Story

Chapter 2: Marians past reveiled!

The Story

 

            Enormous droplets of rain fall around us as Aunt Marian and I walk in a miserable, akward silence. The rain hides her tears, the thunder claps louder than any scream she could muster, even if she could cry out. I have nothing to say to her. I find my mind slipping back to the kiss, my first kiss ever. Though I know his reasons for doing so, I cannot help but wish Edmond had not stopped. I touch my lips unconsciously. This is not unnoticed.

            "Enjoy the feeling now, even if he was willing to stay with you, you will never see that boy again." I no longer have the strength to argue with her, and I do not want to hurt her any more than I already have.

            We reach the entrance to our small house. I open the heavy wooden door for my Aunt. She walks through as if there was never a door there; she is vacant, empty of all thought, other than those thoughts which give her so much pain.

            I look around our tiny, cluttered, dimly lit house. Though it is the only place I can remember living in, but it has never been a home to me. Homes are not so confining. Homes do not have the laundry of the rich hanging from the ceiling, trapping me in like the bars of a cage. I know where my home is. It is somewhere in the sea, on some far distant ship. I have never even dared to tell Aunt Marian this. She despises the sea. I feel I will now, for the first time, know why.

            Aunt Marian has silently made her way into the small kitchen. I move to the hearth, eager to warm the chilly room. She stops me and moves to get the matches herself. I sit down at the wooden table and look out the window at the storm. The wind whips against the walls and shakes the building. The sky is dark gray, nearly black. Night is getting close, but we will not see the stars. I look at the sea. I love the sea when it storms, when I cannot tell where the sky ends and the water begins. Sometimes I think the dark, raging water is the only thing in the world I can relate to.

            Aunt Marian still attempts to light the fire, refusing to look at me. She begins to speak, so softly I strain to hear her.

            "I was younger than you when I met him, my James." The match flares up. She throws it into the hearth. She still does not look at me, she stares into the fire. "I was only sixteen. My father was wealthy, in the king's Navy. I stood to inherit a huge fortune. I had no experience with men. I was always told I was too good for any of them. I was always jealous of my sister, Lydia, your mother. She was arranged to be married to the man she loved. Your father was a wealthy gentleman with a trading business. Our parents approved greatly, to put it mildly." Tears long held back well in my eyes. Talk of my parents always hurts me. Aunt Marian does not notice. She is lost in her story. "I was at the docks, waiting for my father to return from a mission when I saw him. He looked so handsome, swinging off the ship, so tall and masculine. His clothes told me he was no more than a poor ship hand, but my heart told me not to care. All the other girls stared at him too, but he saw me. He picked me. Without a word, he walked over to me and kissed my hand."

            I have never seen this side of my Aunt. She looks up at me for the first time, still kneeling on the floor. "From then on we found ways to see each other every night. I was lying to my parents so easily. They never suspected a thing. James promised we could be together as soon as he had the money for marriage. It was hard, so hard, but I was willing to wait. It was the worst when he left in his ships, for weeks at a time. I would cry and cry and no one knew what ailed me." She sighs and continues. "But no matter what, he always returned, still full of promises, but never with enough money. I was so young and naive. When he said he loved me I agreed so easily."

            Aunt Marian looks down again as the tears well up. But this time her aversion is out of shame. "Somehow, after two whole years, I ended up pregnant." I let out a small gasp. She does not notice "I was so afraid. James promises we could escape, saying society would reject me if we stayed. I told him I could not leave without saying goodbye to my family." She lets out a sad, broken sigh at the same time that I do. "I couldn't bring myself to face my parents, so I told the only person I trusted, my sister. Lydia was two years older than me, getting married to Charles in about a month. I told her everything. I couldn't keep it inside me anymore. She was appaled, of course. She said she did not trust James and she wanted me to stay. She promised to take care of me."

            Her voice is hardly audible again. "We had the most terrible of falling outs that night. I could not bring myself to leave James. I insulted her in every way possible to hide my own shame. When she ran down the stairs to tell our parents, I escaped through the window. I found James, told him we had to leave. We stowed away on a tiny shipping vessel." Her voice quivers even more. "The conditions were terrible. A whole month of hiding on the hard floor of the store room, rotten food, filthy water..." she trails off. One small sob escapes her lips, her voice no more than a whisper. "We planned to get to America, but we could not spend another minute on that God forsaken ship, so we got off here. When we arrived, I learned I had lost the baby." She touches her stomach involuntarily. Tears start to fall from my eyes at the pitiful sight. "James promised to stay with me, he promised we would get off this island, he promised..." she trails off again.

            "And then he was gone, gone away on the sea, I suspect. I woke to find my bed empty. The innkeeper said he left unreasonably early. I knew I was alone on the God ridden island. I had nowhere to go. I ran out to the docks, looking for something, anything, that would let me know where he had gone. No one had seen him, no ships had left."

