Darkest Pattern- The Door

by Riva Zmajoki

  “Belva is well,” Josephine said her name loudly and felt joyous, her son observed Josephine as she was mad, maybe she was. “She got wounded. Don’t worry it was just a graze and I helped her.

  Her son lowered his revolver.

  “She said that you would help her, I thought she was just joking with me.”

  “You should trust your mother even when she’s joking with you.”

  “Take me to her.”

  “No,” Josephine shook her head. “We can’t go past the servants. They didn’t realize she’s there till now and it’s best for everyone to stay that way. She’ll come out tonight,” Josephine said confidently not feeling the pain, but content that Belva will have her freedom. “Wait for her behind the house, there is an old shed. Belva will come out of there when it gets dark.”

  “I will kill you if you are lying to me,” her son threatened Josephine but she didn’t fear him, as she didn’t feel fear before Belva in any moment since they met.

  “That probably wouldn’t be a loss for the world,” Josephine said easily. “Still, I doubt that Belva would like for you to become a murderer.”

  “She doesn’t care for your opinion and you don’t know anything of hers,” her son lifted his chin high.

  “Probably,” Josephine got serious again. “Probably not, but she still owes me something.”

  The man nodded calmly, that was the language he could understand.

  “I will wait for her,” he disappeared into the trees.

  Josephine looked after him for some time more. If there is a son, there must be a man who is in charge of counting the kisses she gives away. Josephine sighed thinking of the angry man coming to scorn her. Let him come. Surely, he won’t be worse than an insulted girl who just destroyed a whole world of lies.

  The fear finally made Josephine move, the fear that Belva already left. While she went back towards her castle she couldn’t help but think of it as a golden cage made for her to sit in.

  On the door, she came across the girl who was just leaving. Major-Domo carried her bags behind her.

  “You’re leaving my dear,” Josephine smiled with glee thinking of Belva who was waiting for Josephine to set her free.

  The girl stopped confused, indecisive, on the verge of hope that Josephine is just playing with her.

  “The message for my aunt, did it change?” she hesitated.

  “The message stays the same, we’re done. I won’t tell either of you to come to visit me again. Still, I do wish you a safe journey home,” Josephine nodded and went inside.

  While she brushed pass her Josephine noticed her open mouth, but mercifully she didn’t say anything more.

  Josephine felt relief with that end. Let them stop coming through Josephine’s door, they didn’t come in with clean hearts anyway. They came in to use Josephine, as she used them as well, cheated and seduced. Let Belva leave too and Josephine will be able to gain weight in peace, to let her greys be seen, her skin to wrinkle and all those awful things she always feared before. Let them come, she’ll do embroidery, stare through the window and open a shelter for orphans, or something like it, anything but seducing.

  Lost in those thoughts she just grabbed a dress from the maid’s closet. The white uniforms seemed too small for Belva, Sue’s might fit and her black dress seemed much more appropriate for a runaway. She didn’t even care that Sue saw her do it. Undoubtedly she’ll just think that Josephine needs it for her own perverse purposes.

  “Bring me a plentiful lunch to my anteroom,” Josephine ordered her not breaking her stride.

  4.1 The Light

  Charcoaled House

  Sue Preston had seen many things since she was in the service of her mistress but none of them was targeted directly at her so she bowed her head stared at the floor and pretended that she can’t see nor understand things that were happening around her.

  Still, when her mistress started to act out of character towards her, she began to be considerate, Sue felt fear.

  There were rumours about the mistress and some maids that ran away. Wilhelmina in the village was more than willing to share her accusations with remaining maids.

  “She stole my Carol from me,” Wilhelmina would say. “First, she made me do her wicked chores and then she turned him against me, but one day, he’ll get wise and get back to me.”

  Sue never believed her stories, they seemed exaggerated but in any gossip. Especially, considering Carol’s cold nature, Wilhelmina’s stories but her mother always said that to any story there was a grain of truth, something that started it.

  Sue held herself strong but when she saw her mistress taking her dress in secrecy Sue lost it.

  In the dark rooms, she witnessed many things but she had no strength to handle the strangeness that was their mistress.

  Not knowing what to do, she cried before other maids. The two of them, Cynthia and Tricia, were by her side through all of her troubles not once bashing her for her unfortunate choices.

  “Hide,” Cynthia said. “Just hide until it rolls over. She’s frivolous. Whatever she thought of it’ll pass in a day or two.”

  “True,” Tricia added. “One time she wanted to eat pears. Until we got them from the market she already stated that she hates pears. Luckily for us, they tasted divine.”

  “But where would I hide?” Sue was desperate. “I can’t go far in this condition,” she gestured towards her belly.

  They fell in silence observing her stomach.

  “The stables, she never goes to see the horses, the coachman is drunk most of the time, and he won’t even notice you. We’ll bring you food.”

  That’s how Sue ended up sleeping on the straw in an empty compartment. Once upon the time, this estate had horses that could be envied, now only a few rags for pulling the carriage remained.

  The coachman didn’t show any interest in her presence in the stables.

