When We Lost Our Heads

“Well, my friend, I would like to run away from here too. But like you, I’m feeding on their crumbs. What an absurd world, where genius is dependent on idiocy.”

Animals quite liked Sadie. They listened to her. She had a facility with training them. For whatever reason, when she spoke to them, they cowered with adulation. Perhaps because, secretly, everything wants to be dominated. The rat, who had lived its entire life in exile and infamy, was suddenly domesticated.

She put the rat under her hat. And it snuggled in contentedly as though it were just another curl on a nineteenth-century girl’s head.



* * *





Sadie was late for the meal. Until she arrived, Marie appeared to be intrigued by nothing that went on during the dinner. The white taffeta of her skirt was in heaps around her, as though she had torn herself free from a butterfly net. She was oblivious to Philip and had asked several times after Sadie.

Marie suggested that if Sadie didn’t come back on time, they could have another dinner. Sadie’s mother nodded encouragingly at this proposal. But Louis yawned in lieu of confirming this idea. Louis was wearing a black tailcoat with velvet collars and gold buttons over a silver waistcoat. His blond hair was gelled into a wave that turned up at the side of his face as though he were standing in the wind. Clearly he was bored and had no intention of returning soon. He spent so much time in his mansion that his body had forgotten to follow the rules of social engagement. He really wanted to let out a huge fart. He wanted to take his pants off and fart.

He had a new magic lantern in the house. He wished he were at home, watching the animated slide show of a pretty French girl having her head cut off. That had to wait until the end of the meal, however.

Then at eight o’clock the front door burst open. Sadie entered in a way that drew attention to herself. She stomped into the dining room and paused, almost as though for effect. The way that a famous actor would when coming out from backstage. The maid rushed up to her to take her things. Sadie put her hand up to stop her.

Her mother insisted she come into the room and sit immediately.

“Take your hat off, Sadie.”

Sadie just stared at her mother as she sat down, as though she had never seen her before in her life and couldn’t imagine where her sense of authority came from.

“Sadie has a flare for eccentric costume, as you can see,” Mrs. Arnett said harshly. “Despite what Sadie thinks, not all the habits she picked up in England are commendable. Take off that ridiculous hat, darling. We can barely see your charming face.”

“I would really rather not. I haven’t had time to fix my hair and it’s an unsightly mess. Ungodly, you might say.”

“Don’t be absurd. Sadie has the most beautiful head of luxurious hair. Even when she was a baby. Other mothers couldn’t believe it.”

Sadie had slid into an empty place at the table. “Were you worried you had given birth to a tiny beast? I suppose it’s an entirely hypothetical question, but if you gave birth to a goat, would you drown it or raise it?”

Philip used this pause in the conversation created by Sadie’s absurdity to employ the tactics he had learned in his book of manners. He turned toward Marie.

“I find the new housing being built along the river to be a terrible eyesore,” he said. “Having grown up in a beautiful home, I have no tolerance for hideous structures.”

Marie half-turned to him in reply but didn’t take her eyes from Sadie. “It’s a necessary expenditure. There are boatloads of new citizens arriving every day at the port. There needs to be immediate and affordable housing for them. It’s a necessary expenditure for our factory. And it is an excellent investment. The rent checks of the workers will pay it all back within a few years.”

Philip was silenced, surprised by Marie’s knowledge of the workings of factories. He was about to open his mouth to attempt to say something knowledgeable when his sister interrupted.

“The city is spreading like an infection,” Sadie announced. “It’s like a venereal disease.

“Everybody wants to live the lie that the city offers. Upward mobility. It allows you a new identity. You can change your past and your character. You can go from being a poor person to being a rich person. You can go from being a murderess to being a society girl.”

The mention of murder went through the room like an electrical storm.

Sadie’s father demanded the maid bring in another course, or summon someone to play music, something, anything, to shut his daughter up. Sadie rarely saw him this stimulated. He was standing up and waving his arms about like an emotional orchestra conductor.

“Don’t you want to know the woman you are marrying?” Sadie continued, unperturbed. “It’s interesting. Women are either one thing or the other. I am indisputably wicked and terrifying, and she is sheltered and pure. And yet we are guilty of exactly the same crime. Can’t we all just be a bit of both? I don’t think I was the one who came off the worse in the bargain, to be honest. I rather prefer being accused of being rotten. I think it has really allowed me a greater scope of freedom. I thank the heavens every day that I’m unmarriageable. It saves me from this banal spectacle of courtship. Where two people try to hide as much of their personalities from one another as possible.”

“Take off your hat, Sadie. Stop trying to be deliberately provocative,” her mother insisted.

“May I be excused in order to take my hat off?”

“No. You’ll take it off right this second. I’ve had enough of waiting for you.”

Sadie stared at her mother, smiled politely, and returned her attention to Philip. “I think it’s interesting that we never talk about the duel. I spoke about it so often in Europe. Think about it, Philip. No one will ever accuse you of being boring now. You’ll be marrying a murderess.”

In the middle of the uproar of voices, Sadie whipped off her hat. The rat came tumbling out onto the table.



* * *





Marie’s father seemed remarkably unfazed while riding home in the carriage. The shadows of the trees stretched like stockings being pulled off feet. The cold air was as crisp as an apple that had just been bitten into.

“Don’t worry about anything Sadie said, by the way. The minute a woman starts ranting or raving, no one listens to a word she says. I’ve never understood bitterness in women. Or women who can’t get over a slight. So much shit happened in my life, but I don’t go around bellyaching about it, do I? She acts as though she’s been slighted. The fact was that girl was stark-raving mad as a child. I’m surprised nobody saw it. They were just as mad to bring her back, even if it’s what you wanted. Once a woman has been off on an adventure, they are completely unknowable. They are unpredictable.”

Marie didn’t know what to think on the way home. She was quiet. Sadie was a more extreme, delicious version of herself. Marie was always into the newest things possible. She wanted the newest shoes, the newest dresses, the newest dance moves, the newest care, the newest inventions. And here was Sadie with the newest ideas.



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