Lost In Underland

She was ecstatic about reaching her destination. As the smaller, bland-looking cottages behind her gradually blurred and grand ones came into sight along the river, she knew she was close to the part of the village occupied by the affluent. The kingdom of Upland exhibited a marvelous cerulean sky, vivid as her simple dress made vibrant by the host of colors in mixed pieces of cloth, patched together to form the dress that flawlessly covered her beautiful figure. 

Favored by youth, she tenaciously rowed forward, drifting past trees, grasses, paddling ducks, folks on horses as well as feet and birds flying over the river until finally, her destination, admirable, appeared closely before her. 

It was a stone-walled one-story cottage that proudly overlooked the river and had a wooden dock protruding from its shore, its jutting edge, welcoming. Wrapped around the house was a short sturdy-looking wooden fence with medium post gaps. The fence housed an orchard with climbing vines resting across it in haphazard positions so that amidst different flowers with varying heights around in the yard, the house gave off a pleasant presence. 

Amber beamed, admiring the sight even as she aimed the tail of her canoe at the dock. As the dock drew closer, she maneuvered the canoe to a slow cruise, rose, and moved close to the bow seat where she slowly brought the canoe to a side of the dock. With little impact, it collided side by side with the dock and she hastily slipped the paddle underneath the seats before grabbing the free end of a rope attached to the stern. Securely, she tied the free end of the rope to one of the anchoring poles at the dock and climbed onto it in the plain sunburnt catapult sandals that encased her feet.

Without much ado, she sauntered forward, heading towards the house. At the entrance of the fence, she pushed the gate open and let herself into the yard, seizing a moment to admire the compound. It had an immaculate lawn with lavender flowers marking a clean walkway that ran directly to the porch stairs which led to the brawny front door of the house. 

Amber was beginning to feel some awe. As a result, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, exhaled, and continued forward, straight up to the front door. The knock she gave returned a faint sound, hence she knocked again with more power but it was the same. Amber stepped back and noticed the pull cord doorbell made of brass. 

Mentally chastising herself for not noticing it earlier, she reached for the cord and pulled it, ringing the bell which emitted an unpleasant chime that had her protecting her ears with her hands.

A few seconds passed with no response hence, she reached for the cord again but was interrupted by a squeak from the door as it was slightly opened from the inside by Cressida, a young frustrated-looking woman of about 30 with sharp features. Cressida poked her head through the slightly open door and saw Amber who was giving her a friendly smile.

“Hello,” Amber said, “my name is Amber and I am to be a new help.”

“A child?” asked Cressida, eyeing Amber from head to toe. 

Amber couldn’t tell if Cressida really expected a reply or if she was just wondering out loud.

 “A girl,” she replied since they were the only words that came to her.

Cressida’s brows shot up, not expecting that. 

 “Smart mouth? Too bad it will be humbled here.” 

Amber threw her a puzzled look, wondering what she meant but without another word, Cressida pulled the door wide open and stepped aside. Amber then noticed a packed box standing somewhere adjacent to her and before she could try to contemplate what was going on, Cressida introduced herself matter-of-factly.

“I’m Cressida, ex-maid as of now.”

“Oh, I see,” Amber said, “but wait a minute, you had to live here?” 

She was horrified by the idea because she couldn’t bear the thought of staying away from her mother. It had never happened before and she wouldn’t know what to expect. She did not even want to know.

“The job demands it,” replied Cressida. “Come inside.”

“I cannot leave my mother.” Amber declared but Cressida looked unconcerned.

“Not my problem.”

Cressida proceeded to take the handle of her box and Amber stepped inside the house, at once, momentarily lost in admiration of the interior which was remarkable, capped with beautiful settees and ornate curtains. On the wall inside the parlor were different painted portraits. Amber’s eyes lingered on the portrait of a grand-looking castle with a sprawling space in its gates. Taking her eyes off the portrait, she looked around and saw a flight of steps leading up to closed doors. The house managed to present a look of unfussiness, she thought. 

Amber noticed that Cressida, with folded arms, had been studying her with a somewhat pitiful look in her eyes which she found strange. Notwithstanding, Amber shot her a smile.

“It is beautiful, this house.” She said, airing her view.

With a wry smile, Cressida gave the house a once over.

“Not all that glitter is gold. I’ll give you a word of advice.” 

She beckoned Amber closer and Amber drew near her, interested in whatever she had to say. She believed that she might get a good tip to help her work since Cressida had the experience unlike herself, a would-be first-time maid.

“If you can live here,” Cressida whispered, “You can live anywhere…”

“Ahem!”      

Her advice was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. It was the kind of throat clearing, deliberately done to announce one’s presence or better still, send some kind of ominous warning. At once, Amber and Cressida’s eyes followed the sound which had come from the top of the stairs and rested on Isis, an elegant and attractive woman in her fifties. Amber knew about her from a distance. It was what the whole of Upland knew. 

Isis was the wealthy widow of the former Judge of Upland. After the king, she was considered the richest person in the kingdom. She had a smirk on her face as she fixed her gaze on Cressida.

“You shouldn’t teach my prospective maid to gossip.” She said sharply and Cressida gave Amber that pitiful look again. 

“Be strong.” She murmured and then looked up at Isis. “I was just leaving.”

“Goodbye,” Isis said coldly and Cressida took one last look at Amber like she had more to say but instead, she started to leave with her box. Amber watched her go, lost in confusion until she heard Isis’s voice sweetly calling out to her. 

“You down there, honey.”

Amber looked up to see Isis smiling down at her. She returned the smile and introduced herself.

“My name is Amber.”

“Sweet Amber,” said Isis. “Can you please shut the door behind that thing? Thank you.”

Amber’s face slowly lost the smile as inwardly, she disapproved of the insult. Notwithstanding, she walked to the door, shut it, and turned around to find that Isis had started down the stairs, seemingly all business now with a serious look on her face. Good, Amber thought, because in all seriousness, she had to let the woman know she had no intention of living there as Cressida had done.

“Let’s talk” Isis began, “are you a good girl, hardworking, able to clean, wash, and live here?”

“Yes to all but one. I cannot leave my mother.”

By now Isis had reached downstairs and they were approaching each other.

“What villager wouldn’t feel lucky to live here?” asked Isis. “Is your mother disabled, sick, dying?”

“No. I like this house.” Amber replied honestly. “It is pretty but I just want to be able to go back to my mother. I will miss her.” 

“How touching,” Isis said with mock pity and Amber felt uneasiness creeping over her. Forlorn, she watched as

Isis started back towards the stairs. “Come back when you’re grown up.” The woman threw over her shoulders with a note of finality and Amber was overwhelmed with dismay at the thought of losing the job opportunity.

“No wait. Please we need the money,” she confessed desperately as she considered her dear mother. Isis paused in her tracks, right on the second step, and turned to face her.

“Good girl,” she said.           

“As long as I can go visit her,” said Amber and this was nonnegotiable, her heart decided.

“Saturdays through Sundays,” declared Isis, “Take it or leave it.”

“That will make you my guardian?” was Amber’s tentative question.

“Exactly Amber, what else could it be?” Isis responded and continued up the stairs. “You have until the end of the day to make up your mind or I’ll be considering another.”

Amber was lost in her struggle to decide the unpleasant situation and she thought hard. This was unexpected. Yes, it was a beautiful place but how could she stay away from her mother and see her only on weekends? 

She had been thrilled about earning a living for both of them but now she felt all her verve slowly leaving her. There was a tiny consolation in the opportunity to see her mother at weekends but right now all she felt was emptiness and fear of the unknown.