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Authors: Ronnell D. Porter

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BOOK: Wilhelmina A Novella
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There were marks in the planks, days counted off by other girls who had decided to have a standoff with the witch of the tower. They had carved their names in the wood, and as I ran my fingers across the cuts and scratches, I drew strength from them.

I would last longer than Agnes, longer than Nancy, longer than Bernice, and Constance. Bernice had lasted the longest, staying five days inside without food or water. I desperately hoped that meant that she had surrendered. There was no way that Elizabeth Bathory could get away with the murder and torture of a child. I prayed to God that she wouldn’t get away with this. I would stop her from treating any other girl like this.

I had nothing but the soil in the ground to sit on, and so I huddled in the corner and held my knees to my chest. I tried my best to ignore the burning pain in my stomach; I was so hungry. I refused to cry because I didn’t want to give her any form of power over me.

As night drew closer, the afternoon sun was low enough to shine through the boards. It was warm. I saw Mr. Abberdean in this small gift from the skies and heavens. I felt him there with me, and I smiled as I imagined him holding me in the dirt and reading his poems to me. He was all I needed then, and as the frigid pit inside of me inflated with nostalgic warmth in his image, I was certain that he would be enough to see me through this now.

The night was cold, and my mind was going stir-crazy and I wanted something, anything, to eat. I cried, and screamed for someone to help me, but no one came.

By the next morning my throat was dry and sticky, and I longed for water. I so craved food and water that I clawed into the soil and dirt because I had nothing else to distract me from the pain.

‘Wilhelmina...’ I wasn’t certain I had actually heard Evonne’s voice, I simply laid there and stared at the dark pieces of wood around me. ‘Wilhelmina, please say something so that I know that you’re alive.’

‘I’m here,’ I gasped, though my voice was raspy and weak.

‘Wilhelmina, what on earth have you done?’ She hissed with urgency. ‘The governess was furious the night before last, and she won’t allow anyone to come down to see you. The only reason I’m here now is because I’m meeting the postal boy at the horse stables. What did you do to upset her?’

‘Nothing,’ I told her.

‘Wilhelmina, don’t insult me by lying to me!’ Evonne snapped. I was silent for a moment and I sat up, crawling to the small opening between boards where I could see her light hazel eye looking back into mine. ‘What have you done?’

‘I tried to get Mr. Abberdean’s letters while she was having one of her monthly dinner parties,’ I admitted. ‘There was a man who followed me into the governess’ den, and he had the key to her desk drawer. He told me that he would give me the key if I sat on his lap, and that’s all. I swear to you, Evonne, that’s all that happened!’

‘Do you realize what you’ve done?’ Evonne barked in a whisper. She hushed me as I began to cry. ‘I know, Wilhelmina, I know. You would never do anything foul for mere letters.’

‘What’s going to happen to me?’ I asked, frightened to my very bones. I had no idea what was to become of me, I just wanted to be back in my own little room beside my window reading Jane Austen and looking forward to Tuesday nights.

‘The governess said that you may come out when you are ready to cut your hair. She will send Minus to make the offer this evening’ Evonne said.  ‘Just accept the offer, Wilhelmina.’

‘No.’ I was firm in my resolve and no matter what torture I must endure, I would keep my long hair.

‘Wilhelmina, I have seen far more stubborn girls in this shed for better reasons, and you do not want to endure the consequences. Please, just accept the offer,’ Evonne said. ‘It’s only hair.’

‘I will not cut my hair,’ I told her sternly, as though she were a representative for the enemy army. Evonne gave in with a sigh and left it at that.

‘I must go, I can see the postal boy now. I’ll come back when I get another moment.’ She stood and straightened out her dress. ‘Please think about what I’ve said.’

I watched her walk away, and felt alone again. The memory of Mr. Abberdean left me after a while, and I sat there, disoriented in time and meaning. I questioned if it was worth this torture to keep my hair?

Mr. Abberdean might have loved my hair wild and free, but where was he? He was gone, in another country, leaving me to deal with Elizabeth Bathory and the War of the Secession.

He abandoned me, and left me here on my own without any form of notice but a last minute goodbye.

