"My course is set for an uncharted sea."

Dante Alighieri

“Well,” said Senovio. “My course is set for an uncharted sea.” I knitted my brow and looked at him. I gave a slow nod at my brother as I opened my mouth and pointed my finger at him. “Dante Alighieri?” I asked him, curiously. Senovio nodded. “Yup,” he replied, emphasizing on the P. The only reason he remembered quotes from Dante Alighieri is that he was the only author that ever caught Senovio’s interest. Throughout my brother’s life, he wasn’t much of a reader, but for some strange reason, when he started college, Dante Alighieri became his favorite author. Sometimes I believed he was using the old fart to pick up girls.

“Carmen!” Henry said, tugging at my arm again. “Can we please go look at the graveyard closer, please!” I shook my head. “I don’t think that mama would like that, bud,” I told him. Henry hung his head low and stuck out his bottom lip. I smirked. I knew what he was doing. Everyone called it the Booboo Puppy Face. Whenever Henry asked us if he could do something. We always told him ‘no.’ Then Henry would always make the B.P.F. in response. It was sort of his way of trying to get them to give in. Right now, it wasn’t working. “Next time,” I told him. Only, I knew that there would not be a next time. “Let’s go to the front porch, Mom and Dad are waiting.”

We met our parents at the front porch, where our suitcases remained untouched. I looked at the tall, wide olive doors that stood before us, staring back at them. “What do we do now?” said Senovio. “Wait until someone answers the door?” The moment he finished his question, the doorknob turned, and the doors opened. Senovio’s eyes widened. He looked at Mom and Dad, then at me. I took a step towards the open door. “What?” I replied. “I knocked.” That was a lie. I saw the door open by itself. I didn’t want to cause any more stress on them.

We gathered our belongings and entered the manor. We stopped inside an old dusty abandoned foyer with wall paper peeling away. Our attention drew to a somber portrait on top of another door. The portrait was of a veiled woman and a grim man. They stood before the manor on a winter day. Which was strange because who would want their portrait done in the middle of winter? Especially outside to be specific.

“Hello?” Dad called out. “Is...anyone home?”

There was no answer. Everyone entered the long, quiet hallway with lined portraits on each side. At the end of the hallway hung a large portrait of a young girl (that looked to be my age) in her wedding dress. Her hair was a rich shade of chestnut brown that flowed in long waves down to her hips, adorning her porcelain-like skin. (Which was odd because that’s how long my friend Montserrat’s hair was.) The woman had large sea-green eyes, which were full of life. But also, it seemed she held all the burdens of the world. She also had a straight nose and full lips. This woman was the definition of perfection.

“Is it to your liking?” a soft voice whispered behind me.

I jumped forward and twirled around. “I’m so sorry,” I told the mysterious man. He was a tall man, he had beige-coloured hair and startling blue eyes; even the way he held himself, so high and sophisticated that too made the young girl feel intimidated. I clasped my hands behind my back, trying to keep myself calm. “You gave me a fright, mister,” I told him, nervously. The man smirked and gave a small nod. “One can get easily frightened here at the manor, Ms. Carmen,” he replied. I looked at him confused, wondering how in the world he knew her name. I hadn’t told him anything, but somehow he just knew. “Come, your family is waiting for you at the Grand Staircase.”

“Oh, yes!” I told him, still a little shook. “Thank you, mister...”

“Cristobal,” he replied. “I am the butler of the Baudelaire family. My family and I have worked for them for many...generations.”

“That bridal portrait,” I replied, “if I may ask...who is it?”

“That would be the lady of the house,” he told me. “Mistress Castilla Baudelaire.”

“Is...she...”

“Dead? Oh, heavens no! She is, in fact, very much alive...like the rest of us,” he replied.

Like the rest of us? I thought to myself. It was an odd way of putting it, but for some strange reason I brushed it off and pretended it never happened. “So, how long has this house stood?” I asked him, curiously. Cristobal looked over his shoulder. His cold blue eyes stared deep into my soul. The butler turned his head back towards the candle lit hallway. The hallway led to the Grand Staircase, where everyone was at. “This house has stood for 190 years,” he replied, bluntly. He explained to me that Jack Baudelaire, the first owner of the manor, struck gold in the 1830s and founded the El Dorado Gold Mining Company with his brother Samuel. Jack Baudelaire built the manor on top of a hill for his wife and daughter to overlook the town and the land that they owned. I supposed that was Jack’s way of showing off his riches to all the people down below.

