Although he did not know this, Louis was incapable of having male children. Every time one of his illegitimate children was pushed out of their wailing and hysterical mother’s womb, the midwife announced the arrival of a girl. The mother found herself weeping even more profusely, knowing the baby didn’t stand a chance in the world and would probably end up seduced and miserable like her.
They grew up all over the city. Since Mary was the most common name in Montreal, many of Louis’s daughters were named Mary. Unlike Marie, who lived in the Golden Mile, all the other Marys worked for a living.
There was a Mary who worked with her mother as a leech collector. She waded out into the water with her arms spread as though she were involved in a religious rite. Her little plump body was covered in black leeches, as though she had just grown mustaches in the strangest of places. Her mother yelled for her to stand still. She trembled as her mother pulled them off one by one, dropping them into a jar to sell to the doctor.
There was a Mary who worked as a matchstick maker. She cut matches out of wood, dipped them in phosphorescent, and held them up to dry. There was a rumor that after you did this for a while something quite ghastly would befall you due to the phosphorescence. She imagined one day beginning to glow in the dark and being able to read by her own light. She imagined one day her hair going up in flames like a match. And everyone who had ever slighted her standing before her in fear.
There was a Mary who worked as a chimney sweep. Her mother had cut her blond hair short, so she could pass as a boy. She climbed out of the chimney and was completely covered in soot. Except for her brilliant blue eyes, which shone brighter than those of a boy. She held up her skinny black broom like it was the staff of a general and she coughed out a little black cloud of soot.
There was a Mary who worked with a man who passed as her real father, catching rats. They sold them to dog fighters. They would throw them into rings to fight with dogs. Her father wore leather gloves and picked up rats by the tails. She couldn’t look at their faces. They were filled with so much rage at their predicaments. She had a dream that a rat walked up to her and said, “I hate you.” And she screamed.
There was a Mary who lived with her uncles, who were grave robbers. Her job was to stand at one side of the cemetery and keep watch for any intruders. She had a bell in her pocket. She was supposed to ring it if she saw anyone coming. When they opened a coffin, there was a thin girl with blond hair holding flowers with white petals. The corpse was so fresh the flowers hadn’t even wilted. They were all very careful with the girl’s body because they didn’t want to wake her. They whispered around the corpse. The last thing in the world they wanted was for the girl to wake up and realize she was dead.
One day this Mary would take the bell out of her pocket and ring it. And all the other Marys would rise up from their graves.
Part Two
CHAPTER 16
Marie Antoine Is Apparently a Lady
The ballroom was swarming with marvelously dressed couples dancing to the twenty-piece ensemble playing fanciful tunes at the Midsummer Ball. But no one attracted more attention than Marie Antoine swirling in the arms of the handsome Philip Arnett, brother of the long-lost Sadie.
Marie Antoine was twenty-one years old and the undisputed queen of the Golden Mile. Everything she did was heralded as an event everyone had to attend. All the other ladies wanted to be friends with her and all the young men wanted to marry her.
The crinoline under Marie’s dress had been designed to swing back and forth. It was a crafty design she had thought of herself and had suggested to the dressmaker. Given the price Marie was paying, the dressmaker said anything was possible. But when Marie took a twirl, the crinoline decided it was not done spinning and destabilized her.
There were often accidents whose cause lay in a crinoline. There was a man on hand with a bucket of water for girls who went up in flames. And five especially soft carpets had been placed at the bottom of the stairs for toppling girls.
Marie fell over, and her dress and crinoline went up over her head, making her do a backward somersault, which knocked over the woman next to her, creating a domino effect that caused all the young women to topple over. They all lay on the ground with their legs and arms in the air, flailing like a group of beetles that were stuck on their backs.
Sadie’s brother helped her to her feet. Everyone in the room applauded. Marie held Philip Arnett’s hand and took a little bow. Even falling over seemed enchanting when it was done by Marie Antoine.
* * *
Only a few hours earlier, Marie had been undressed and waiting for the dressmaker to deliver the stupendous outfit she would wear. The only thing she had on was a small oval locket she wore around her neck and never removed. While waiting, Marie was roaming around the house naked. The servants were used to seeing her that way and were no longer shocked. They would walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night to see Marie standing in a tiny undershirt and no drawers eating a bowl of strawberries and cream. The servants didn’t really exist for Marie. She could not consider herself indecent in front of them.
She stopped in the kitchen. She had a sweet tooth. It was surprising that she wasn’t fat since she ate nothing other than sweets. She found all other food boring. She picked up a cupcake on the counter and shoved it into her mouth, trying to eat it all at once. There was pink frosting all over her chin and black cake in her mouth. It was as though she had been buried alive in the ground, screaming with her mouth open. She stood up from the wooden chair, leaving behind two little misty moons that slowly disappeared as she walked away.
She walked down the hallway with an apple stuck in her mouth as though she were a pig. Her father said that she looked perverted. And to go to her room and put something on.
She put on as little clothing as possible. She had a little lace step-in chemise with silk shoulder straps—and a tiny silk pink rose as a top button. You could see the shadows of her nipples and her belly button and pubic hair beneath the white material. She put on a boudoir cap made out of lace with a silk yellow ribbon around it. It was supposed to hold her curls up, but she had so many, and she stomped around so much, they were bound to come toppling down. She put on a little pair of pink slippers that turned up at the toes with golden bells on them. Her father sighed when he saw her again in the parlor half-naked, but he couldn’t help but delight in her utter unselfconsciousness.
She stuck a croissant in her mouth and then leaned over and let her pet pig bite into it. His name was Pitou. She called him Pitou and Tutu and Pipi and Petunia. He would crawl into bed with her. Whenever her father walked into the room, it seemed as though the pig and Marie had just been talking to each other. He had just interrupted a conversation that they were in the middle of having. The pig was wearing one of his bow ties.
This was what happened when a child didn’t have a mother, he thought. They grew up wild. They grew up strange. He hoped marriage didn’t change that. All the maids also wondered how Marie would change once she was engaged.