The Battered Heiress Blues

3





I walked a lap through the downstairs trying to find a task for my hands, before stopping at the front door. Feeling compelled to open it; I reached for the knob, knowing what lay on the other side of the ornately carved wood. Slowly, turning the knob and pulling the door back, I could see the chapel in the distance and imagine his grave. My mind immediately posted a picture of the coffin in the ground and my son covered in dirt. I wanted to run to him, to dig him out with my bare hands, but my feet wouldn’t allow me to clear the threshold. I couldn’t do it alone.

Leaving the door ajar, I stepped out of my black heels, and started making a path through the drawing room, into the dining room, then the kitchen, family room, study, library, and living room. There was the door again. Another lap. The door again. Another lap. The door again. I became obsessive about my new occupation. Eventually, I no longer stopped and looked out toward the chapel cemetery. Finally growing tired of the route, I began to count seams in the hardwood floors. Counting still made me feel calm and in control.

Mental exhaustion finally took its toll and I withdrew to that same chair in the drawing room, sitting and fidgeting with my dress, straightening out the creases over and over again. The wind blowing hard against the house as the sun disappeared rattled the old windows. A storm was brewing. Lightning lit the dark room. My hand nervously twirled a loose curl that had fallen across my face as I rocked back and forth, trying to self soothe.

A car’s headlights danced across the drawing room wall. The motor stopped and a door slammed shut. Within minutes, the figure of a man paused in the open doorway. Henry was back.

“Jewels. Where are you, love? Why is the door open?”

He made a reverse lap, hollering my name, as he proceeded through each room, turning on lights. I wanted to answer him, but I couldn’t. I just kept straightening my dress and twirling my hair.

The bright light of the chandelier had no effect on me. Henry had a look of panic in his eyes. He knelt down and released my hand from its curling motion as I continued to rock.

“Why didn’t you answer me? How long have you been here?”

I couldn’t respond.

“Jewels, have you been here all afternoon?”

I wanted to ease his mind.

“It’s okay. It’s been a long day. You just need some sleep.”

I felt Henry embrace me and my rocking. We moved in unison as one hand held my back and the other was cupped around the back of my head. He was in over his head.

Henry mumbled, not realizing that somewhere deep within me, I was in touch with this experience. “Holy shit Jewels…one of us needs medication.”

I heard that.

“We need to get you to bed. Grab hold of me.”

Forcing my arms around his neck, he lifted me off the chair. Walking to the open door, he kicked it closed before we climbed the staircase to the bedroom.

Once inside, Henry placed me on the bed and unbuttoned my black dress, pulling the sleeves down off my arms and revealing my black slip. Pivoting my body, he slowly laid me back against the pillows, removed my dress, and pulled the comforter over me. Sitting down on the other side of the bed, he took off his watch and dropped his shoes to the floor. He leaned over to kiss me goodnight; his hand pulling the covers up to tuck me in before it gently slid away. I couldn’t bear to be alone. Grabbing his hand, I tucked it under my breast. I wouldn’t let go.

“I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere. Sleep. I’m here. You’re safe.” He leaned down and kissed the side of my face- his body coupled to my every curve. I closed my eyes. I was safe. I could feel my mind go blank as I drifted off

Thunder broke my sleep and I awoke to find my slip drenched in sweat. I couldn’t recall my dreams, but I doubt that they differed from reality. Henry’s hand was heavy on my chest. I turned my head ever so slightly to determine if he was asleep. Thankfully, he was. I wanted to get up and find a dry set of clothes, but I didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, I lay there, in wet clothes, counting the evolutions of the ceiling fan that hung above the bed.

After a period of time passed, anxiety set in. I peeled his hand off my breast and slid it down to his side, waiting to see if he would move. He simply made a noise and turned over, giving me the escape I needed. I was almost free.

Quietly, I opened the door that led out onto the upper veranda. The night sky was a mix of thunder, lightning, and a fine mist of rain. A lightning strike lit the yard and my eyes were once again drawn to the chapel.

The scared feelings that gave me cement shoes before now gave me wings. I yearned to be with Connor. I darted past the bed and down the stairs to the front door, stumbling over a death lily and knocking a book from the foyer table to the floor. I waited, crouched down, listening for footsteps from above. The house remained quiet except for the low rumblings of thunder. I fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on, but nothing happened.