Minus was at the door by sunset with the offer on his tongue, just like Evonne told me he would be. I wanted to say yes, that I would cut my hair willingly, that this war was not worth a man who had left me with no sense of regret. My lips were ready, my tongue lapping up whatever saliva my mouth could muster to end this hellish imprisonment. But I couldn’t bring myself to give in. My heart could not forsake the only source of happiness in my life for the last four years. I was almost fourteen, and had never fought for anything in my life. Why would I? I had never believed in anything enough to put up a fight.

But I believed in love. Charles Abberdean was my love, my one and only, whether it was a friend or more, or maybe even nothing at all. He was the only tangible love I had to hold onto, and that in itself was reason enough to keep fighting, whether he was here with me, or thousands of miles across the ocean.

Again, I said no.

The next morning, Evonne went to meet the postal boy as usual and just happened to drop a sausage link through one of the wide openings in the boards. I was grateful for her ‘clumsiness’. That evening, she decided to help the kitchen slaves by taking some of the leftovers to the pig pin to mix with their slops, but she said she was not a destitute woman, and that she shouldn’t have to walk them all the way, so she left the plate in front of the shed door, just close enough for me to reach it. I was grateful for her ‘laziness’.

But after four days in the shed, Evonne stopped coming by. In the mornings, I saw Minus walk out to greet the postal boy instead of my tutor. He would cast a sorrowful glance in my direction, but he wouldn’t bother to stop or say anything.

Those few visits were the last I would ever see of Evonne.

Six days in and I had finally beaten Bernice’s fort hold against the hag that dared to call herself a governess. But my victory was hollow, for I had no friend or comrade to enjoy it with. My stomach had numbed from starvation, so I didn’t feel the hunger pains anymore, but I was beyond parched.

I needed water. My lips were cracked and dry, and my eyes were itchy from the dryness. And as the long and hot Louisiana days dragged on, the shade of shed and tree wasn’t shielding me from the sun’s heat anymore. I was trapped in a hot and thick shed with no water and no food. My skin was hot, I could feel it, but I could no longer sweat.

Minus came by that evening, and told me of the governess’
generous
offer. Again, I refused.

After seven days I cried tearlessly to God to save me. But no answer came. The insects that burrowed into the ground could sustain me if there were enough, but even as I caught wandering grasshoppers in my hands, I just couldn’t bring myself to kill them, to snuff out their lives and eat them. In my eyes, that would make me no better than the governess. And so I let them go and continued to hold my stomach in a ball on the ground.

Minus came by at sunset once again with the offer, and even added a few of his own words, begging me to accept. But still I would not grant the witch the satisfaction of breaking me.

On the eighth day, I had nothing. I had no strength. No sense of time or day, up or down. I had no hope. I had no will. I had no sense of consciousness beyond staring straight ahead as I laid in dirt, waiting for God to take me home to my mama and my papa. To take me to the crystal kingdom where I would forever be a princess. Where Charles Abberdean would read to me every night and he would be my king.

I closed my dry eyes and waited for death.

Pity came to me in the form of tears. I felt them, cold and refreshing, through the ceiling. I wondered if the angels were watching, and if they had finally had enough. But I was not dead, and as I opened my eyes, I saw no sunlight. Instead, there was a grey world outside.

I sat up, and felt mud where there should have been dirt. Water dripped on my face through the loose boards above me, and I rubbed it across my face to cleanse myself of the grime and shame. It rained heavier, and I sat there, open mouthed and enjoying the water as it ran down my hot throat, cooling me from the inside out.

The angels had seen enough alright, but it wasn’t the sign of death and surrender I was waiting for. It was a sign that I was going to win this war, that any day now the governess would surrender. When she did, I would accept as smug and proudly as I possibly could.

I would show her, she would see.

On the ninth day, I was vindicated. Or so I thought. Minus opened the door to the shed, and I felt a cool breeze rush inside, blowing through my mud-caked hair. He didn’t say anything as he gripped my arm, and I was surprised when my legs wouldn’t work with me. He caught me and swept me into his arms, carrying me into the mansion.

The servants waited on me as I bathed, and soon after I was dressed and force fed a bowl of soup. I enjoyed every insatiable flavor that hit my tongue as a fraction of my former strength returned to me. This was my victory meal, and I would savor every last drop for I had earned it.

I imagined Mr. Abberdean sitting across from me with his breathtaking smile lifting his face and my spirits.

