Beauty

by Kris Calvert

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Beauty. She’s stuck in Park Ave and she needs my help. She led me to Dr. Edmund Gold and now back to my house. Jess, she’s left something there for me. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Lizzie, wait!” Jess shouted. “Don’t do anything stupid. Magda says there’s something demonic in you house. You might try to reach the girl and end up dancing with the devil. Do you understand me?”

  “I do understand. Don’t you see? For the first time I actually understand!” I shouted the words at Jess. She wasn’t going to stop me from finding Beauty and setting her free.

  “Lizzie, don’t. Just stop and think about what you’re doing okay? At least wait until Magda and I can get to your house tonight. Don’t try anything alone.”

  Ignoring her plea, I said exactly what I needed to say to get Jess to hang up and leave me be. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be waiting for you.”

  I hung up as I turned the Jeep onto Park Avenue, parking behind the house. Rushing through the rose garden and into the kitchen I began to yell for Ray the moment I walked through the door.

  “Ray!” Hearing the music come from his studio, I knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. Ray stood in the center of the room surrounded by no less than ten paintings of roses in various states of bloom. “Ray?”

  He didn’t answer and when I touched him on the shoulder he turned to me with a faraway look that sent a chill through my body. His blue eyes were gone, his casual demeanor replaced by a stoic stance. I kissed him on the cheek. “Hi honey,” I said as I inhaled his neck. Peppermint.

  “It’s about damn time you got up here, you little whore. What took you so long? I want a taste of what you’ve been keeping to yourself.”

  “What?” I asked as I tried to look him in the eye. He denied my nonverbal request, turning away.

  “You heard me. Get on the table now, or you’ll end up like your stupid friends. Do you hear me?”

  “Ray,” I said touching his shoulder. “What are you saying?”

  Grabbing me by the arm, Ray hurled me onto a table of paints, knocking everything to the floor. I pulled myself up onto my elbows just in time to watch him stride toward me—his lip curled, his mouth foaming with spittle. “Ray, it’s me. It’s Lizzie. What are you doing?”

  “Shut up, whore.”

  Grabbing me by my hair, he twisted my neck backwards until I could no longer breathe.

  Clawing at anything on the table to use as a weapon, I grabbed a small tin of turpentine, squeezing it into his face.

  I could hear the scream of pain and he loosened his grip on my hair long enough for me to kick him in the crotch. “You bitch!” he yelled.

  I was away from him, but only for a moment as he beat me to the stairs leading down. With no other choice, I ran up to the third floor, squirming through his hands as they latched onto the heel of my boot. Again, I kicked, and landed a blow right to his face.

  “Ray, please stop!” I shouted, running up the second flight of stairs and closing the door to the third floor behind me, locking it with the deadbolt.

  Leaning my head into the door, I caught my breath and tried to process what had just happened. Then the banging began.

  “Ray!” I shouted. “Don’t do this. We love each other remember? This is Lizzie. You love me.” I cried, sliding down the door in emotional exhaustion. “You love me.”

  I whimpered in the corner, rubbing my neck and trying to think. I was trapped.

  Lying in the floor, I did my best to calm myself. It wasn’t until a few minutes had passed that I realized how quiet the house had become. Ray wasn’t banging any more. I stood, tiptoeing to listen at the door. Silence.

  I hurried to the closet. Without the set of skeleton keys, I couldn’t get into the space. I stood in front of it and whispered. “Beauty, show me what you want me to do. You want me to help you? Help me to help you.”

  I heard the click before I saw it happen. The door to the closet opened and the rusty hinge let out a groan. Pushing the closet door open wide, I felt a chill in the air and saw my breath in front of my face. She was there. She was with me. I could feel her.

  In the floor lay the empty frame. Picking it up, I walked to the corner of the room where I could catch some light from the window. I sat in an old chair, and listened again for any sign of Ray.

