At the Water's Edge

I stared at him and began nodding. “So that’s what this is really about.”

 

“What?”

 

“As if you don’t know. I’m sending a telegram to the Colonel this very minute.”

 

“Saying what?” Hank asked.

 

“That Ellis isn’t color-blind! That he lied to get out of service!”

 

Hank went slack-jawed. “Maddie, my God! Of course he’s not faking it. That’s a terrible thing to say!”

 

“Oh, please,” I said. “How stupid do you think I am? You obviously planned it together, finding conveniently invisible ailments to keep you out of the war.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Flat-footed? Please.”

 

Hank sputtered in outrage. “I am flat-footed. I’ve been wearing custom shoes my entire life!”

 

“You’re each as bad as the other. I’ve had it.” I stood up.

 

“Maddie, stop—”

 

He said it with enough conviction that I did.

 

“Don’t do it,” he said.

 

“Why? There will be no point in having me treated once everyone knows the truth.”

 

“Because it’s not the truth, and this is exactly the type of rash behavior Ellis is worried about. You get something in your head, and then you act on it without any regard for consequence, no matter who it damages. If you send a telegram to the Colonel, Ellis will just have you treated sooner rather than later—it’s all been arranged, he only has to make a phone call—and then for good measure, he’ll probably have Blackbeard hauled off as well.”

 

“Angus? Why?”

 

“Because of exactly that. The unsuitable familiarity. Ellis is sure he’s been taking advantage of you, so he stopped by the courthouse to check the penalty for poaching. It’s two years in prison per offense, by the way.”

 

I sat back down, slowly.

 

“So if it’s a phone call away and there’s nothing I can do, why are you even telling me?” I asked.

 

Hank sighed. “I don’t know. I guess because it is a phone call away. To warn you, I suppose, so you can try not to set him off. I was initially against the whole idea, but I have to be honest—Maddie, you’re scaring me. Do you realize what you just accused me of? What you just accused Ellis of? It’s like you consciously came up with the one thing that would hurt us the most. That’s not like you. The Maddie I know wouldn’t do that.”

 

Ellis came thumping back downstairs.

 

“Here,” he said, pressing a glass of water into my hands.

 

I pushed it back at him, spilling some onto his pants.

 

He set the glass on the table and gazed at me with exaggerated concern.

 

“Darling, you look rattled. Do you need a pill? I picked some up while we were gone. Found a very nice doctor, top of his field.”

 

And then I knew it was true. I could see it running behind his eyes like a ticker tape—the false and self-serving concern that he would eventually convince himself was genuine, his enormous and growing satisfaction that I was, indeed, acting hysterically, along with his rewriting of history, so that he’d only ever done what was necessary for my happiness, because it was all he’d ever cared about— It was like he was channeling my mother. I realized how much now hinged on my behavior, and did my best to channel her too.

 

“No, I just have a bit of a stomach bug,” I said. “I’ve been queasy all day. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go lie down for a bit.”

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, using the same unctuous tone.

 

“No. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

 

“Maddie?” he asked. “Were you in the kitchen just now, when we came back?”

 

“Yes,” I said, forcing a brief smile. “I was looking for something to settle my stomach.”

 

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Of course.”

 

“I’ll come down at seven, shall I?”

 

“Only if you feel up to it,” he said. “Try to get some rest, darling.” I rose in as dignified a manner as I could, and somehow made it up the stairs.

 

 

Meg showed up within minutes.

 

I opened the door, then collapsed facedown on my bed.

 

“What’s going on?” she said, closing the door. “You should have spoken louder. We couldn’t hear a thing.”

 

“Bolt that, please,” I said.

 

She locked the door and sat beside me. “What happened? Did you tell him you were ending it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I can’t,” I said miserably. “I have to reconcile with Ellis, or at least pretend to.”

 

Meg jumped off the bed and spun angrily toward me. “What? How could you? Do you have any idea what this will do to Angus? Does he mean that little to you?”

 

“No, he means that much to me!” I whisper-shouted. “And if I ever do have a chance at a future with him, I’d like my brain intact!” Meg stared at me for a while, then sat back down.

 

“I don’t think I follow,” she said.

 

“Do you remember when I told you my mother wanted me to have a lobotomy?”

 

“Yes,” she said doubtfully.

 

“Do you know what a lobotomy is?”

 

“No, not exactly.”

 

“They put a tiny spatula up through your eye socket into the front part of your brain and then twirl it around a bit—and that’s exactly what my husband is going to have done to me the next time I do anything to upset him.”

 

Her mouth opened in horror. “But surely he can’t do that!”

 

“It appears he can, since he’s got it all arranged. I was diagnosed with a nervous ailment a few years ago, and my mother was entirely nuts. Ellis sold the doctor on the idea without the doctor ever laying eyes on me. All Ellis has to do is make a phone call, and they’ll come cart me off.”

 

“Dear Lord in Heaven,” said Meg. She got up and walked stiffly to the chair.

 

“And you didn’t tell him you asked about a divorce…”

 

“No, thank goodness. If I had, the ambulance would already be on its way.”

 

“And he doesn’t know about you and Angus…”

 

“He suspects something, but certainly not the full extent of it.”

 

She slapped the arms of the chair, startling me. “Then why?”

 

“Money, of course,” I said. “And the really stupid thing is that I brought all of this on myself.”

 

“No,” she said, frowning. “How could you have?”

 

“I was stupid enough to let him know that I don’t believe he’s color-blind. If I tell his father, he’ll cut him off without a penny. So he’s come up with a plan that lets him dismiss anything I say as crazy talk—and, of course, if I were ever foolish enough to open my mouth, he’d make the phone call and take care of the problem. The only thing I can do is try not to upset him until I figure something out.”

 

“No, this is what we’re going to do,” Meg said firmly. “We’re going to get you out of here. Anna’s family will have you, I’m sure of that. Angus will spirit you over later.”

 

“It wouldn’t work. He’d find me.”

 

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

 

“He’d find me and have the rest of you arrested for kidnapping. And, of course, I’d be delivered to a hospital in the back of an ambulance and come back drooling. Drooling, but ever so obedient.”

 

“But you can’t just sit around waiting for it to happen!” Meg said angrily. “It makes no sense!”

 

“You don’t understand. He’d find me. There’s too much money involved—his own family’s fortune is big, but sooner or later he’s going to find out that my father is dead, and there’s an obscene amount of money at stake there.”

 

Meg fell quiet for long enough that I finally turned back to her. Her pale eyes bored through me. She sighed and turned away from me, staring into the empty grate.

 

She obviously knew there was more to it, but what could I tell her? That there was nothing anyone could do to save me that wouldn’t land Angus in prison for life? That his fate lay in the hands of my volatile, feckless husband, and in my attempts to pacify him?

 

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