Ebony checked the placement of items on the silver tray one last time. In one hand was a slip of paper containing a list of instructions Violet had written out for her. The other hand Ebony used as a pointer, slowly going down her checklist. The young lady leaned closer to the kitchen table and kept looking back and forth between the paper and tray. For Violet's sake, she had to make sure everything was perfect.
"Mrs. Gardener, you better be grateful that I care about you so much." Ebony huffed.
She recalled how Violet justified writing out these instructions by questioning Ebony's memory. The look of distrust was written all over her face. "I'm sorry, Hun, but I don't trust a lick of your memory when it comes to doing stuff for someone you don't like, especially your Uncle Phineas." That's what she had said. Now, if this had been for any other person and occasion, the young lady's pride would've been hurt by the erroneous assumption of the older woman. But due to it being on this day and for that man, Ebony didn't bat an eye at Violet's needless persistence for perfection and control. She knew that, for Violet, this day was important, because it was the only way for her to express gratitude to the estranged Ibre son.
"Uncle Phineas, even when you're not here, you stir up trouble." Ebony shook her head with a sigh and made her way to a plain, narrow door.
"I wonder...," Ebony thought aloud, "if ever given the chance, how would I explain Uncle Phineas to someone?.. Or at least, his "status" within our family?"
Arriving at the narrow door, Ebony opened it revealing a small pantry. As she made her way inside the room, the image of a certain young pianist came to mind as her imaginary "someone", and who she began pretending was right beside her. However, she didn't allow her imagination to create an exact image of the young man. Just an obscure, handsome replica taller in stature that closely walked behind her.
"Phineas Ibre, the eldest son to the late James and Eliza Ibre; my grandparents." Ebony's eyes moved about the shelves and floor of the room slowly, searching for something, as she talked to her imaginary guest.
Each side of the room had open shelving that was decorated with clear glass jars filled with various items. Some were spices and herbs; a few were dried fruit and vegetables; others were jams, spreads, and oils, while the majority were fermented vegetables. But below the shelves was where Ebony's eyes were primarily drawn to. Down here was where the barrels of grain, baskets of root veggies, and large kitchen tools lived. And somewhere, in a section far back, was a trolley cart.
"The relationship between Father, my uncle, and grandfather is a complex one." Ebony explained. "I was never told the full details of their relationship, but I do know that it's complicated. Though, to what extent, I have yet to know."
"So, basically, your family has secrets that you don't even know about." The obscure, handsome replica reasoned.
"Mmm..? I wouldn't phrase it like that, necessarily. It's more like, I know there are secrets, but I don't know the truth behind them."
"Oh!"
"Yeah. But I am aware that my grandfather deemed Uncle Phineas unworthy of Hedge Manor, her secrets, and all that it protected."
"Wait, so even your house has secrets?"
"Shush! Don't interrupt." Ebony quickly turned around to give the universal sign of "be quiet" to the imaginary man, who in turn replied by rolling his eyes.
"Hence why the environment around my uncle is so tense." Ebony went on. "He's been disinherited."
"Okay, but your uncle being disinherited is between him and your grandfather. Not everyone else. And if there really is tension, why is your uncle here tonight?"
Ebony smiled when she finally came across the cart and gently pulled it out for the Johnathan replica to see.
"Found it!" She smiled.
"That's nice. Now answer my question."
"Only if you push it."
The Johnathan replica gave an annoyed look at Ebony before grabbing the cart's handlebars and pushing it. Now, because this was Ebony's imagination, no man was pushing the cart nor was the cart moving by itself. No, in reality, Ebony was moving the trolley, pushing it with one hand as she slightly walked alongside it. In this way, Ebony had "made room" for her Johnathan replica to push the cart, so that if ever she wanted to look to her right, she could imagine him there.
"Wow!" Ebony teased, "Someone's interested to learn about my family!"
"Well, the more I learn about your family, the more I'll learn about you." Imaginary Johnathan turned his head to look at Ebony. Their eyes met just as they both exited the pantry and into the lit kitchen.
"And why you're so interesting."
Ebony immediately stopped walking and forced her imagination to turn off, causing Imaginary Johnathan to disappear.
"Ebony, what was that just now!?" Ebony questioned herself. "How did explaining about my family dynamic turn into that!? You know what, enough of this. I need to finish setting up this food, so I can give it to Uncle and finally go to sleep."
Ebony pushed the trolley back to her station at the table, then bent down to examine the cart's condition. It was a pretty trolley; made of wood whose sides were etched with vines and floral designs. The trolley was used only when there were guests, and since that didn't happen often, it was common to dust it off before use. But to Ebony's surprise, it was already clean. Her surprise though soon faded into a knowing smile.
"It seems Violet is serious about making everything perfect this visit."
Ebony was glad she didn't have to work as hard to please her awaiting guest and, after rising to her feet, she began placing the various refreshments on the trolley. This act didn't take long, since there was only enough food to feed two people. Ebony took a moment to stare at the delicious display of sweets. Everything on the cart looked so beautiful. There were mini raspberry tarts, decorated with a single dollop of fluffy white cream; blueberry muffins baked with a sprinkle of sugar, that glistened in the lamplight; and a few large squares of sweet lemon pound cake, coated with Violet's special lemon glaze. Out of everything, the pound cake looked extra tempting, and it took every ounce of restraint to keep Ebony from eating one.