  The food came but Sue felt miserable.

  She had no desire to give birth among horses.

  In the evening, things finally started to move in the right direction. The girl didn’t seem too fragile for a mistress to touch her.

  Carol stood at his position from where he could see but can’t be seen. He stood guard so other staff wouldn’t interrupt the scene.

  For him, the scene was perfect. He looked at it many times and appreciated all the subtle work that happened behind the scene. Soon she’ll reach out and touch her neck.

  Carol anticipated redness that will cover girl’s cheeks, the right kind of redness. Soon it appeared. Everything went well but then his mistress withdrew.

  Carol was confused by her move as much as the girl was.

  Why did she stop her advances? What could make her give up on all that young beauty?

  In the morning, instead of fixing her mistake his mistress made it worse.

  She sent their guest on her way with a mean message to her aunt. Carol couldn’t even object, not directly.

  He complied darkly carrying the girl’s bags. The only hope he had was that his mistress came up with a new tactic.

  She was known to be creative with girls. Maybe this was her way of getting more attention.

  Carol surely hoped so.

  ‘The mistress is the light we follow,’ the master said when Carol asked why they never act on their own. ‘She knows to find a flame that burns. Those who don’t want her, they have no flames to harness, they are unmovable and cold, they have nothing to relish in.’

  4.2 The Enemy

  White Phoenix

  Cynthia was lifting a heavy bucket with water when she felt a warm liquid run down her tights.

  There was a pain in her stomach but she finished her job and filled the basin before she lifted her skirt just to discover the blood running down her legs.

  The pain in her stomach was unlike anything she experienced in her life. She fell to the floor and cried silently holding her stomach. She had no voice to cry out for help. The pain took her voice.

&nbs
p; When they found her, the pain was at its peak.

  “What did you do, you wicked girl?” the nun said leaning above her. “You weren’t pure enough to even serve as a vessel for a child. Who will clean that up?”

  The pain lasted the whole day and at the end of it, the baby came out of her dead and immovable.

  She didn’t want to look at the baby.

  “At least you have the decency to cry,” the nun said and Cynthia didn’t tell her that she cries from relief.

  If she lives, she’ll do something with her life, something worth all of this suffering.

  Tricia approached the tall white pillars. The house looked rich and respectable. She had no hope that she will be received here but it was her last hope before she tries will the river take her.

  At the door, the snobby Major-Domo looked down at her and she thought that he’ll just throw her out.

  “This way,” he gestured without even asking her a thing.

  She was led into a big bright room with tall windows and white curtains. All of the furniture was painted white and in the middle was a lady all lavishly decorated in a wide skirt and with slick hair.

  The lady took a look at her and smiled widely. It was forever since anyone smiled at Tricia so she returned the smile feeling weak in her knees. She feared that she’ll fall down and cry.

  “Aren’t you adorable?” the woman measured her up and down. “But don’t worry, you’re not quite my type. Short and sturdy is a good for a maid though. You are a new maid?”

  “I hope so, mistress,” she bobbed a curtsy.

  “I do too. Give her something to wear and let her bathe. I don’t stand for my servants to be anything less than clean. Don’t worry, water won’t kill you and no one will spy on you in the lavatory for servants. Go on then, Major-Domo will see for which tasks you’ll fit.”

  Tricia withdrew feeling lightheaded.

  In the kitchen, she started to cry. The cook patted her on the head.

  “Don’t think that crying will get you anywhere around here but a good smile might carry you miles. Still, not too wide. The lady tells every girl that comes in that she’s not her type but from her guest I’ve seen that woman has no type, everything is good to her.”

  It took Tricia a while to understand what that meant.

  As he entered York searching for a job, Santos was careful but confident. His face fit in his surroundings. He had his papers of a free man and has never committed a crime in his life.

  He had no reason to fear for his freedom or safety.

  People looked at him with curiosity on the street.

  It seemed to him that jobs were everywhere but his grandma wanted to keep an eye on the Federal Marshal. She wanted to know what he’s up to and is one of their stations compromised.

  More precisely, she was worried that the Station Master will be betrayed.

  Santos came to the main square and observed buildings and shops. None of the shops looked directly at the sheriff station. It seemed silly to spend his days running errands and not being able to see the station and hear conversations.

  That’s why he approached the station an offered his services.

  “I can do all the chores, maybe you need an errand boy.”

  “We need no one,” the local sheriff was already sending him off but, from the office, exited the Federal Marshal.

  “Let’s take a walk,” he said to Santos after he examined him up and down.

  The Marshal was a tall man. There was a commanding strike to his nature. He seemed like someone who you could either respect or hate.

  Santos had to hurry to follow his fast stride.

  Soon, they were at the road walking out of the town. Santos followed the Marshal with curiosity and without fear.

  The Marshal stopped at the crossroad.

  “There, at the end of this road is a white house on a plantation. The plantation is called the White Phoenix. Offer to the lady of the house to be their errand boy. If you succeed, I’ll grant you a federal pay as my secret deputy.”

  Santos looked down the road.

