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Darkest Pattern- The Door

Page 27

by Riva Zmajoki


  Belva sat down to write a letter to her son, the one he can read even if their paths never meet again. It was important for her to write that letter because in it she gave herself permission to live on.

  Belva did many mistakes but now she knew where she wronged her son the most. She kept him near and tried to protect him even when he should have been a man of his own. She was just like her father.

  When she saw her runaway husband on the other side of the street, it hurt like Hell. It felt like a betrayal but years have passed for him too. Her father didn’t let her make her own mistakes sentencing Evan and Belva to be prisoners in their own home.

  In their flight, Belva kept holding Evan near making all the decisions, keeping him from falling, from finding his own path.

  “Here,” she gave the letter to Luiz. “When you see him give him my love.”

  “What do you mean?” Josephine looked at her confused. “You won’t go down to save your son? You saved so many why would you leave him to die?”

  “He might already be dead. He might die as we speak. He might die when I enter the train. No one can guarantee me that I would find him. He could just now be free somewhere else. I can’t know that. All I can do is to hope and pray that he’ll be well. He and my grandson are grown-up men. They now choose their own paths and I must choose mine.”

  “What will be your path?” Josephine asked fearfully.

  “Our path, if you’ll have me,” Belva said firmly. “We’ll go north and find a place to open our own tailor shop. There I can sow and you can charm costumers and talk all day. What do you say?”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Josephine nodded.

  “What will you do?” she turned to Luiz.

  “Back home,” he said looking at the letter. “My job is waiting for me.”

  “Don’t go and do something rash,” she put her hand on his shoulder. “Your brother is who he always was. Don’t waste your life fighting him, he would only rejoice in your anger and you’re not wicked enough to kill him.”

  “Aren’t I? Aren’t I wicked from the start,” he looked at her with sadness in his blue eyes. “You should be mad at me. It was me who seduced your son. If I didn’t, he would never... You should be angry at me for bringing all this misery at you.”

  “You’re not wicked. You never were. Santos told me stories about you honestly because we never told him the whole story. He told me that you treat your men well and that you respect your prisoners. He likes you. That’s easy. I know I always was fond of you even when I thought that I should hate you.”

  Belva hugged Luiz one more time and he was on his way. There was nothing much she could do for him. He had to find a way to survive this. She hoped that he will. In the end, that is what freeing slaves taught her. She was helpless in preventing suffering, in stopping destiny from unfolding. All she could do was to be mindful of her own path and help out when she could.

  “Why did you give him the letter when there is such small chance that Evan will reach him?” Josephine asked her quietly.

  “To give him purpose. I doubt that it will be enough,” she said sadly. “But sometimes small things are enough to bridge the dark times. Maybe a mission will keep him alive for long enough, long enough for the pain to subside.”

  “You’re too good, how can you be so good?” Josephine was crying.

  Belva looked her in wonder.

  “What did I do?”

  “You just got up from depths of despair that would kill most and found a way to console a boy who did cause your life to crumble.”

  Josephine was ready to let Belva go. She was ashamed before her own selfishness. But then Belva got up and turned everything around refusing to give in to despair.

  Luiz went out as quickly as he came in. The only evidence of his intrusion was the mess he made in his fit of rage.

  “My life would crumble this way or another,” Belva said calmly. “Without father to protect us, they would try something sooner or later. Leopold was just a convenient scapegoat, someone to take the blame from them and force me out of their vicinity. No hunt was made because they didn’t want for me to be caught and for Evan to be returned home. It suited everyone that we stay away.”

  Josephine looked around the ruined room.

  “We should get a move on,” Belva said. “Before the staff sees the state of this room.”

  “Of course, if Luiz followed us so could others.”

  “No,” Belva said lifting up the turned over table. “I don’t think others are as motivated as he is. It will be nice to walk around and not look around my shoulder. I’ve thought of him as an enemy for so long that it’s hard to adjust to the fact that he was the target of our misery that we were just collateral. Still, when I see Evan again, I’ll slap him across his stupid face. How could he hide such a big secret before me? Anyone else could see them. For all I know, his father just tried to protect his stupid son. Young people are so stupid.”

  “Love is like that,” Josephine said quietly. “They aren’t so different than we are.”

  Josephine tried to soften her anger. If she’s mad at them she will be mad at Josephine too.

  “Yes, they are,” Belva said angrily. “He had a mother he could trust and he chose to have a secret so big before me.”

  “Are you sure that you would understand then?” Josephine sat on the bed that didn’t provide shelter. “He was protecting you too. What you didn’t know you couldn’t worry about.”

  “I would understand enough to tell him not to do it, not to risk so much. For what, for that white boy who wasn’t smart enough to keep secrets before his crazy family. That brother of his was feared before when he had ten. It was like their father breaded them to be violent bastards,” Belva said fiercely and Josephine felt sorrow.

  Josephine too was raised to be cold and detached, to despise the world she was born into.

