Marigold

by Heather Mitchell Manheim

  Finally, they entered the common room for the wives. Davis’s first emotion was a shock. The outfits. Even with Davis’s dress, she was unprepared to see a whole group of women without plain tunics and jodhpurs. Everyone was in a beautiful, intricate gown. Davis guessed hers was the most elaborate, but a sea of silk and tulle surrounded her in purples, pinks, blues, and greens—all royally appointed shades. Intricate lacework on some, embroidery in gold and silver on others. Large ballgowns, like hers, with large hoop skirts underneath. They were bustled and bowed intricately. Lavish diamonds, gems, gold, and platinum embellished the ladies. They were literally dripping in tiaras, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. Although her mind had changed a lot on President Everett over the last few weeks, she could barely believe that President Everett, who talked of having a world where everyone had equality, was adorning his wives this way. Every one of them in old-fashioned, elaborate, and expensive dresses. The word “dresses” was distilling it down, “torture devices” seemed more accurate to Davis. This corset, heels, and fiercely-shaped bodices had thick wires and stiff fabric, holding things into a “perfect” shape.

  Davis recognized Lisa, Rebecca, Jessica, Sunshine, Tiffany, and Amanda and just tried to focus on them so she could steady her thoughts and balance. Everyone hurriedly tried to get out the standard greeting of “We are the people, and the people are we.” Because of that and the multitude of layers of fabric everywhere, Davis almost didn’t see President Everett centered between the women. They were sitting and sort of forming a semi-circle around him, as he sat in the middle and back of the odd group. When it was apparent Davis realized he was there, they all turned their necks to look at him adoringly.

  Everett spoke first in his relaxed, calm demeanor that could almost make an icy heart melt. “Welcome, Davis. We need to give you a new name.” Davis noted to herself that Everett did not say, “We are the people, and the people are we,” as everyone else had. But that’s not why Davis interrupted him. However, when she did, she heard a gasp from Cox and noticed looks of shock on all the wives. “Can I request Amelia?”

  Everett closed his eyes for a moment, then paused as if he spoke to a young child who did not understand something. “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. I’ve already picked Delilah, and all of your monograms have been done in D already.” The way he looked at Davis made her realize this was the final word. He continued, not letting her get a word in, “Delilah, I was planning on having dinner with you tonight. But it won’t be possible now. I have to address some other issues. We will get married tomorrow; your dress, jewelry, and shoes are selected; your soon-to-be sister wives and Cox will help you get ready tomorrow.”

  He sounded determined but not cold and calculating. There was a strange warmness to him, and Davis had to admit he had a je ne sais quoi, a certain something that made him appealing. It went beyond his handsomeness; it seemed like when he looked at you with his chestnut-brown eyes, he was looking into your heart and saying I know you, and I care. It felt like a peaceful, loving quality surrounded him, and Davis saw how people got so effortlessly snowed over by him. Even Davis quickly waved away the short-lived condemnation that she received from him when she had requested Amelia to be her name. She almost immediately found herself thinking it was a simple mistake or maybe even her fault. As he got up and walked out the door, he lightly touched Davis on the arm and, and even though she was ashamed of herself for it, it made her stomach do a little flip.

  When Davis turned back to the room, several thoughts were going through her head all at the same time. Mainly that she was getting married tomorrow, so she would have to act quickly. She was promptly distracted when Tiffany turned around and picked up a little monkey that was hiding behind her skirt and had been tugging on the hem to get attention.

  “This is one of our capuchin monkeys, Parker. He’s very friendly.”

  Davis took a look at the diminutive monkey. His cute cream-colored face had a darker crown of fur on the top of his head. His beady little black eyes were not malicious but made him seem almost as if he had stepped out of a cartoon. A little pink nose twitched as if he were trying to figure out a difficult problem. Davis held out her finger to Parker, and he took it in his slender blackish-brown fingers. Davis felt comforted by the warm, subtle grip and went to pat the back of his head with her other hand. Parker gave off a short but sharp sounding squeak, which made Davis jump back slightly, but all Parker was trying to do was climb over to Davis’s arms. He seemed disappointed that she had stepped away. As soon as she realized, she stepped back and again held her arm out. Parker tentatively took it and then clambered over to her with caution. However, once he was in her arms, Parker gave a friendly sounding little squeak and reached up, playing with the ends of Davis’s hair for a minute.