Setting out across the soggy lawn, I sprinted toward the cemetery, as the rain began falling more heavily. I paused, scanning the sacred space for his headstone. The heavy gate slammed shut behind me. Mountains of floral arrangements covered his grave. Descending to my knees, the lighting illuminated his name: Connor Truman Spencer, beloved son, June 15, 2008. Meticulously clearing the flowers, I drove my hands into the dirt, clutching the earth that held him down below. The soil ran down my arms and onto my slip.

All I could do was lay on top of him in a move of protection from the elements. The cold rain pelted my back, but my mind was occupied, playing images of times I would never know: first words; first steps; first day of school; and his first game. In that moment, I was privy to all of them. I was happy. The comfort was quickly replaced by rage. Rising to my knees, I screamed out in anguish to a God that had deserted me.

“How dare you take him from me? He was mine. You had no right. Where were you? Why didn’t you help us? I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you.” My anger was cathartic- it felt good. I threw floral arrangements and rocks at the statue of Christ as I yelled my blasphemies. With one last scream, I fell back to my knees on the loose soil.

I suddenly became keenly aware that I wasn’t alone. A hand lightly touched my shoulder. I must have awoken Henry.

Looking back, I found a strange man staring at me. The rain was beating against his hooded jacket, partially obscuring my view of his face. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. I cared little about what happened to me.

“Are you okay, Mam? I heard you screaming.”

“Jewels. Jewels…” Sounds of yelling demanded my attention from the direction of the house. I turned myself toward the gate and then back to the stranger, but he was gone. I looked around the cemetery, but he had disappeared.

The gate slammed shut and Henry was beside me, pulling me to my feet. Grasping my arms, he gave me the once over to determine if I was injured. He pulled me tightly to his chest, smothering my breath.

“You could have been killed out here. What are you doing?”

“I’m angry.” I held him crying. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m angry too.” He made it a point to pull me back so that I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “But maybe we can be angry inside the house…away from this lightning, huh? Can we go? Let’s go.”

Henry held my hand as we made our way back to the house. My eyes searched the grounds for the stranger as we trudged back. He was nowhere in sight. Henry flipped the light switch and discovered that the power was out.

“I’ll get some candles. Wait here.” He pointed to the very spot I was standing and repeated his command loud and slowly, as if I were impaired in some way. “Wait right here.”

“I’m sad. I’m not deaf.”

He returned with a towel. “You need a hot shower. You’re freezing. Up you go.”

Climbing the stairs felt like the walk of shame. He was the guard. I was his crazy prisoner who got caught sneaking off.

I sat on the side of the tub as he lit candles and started the shower. He turned to me and lifted my arms above my head, pulling off the wet slip that clung to my body.

He knelt down in front of me pulling my panties to the floor. There was no embarrassment. We had a physical history together. I didn’t have the mental capacity to feel vulnerable about my nakedness.

“Tru, I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“You think? You’re starting to scare me, Jewels. I don’t know how to help you. God knows that I’m doing a piss poor job. A tragic thing happened to you, to be sure, but you’ve got to get a grip. You can’t put yourself in harm’s way like this. You’re too important to me.”

I took his face in my hands. “How do I get a grip? Tell me and I’ll do it.” I was desperate for the one answer that would heal this hurt.

“Let’s start with a shower. We’ll figure the rest out.” His tone was reassuring.

He led me into the shower and then removed his soaked suit- the one he had worn to the service and fell asleep in earlier. He walked in behind me. The hot water ran down my body. Henry gently caressed my skin, removing the soil before lathering my hair with shampoo. When he was done, I turned to face him.

“I will be okay. Tell me I’m going to be okay,” I demanded.

“You will be. We’ll get through this together. Give yourself some time. Be patient.”

Henry held me under the water until it turned lukewarm. After drying off and slipping into my robe, he led me back to bed.

“Get some sleep. It’s almost morning. Kate will be arriving soon.”

I nodded while he pulled the covers over me. The image of the stranger popped into my head. I became curious regarding his identity.

“Who was that man in the cemetery?”

“What man?”