As the sun set on the horizon, I was escorted to the governess’ den by Thea, a young house slave. She so reminded me of Abby; they shared similar facial traits, and had the same sort of glow to their dark chocolate skin. But even though I needed her support, as I couldn’t stand completely on my own, I walked up the tower steps fearlessly as I prepared to face my enemy.

Thea made sure to help me as I sat gently in the chair set before the governess’ desk. I stared directly into the governess’ eye, shaded beneath her black veil, as she stared back at me.

‘Wait outside,’ she instructed Thea. The black girl bowed and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. ‘Nine days; that is impressive. To think that the love of your hair kept you going for that long is remarkable, though dull.’

‘Forgive me,
miss
, but you’re wrong,’ I said, heatedly. ‘It wasn’t the love of my hair that kept me going.’

‘Then what was the source of your stubbornness? Your hatred of me?’

‘Hardly.’

I scoffed boldly. Instead of getting angry as I had expected, she smiled wickedly and looked me over tactfully. She lifted a bundle off of her desk and flipped through the bound letters with her nimble fingers.

‘Where is Evonne?’ I asked.

‘She has left the state, fleeing at the news of the North’s advances. I wouldn’t count on seeing her again,’ the governess said. ‘Have you changed your position on my offer?’

I shook my head evenly and matched her glare as she continued to flip through the letters;
my
letters. ‘We are much more alike than you think, Wilhelmina. More than you’re willing to admit, I’m sure.’

‘It doesn’t matter how much we’re alike, because we’re too different to compare,’ I told her coldly. She considered my words as she sat behind her desk and placed the letters before her.

‘A letter came today from Fremont, but not for you,’ the governess said lightly. ‘It was a reply from your mother. I told her what happened, and how you’ve done everything in your power to disobey me. She gave me a message to pass along to you.

‘Your step-mother and Dinah have gone away, left this morning to go live with an acquaintance of hers in Lebanon, Texas. Rumor has it the North has been spotted in Louisiana, and she made a hasty decision,’ the governess said.

‘Then I’ll go with them,’ I said.

‘She doesn’t want you to go with them. You are no longer welcome home, which officially makes you an orphan,’ the governess said coolly. I shook my head out of disbelief; I had nothing to say in response to her lies. ‘If you don’t believe me, just read it for yourself.’

She flicked the envelope toward me harshly, and I clutched it out of reflex.

‘You have no home other than what you have here. Everyone you knew has thrown you away.’ The governess was haughty and self-righteous as she inflicted every emotional cut with acute precision. ‘So, where will you go, if not stay here?’

I shrugged, stunned and distraught. Where could I go?

‘If you wish to stay in my estate, sleep in my beds and eat my food, you know what must be done.’ She said, eyeing my mess of hair. I swallowed my pride, gripped my dress in anger, and nodded. ‘Are you agreeing to cut off your hair? You may speak.’

‘Yes,’ I said through my teeth. I had no choice but to surrender, otherwise I would never be able to know where Mr. Abberdean was, or where to find him. My eyes burned with the desire to cry, but there were no tears to give, and so I bit my bottom lip as I stared into her veiled face. She picked up Mr. Abberdean’s letters off of the table and held them in her lithe hand as she stepped around the table.

‘Let this be a lesson to remind you whose hands are holding you from the endless abyss of destitution.’

The governess threw the letters into the fireplace and I screamed, scrambling to the floor and watching in agony. It literally seared my soul to see them char and burn, and I tried desperately to grab them before the flames could completely consume them, but I only ended up burning my hands. They stung, and there would definitely be blisters, but nothing compared to the pain inside as Mr. Abberdean’s words disappeared forever.

‘You promised!’ I shouted.

‘That agreement has long expired. Our deal in the present is your hair in exchange for my care. Your survival depends on it, Wilhelmina, so I would mind my rules and obey my word without question, do we understand each other?’

I nodded in defeat. This was not the victory I had envisioned; this was not a victory at all. She called Thea back inside to get me up off of the floor, since I could not stand on my own, and she took me back to the ward. Rhoda and Yvette were both glad to see me. Both of them thought I had died in the shed and were pleasantly proven wrong as they held me. I enjoyed their contact, their warmth. It felt as though it had been months since I’d seen them last, not days.

BOOK: Wilhelmina A Novella
3.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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