The world of writing

I wrote this story in a creative writing class a couple years ago, and while I got an A on it, I'm starting to second guess it's quality..Am I telling too much versus showing? This is just a portion of it, but please tell me what you think of it...

Leonard ran his fingersthrough his thick brown hair as the smooth bourbon ran down his throat.Internally, he thanked God that his French mother’s genes overpowered hisBritish father’s and he wasn’t balding yet. He filled his tumbler, then reachedacross the table and refilled those of his company, Elyse and Bill.

     “Wow,a whollour of silence in this place. It’s incredible!” Bill said, the bourbontaking its toll.    An acting student fromNew York, Bill took this job because he hadn’t booked any gigs over the summerand couldn’t afford rent in the city. Free room and board kept him fromsleeping in front of some upscale boutique on Fifth Avenue; a bed was a bed,even if it meant going all the way to Maine. The ad said he might get to dosome acting here, but he didn’t see where that would fit in, and he definitelydidn’t know why they insisted he brush up on the French he studied in highschool.

     “Well,don’t get used to it. Annie’s been slipping lately, and there’s no telling whenshe’ll lose it again,” Leonard said.

     Elyse tucked a lock of her blond hair behind her ear and looked Leonard in his eyes,as if trying to see his soul. An art student from a wealthy background, shetook the job because she had to. If she didn’t work, she wouldn’t get herinheritance, twelve million dollars and the family’s seafood harvestingcompany, which stretched up the Canadian coast. She spent most of her free timeeither talking with her friends back home or outdoors painting. “Ya know,” shesaid. “I think she needs a drink. You should let her loosen up, when was thelast time she got to let go?”

     “Wediscussed this during your interview- she is to never, ever have alcohol. She’sa nuisance already,” Leonard said, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “Have youbeen administering her medications properly?” he asked the naïve young woman.

     “Ofcourse, every day,” Elyse half lied. She gave Annie her morning medicationswhen everyone would notice at the breakfast table, but lately she had begun topity Annie, and stopped giving her the night dose.

     Thethree sat in silence, Elyse and Bill considering different options for Annie. Leonardconsidered different options for himself- caring for a competent master,another career, or retirement and going back home to Devon, England.

     Annieentered the dining hall and sat next to Elyse, taking the bourbon and pouringit down her throat before any of them could do something about it.

     “Youcan’t have that!” Leonard said, prying the glass from her.

     “Don’ttell me what I can and cannot have! I am NOT a child!” Annie yelled as Leonardpulled the decanter closer to himself.

     “Annie,we both know it is my job to look after you and your health, and when youbehave like a child, you’ll be treated like one!”

     Elyseand Bill looked on in shock, Bill batting his green eyes open to take it allin. They’d both signed on as summer help only a month ago, and while they’dseen Annie in a fit, they’d never seen Leonard like this. He was normally calmand collected, patient with Annie’s tantrums.

     Anniestood up.

     “Andwhere do you think you’re going?” Leonard asked.

     “Tomy bedroom. I will not be talked down to,” she said. “Especially by the help.”She left the table and disappeared into the darkness of her home.

     Leonardsighed. “I don’t know why this is happening. She’s been stable for nearly sevenmonths, doesn’t make sense,” he said, clearing the glasses from the antique oaktable.

     “Will she be alright in the morning?”Elyse asked, placing dust covers on the 18th century French chairssurrounding the table to busy herself and avoid meeting Leonard’s eyes.

     “Idon’t know. This could really go either way. Do you both remember your crisistraining?”

     “Youmean the French and role playing?” Elyse asked.

     “Andthe sensitivity stuff?” Bill added.

     “Yes.I hoped that there would be no need for it, but you may finally get to do a bitof improv Bill. And, Elyse, my dear,” he paused. “You’ll finally get to seeAnnie…loosen up.”

~*~

     Laterthat night, Leonard lay in bed making calls to retired coworkers, explaining thesituation and asking if any of them could spare a couple days, just in case. Hecalled to the stable house and told the stable boy to come inside. He was toreplace all of the electric lighting with candle sticks, and to close allcurtains and cabinets that displayed televisions or any other moderntechnology. Just as Leonard was ready to lie down for the night, his phonerang. Ready to sleep but afraid it was someone calling with questions about thefollowing days, he reluctantly picked up the receiver.

     “EstatePetit, Leonard Bloom speaking.”

     “Leonard?Really, Leonard is that you?!”

     Hecouldn’t believe it. She had finally come back to him.

They met at a farmer’s market.She was a student at the time, ten years his junior and studying sociology. Oncea week they’d meet at a coffee shop and learn everything there was to knowabout each other. She told him of her desires to travel the world beforesettling into the picket fence life and Leonard shared tales of his life: whatit used to be, and what it consisted of now. Then she graduated and left forthe Peace Corps, prompting Leonard to completely give in to the demands of hisjob, relinquishing any dream of a life outside of work.