“There are over a hundred rooms on this manor,” he explained. “We have most of them locked, for various reasons,” he finished.

“Oh,” I replied. “Well, that’s comforting.”

When we arrived at the Grand Staircase, my parents stood next to each other, staring out at the mesa through the tall glass facade. While Senovio was busy trying to imitate one of the large paintings of a Native American man. “Carmen!” Henry called out to me from the giant red velvet steps. “You gotta see this place, it’s huge!” He jumped to his feet and rushed down the steps, his tiny feet going up and down like the needle of a sewing machine. By the time he reached the last two steps, he stopped and squatted down. He took a deep breath and jumped as high as he could, landing on both feet.

“Where did you go?” he asked his sister, curiously. “Mama was worried.” I laughed as I picked him up. I hoisted my little brother onto my hip and smiled. I explained I was looking at a giant painting. Henry’s eyes grew big and his tiny lips slightly parted. “Was she pretty?” he asked me. I nodded and told him that she was very pretty, just like a princess from his dragon stories.

“Shall I...take you all to your rooms?” Cristobal asked, stepping into the conversation. He held his hands behind his back, his body slowly stiffening. My best guess is that he was getting a bit aggravating with my brothers, since they always liked to touch everything that they saw in front of them. Mom and Dad looked at one another. Then they turned to us. Mom smiled and nervously wrapped her arms around her stomach. The corners of her mouth twitched as she tried to remain calm. I could tell when she wasn’t feeling comfortable. Mom’s body language was easy to read in situations like this. “Of course,” she told him softly. “We all would like to have a little of rest. Karinos, bamos.”

“As I told the young lady,” Cristobal explained to my family. “That there are over one hundred rooms in the house, and most of them have been kept locked, for various reasons. Which is why the Mistress has provided you rooms on the second floor.” Mom and Dad looked at one another, confused at this point. I could tell from the corner of my eye that Mom was still salty about the whole thing and Dad was trying his best to brush it off. I turned back towards Cristobal, he led them up to the Grand Staircase to the second floor of the manor where the hallway was slightly dimmed but still provided enough light for us to see. Just staring at it was still, sort of, creepy. Just like the outside, the ceilings were decorated in old cobwebs while dust collected on the bodies of the brass candelabra that hung on the wall. Senovio furrowed his brow, he had become slightly confused. He looked at me and I looked at him, but all I could do was shrug my shoulders in response.

“Why can’t we go on the third floor or the attic?” asked Henry. He hopped along the red carpet runway like a rabbit. The butler stopped in his tracks and looked at the young boy. His pale eyes stared at him for a few seconds. “There are things in this house that shouldn’t be asked. Your question is one of them,” he replied. Henry shrunk back frightened. He turned around and ran towards me hiding behind my leg. “Carmen, let’s go home,” said Henry. I smiled and patted his tiny little back, reassuring him it was going to be okay. Senovio knitted his brow, staring at the butler. He crossed his arms over his abdomen. “Are we all going to sleep in the same room?” he asked.

“No,” said Cristobal, “Unless you prefer it that way.”

“No,” Senovio said. “No, thank you.”

The butler nodded and continued to lead them down the quiet hallway. He stopped at one of the tall doors and opened it. “This room will be for the eldest brother,” Cristobal said. He took Senovio’s luggage and moving it into the large room. He then led Henry and I to the room next to Senovio’s. “The lady was kind enough to allow your youngest brother to stay with you,” Cristobal told me as he took my luggage. The butler led them both into the quiet room. I could feel my eyes widened as I looked around the bedroom. Everything was grand that it felt like I was walking on a crystal blue sea.

“Whoa! This is cool!” Henry exclaimed as he jumped up and down on the bed.

“Yeah...it is,” I replied.

I ignored my brother’s excitement. I was more fixated on elaborate objects that decorated the room. My fingers hovered over immaculate items as I walked along the room. I kept my hands at a distance. I was careful enough not to break anything. My gaze drifted towards the king-size bed that Henry was enjoying. Its sheets and pillows looked perfect for anyone who was royalty. “They will serve dinner at four in the dining room,” Cristobal told me. He stood quietly at the door. I turned and gave a quick nod. I thanked the butler with a shaky voice. I was hoping he would leave the room. There was something strange about this man. His skin was white and appeared cold to the touch. The way he moved was robotic like, almost stiff. His eyes were clouded and a thick grey lens sat over his pupils. He lacked any emotion and just appeared to be dead. I gulped, shoving the large lump that sat in the middle of my throat.

