The Hall had been re-done, I can never thank Jasper enough. Every hideous picture and memory of the Baroness had been removed and replaced with personal mementos and photos. Such an improvement. I did keep one picture of the Baroness, though. It hung in the main foyer.
"Why would you keep that picture? She looks terrible in it." Art had told me.
"More the point, darling." I whipped out a black marker and quickly ruined the photo, adorning my mother with a mustache and goatee. Atop her colossal hair, I drew a bird's nest. Fitting. Art chuckled and walked to a display case across the foyer. It was filled with five gowns from the 1957 winter collection. Crimson, olive, and jet fabrics fitted to the bodices of mannequins with long mermaid trains and full tulle skirts. The colors drew to me. I mean, I'll never be caught dead wearing some of those, but the color is a superpower. They capture feeling, emotion, memory.
The moment was one of those you want to last forever; reflection, but at that moment it was about to become, I was snapped out of it and drawn to the chaos behind me: Horace and Jasper chasing all the dogs. Wink led the pack, Buddy and Genghis following behind with the other two behind them. They formed a V shape such that of geese.
"Those bloody beasts!" Horace heaved. He had stopped chasing the dogs to catch his breath against a banister. Jasper laughed his hearty and quick laugh I remember from the streets.
Those two were my family, no doubt. I can only imagine a childhood without them. I wouldn't be here; I wouldn't have worked at the department store, get the Baroness's attention or let Estella die and Cruella De Vil be born. To have the choice between bad and evil is one thing, but pursuing pure genius badness is another. My path, I do not regret. Yet.