  “Then what was it that made Luiz different? Why isn’t he a violent bastard? He wrecked this room but didn’t touch us. He did threaten me but didn’t act on it. He didn’t send men with torches at us. He didn’t start rumours and he could. Easily.”

  “I don’t know,” Belva paused to think. “One day he just started to act right. One day he didn’t even look at me on the street acting like I don’t exist. Another day he said hello Mrs Durant with respect. Then he just started to act like a human being towards everyone, not just me.”

  “Maybe that was the moment, the moment when he started to love your son. Love makes us want to be better people.”

  Josephine could remember vividly the first time she discovered love. The gentleness of the touch, the tenderness of a gaze, the connection of emotions, and the care made her melt inside. She fell in love with those emotions and was never the same since. There was no tolerance within her to stand anything that was less than love, less than adoration of someone’s whole being.

  Belva stopped with her absentminded cleaning up the room.

  “What are you saying?” she looked at Josephine.

  Josephine sat at the edge of the bed like a lost princess with her skirt spread around her.

  “Although your son did threaten me and trust me into the tree trunk that first time we met, he seemed like a good son. Someone who cares for his mother. Someone who cares enough for others to go further down south when he shouldn’t go. It seemed that you raised your son to be a good man.”

  “Yes, and?” Belva was suspicious of her.

  “In return, he seemed to raise Luiz to be a better man than his father and brother are. Who else would teach him?” Josephine looked up and Belva could see sadness in her eyes. “Who else would take the time to show him how to be better? We only do that for those we love.”

  Belva sat on the other bed wondering why she stayed away from her lady, why she let her get so distant.

  “Your point is?”

  “You raised two good young men without even knowing that you’re raising the other. He didn’t have to tell his father. His father
would notice the change. A bastard wouldn’t appreciate the change. He would keep his eyes open to find who is to blame for the change.”

  “In the end, I’m to blame, for raising my son well?” Belva frowned at her ready to add to her own guilt.

  Josephine had to laugh a bit before her thickness.

  “I’m not talking about blame. I’m talking about love. Your love gave those two young men a measure of what love is. Think of all the slaves your son freed. Of the children he has. Think of all people Luiz was kind to, of prisoners he didn’t kill without a trail, of slaves he didn’t hunt because I heard the rumours. The town’s folk weren’t satisfied with him for not catching slaves.”

  “For a wicked woman who sits in her plantation having orgies, you know awful a lot of love,” Belva said after few moments.

  “Didn’t you know? My wickedness was that I love too much.”

  Belva smiled at Josephine thinking that she understands what she was trying to say. Belva was now the same as her son. She had a secret to keep before the world.

  “Am I included in that love?” Belva chose that moment to stir away from her son.

  Her anger towards him won’t be changed by any amount of words. He left down south without a word. He went and lied about going home. She didn’t raise him to lie.

  Especially, to include her grandson in his lie. Jolene will be mad as hell at both of them. Belva should talk to Jolene to see how she’s holding up with both of them gone. Maybe she needs help. It’s not easy for a woman to raise two daughters on her own.

  “You’re not even listening to me,” Josephine rose her voice and attracted her attention.

  “What?” Belva tried to remember what they were talking about.

  “I was just saying how much I loved you from the first sight and you’re thinking about something else!”

  “I was thinking of Evan’s wife Jolene. Maybe we should go and see her make sure that she’s well,” Belva said honestly.

  “You just let your son to his destiny and now you would go and see his wife ask how she’s doing.”

  “Yes, my granddaughters are with her, I worry for them,” Belva frowned.

  “You weren’t worried for her an hour ago.”

  “Then I thought that Evan is home taking care of them. I sent him to do just that.”

  Josephine sighed trying to compose herself. This wasn’t a moment for a fit of rage. This room wouldn’t handle one more.

  “You found out that she’s alone for months and months now, maybe even a year, if I remember correctly when Santos came to work for us. Nothing has changed for her at this moment. If she wanted, she could have to contact you, didn’t she?”

  “We arranged a meeting point, the message would reach me,” Belva agreed.

  “Then why would you go up there? What would you say to her if she asks how your son is and when he’ll get back home? You have no answer to that and that is the only important question. Besides, now you know secrets you wouldn’t like to share with her. Maybe till now, she has some secrets of her own she doesn’t want you to know.”

  “Oh,” Belva frowned deeper. “What should I do then?”

  “You should tell me, do you love me too? If you do, we should go and find that shop up north. From there you can write to Jolene and ask if she needs help. We can send her money.”

  Belva smiled to a side finally focused at Josephine.

  “And what if I don’t love you?”

  “Why won’t you just say it? You already declared it but why not just say it?”

  “Words aren’t so important,” Belva said letting her smile show.

  “Again you. I won’t pressure you,” Josephine got up. “We should make a move on.”

  “My love,” Belva caught her hand. “But we didn’t try out these beds and there won’t be safe ones till we find our shop to live above it.”

  Josephine looked at her and finally let herself unwind. She pushed Belva on the bed and lied beside her.

  “I think these beds are too narrow,” she said.