“Is there anything else that you need?” he asked me.

I shook my head no and thanked him once again. After the butler left, I released a sigh. “Well,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “That was intense, wasn’t it Henry?” My eyes grew wide as I stared at the empty bed. My heart rate began to quicken, my hands and legs shook while my mouth grew dry like cotton. “Henry?” I said softly, my voice began to tremble. I scurried over to the bed and lifted up the skirts, checking to see if he was hiding underneath it.

“Henry?” I said again, softly as I stared into the darkness. “Enrique, this isn’t funny, now where are you?” There was a sadistic chuckle that grumbled in the darkness underneath the bed. I gulped, feeling my heart beat at a faster rate. I bit my bottom lip, trying my best to remain composed. Ever so slowly, I reached for my phone. The bone chilling cackle continued to break the silence. My fingers into my pocket, carefully pulling my phone out. I slid my arm back in and held my phone with both hands. I turned on the flash light, the bright light illuminated the face.

“Hola, niña,” said Senovio in a high-pitched voice. His eyes were wide and his lips curled into a gummy smile. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I pushed myself out from underneath. My eyes watered and the hairs along my arms bristled. A blanket of goosebumps appeared on my skin soon after. I tried to breathe. But there was any air entering my lungs. I stumbled back and fell, landing on my butt. I placed my hands on my chest, frozen in fear. Clenching my fists up to the level of my neck, I could feel my pulse beating through my veins. Senovio and Henry broke out in laughter as they popped out from the other side of the bed.

“We got you good, Carmen!” said Senovio, climbing onto the large mattress.

“You scared the pee out of me!” I shouted at him.

“Nah, not that bad,” my brother replied.

“It was, and I peed!” I protested. I stood up and walked towards my luggage. I wanted to call him every name in the book. I wanted to scream, shout, punch and kick my brother. I had never been this angry before. When it came to scaring me, I didn’t mind it when my family and I went to Knotts Berry Farm during Halloween or going to the Haunted Mansion in Disneyland. But what Senovio did was not alright. I was not having it. I grabbed a fresh pair of pants and underwear. I stormed off to what appeared to be the bathroom. It was a lucky guess because it was. Once I finished changing clothes, I threw my dirty bottoms into the laundry basket and stared at my older brother. “Out of all the places, you decide to scare me in this supposed ‘haunted house’? How did you get in here?!” I asked him.

Senovio snickered. He slipped both hands in his pockets. “I found a secret door that connects from my room to here,” he replied. I looked at him like he was stupid. “What?” I replied. “Where?” Senovio motioned me to follow him. He took us to the corner of the bedroom. He pushed the curtain away to reveal an old rustic door knob that was attached to the deep scarlet wall. He grabbed hold of the knob and turned it counterclockwise and pulled it open. And when he pulled the door open, the portal revealed the corner of his bedroom. Henry and I looked in. We could see his luggage sitting in solitude by the bed as well as my brother’s laptop.

“Why would they have a bedroom that connects?” I asked him curiously.

Senovio shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he replied.

It was strange, a secret door in the farthest corner. We started thinking that it was meant to be like this. I crossed my arms loosely over my stomach staring up at the door frame. It looked relatively new. Yet, it wasn’t. I stared closely at the frame looking to see if there was anything unusual. I sighed and walked away. “Why did Dad pick this place?” I asked, crossed. “Out of all places, why here?”

“That, I don’t know,” Senovio replied, he walked over and sat down on the bed. “All I know is that this mesa belongs to the National Park, and the National Park allowed whatever her name is to continue to live here because she had...unfinished business to do.” I tilted my head to the side and gave him a weird look. “What do you mean by ‘unfinished business’? That makes no sense,” I replied.

“That’s all I learned in history class, the woman had unfinished business,” he retorted.

“But, don’t you think that’s odd though,” I replied.

“Maybe she’s just trying to find something her family left,” said Senovio.

“I doubt that,” I replied. I placed my fingertips against my temples and slowly rubbed them clockwise, trying my best to focus. Nothing came to mind, my thoughts became an empty void. I placed my hands on my hips and looked at the time on my phone. It read 3:30. We still had thirty minutes of free time before dinner. “Well,” I said, clapping my hands together. “Since dinner will be ready in half an hour, I suggest that we do some exploring.”