“You didn’t see him?”

He looked puzzled and concerned. “No.”

“There was a man. I may be a little off the reservation, but I’m not seeing things.”

“Okay.” Henry tried to sound affirming.

“Okay.” I closed my eyes before I had to see his disbelief.

“Love you.” He left.

I woke from the first restful sleep I had had in months. Rolling over, I hoped my arms would find Henry, but my bed was empty. I pulled myself to the clock- ten. Kate would be arriving shortly.

My feet found the floor. I went into the bathroom to view the damage, expecting to find my face swollen and distorted, but I was pleasantly surprised. Besides the two saddlebags under my eyes, I could pull off plain-not spectacular, but adequate. I surveyed my hair, pulling stray curls vertical, pinning them up to wash my face and brush my teeth.

The knock on the door was measured- Kate. My heart lightened. She slowly pushed it forward as I aggressively pulled it back, landing her on top of me as we fell to the floor.

“Well, that’s quite an entrance,” I roared. “Ouch. My belly.”

We laughed loudly. It was the first ounce of joy I had truly felt. My best friend had arrived, ready for the day in her swimsuit.

“I don’t do anything half-way,” she announced proudly.

She noticed me looking beyond her into the hallway. She answered my question before I had a chance to ask it. “He’s gone.”

“Who?” I wasn’t a girl who played dumb well.

“Who? Whatever. Suck it up. You’re so transparent. He gave me marching orders and left for New York. My brother will be back in three days. Deal.” She pulled herself up and jumped on the bed. “Which rules shall we break first?” She seemed excited at the prospect.

“Was there one regarding alcohol?” I asked.

“That was number one so it should be the first to be broken, don’t you think? Ah…it’s good to see you.” She pulled me up beside her and surveyed my stability.

“It’s good to be seen. Your brother must have told you that I’ve gone mad.”

“He did instruct me to hide the butter knives and toss the razors. Looks like its mushy food and hairy legs for you.”

“I haven’t been myself.”

“He mentioned that. Why don’t we picnic at the beach? Put your suit on. I’ll pack a hamper full of food and booze.”

“I don’t have a suit.”

“Henry told me that, yes, you do have a suit. He instructed me to tell you to look in your drawers and I quote, ‘Don’t make excuses about leaving your room’. So, chop, chop. I’ll be downstairs.”

Kate was my polar opposite in looks and style. She was shorter than me with shoulder length, dark blonde hair, which was stick-straight. She was into fashion and always looked polished whether she was going to sleep or like now, in an expensive bathing suit cover-up that probably came from a couture house in Paris. She was every bit Henry’s sister. The entire Walker family had the look of royals.

I was so thrilled to have Kate in the trenches with me. She busied my thoughts with mindless talk about mutual friends and acquaintances. Our five minute walk to the beach was filled with immense laughter. She took her role as best friend very seriously, vowing to keep me occupied until Henry returned.

The sky was overcast. After we laid the blanket down, and set up the umbrella, we spilled out the contents of the picnic basket. Disappointment washed over my face.

“Beer?” I was thinking of something a bit harder.

“Pace yourself, Jewels. It’s only lunchtime.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Indefinitely.”

“Sounds perfect. How can you manage that?”

“I’m in between jobs.”

“What happened to the magazine gig?”

“I got sick of writing about mundane shit.” She paused and struggled with finding her words. “Who cares? It’s silly stuff, really- of no consequence…nothing to burden you with.”

“Please, burden me. The statement I promised to write for the Chimbote police is due tomorrow. Until then, I don’t want to think about my crappy existence. Let’s talk about your crappy life.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I feel much better about having told my boss to sod off. It seems like the right decision now…getting fired and all.”

“You did what? Does Henry know? He got you that job.”

She shook her head as fear flew across her face. “And you better not tell him either. Same rules apply as they did in college. We take secrets to the grave.”

In an instant, Kate realized what she had said to me. She was speechless- not an easy accomplishment for her. I broke the ice by raising my beer to hers.

“-To the grave.” I hit her brew with mine and her face relaxed a bit.

“I’m an idiot. We know that about me. I’m sorry. What I meant was…”

“I know what you meant. Stop stressing. I can’t have you editing yourself around me. Not you. Everyone else does that right now, but not you. Agreed?”