  I stared into the darkness looking for something—anything. At first, I only saw my face. It was like looking in a mirror of sorts. I could see my own reflection, but then I watched myself drop away—replaced by another face. “Beauty?” I whispered the word and watched the face staring back at me smile. She was blonde and beautiful—living up to her name.

  Tears began to well in my eyes and I stared into the face of someone who wasn’t me. Or was it?

  A crown sat upon her head as if she was a princess and I wondered if she knew her Prince had spent his life looking for her in vain.

  “Tell me what you need me to do,” I begged. I looked through the darkness and saw the man in Ray’s drawing, the man in Beauty’s drawing, come behind her and place his hand upon her shoulder. In turn, I felt a hand upon mine—as if Edmund Gold was letting me know he was there too.

  “Lizzie?”

  I screamed, dropping the frame as I turned to find a bloodied and battered Ray standing behind me. I backed up quickly, not knowing who he was. “Ray?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said as he thumbed at his bloody nose. “Lizzie, I don’t know what happened to me.”

  Falling to his knees before me, he dropped his head into my lap. “I’m so confused,” he choked out as he began to cry.

  His face was dripping with sweat and I stroked the hair from his face and calmed him as if I didn’t need to be consoled myself. “I don’t know what’s going on around here, but I know that I love you and that is stronger than anything bad or evil in this house.”

  I said the words, but had no idea where the fortitude behind them was coming from. It was as if I was being willed to be to be fully capable in the face of despair. Ray nodded his head in my lap but remained quiet. He wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to show his vulnerabilities, and yet he’d cried twice in the past two days.

  My own tears fell on Ray’s body. I was exhausted. I was road-kill both mentally and physically.

  “What are we going to do?” he asked as he pulled himself from my lap, cupping my tearstained face with his hand.

  I shook my head as if I didn’t know, but in reality, I had an idea. It was more like a feeling inside. This Beatrice woman, this Beauty, was letting me know she was with me. I’d listened to the tapes of Magda’s visit over and over in my office. There were human spirits trapped at Park Ave and Beauty was clearly one of them. The demonic presence Magda and Jess had warned me of, had to be what was keeping her here. I took a deep breath and kissed Ray squarely on the lips.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, wiping my running nose. “We’re going to figure out how to set Beauty free. And we’re going to kick whatever else is inside this house to the curb.”

  Ray pulled me to him tightly like a child clinging to his mother. “I’m so sorry, Lizzie. You know I would never do anything to hurt you. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

  “The same thing that’s happening to me.”

  “We’re in this together, Liz. I’m not going down without a fight.”

  “And I’m not going down.”

  23

  BEAUTY

  The house was bustling. The party tonight deemed it necessary for us to wear fresh, clean uniforms that were fancier than the regular ones. Instead of a gray dress, we’d each been given a black one and a frilly little hat to wear on our heads. It was hard to put on a good face knowing the fate that Zara and I would surely face at some point. It was clear if we weren’t good enough, not cooperative enough, we wouldn’t be punished or let go—we would be terminated.

  Zara and I took turns being strong dur
ing the day. We each dried our tears if anyone approached and when I was caught crying by Madam’s daughter Elizabeth, she spat in my face and told me to stop being a baby.

  I didn’t know why evil had taken root in this house, but I knew Zara and I had to get out—and soon.

  Zara stared blankly into the full-length mirror in our room. I stole away to the closet, gazing at myself in the shadow of the darkness. I needed to see who I really was. I wanted to see underneath the uniform to the real Beauty.

  Pulling the frame from the bag, I stared into the darkness and waited for it to come. I saw myself smiling and I knew my mouth was sullen from the day I’d had. A shadow formed behind my shoulder and I hoped with all my heart to see the face of the one—my one—my Edmund.

  As the image became clearer, a demon appeared behind me and I found myself unable to breathe. With one gasp, I knew.

  “Beauty,” Zara called to me.

  Paralyzed, fearing my future, I remained silent and listened only to the beating heart inside my head.

  “Beauty,” she called again. I could feel her warm body behind me as I stared into the face of the pure evil that would be my undoing.