  “I think they’ll suffice,” Belva answered and pulled her into a kiss.

  12.1 The Darkest Tiles

  Charcoaled House

  When everything settled, Sue sat her husband for a talk.

  “Tell me now and don’t lie, how were they capable of interpreting Ina’s talk? Even I can’t understand her sometimes. How did they manage to know about the mistress and the slaves?”

  William squirmed under her gaze.

  “You seemed silly to me so I might mention something to my uncle,” he said finally. “But I thought you’re just being silly. I couldn’t imagine that she might really be up to saving slaves.”

  Sue covered her face.

  “So, you went and betrayed one person that ever helped me?”

  “I didn’t,” he caught her hands. “I just said it to him as a tale, nothing serious. He told it to someone else and the rumour started.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I hoped that it’ll all just blow over. I can’t believe they burned her house for nothing. The babble of a child shouldn’t be proof of anything.”

  Sue looked at him feeling old. How could he still be so young and naïve?

  “I’ll tell you this now so you know where we stand. The lady did help slaves escape. Her home was a place where runaways would rest and wait till it’s time to move out.”

  “That’s horrible,” William was upset now. “Surely, you were forced to cooperate. You were just a maid.”

  “No, I had a choice. I chose to stay. The horrible part wasn’t that she helped but that all of the rest of us pretend that it’s ok to own a human. Do you understand? I helped willingly and would do the same again.”

  William frowned and then nodded.

  “You have a big heart. That’s why I love you. I can’t be mad at that,” he said finally.

  Sue smiled comforted how much his reaction resembled hers when they asked her about runaways.

  “We’re good then,” she said satisfied.

  When Eddy, their errand boy, appeared at her door, asking would she like to help, she agreed without hesitation.

  Soon, her home became a safe house, a place where runaways can find rest and shelter.

  Sue organized things so her husband wouldn’t be obligated to participate in her endeavours. He was a terrible liar.

  What he doesn’t know, he can’t tell.

  After he got disappointed in the righteous lady Carol went and knocked on the door of the least respectable lady he ever met.

  The unknown young lady opened at him and smiled inviting.

  “I’m searching for the lady of the house,” he said to her.

  “That would be the matron, go upstairs but you have to be special to be invited in her bed.”

  Lady Tomassa sat behind a heavy mahogany table. She lifted her gaze and looked him carefully.

  “Carol, wasn’t it?” she said.

  “Yes mam, I’m looking for service.”

  “You came to the right place,” she got up. “Let me show you around. This is my safe house for girls in need. You came at the right time. The man of your skill might help them learn a thing or two and raise their own prices. That could benefit us all.”

  Carol looked at the girl after girl and soon realized that he was in the whorehouse. After the initial shock, he thought that only luck sent him here.

  “I think I’ll fit in just fine,” he said and girls laughed.

  At first, it was more than fine. But beside girls, Carol had many duties. Among them was chasing customers who refused to pay, retrieving girls who would run and clean everything.

  After a while, he got really tired.

  He missed the clean halls of the White Phoenix and his whimsical mistress that would make jokes with him. In her madness, Lady Josephine was cleaner than any of these ladies.

  Most of all, he missed his old master. He was a man that knew how to keep things under control. With him
around even here there would be order.

  “We’re going to move up north,” Tomassa said to him one day. “Gather girls and watch out for them not to use the opportunity and escape. Rivers are deep but they don’t need girls, we do.”

  “Why up north?” Carol was desperate thinking of all the work he’ll have to do, the packing, the cleaning, settling at a new place.

  “The war is coming,” she said gleefully.

  “We’re running from the war?” that seemed reasonable.

  “No, we’re running towards it. No one is hungry like soldiers.”

  Carol just nodded and then went to pack his suitcase.

  He slipped out into the night. As he went he saw several girls running too. Instead of stopping them, he gave to each of them some money and instructions where to find shelter.

  They became dear to him. The girls weren’t to blame for their misfortunate position in the world. Any of maids on the White Phoenix could end up like that if they didn’t have their mistress to take care of them.

  ‘The darkest tiles might be fun to dance upon because there are no rules you can break upon them,’ his master’s voice was weary. ‘You must be careful before their charm because the darkest tiles have no end. They are abyss that will pull you further in until all your strength is lost and then destroy you without mercy because there’s no mercy or love on the darkest tile. Without love there is no redemption, there is only the path downwards. That’s why it’s important to step on the white tile every once in a while, just to make sure that you don’t lose your way.’

  12.2 Roots

  White Phoenix

  The chase was exciting. Cynthia enjoyed every step of the way. First, they caught the woman trying to sell the ruby neckless.

  “I didn’t know they were immoral,” the woman said quickly. “The dress made me suspect. You see, she measured that dress by hand. No one can do that without…”

  The woman gestured like she’ll grab Cynthia’s bosom. Cynthia laughed. It was nice to know that her mistress continued with her wicked deeds.

  They followed the trail of jewels and train stations. Finally, they caught up with them at the end of Virginia.

 

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