“So I can say stupid things?”

“Yes, be yourself.”

“Ah, touché.”

We heard the wind snap and our heads turned to the sound. A man and a child were on the boardwalk, near my old, weather beaten, cottage, flying a kite. The beautiful colors of the dragon with its long tail whipped through the air, turning left and then right. The boy’s face was blank- disconnected.

“Who’s that?” Kate inquired.

I was intrigued. “I have no idea.”

“They’re on your property. Are you still renting out the cottage?”

“Yeah, that must be it. The realtor didn’t call, or maybe she did, with me away, I don’t know. Should we go over and introduce ourselves?”

“No. I think no,” she said.

“He’s waving.” Now I felt awkward.

“Maybe he’s hot. It’s too far to tell.”

Kate turned back toward him and waved her best beauty queen wave. I tried to study his face as I returned his glare. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“You have a one track mind. Someday, one day soon, someone is going to steal your heart right from your chest.”

“Well they better hurry before I jump super dad. Do you think he’s married?”

“You are too much. You have the hormones of a teenage boy, Kate.”

“No. I have the hormones of a thirty something gotta have it hottie. There is a big difference.”

“And what’s that.”

“Experience. I know what I have and how to use it.” She looked over to our neighbor. “Ooh, I bet he does too.”

I chugged the beer and lay back, pulling my straw hat over my face.

“What do you think is wrong with the boy?” Kate’s wheels were spinning.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t…just curious.”

“The man probably lives inside of a fish bowl, with people staring at him, using their curiosity as a weapon. It’s unpleasant, trust me. Leave him be. Lay back.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Kate felt the disgust in my tone which I found hard to disguise. We were best friends. She could take it. I moved the hat to the side so she could see my face.

“I know. Everyone is well meaning. It’s just hard living in a glass house when so many people are on the outside holding stones. Not you, but everyone else. You’re the best. You’re outside the glass house with alcohol. Now, lay back. Let’s sun.”

Kate slowly relaxed, turning on her side, pretending to read a magazine so she could spy on them. She thought she was in stealth mode, but her attempt was clumsy. I glanced over and made note of their interactions. The boy didn’t respond to any of the man’s conversation. He didn’t show any interest in flying the kite. He sat on the sand, staring into the liquid blue that filled his mind’s eye. He was trapped somewhere else. I sympathized with his broken compass. The man, however, had a look of genuine contentment on his face, like he wished for nothing better- at least nothing different.

“Are you sure you don’t want to introduce yourself?”

She answered, casually flipping through the pages, “No. He probably has a wife.”

That was that. They stayed for another twenty minutes and then vanished. We didn’t even notice their departure. That was probably the alcohol kicking in. The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking, laughing, and splashing in the wake of the waves.

Henry called to check up on us under the guise of giving Kate a message from her mom. I wasn’t fooled and neither was she. I was pretty sure that he was onto us for breaking rule number one. The conversation was circular like he was trying to trip me up. He felt it necessary to remind me of the statement I had promised to prepare. I brushed him off and changed the subject, but he was adamant that I have it ready and so I agreed- again. Kate was the last to speak, hanging up on him mid sentence, but it mattered little to me. I didn’t have a care in the world.

As the sun went down, we tried to gather our things. Either the sand was very uneven or we were very intoxicated. We stumbled as we walked back to the main house, leaving our stuff just inside the front door. Unanimously deciding to skip dinner for sleep, we pulled each other up the stairs and collapsed in my bed.

“Bloody hell, I have to pee,” she announced.

I started to push her toward the edge of the bed, but she fell off, causing a loud thud which was only trumped by the hideous laugh that ensued.

“What the hell, Jewels?”

Her head poked up above the covers and she looked like she was seeing double.

“Sorry. I didn’t want you to wet my bed. I was trying to be helpful.”

“Well now I’ve peed myself so piss off.”

“Don’t be like that- it was an accident.” I pulled myself to the edge of the bed to make amends, not suspecting that she was out for revenge. The next thud I heard was me being pulled over the edge and crashing onto the hardwood below.

“Now I’m not mad,” she said with a grin.

“Why is the floor wet? Awe Kate.”