  She quickly realized she didn’t know what to do with the monkey in her arms. Besides Parker being cute, there wasn’t much she could do, nor was there anything to say to Parker. She decided to turn her attention back to the ladies. “So, it is nice to see you all again. Can you maybe show me where I’ll be sleeping, and if it’s okay, a little tour of our different rooms?”

  “Of course,” Lisa replied with a friendly smile.

  Tiffany took Parker back and said she would put him in the zoo’s capuchin cage and be back shortly. She then added, “On afterthought, I’ll carry him with me through the tour. Then we can go have a little tour of the grounds and the zoo as well.”

  The entrance door Davis had come through a few moments before had led to a foyer, tiled in blue marble. They were standing just past that, in what looked like the entry into the library. And that is where the girls started. They showed Davis—well, they kept calling her Delilah, and Davis was trying to get used to it—the wall of books. Davis ran her finger over some of the spines, all very classic looking books with rich leather binding and gilt edges. The bookshelf reached from top to bottom and ran the entire length of the wall, maybe about forty feet long. At the end, there were large bay windows with cushioned window seats and royal blue window coverings with the monogrammed E in gold thread in the middle. Several large plush, comfy looking chairs were a light blush color and looked as if climbing into them would be the equivalent of climbing into a billowy cloud. They then pointed to a large table in the middle of the library; Davis had to stifle a laugh because there was a large inlaid golden E in the middle of the table. Well, he is just everywhere, isn’t he? she thought.

  Afterward, the ladies showed her where to get an entertainment console and how to pull up virtually any movie, book, or piece of music she wanted. Although Davis was familiar with it from the hospital stay, she kept quiet and let them teach her. They gave her a quick peek at the kitchen, so to speak. It was small and had glass-covered cabinets that held plates and cups. It was definitely not a kitchen to prep in; it had no stove or sink. Only a drinking water dispenser and some drawers labeled to show where they kept utensils, plates, cups, and napkins. Rebecca pointed to a silver box and told Davis that nutrition biscuits came up from the kitchen via the dumb waiter. Otherwise, the kitchen was unremarkable; yes, it was clean, tidy, and white. There was not a speck of dust seen; the only color and sound was the humming blue light above. To the right of the kitchen was a little hallway, painted a sunny yellow. Going from the white to the yellow made Davis feel overwhelmed by the differences between the Palace and the Pods. President Everett was allowed to live in luxury and a world of magnificent color. Everyone else lived in a dull world. So much for equality, Davis thought. She noticed toward the top of the ceiling, where the yellow wall met the blue light, it made a sickly-looking shade of green. Davis thought it was appropriate that at least one thing in Everett’s world should look vomity. Laughing to herself, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed this color in other rooms. Perhaps the more opulent colors absorbed the blue light better and, in many cases, covered it all together.

  At the end of the hallway, to the left, was an immaculately
clean white-tiled bathroom. The group only peeked in there, but one side had a row of sinks and a wall-length mirror. On the other side, a dark wooden brown tower held piles of fluffy white towels, and a rack held luxurious white bathrobes. At the back of the restroom, one side had a row of four showers, the doors covered with a thin opaque-white curtain. The other side had four toilet cubicles, the doors made of the same fine wood as the towel holder and robe rack.