  “Beauty,” she said a third time, before yanking my hand from the mirror and breaking the hold the image had on me.

  The frame fell to the floor and I collapsed beside it, gasping for air.

  “What happened?” she asked. “What were you doing?”

  The tears flowed so easily now. Christine was dead and I knew soon I would be too.

  “You have to stop,” Zara said. “You have to stop now. We’ll be dead for sure if we mess up their party tonight. So put on a fake smile and pretend we are guests. We will make it through.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Helping me to my feet, Zara placed her arm around me. “You pulled me out of the garden this morning. I’m holding you together for the night.”

  I took a deep breath and we both heard our names being shouted from below. Hurrying out of the room, we closed the door behind us and locked away our emotions, at least for the night.

  The house was full of people and Madam and Sir were smiling and laughing as bootlegged champagne was passed around and cigars and cigarettes were smoked. The ladies wore sparkling gowns and jewelry, the men tuxedos. It reminded me of a life I knew I once lived with my own family—a distant life, so far away I didn’t know if I would ever find it again.

  Each time the front door opened I thought about walking out. Who would notice if I did? I could walk right out the door and never look back. The question was where would I go. I reminded myself that anywhere would be better than staying here to be the sexual servant of Sir and a punching bag for Madam.

  I needed to tell Zara of my plans but I couldn’t seem to find her in the sea of people milling about the house.

  The door opened and a blast of cool air filled the room. Picking up a soiled napkin from the floor, I stood just in time to see him walk in. Edmund.

  In a panic, I turned too quickly and ran into a guest, knocking the drink from his hand. “Good God, girl. Watch where you’re going!”

  “My apologies, sir,” I said as I began to dab the black lapel of his jacket. “Stop touching my husband,” a woman sneered at me.

  I walked away as quickly as I could, looking over my shoulder for Edmund. I knew he’d come for me. Setting down the tray I began to mill around the crowd myself, standing on my toes at every opportunity to find him.

  Pushing past a group of people on the staircase, I went higher to gain a better vantage point. “Watch where you’re going girl.” I heard someone chastise me, but I didn’t care. When Edmund saw me, he would take me from this place. We would be together, just as he promised.

  I couldn’t see him and hurried back down the stairs to make a sweep of the entire house. He was here and I was going to find him.

  Rushing through the crowd, I continued to push my way forward, finding not Edmund, but Zara.

  “What are you doing?” She did her best to talk through the fake smile.

  “Edmund is here,” I said with excitement. “He’s come to get me. He promised me he would.”

  “Where is your tray?” Zara asked in a hushed tone. “If you don’t pick up your tray and start working again, someone is going to take you out of here and you’ll never see anyone ever again. Do you understand me?”

  I did. Walking away, I searched for the silver tray I’d left in the middle of the sparkly people. And then I saw him.

  From across the room I watched as he checked the time on the gold pocket watch in his vest before giving a well-wisher a beautiful smile. Edmund was a prince. He was my prince.

  I thought of our beautiful future together. We could leave this place, just the two of us. We would be married and live a beautiful, happy life. No Rosewood, no Lupus, maybe even no darkness. I knew it could happen if we could only be together. I watched him chat with the crowd—they adored him just as I did. There was not a reason in the world not to love Edmund.

  As if in a dream, I began walking toward him. I knew as soon as our eyes met he would come to me, kiss me tenderly as he’d done before and take me away from all the pain. I moved across the floor of the room in a fluid motion. Taking the fancy hat from my head, I loosened the pins that held my hair high and tight and shook down my long golden mane as I made my way to him. I longed for his touch and I ached to be in his arms once again. I yearned to be with him, to intertwine my fingers with his.

  The pain in my arm was excruciating as it was wrenched from my shoulder. Snapping my body around, I was face to face with Sir. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I—”

  “There is no I,” he whispered as he took me by the arm and forced me up the stairs as the party roared on beneath us.