     “Rebecca?”

     “Leonard,I can’t believe you’re still there! I ran into Tom Williamson at a book shop intown a couple days ago, and he told me you stayed on even after Master Petit died.”

     “Well,yes, I feel…obliged to stay,” he said, the pain of the truth stabbing at him.“What brings you into town?”

     “I’vefinished my second tour with the Peace Corps and thought I’d stop here before Iwent to the city to see everyone that I left behind. I was really hoping to seeyou this weekend.”

     “O,I’m not so sure that’s a great idea. This, this isn’t really a great time, butI’ll call you if I can slip away for a while...”he trailed off, knowing therewould be no such chance with Annie leaning towards a psychotic break.

     “Thatsounds great! I’ll let you get to sleep, I know it’s late. I’ll be waiting foryour call!” she said and hung up.

     For far too long, Leonard thought,placing the receiver on its rest. He closed his eyes and drifted away.

~*~

The morning breeze blew infrom the garden and brushed across Leonard’s face. Years ago, when Annie wasstable, he used to take her out for twenty minutes at a time, letting her sitand enjoy the breeze in her face and the rose petals falling from the treesinto her hair as they blew toward from the ocean. Those twenty minute breaksevery two hours felt like heaven to him. But now his memories seemed more like a surreal dream.

     Heopened his eyes and rubbed them out. He looked at the chestnut night standbeside the bed and thought about the leather pouch in its drawer. He occasionallyturned to drugs as a means of escape, but never went over the edge. Yet if heever was truly desperate for escape, he knew his little pouch wouldn’t failhim. Rolling his eyes to the centuries old portrait of a French aristocrat hangingon his wall reminded him of last night’s fiasco, and he jumped to his feet andslid into his robe.

     Leonardwalked briskly through the long narrow hall outside of his room and opened thedoor to his left, Bill’s room, and knocked on the door to his right.

     “Elyse,you dressed?”

     “Comein,” she shouted through the door. Leonard swung it open and commanded bothstudents from the hallway.

     “Judgingfrom her behavior last night, and patterns I’ve noticed over the years, I feelit my duty to inform you that there is the possibility that Mademoiselle Petithas slipped from our reality and into another. Today may be, if not the mostdifficult, the most strange of your stay. You both signed onto your positionsknowing of her condition, and so I expect the most respect and courtesy beshown to her, even if she isn’t completely deserving, understood?”

     “Yes,sir,” Elyse said as both appeared in their doorways.

     “Yeah…butLeonard?” Bill hesitated, using a compact mirror to examine his freckled skin.“Is she, um, violent crazy, or just weird crazy?” He looked up. “I gotauditions coming up, and I can’t have scars on my face. I mean, nobody wantstheir Romeo to look like Quasimodo, ya know?”

     “Bill,”Leonard sighed. “Crazy is crazy. How far she goes depends on how much you tryto tell her she’s wrong, that she doesn’t make sense. You want to act? Treattoday as an exercise in improvisation. I’m going to check on Annie; hopefullytoday won’t involve any acting at all. I want to meet both of you in thekitchen in exactly fifteen minutes,” Leonard said, turning to open the doorthat lead to the remainder of the castle as the students continued dressing.

     Toreach Annie’s apartment from the staff quarters Leonard descended four flightsof stairs and rounded countless corners which led to the grand foyer. Fromthere he entered a pair of Rococo era French doors leading to the parloradjoined to Annie’s apartment. He looked straight ahead through the hall thatconnected the two-his gaze met a crack betwixt the door and jamb, and hethought she might be up and getting ready for the day; maybe there was hopeafter all.

     Leonardproceeded through the hall, which Master Petit had mirrored and lined withchandeliers similar to what Annie had seen at Versailles on a family trip. Leonardexamined himself as he went. He’d worked for the Petits the whole of his adultlife, but the past three years after Annie’s mother Carmen passed, had been theworst, and it showed. He was the only caretaker left for his master’s mentallyill daughter, and there were just too many times that he retreated to hislittle leather pouch to relieve himself of his duties, even if only for alittle while. Doing his best to remain loyal to the promise he made Annie’sfather upon his deathbed ten years ago, Leonard was trying not to give up. Is there an end in sight? Can Annie be cured?

     Hepeeked through the crack, one eye at a time. She wasn’t in bed. Great! he thought as he burst throughthe door and saw her looking out to the East Garden.

     “Annie,dear, you gave me such a fright last night. I thought we’d have to pull out allthe stops on you, old girl!” he said as he crossed the room to her.

     “Annie?I am not Annie,” she replied. “I am Marie.” The confusion was displayed on hercountenance.

     “Ah,Miss,” Leonard said, the hope drainingfrom his eyes. “My mistake, let me call your maids to help you dress” he said,and headed for the kitchen, making calls along the way.