            "And he never came back. I wept for three days. I didn't know what to do. Finally, when I worked up the strength to face the world again, I had to buy this house and take the laundress job. "She looks up into my eyes, surprises me by taking my hand. " Then I go the letter, after more than eight years of pain, from that awful orphanage. I had not heard about my sister's death, or her husband's. I did not even know you were born. They said I had to come retrieve you, the orphanage was overcrowded. I thought, if I raised you right, I could make it up to Lydia somehow. I made a promise to her, I would keep you safe. But you grew to be such a beauty, and I knew it was only a matter of time until a sailor came through town and took you away. I never wanted lose you to a man like James."  A small, sad sound squeaks in her throat. "And now I have."

            I finally gain the will to speak, realizing what Aunt Marian's motives for such strictness have been all this time. I lean down and put my arm around her, tears falling from my eyes as well. "No you haven't. You will never lose me."

            Silence sets in on the house. We are both a bit embarrassed about the show we put on. I stand awkwardly and go into the tiny sitting room without another word. I can hear Aunt Marian take up her laundry. I pick up my knitting, but I cannot concentrate. I keep thinking back to the tragic story, and ever farther back, to the kiss. I breathe a sigh of relief when a suitable bedtime comes. I have nothing to say to Aunt Marian, so I go down the hall to my room without another word.

            I dress for bed slowly, knowing I will be unable to sleep. Aunt Marian's story is the farthest thing I would have expected. I only ever thought she was bitter about having no one to love. It is so much more than that. I do not believe that anyone less strong could survive such abandonment. I do no even believe that I could live through such a thing.

            Any thought of abandonment hurts me deeply. It is true, I lost my parents. We once lived happily in London. I was a rich little girl without a care in the world. My parents loved each other, never fought. I thought life would never change.

            But it did. Father died of influenza when I was eight. Mother and I were left with nothing except a lifetime of hidden debts and fees. We could not cope. We sold our house, most of out things. Mother could not live without him. She put his pistol to her mouth only one month later.

            I had nothing in the world. With no where to go, I lived in the slums for six months, working odd jobs for rich women, paid only a few pennies, until I was picked up by the orphanage. The orphanage was even worse than the streets. I have made I point to block out all memories of my time there. I remember only the day my Aunt arrived. Mother never told me I had an aunt, I know now why, but anywhere was better than the orphanage. We took a ship to this island and my love for the sea was reborn. And I have lived every day exactly the same way since I arrived here.

            Memories of my parents always weaken me. I have tried to teach myself not to cry when hurt. It does no good, I learned that long ago. Tears burn in my eyes. I do all I can to hold them back.

            In my nightdress, I look at myself in my small mirror. I know how impossible it would be for a handsome man such as Edmond to care about me. I am not hideous, but certainly not a beauty. I have deep, startlingly red hair which is all right when it can be tamed, which is not often. Out in the wind of the island it tangles and becomes frightfully wild. I have large, dark eyes, which I am told are nice features, a pale complexion, and a full figure I have never been quite sure what to do with. I seem to always find flaws in my appearance. I simply cannot say I am any kind of catch for a man. Not that I will ever be allowed to speak with a man again.

           But I remember Edmond's words when he first saw me. Indeed, quite lovely, but, if I am any judge of character, not a girl any right man would ot should take. Poor, obviously, and has a clear, childish need to meddle in the affairs of others. It is not the insults I remember, though I should. It is the complement. He found me "lovely". The nagging feeling in my mind reminds me that I should hate him, but no one has ever called me "lovely" before.

            I have never thought of men, but there is a hidden romantic within me which I thought to be crushed. The idea of never marrying hurts me deeply. I do not blame Aunt Marian for keeping me away, now, but that awful Edmond LeDego. As hot tears fill my eyes, I want nothing more than to hate him forever.

            It is harder to remember that, though, when I lie in bed and think of him. To have a man such as him is far too much to ask for, but the kiss stings on my lips. I cannot forget. It is hard to believe that it may be my only kiss. I refuse to accept that. Better men will come, I try to tell myself, some one will love me for me. Edmond will be nothing more than a distant memory. But something inside me does not want that to be so.

            I lie in bed, unable to focus on anything. It is late. I heard Aunt Marian go to her room long ago. Slowly, silently, I light my candle and walk out my door, not exactly sure where to go. I settle in the kitchen, looking out the window. Something has changed from the view I have seen every day. The Schindler Mansion, standing tall and ominous against the purple midnight sky, has a light.

 

Reviews

[Julie Beth]

Ana's Aunt's story was very sad, but it makes me wonder if her Aunt's story will be similar to the ending of this story with Edmond and Ana. I hope it doesn't end like that, but Edmond doesn't seem like the kind of person you would be able to trust. I feel bad that Ana lost her family like that, but at leasst she has her Aunt. Awesome job :)

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[1809 Black Plague Decem..]

OH man, I see the predicament they are in.
It is the ultimate fate of a woman sometimes
who has everything and is naive to the world,
ends in solitude, with and is trying to save the same damnation
to another so beautiful, young and naive,

[Londen]

awww poor marian and ana. That's so sad. Good writing so far, keep going.