  To the right of the hallway was the bedroom she would share with the wives in her group. A rich burgundy color covered the wall in the room. There was a bed for each wife; all brown wooden beds, albeit small, were piled high with a sumptuous thick white comforter and several pillows. Davis realized right away many of those pillows would end up on the floor. She choked on her laugh when she saw the large E embroidered right in the center of her comforter. That wasn’t the only laugh she had to hold back. On the other side of the room was an immensely large painting of President Everett. Almost as large as the wall itself. It featured the President as a general of some sort. A black peaked cap was atop his head, and he wore what looked like a very traditional black, blue, and red general’s outfit. Gold stripes ran down the length on each side of the pants, and golden epaulets capped his shoulders. Medals adorned the entire left breast of the jacket. In the top left corner of the painting, angelic creatures with trumpets looked down toward Everett with looks of reverence. In the top right was a golden shield, the emblem of the United State. The shield was divided into four sections. On the top left, a dove with wings outstretched and an olive branch flew. On the top right was the national flag, which had not changed since it was redone by President Everett about ten years prior. While the actual flag of the United State was a red background with a large blue star in the center and a smaller white star in its center, in the painting on the shield, everything was gold, with shading to show depth and layering. The lower left quadrant showed a bald eagle, an homage to the old United States. Lastly, in the lower right was the symbol “” representing om and the peace that was supposedly abundant in the United State, as well as representing President Everett’s dedication to not only practicing yoga but teaching it to others.

  The entire background of the painting, clearly a battlefield, was confusing to Davis. The battle was showing President Everett victorious and triumphant after combat. But, there never was such a battle; Everett became President because it was presumed that he rescued everyone from the Lombardi Plague. She didn’t understand this scenery, but it’s not what shook her to her core. What did was what lay at the feet of the President. There were all the wives, looking up to him in admiration and adoration. Davis spied Ruby leaning up against his right leg. All the wives were in various states of leaning against his legs or in a side bent sitting position. Regardless of position, they were all staring at him, not just with love but looks of obedience. Cox leaned over and, with a grin, whispered to Davis, “You’re to be added to the portrait. The artist is amazing, he’ll just find a place for you, and you’ll cover up part of the battle background. You won’t even be able to tell!” Davis thought that Cox almost sounded gleeful at this. But Davis wasn’t laughing anymore. Now she just felt sick to her stomach.

  ~

  After they showed Davis where her bed was, she was able to survey her little space. The area was only about ten feet by ten feet. Besides the bed, she had a little brown chair and a small brown bedside table with a drawer at the top of it. A fuzzy, cozy-looking burgundy blanket was draped over the chair back.

  “Delilah. Delilah. DELILAH!” Jessica tried to get Davis’s attention, trying several times until Davis finally remembered she was Delilah now.

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot my name!”

  “It’s okay; it takes a while to get used to the new names. You’ll get it. Tiffany had something to do, so I’m going to put Parker back in the monkey cage. Do you want to see the zoo? I’ll show you our closet and dressing area on the way out so that you can change into a more comfortable outfit.”

  “Sure, sounds good, thank you.”

  “No problem, by the time we get back, it should be time for dinner. Then we usually sit around and chat for a bit or read before going to bed.”

  On the way out, they went through the bathroom. There was a door on the inside of the bathroom to the left of the towel rack. “It’s kind of weird,” Jessica said as they walked through it and into a supply closet. There was another door inside the closet that led to the dressing room. It was somewhat uninteresting; all the walls were white, and all the furniture was brown. A blue tinge from the light above bathed the room in a bluish glow. There were large closet spaces that had all the clothes hanging. Each closet space had a name above it, and Davis spotted a “Delilah” placard already above her area. A closet full of clothes that belonged to her but she had never worn before now hung there. Davis spied her knapsack, hanging there; someone had put it away in the closet for her. Davis wished she could check it for the bee venom vial again.

  “Excuse me, but can I look in my knapsack? I want to see if I brought my comb.”

  “Oh, we have plenty of those here for you to use.”

  “I’d still like to check if it’s okay.”

  “Oh, yes! Of course, please do.”

