F
ather crashed through the door in a drunken stupor. Elizabeth froze in her bed, silent and still at
this late hour, trying to ignore the inevitable. He soon
found his way up the stairs, bumping the walls, feeling his way through the darkness to her bedroom. He
touched her in a way that no one, especially a step-father, should ever touch a woman of her age. He ripped
her night-clothes and engulfed her with whiskey breath.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut, but tears managed to
escape from the corners and fall to her ears. She wished
she could be deaf and not have to hear his animalistic
grunts. She wished she was numb and not feeling hot
saliva drool onto her face and neck. She kept her arms
to her sides and prayed it would be over quickly. He left
her crying in her bedroom and retired to the master
bedroom with his wife.
Elizabeth longed to get away from this New England home, the dread, the burden she had to endure
since she was eleven years old, when she had first
shown signs of womanhood. But her step-father kept
his money under lock and key, and was tight fisted in
matters of his family and his appreciating wealth. The
furthest she could get from the home was the servant
quarters on the property. She spent much of her time
there during the day, avoiding her family, especially now that her sister, Emma, was away at boarding
school.
The room smelled of strange exotic foods and
spices. The house-maid, Tichiban, always had some
interesting foods, offerings and customs from her
homeland. Elizabeth enjoyed her visits to the servant’s
quarters, to learn about them. Elizabeth sat at the table
across from the servant, where she was slicing a fuzzy
green fruit. Tichiban pushed a few pieces of the fruit
across the table in Elizabeth’s direction.
“Kiwi. Eat it child. It is good for you.”
“Kiwi?”
Elizabeth placed a piece in her mouth and juice
ran from her lips. Tichiban laughed out loud. Barely a
smile purged Elizabeth’s face.
“What troubles you so, my child?” Tichiban inquired.
“I heard my step-father, Isaac, speaking with an
attorney today. He is signing over the lake property to
his brother and sister. That was my father’s property, my
real father. It was promised to me and my sister before
he died.”
“What do your Mums say about it?” Tichiban
asked.
She reached over and dabbed the juice from Elizabeth’s face with a cloth.
“She agrees with everything he says and does. Everything!” Elizabeth reached a quick boiling point and
her face flushed red. “I hate her as much as I hate him!”
the young woman screeched.
Tichiban’s whole face frowned and she tilted her
head to look Elizabeth in the eyes.
“Hate is a strong word, my child, you are so young
to hate,” the house servant said.
She put a finger under Elizabeth's chin and
pushed her head up. She moved the hair away from
away from Elizabeth’s face with gentle fingers. Elizabeth
wanted to soften her stance for her friend, knowing she disapproved, but she could not quell the anger within her.
“But, I do. I hate them both. I would like to leave this
place. As soon as Emma is old enough, I will. We both will!”
Elizabeth squeezed the piece of fruit she had been
holding, until it squished out between her fingers like green
putty. She had not told Tichiban about what goes on in the
dark hours of night, with the man she is forced to call father
by day. She debated about telling her now, but held back.
One day she would tell; she trusted this woman more than
anyone else in her life, excluding her sister. She hoped that
when the time came, Tichiban would help her and Emma
escape this place. She had remained in this situation all
these years to protect Emma from the fate she had endured,
hoping one day to take her away.
As morning stretched into afternoon, Isaac had gone
to Cape Cod on business. Tichiban needed to tend the
house laundry so Elizabeth decided to trek into town. Riverfalls Township had a small trading market where farm
goods could be purchased. It also had a well-stocked general
store. Her intent was to purchase rat poison. She had gotten some the week previous and laced it into the daily milk.
While everyone in the house fell ill, the poison had not
claimed its intended victim. Today she planned to buy twice
as much as last week and would administer higher doses to
her step-father. She walked several miles into town and the
trip took her over an hour. She was rebuffed at the general
store.
“You can put this purchase on my family’s account,”
she insisted.
“Your father’s account is overdue and I shall retain no
more onto his credit until I speak with him,” the proprietor
exclaimed.
“My family’s money is good as gold in this town. How
dare you treat me with such insolence,” Elizabeth shouted.
However, for all her shouting, the proprietor would
not yield, and she left the store red-faced and angry, having
to walk the several miles back to her home, empty handed.
Nearing the house from the dirt road, she noticed her
step-father’s carriage had returned. Not wanting to look into
his craggy face and scraggy mustache, she went to the servant quarters out back. When Elizabeth entered the room,
Tichiban had been busy at the fireplace. She turned to Elizabeth with two dolls made from soap wax. The larger one was
male and the other obviously female.