  “It’s just—”

  “Just nothing, you little feeble minded bitch. I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not a guest in my house. You’re nothing.”

  I could feel the inside of my arm tearing as he continued to twist it behind me on our way to the third floor. “No!” I screamed.

  The pain came and I heard a popping sound in my head. He’d punched me in the face with his fist and I fell to the ground, unable to utter another word.

  The dark shadows of the room filled my head as something moved under my body. He was dragging me across the floor by my foot. My face throbbed with each beat of my heart.

  Shoving my crumpled body into the closet, I heard the lock click from the outside. And then the darkness came.

  24

  ELIZA

  By seven o’clock, Ray and I had both showered and I’d used the first aid kit from the kitchen to clean the nasty gash above his left eye—evidence of the swift kick I’d given him to the face. Still, it was nothing compared to the bruise I’d left on his balls. I felt sorry for him, but I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done—not by a long shot. It was a blessing that Ray didn’t remember specifics of what had transpired—I only wished I could forget.

  The doorbell rang at six forty-five. Jess was chronically on time, but she was never early. I opened the door shocked to find Lester Searing standing on my front stoop, hunching his body under the eaves trough, doing his best to stay dry.

  “Mr. Searing?” I asked as I watched a flash of lightning fill the sky and the soft rain turn to a full shower. “Come in.”

  Ushering him inside, I noticed the leaves were dropping as the impact of the rain and wind turned them from colorful ornaments on the trees to lifeless souls on the pavement.

  “I’m sorry to come here unannounced,” Lester said. “I would’ve called but you don’t have a land line with a listed number, and you left before I had a chance to get your cell.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said looking to my feet. “I needed to get out of Dr. Gold’s house.”

  “It was the frame I spoke of. You know the piece, don’t you?”

  I stared at him unsure of how to acknowledge his s
tatement.

  “From the look on your face, I know I am correct in my assumption.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “May I sit?” he asked.

  I found my manners tucked somewhere between my curiosity and my anxiety. “I’m so sorry. I’m really not myself right now. Please.”

  Lester promptly made a beeline for the parlor, removing his soggy raincoat and taking a seat in front of the warm fire.

  “I know only what Dr. Gold told me,” he said settling into the cushions. “You see there’s an ancient practice. It’s called scrying—a way to look into the future, or see what is unseen in someone.”

  “A way to see into the soul.”

  “You could say that. The point is, Dr. Gold told me the reason he knew Beauty was the one for him and he could never cease looking for her was because of what he saw in the frame. Dr. Gold believed with all his heart that Beatrice had some psychic tendencies.”

  “What? I don’t understand what you’re saying Mr. Searing.”

  “Miss Lovelace, have you ever heard of the Rosewood Asylum?”

  “Only because of Edmund,” I said, thinking of the reflection of the two of them in the dark mirror earlier in the day. “When I Googled him, it came up.”

  “Did anything else come up?”

  “I don’t know. I really just focused on him. I know he was a doctor there, right?”

  “For a brief time.”

  “Tell me about Beauty, Lester. I need to know.”

  He leaned back in his chair and placed his fingertips together forming a peak on his chest. “She was brought to the Rosewood Asylum by her parents. She’d been misdiagnosed. Maybe her psychic abilities scared them. Regardless, that’s where she met Dr. Gold. They fell in love, but he lost her. He spent the rest of his life looking for her. He never forgot Beauty. He never got over her and he never married.”

  “And she was insane?”

  “On the contrary,” Lester said before taking a deep breath. “Beatrice had what would now be diagnosed as temporal lobe epilepsy. Unfortunately, at the time not a whole lot was known about the condition and many patients were misdiagnosed. Beatrice was one of them. It’s not uncommon for those with occipital or temporal lobe epilepsy to report psychic phenomenon. Maybe it was why she lived in her own world where she thought herself a princess and Dr. Gold her knight in shining armor. Whatever she saw in the frame she believed to be true—and in the end, so did Edmund—despite what he knew as a medical doctor.”