eyes brightened. “Look, it’s not even a ten minute walk. I can read maps, and this map tells me that we can be there in no time.”
“Well, maybe not tonight, but maybe we can do something else.”
“I would really like a Coke,” he requested.
“If that is what you would like, that is what I will get you. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I went to the kitchen in search of Ben’s Coke. It was still full of staff shouting at one another, arguing over whether or not the dessert should be put out now or later. “Hey,” I said to Ivan, even though I didn’t ever want to talk to him. “Is there any Coke around here?”
“It depends what variety you’re looking for, liquid or powder?”
“You know what I’m talking about, where is the Coke?” I sharply demanded.
“Over there, queen,” he pointed to the counter where cans of soda were laid out. I grabbed one without thanking him and hurried off to deliver it to Ben. I sensed that someone had an agenda to make my time at Darkwood a living nightmare.
Back in the ballroom, the party was in full swing. The music had gotten louder, and the guests livelier. I skimmed the room for Sabrina since I could see Mr. Dumpty arguing with the cocktail waiter Mrs. Dumpty had been flirting with. When I finally spotted Sabrina, her head was thrown back like someone had told her an infinitely hilarious joke and her right hand was on the shoulder of the guy beside her. I bet she was flirting with another guest.
I started to walk towards her, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the profile of the guest. It was him. It was the shirtless guy who had seen me in my towel, only now he was wearing a shirt and a black tuxedo jacket. I felt my face getting hot, and my mouth parched, thinking back to what had happened. The black jacket outlined the broadness of his shoulders and his toned waist. His dark, shaggy hair glistened as it fell below his ears and flipped out slightly at the ends. What was wrong with me? It was just a guy, and besides, he was obviously interested in Sabrina.
I stood there frozen like an absolute idiot. Not because I thought he would recognize me, but because I didn’t want to interrupt Sabrina. I knew she would pout if I got in the middle of her flirt fest with formerly-shirtless guy. Besides, I had to get back to Ben. Unfortunately, Mr. Dumpty interrupted my thoughts. “Hey there pretty lady, do a fat guy from New York a favor and dance with him?”
“I really can’t,” I replied quicker than I should have.
“Please,” he was starting to brazenly beg, “have some pity on me. My wife is flirting with a cocktail waiter.”
“I can’t dance,” I attempted to get out of his offer. It wasn’t a complete fabrication. I was the worst dancer ever. I had absolutely no rhythm and was prone to tripping over my feet. Given the fact that I was in a massive ball gown, it would only make matters worse.
“It’s not so tough, I’m sure you’ll catch on.” Mr. Dumpty’s drunken voice was so loud that the entire room was starting to stare.
“Fine,” I mumbled. I placed the can of Coke on a nearby table. Mr. Dumpty put his arm around my waist and practically dragged me onto the dance floor. I held my breath praying that I wouldn’t have to smell the gumbo/Hurricane fumes that were radiating from him.
“See, it’s not so hard now is it?” Mr. Dumpty was trying to encourage me as he dragged me from one end of the dance floor to the other. I felt like a helpless rag doll in his arms as he swung me from side to side. He started humming along with the music and brought his hand dangerously close to my butt. Repulsion filled me as he tried to peer seductively into my eyes and puckered his lips. I heard some of the guests starting to snicker as I struggled not to get bounced back and forth by his enormous belly. I was mortified as he picked up the pace and I almost tripped over my gown. My face started to flame with embarrassment. I prayed that somehow I would become invisible.
“Would you allow me to cut in?” Formerly-shirtless guy swiftly
tapped Mr. Dumpty on the shoulder.
“I don’t know. I’m having a great time.” Mr. Dumpty was determined to keep torturing me, as he gave me another dramatic twirl. I felt the room spinning, as the faces around me took delight in my humiliation.
“I’m sure there are plenty of other guests that would love to dance with a fine dancer such as yourself.” Flattery obviously worked on Mr. Dumpty as he stopped swooshing me around and let formerly-shirtless guy cut in.
I immediately pulled away. “I don’t feel like dancing anymore!” I snapped at formerly-shirtless guy and hurried away. I know I was being childish and should have at least thanked him for stepping in and rescuing me from Mr. Dumpty, but I was mortified over what just happened. I felt like an utter fool. I took a few minutes to compose myself before I searched for Sabrina.
“That was so tragic!” Sabrina shouted as she waved me over. Somehow, she had managed to drag formerly-shirtless guy back to her side.
Formerly-shirtless guy looked me straight in the eyes and smiled. He looked entertained as I ignored him. “I have to go help out a guest!” I yelled at her from across the room. “I have to go give him a Coke.”
“Come back when you’re done.” Sabrina had already turned her attention back to the guy.
“Sure.” I grabbed the Coke from the table where I had left it. It was a lie because there was no way I was going to talk to formerly-shirtless guy after he had seen me in a bath towel and attempted to save me from Mr. Dumpty. Walking towards the staircase where I had left Ben, I could feel someone watching me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I could just sense formerly-shirtless guy’s probing eyes watching me as I walked away. What was it about him? There was something different, but I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I had to snap out of it; otherwise I was going to start sounding like Sabrina.
“Ben, I got your Coke,” I announced as I kneeled down and peered under the staircase. “Ben?” There was silence. “Where are you?” When I saw that Ben wasn’t under the staircase, I went into panic mode. He must have gone upstairs. I ran up the stairs and went inside every open bedroom. I searched under the beds, and behind the antique chests, but there was no sign of Ben. “Ben, Ben!” I continued to shout.
It was useless. He obviously wasn’t there. I needed to think. Where could he have gone to this time of night? Fear gripped me, as I thought about Ben’s obsession to see the alligators and ghosts. Could he have actually headed towards the swamp alone? I ran into my bedroom and pulled out the Summer Plan. I flipped through the pages until I found a map. Ben had been right, the swamp wasn’t that far away from the house, but it was dark and what lived out there was dangerous.
Map in hand, I flew down the stairs, almost tripping on my gown. When I reached the bottom, Ben was still nowhere in sight. Sabrina was holding a champagne glass and slow dancing with formerly-shirtless guy. I decided not to interrupt her because explaining what had happened would waste time. I headed out the front door and made my way to the swamp.