~*~

“It’s happened again. She’sMarie Antoinette, or so she believes. I’ve called the gardeners as well asformer staff from her father’s administration in to act as house staff. Theyall know the drill. As for the both of you-Bill, you’ll retain your currentposition and duties. Elyse, I want you to call in your girlfriends from thecity for champagne and cake,” Leonard said. “It’s play time.”

The trio heard the frontdoors slam shut as two maids rushed in to dress the teen queen.

Leonard led his help acrossthe hall to a set of double doors he’d never shown them before. He keyed in acode and opened the doors to reveal a room full of eighteenth century costumes,wigs, and shoes. The left side was lined with color blocks-differentcollections of uniforms for various positions- and the right side boasted amyriad of hues-reds, purples, blues, yellows, greens, and pinks, alloverflowing with plaids and prints, ruffles and pleats-countless dresses,corsets and crinolines for Elyse to choose from. There were twice as many inAnnie’s own closet.

     “Bill, you’re in blue and cream with me. The wig is above theuniform and the shoes below it-take your size. Elyse, my dear, take your pick.White wigs in the front, colored ones towards the back. There is also anassortment of tall wigs in boxes back there,” he said, pointing to a corner.“I’m sure you’ll use your woman’s intuition to figure out where all of theshoes went,” he laughed and removed his uniform from the rack as he turned tothe door. He kept his own shoes and wig in his room. “Oh, before I forget. Infront of Annie,” he added. “We speak French.”

~*~

Leonard watched theafternoon play out like a witty comedy. Annie, full of excitement and the joyof life, frolicked with Elyse and her friends, gossiping and playing youthfulparlor games. Periodically she’d call him. “Leonard!Leonaaard! Bring us more champagne!” And he would, he’d bring the girlsmore champagne and her more sparkling juice, or more cakes and pies, or meatsand cheeses, whatever they asked. Then he’d return to the line with Bill andtwo men, Tom and Charles, his ever faithful retired pals.

     He stood there silently, watching as the girls chased each otherabout the room. Laura, one of Elyse’s friends, was blindfolded and trying totag one of the other girls. Annie playfully mimicked her shadow, making sillyfaces to her back. Leonard’s mind began to wander. He thought of what his lifewould be like had he chosen another career when he came to America-if insteadof going into the family business of paid servitude he had become a teacher ora doctor and married a sweet American girl who thought his accent wascute.  They would have chased each otherthrough parks, and he’d sneak up behind her, just as Annie did Laura, only he’dkiss his American sweetheart and devote all of his time to her and their children.

Yet he was here in a palacefilled with the makings of a happy man but lacked the time to enjoy thembecause he was babysitting a psychotic wreck. There would be no happyending-for him nor her. Per her father’s will, Annie’s estate would go to themost senior person caring for her at her passing, and that was him. She wastwenty-eight years his junior and she’d surely outlive him, meaning he’d spendthe rest of his days in her service. After he was gone, she was fated to aninstitution, going in and out of psychotic fits.

The sun was beginning to seton the castle. Leonard led Bill, Tom, and Charles to the kitchen to preparedinner. He opened the drawer nearest him and took out four tapers, handing oneto each man and keeping one for himself, then lighting them with a pocketlighter. The room came alive as the men made their way to its far end, Charlesand Bill lighting candelabras on the tables, and Tom and Leonard lightingsconces along the walls.

Once every candle was lit,the men removed their powdered wigs and Leonard took a duck in a roasting panfrom the refrigerator as Tom and Charles took to their former duties, h’or deurvesand desserts, respectively. Bill built a quick salad and focused on sides-beinga poor college student he knew how to get crafty with spices.   

“Ay, Leonard,” Tom calledacross the table. “What’re we blokes gonna ‘ave tonight?”

“That depends…how fancy abloke are ya?” Leonard said with a laugh.

“Well, let’s see, eh. Beforeyou called me outta m’ sleep I ‘ad dirt in ma nails, knots in m’ ‘air andspinach in ma teeth…actually,” Tom said, sucking his teeth. “I still got someof the spinach.”

“Alright then, Charlie,freezer pizza okay by you, then?” Leonard asked, laughing with Tom.

“I haven’t got a singleobjection, sir,” Charles said, never taking his eyes off of his pastries.

“Then an artery clogging,heart stopping, three meat it is, boys!” Leonard stopped halfway throughstuffing the small bird, removed the pizza from the freezer, tossed it into theoven sans pan, and turned back to the work table.

Bill was mashing potatoes,mixing fresh with the boxed variety and his favorite herbs. Tom worked on hissecond appetizer, a foie gras paste squeezed onto crackers and topped withimported Beluga. Charlie was busy piping rosettes onto petite fours, and herewas Leonard, ready to go back to stuffing the duck to the point of explosion.He thought about how pointless it all was, all this work for a woman who wasn’tvery likely to remember any of it tomorrow. All of this work and no pay out,how much longer could he stay?