The View from the Very Best House in Town

Asha
SPRING..
Sometimes it seems that Donnybrooke is everywhere.
You’re not supposed to be able to see any part of Donny- brooke the most amazing house Asha has ever set foot in- from Sam’s backyard. But from up in Sam’s cherry tree, Asha spots a speck, black against the blue sky. Donnybrooke’s creepy weather vane. It’s the only bit of Donnybrooke she doesn’t love, assuming you don’t include the people who live there.
“I can see Donnybrooke,” she calls down to Sam, the fluttering in her chest tight and familiar. She’d give anything to go back.
Sam doesn’t reply. She can hear him, though, at the base of the tree playing Househaunt on her phone, chasing down a pack of buzzing, clicking monster-bugs.
“I can see it from here, Sam. Come up and look!” She catches herself. Sam never climbs trees. “Actually, sorry, don’t.” The phone lets out a few short zaps and a long sizzle. Sam must have killed off her infestation of Bed-Thugs. She’ll thank him later.
“Sam, Donnybrooke_”
“You can’t see that house from here.”
“I can, for real,” she says.
“No, you can’t.”
“I” starts Asha, but this time the wind interrupts her, send- ing the cherry blossom petals around her in a swirl. Separated, they’re so pale, they’re almost white-it’s like she’s in a snow globe with her world being turned upside down. And just for that moment, Sam is right. Donnybrooke is gone.
Donnybrooke aka The Grandest Mansion in Coreville and Possibly the World
First things first:
Of course Donnybrooke could see the girl. It’s a basic law of nature: if she can see it, it can see her. And thanks to the wonderfully strong winds at the top of its hill, last week’s storm cleared out a number of trees, not the least of which was one of those bloated oaks that had been practically breathing down its turrets. To be fair, that tree in particular was no worse than the rest of the poplars, pines, maples, and oaks that plague Donnybrooke, blocking the views of the fin- est residence in Coreville.
Donnybrooke couldn’t see the boy she was talking to. though it heard him all too well. Ordinarily he’d hardly be worth mentioning in the same sentence as the girl, with her excellent architectural taste. But Donnybrooke has no choice in light of the boy’s egregious error. He referred to Donny- brooke as a… “house.” House? As if Donnybrooke were built simply to be an ordinary shelter for an ordinary family? The correct term is MANSION.
Two syllables even sweeter than the sound of the wood chipper gobbling up a fallen tree.
One last time: MANSION.
Ahhh!