Marie felt all the eyes on her as she stepped out of the foreman’s office. Everyone was waiting. They wanted to get a look at her, especially the men in the crowd. She knew they had all been saying the most obscene things behind her back.
She stopped on the platform to look down at everyone. The faces of the men all looked up at her. They were all round and identical. She was giving them their moment to speak to her. If they had any idea how to speak to a woman in power, they might have said something to her that would have changed her stance.
There were wonderful things about her. She had been a beautiful girl. She had been full of life. There was a time when she thought she would have spent her whole life reciting poetry. There was a time in her life where she would have given them anything they asked for. In fact, the night before when it was only the girls at the window, she had been ready to give them what they wanted. But now that she saw all the men mixed in with them, she recoiled. She could not be kind to that class; they spoke of her as though she were an object. She felt the hatred and disgust in the room.
They looked at her as though she were a whore. She accepted their judgment of her. It curdled her blood. She walked along the bridge and down the stairs. The whole time she was thinking they might suddenly cry out at her. But they didn’t say a word as she was walking down the stairs. They didn’t say a word as she was walking out the door. She tilted her head ever so slightly, so her hat covered her face but so it didn’t look as though she were avoiding them. She had effectively turned her back on the women who had come to her window the night before. But they were part of this group who would never love her. She could not separate the women from the rest of the mob of workers. They would be outraged when they found out they had been duped by her femininity. She had effectively declared war against them. And once she left the building, she didn’t look back.
CHAPTER 44
Sadie Arnett’s Head Rolls up a Mountain
After she had been dropped off by Marie, Sadie intended to cut across the market square to go to the brothel. She wanted George to read something of hers and give her feedback. She knew George was writing hysterical diatribes against Marie, but she didn’t assume it had anything to do with her. She wanted to try to win their friendship back. Moments after the carriage pulled away, Sadie saw a woman with white pancake makeup on her face balanced on an upside-down bucket. “They want to work me to the bone. I am a dead factory worker!” the woman yelled. Sadie quite appreciated the insanity of the rebellion. She felt lucky to be in this place at this time. There was a sort of theatricality to it.
She saw a thirteen-year-old girl who had stuffed her dress in a manner that made her look pregnant. “I am giving birth to a child who will go hungry its whole life,” the girl shouted.
Sadie passed by drawings women had made all over the walls. There were drawings of rich men with nooses around their necks. There were drawings of hands with missing fingers with blood spurting out of them. They were using their talents not to seduce men but to demand recognition.
Sadie enjoyed every spectacle very much and considered herself, as a former resident of the Squalid Mile, a participant.
Hearing the noises of a rally, Sadie walked toward it, her cloak wrapped tight around her. It had snowed the night before and she was surprised these were still being held despite the cold. She moved through the crowd toward the podium that had been created by pushing a group of boxes together. Sadie stopped when she spotted George near the podium. She had never seen George look more beautiful. Her hat was off. Her short black hair was blowing up in the air over her head into a pompadour. Her tie was fluttering as though both ends were black birds attempting to mate. George looked stately and important. She had found a way to be famous in her own right.
Sadie was startled when she saw Marie climbing onto the podium wearing a long black wool coat that had a large hole in the elbow. But she quickly realized why she was up there when Mary Robespierre began speaking. That psychopath was hypnotic. But Sadie had recognized her peculiar talent for speaking when they had met.
“They eat sweets and our teeth rot,” Mary proclaimed to the crowd. “We bathe and they are clean and we are still covered in grime. We give birth and we breastfeed their babies, while our children drink horrid water. Our children dance on the street corner and their pockets are filled with the coins they earn. We sew beautiful clothes but we end up in rags. We spend all day putting brand-new soles on brand-new shoes, but there are holes in our own. Our stockings are soaked. Our bodies are cold.
“They take away any meaning to our lives. There is no point to our days. We go through motions all day long. We don’t know why. Only so we aren’t cold, but we are freezing. Only so we aren’t hungry, but we are still starving.
“The law doesn’t allow us to be violent. The law won’t let us get the fruits of our actions. We are puppets on strings. They say we are a tragedy. It makes them feel good about themselves when they see how foolish our theater is.”
She held up her fist in front of her, as though she were staring at an imaginary knife. All the girls in the audience mimicked her gestures.
“I say we take a knife and we cut off those strings.”
She turned her fist to the side and made a swift motion with it, as though she were slitting a throat. All the girls made the same motion.
“What gives them the authority to tell us what to do and what not to do? They are only human. They aren’t gods. They have us believe that when we steal it is a crime. But when they steal, it is for the common good. You say, I don’t not have permission to act this way. That is why I give you permission to do so. I, Mary Robespierre, a woman of the Squalid Mile, gives you permission to fight back.
“If they take away your childhood, take away their old age. If they take away what you have made, take away everything they own. If they take your food, poison it.
“I declare all criminal actions to no longer be such. All crime shall now be considered justice. Crime will be the great reckoning. You are now all bandits. You are lowlifes. You are thieves. You are villains. You are free.
“Let me speak to you now of a traitor in our midst. It is Marie Antoine’s best friend, Sadie Arnett.” Sadie turned red in shock as Mary continued. “She has already professed her love for Marie Antoine in her decadent book Justine and Juliette. They are one and the same. They were raised mere houses away from each other. They played the same make-believe games. All they both ever wanted was power. Sadie Arnett has been infiltrating the revolution. She is a spy. She brings word of everything we do straight to Marie Antoine.”