  Davis was glad her thin lie didn’t raise suspicions. She quickly looked inside and felt the pocket to make sure her precious cargo was still there. The reassuring little bump comforted and caused her anxiety at the same time. She still couldn’t believe she would have a hand in murdering someone. And the portal to that dark world sat in a secret pocket, hanging from a hook in a closet. Davis felt the location wasn’t very secure, but at the same time, she had nowhere else to put it. She had to push it all out of her mind and carry on. To complete the act she was currently portraying; she confirmed she remembered her comb and then feigned interest in the rest of the room.

  When they got into the dressing room, Jessica put Parker down, and the little monkey busied himself swinging from the edge of the bench that ran along the room’s length up to the two privacy walls at the back of the room. Davis, at a loss for conversation, asked about them. Jessica answered, “We usually take turns behind the walls when we’re getting dressed in our jodhpurs or nightclothes. But, when we are in the ball gowns, we need to help each other with corsets, zippers, buttons. Cox is usually here to help us too. Get your casual clothes and put them behind the privacy wall first. Then, I’ll get the zipper at the back of your dress, and you get mine. I think you can manage, but let me know if you need help changing.” Jessica also showed Davis where her jewelry chest was so that she could take off all her accompaniments. Then, Jessica had Davis turn around and hold the top front of her dress up. Jessica unzipped the back and said, “You have a corset, too; I think I can loosen it enough through the unzipped opening. Let me know if you need it loosened more after you go in to change.” It proved to be enough, and Davis was happy to finally be out of the heavy gown and into a comfortable tunic, jodhpurs, and boots. Next, Davis returned the favor and unzipped Jessica’s dress, and then she went to change as well. Once they were both changed, they continued their tour.

  They walked through the changing room to yet another door on the other end. Davis had somewhat expected this after her conversation with Namaguchi. “This door leads to our exercise room.” Davis took in the exercise room; it was spotless and very modern looking, especially compared to the luxury of most of the rest of the Palace. A gleaming dancer’s bar sat on a wall covered in mirrors. Jessica pointed out the different aerial apparatuses that were hanging from the ceiling. “We have the gym every day from 5 a.m. to 9 a.m. They have aerial classes or dancing classes on most days. Other days, we use the equipment. And of course, we start our day following along to President Everett’s yoga video.” Davis looked around again. She didn’t know much about exercise equipment, but there seemed to be several types of machines, floor mats, hand weights, and different ropes and bands hanging
neatly on the wall. Davis also noticed the four other brown doors that were in the exercise room. In the center of the room, the exit to the main hallway had sizeable frosted glass doors. Davis wanted the second wood door to the left of that glass door; that’s what Namaguchi had told her.

  Finally, after leaving the exercise room, Davis and Jessica made their way out to the zoo area. First, they put Parker in with the other capuchin monkeys. There were seventeen monkeys in total. Davis was impressed with how large and spacious their cage was, how many things they had in their cage, and how many playthings they had. Different ladders to climb on and a rope course across the top of the cage. A large tree with lots of foliage and little sleeping bins they could pop into if they wanted to. Davis wondered to herself how someone could have evident compassion for animals and, at the same time, have such a mean streak toward humans.

  After dropping Parker off, they went by the macaw cage, and again, Davis was stunned by the cleanliness of the aviary; the space was large and had several trees and bare branches for the birds to perch on. They even had a large rock waterfall flanked by gorgeous tropical plants and flowers. “Those flowers are beautiful,” Davis said.

  “They’re fake,” answered Jessica. “President Everett is allergic to bees, so there are no real flowers here. I wish we had a flower garden, but we can’t. You won’t even have flowers to decorate your wedding. He takes no chances.”

  Davis could have kicked herself for mentioning flowers; she had forgotten. She shouldn’t risk in any way the plan getting discovered. Davis noticed Jessica sounded a bit disgruntled about the flowers. She decided to change the topic in hopes of leaving the talks of flowers behind. “Mmm hmmm…by the way, can I ask? You called him ‘President Everett,’ and it occurred to me that I don’t know his first name. Does he have one? Do we ever use it?”