"And to think this was all for him..."
It wasn't fair.
Ebony picked up the scrap of paper that had Violet's instructions off the table and began another inspection. This was now the fifth time Ebony was double-checking her work, and by this time, her conscious was rolling its eyes at her.
"Hiding away in the kitchen, while pretending to do something important!?" It scolded. "Is that really something a woman of your age should be doing?"
"...Why are you scolding me now?" Ebony questioned, annoyed that it was trying to make her feel bad. "You know that I don't want to go out there and see him. It's bad enough that I'm being forced to cater to him."
"Which is exactly why you need to be reprimanded! Violet was right. When it comes to dealing with people you don't like, you act in a way that makes those you love unable to trust you! Now stop dragging your feet and go out there and get it over with!"
"I don't like you right now." Ebony pouted, giving her conscious a nasty face before sticking her tongue at it.
"You really don't like him, huh?" the soothing voice of a man caused Ebony to pause and look about.
It was Imaginary Jonathan. Ebony was careless, distracted by her own woes, thus allowing the handsome figment of her imagination to escape. He stood to her right gazing down at her, while she looked up to him. His face was gentle, possessing curiosity and concern.
"No, I don't. I don't like him at all." Ebony replied.
"Why? Does it have something to do with that question you didn't answer earlier?"
Ebony opened her mouth but then closed it. How was she to explain the complicated history of her family to an outsider? The young lady wished she had paid more attention to how Jonathan's eyes were structured. Perhaps then, the words she wished to say would come out easier, instead of her mind drawing a blank, just as Johnathan's eyes were nowhere to be found. Ebony sighed and returned her focus back to the task at hand.
Replica Jonathan sat down in an empty chair stationed at the table, and Ebony walked away in search of napkins and silverware.
"You're not going to answer?" He asked.
"It's not that I don't want to answer." Ebony explained, "It's just that I don't know how."
"Well, you could start with why you don't want to see your Uncle."
"The idea of spending time with Uncle Phineas has, for the majority of my life, been an unpleasant thought."
"Why?"
"Because... they usually end unpleasantly."
"What kind of man is your Uncle?"
"Some say he's charming," Ebony sighed, "but I would describe Uncle Phineas to be more like a poisonous flower. Beautiful on the outside with gentle petals and vibrant colors, but within, lies toxins deadly enough to kill you."
Her words left Imaginary Jonathan silent.
"A lot of strain and confliction surround Uncle Phineas. However, it's not his strain and confliction, but ours."
Ebony gestured to herself when she said "ours", and the act caused Imaginary Johnathan to scrunch his eyebrows and gaze at the lady with concern.
"In some way," Ebony went on, "everyone a part of Hedge Manor, including the staff, is connected to that man. It's like, we each are linked to him by a chain formed from our own emotions. Some are bound by hate and fear, while others through love and regret."
She paused with the conflict of whether to continue written on her face.
"Father... is one of whose chains is made of love and regret. I remember Mother once told me that the reason Father allows Uncle Phineas to visit our home every month is due to a deep-rooted shame. And that this shame is the root of Father's undying love for his brother. I still don't understand what that means, because I've never been told the full story behind their relationship. So for some reason, unbeknownst to me, Father won't let go."
"So, everyone is connected to your Uncle in some way?"
"Yes. You see this list?"
Ebony picks up the piece of paper that Violet had written on and waved in the air.
"This list was written by our housekeeper, Violet. It's detailed instructions on how to display and serve all this food to my uncle. She even made a special tea just for him, and she does this every month. Because she feels indebted to him. For without the help of Uncle Phineas, she would never have born a son."
"So, Violet's chain is also love and regret..."
"Exactly."
Ebony let out a huff and decided to now end her stalling.
"Now if you excuse me, I must send my uncle his refreshments."
"But wait, what about you? What's your chain?"
Ebony looked back at him, and the Johnathan replica knew that he was not going to get an answer.
"Well, at least," Replica Johnathan got up from his seat and quickly walked towards her. He reached for Ebony's hand and held it firmly in his.
"At least, let me come with you! I can tell you don't like being in this situation, so let me be the support you need to get through this!"
Ebony was amazed by her own imagination. Is this what she had wanted all along? For someone to have compassion for her and help her through this annual ordeal? She looked down at her hand and returned the squeeze, wishing that the man's hand was real. She smiled up at Johnathan and wondered why her mind had chosen him to be her source of comfort.
"If only you could." Was Ebony's soft reply, and a saddened expression covered Johnathan's face, as he understood that it was due to his fictitiousness, that she had replied that way.
"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be here."
Johnathan squeezed Ebony's hand one last time, before slowly disappearing before her eyes.
"By the way," Johnathan's voice echoed in Ebony's mind as he gave her a final closed smile, "your conscious was wrong. You don't deserve a scolding for not wanting to see someone you don't like. That's just crazy!"
And with that, he was gone.
Ebony covered her mouth with her hand and swallowed the ache that was crawling up her throat. She quickly turned away from where the fictional man vanished and pushed the cart out of the kitchen and into the hall. She wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes and gave her head a quick shake. The last thing Ebony wanted was to have teary eyes in front of her uncle. Why did her imagination have to come up with that last part!?
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END OF ACT 6
THE HANDSOME ILLUSION