  “What do I have to do to earn that pay?”

  “A smart boy. Smarts are good. You need to inform me if they are doing anything illegal. Anything at all. In fact, I want to know everything about everything they do.”

  Santos thought about it. It was silly really, to be assigned to spy on their own station. Santos hesitated because he tried to stifle laughter.

  “Maybe they won’t want me,” Santos said finally. “What then?”

  “If they refuse you, I’ll make you a deputy,” the Marshal said firmly. “Then you’ll go and spy on them with a badge to show to them.”

  “If I don’t get back, I got the job,” Santos said and started to walk but the Marshal grabbed his arm.

  “What?” Santos turned around.

  Marshal looked him with suspicion in his piercing blue eyes.

  “Won’t you ask me my name first?”

  “Everyone in town knows about Luiz Terdreau Federal Marshal. I doubt that there are more of you out here. The crime isn’t really prominent out here in the country.”

  “Too smart might be bad for you,” Luiz’s eyes went small.

  “I know, mother always claps me on the head because of it although she’s much smarter than I am.”

  “What’s your name boy?”

  Santos stiffened a bit when Luiz called him ‘boy’.

  “Santos de la Cruz,” he said stiffly.

  Grandma told him not to use their family name, Durant. Santos felt bad because of it but he refused to use another name to replace his father’s, it would be like he’s denouncing him as his mother did.

  “Just de la Cruz?” Luiz still held his upper arm firmly.

  “Yes,” Santos held his ground.

  “Good fathers are hard to come by,” Luiz said and released his grip. “Run along. Report back to me as soon as you can.”

  Santos nodded and went down the road towards the White Phoenix. He was interested to see their station from up-close.

  By the description of runaways, it seemed grand.

  4.3 The Posse

  Between Tiles

  Nothing was right about Evan’s mother when she exited that house. She was a different woman.

  The night was almost ending when she came out.

  Evan was on the verge of giving up and just storming on that plantation to find out the truth.

  That plan had many holes in it.

  He already gave that woman plenty of time to call upon patrolmen and they all might just be sitting there waiting for him to make a stupid move an impulsive man would do.

  Finally, his mother appeared making noise.

  “Mother,” he whispered risking it all but it was like he can recognize her movements in the dark.

  “There you are,” she sighed sounding sad. “Let’s go. We must go away from here. It’s not safe in this county. Let’s get back to Charlotte. That piece of the rails is safe for us to conduct it.”

  “Yes,” Evan agreed and grabbed her arm and led her up north. “We can’t go back this way, our cover was blown, and we’ll be recognized if we try this route again.”

  “Alright,” she just let him lead which wasn’t in her nature, she would always lead on.

  His mother also gave up easily on this part of the rails. Those were the first alarming occurrences in her changed behaviour.

  His mother would never yield. She always demanded to know who recognized them, how he knows and insisted that there must be a way to go around it.

  “It’s sorrowful to leave all these people without hope,” Evan grumbled dissatisfied with her reaction.

  “There’s hope,” his mother sighed. “We just have to weave a song that includes this plantation as a safe ground and then wait for them on the other side of the border. There will be enough pointers for them to reach the gathering point.”

  “Are you mad?” Evan stopped appalled. “That is a slave owner right there. You’
ll just be sending them fresh slaves that they don’t have to pay.”

  “Don’t be silly the lady would never do that,” his mother said easily and walked on.

  Evan paused shocked by the mere trust his mother placed in that stranger.

  After a few seconds, he moved forward determinant to avoid using any kind of slave owner’s homes to free slaves.

  Even if they helped his mother, that was surely for some greater sinister goal. They might even try to take down their whole rail that they placed so carefully.

  His mother should be more alert than to fall for their rouse.

  Luiz trained his dogs to the smell of the scarfs. He didn’t hope to accomplish much but the exercise gave him comfort. It was like he would be granted a retaliation after all this time.

  If Belva had any business in these parts it must be connected to all those missing slaves. There was no other explanation.

  Who else would be bold enough to walk through his yard as it wasn’t protected?

  The dogs jumped on a few unsuspecting women but nothing much happened until it did.

  “Those damn dogs,” his deputy came in. “They scared two people in the woods and still don’t want to stop barking. What did you feed them?”

  Luiz jumped up.

  “What two people? How did they look like?” he was already fastening his revolver.

  He was sure, his gut was sure even before the description came.

  “Into the woods, men,” he shouted. “We got ourselves some slave-robbers to catch.”

  They gathered around and Luiz could feel them near. The road was blocked. There was nowhere to go.

  He was personally leading the posse. Luiz could hear Belva’s pant before them as they ran uphill. He ran faster than his men and got on the top just in time to see her face pointing her gun at him. He fired instantly, there was no way that she’ll kill him too.

  He could see his bullet hitting her side and then she fell. Luiz stood on the edge of a cliff and everyone stood still before the drop.

  “There must be a way down,” Luiz shouted.

  The fall seemed deep. Surely, she died. If she did, Luiz had no desire to follow her in death but he needed to see the body.