Darkest Pattern- The Door

by Riva Zmajoki

  “No, no, no,” Belva pushed her in the chair and sat in her lap. “You must understand this immediately. You can’t ever save everyone because not everyone wants to be saved. All you can do is to open the door towards a safe destination and those who exit through them will save themselves.”

  “That’s what you did for me,” Josephine hugged her. “That’s what you do for all.”

  “I don’t do anything, really,” Belva shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just a door.”

  Josephine felt tears welling her eyes.

  She wasn’t tired of life at all. She was grateful for all the fortunes that came her way.

  13.1 The Witch

  Charcoaled House

  “How do you mean you’re drafted?” Sue was confused. “You already served in the army.”

  “The war is coming. I’m needed,” William said to her like it was an understandable thing.

  “You mean to tell me that you’ll go and fight for this silly separation from the Union? It’s a rebellion, you owe no allegiance to them.”

  “It’s our country, we must follow where our leaders are leading us,” William said firmly. “Besides, I would be caught as a deserter if I don’t show up.”

  “Then we’ll run,” Sue opened the closet and started to take out her clothes.

  “We can’t run. A man can’t run away from war. It’s my duty to fight,” William tried to stop her packing.

  “If you have to fight, you go. I’ll follow the rails towards freedom and find another life for Ina and me.”

  “Don’t be unreasonable,” William was upset now.

  “I’m very reasonable. You said that you’ll listen to me when we married, you promised that you won’t betray me again. Now you want to go off and fight for slavery? Don’t you love me at all?”

  “What would you want me to do?” William rose his voice. “Run across the border? Betray my uncle? Who will support us?”

  “You can find work there,” Sue shrugged her shoulders. “If you want to go in the war so much cross the border with me and go fight the war but on the right side.”

  “How can I do that? Where will you be until I fight? Here you’ll have protection.”

  “Protection of who? Your uncle who can’t stand the look of me? Your mother who doesn’t speak to us? There is no leisure for us here, only the pay you get. You’ll be paid on the other side too.”

  “But who will take care of you while the war lasts?”

  “I’ll go and find my mistress. I have her address, she sent it through the safe house some time ago.”

  “That’s what you want? To leave me for her?”

  Sue looked at him surprised.

  “She’s Ina’s godmother. She’ll take us in and give us work. You can go with us and we can reunite when the war is over. If you stay here, don’t look for me. I’m going in either case.”

  “You’re heartless. When did you become heartless?”

  “While I stood before the altar alone. I live with you but you don’t have my trust. You can earn it back but you keep making the same decisions, the ones that keep you away from me.”

  “How will you find that trail? You’ll never make it on your own,” he pleaded.

  “Then its luck that I’m not alone,” she said and led him to their storage in which he never entered.

  William was speechless looking at four people in their home.

  “You can betray us now but I will be with them and will Ina. We move out when it gets dark. You decide will you go or not.”

  Sue turned her back to him so he couldn’t see her tears.

  When it was time to move out, he wasn’t there.

  “Let’s go,” she said to runaways.

  They were already on the edge of the woods and Sue was crying silently.

  “Wait,” there was a whisper behind them.

  William was running towards them with a bag over his shoulder. Sue hugged him tightly.

  “Where you go, I go,” he said quietly. “If you say so I believe that you’re right.”

  They crossed the river Jordan in the dark. Their conductor insisted that Sue, William and Ina cover their faces with dark fabric.

  “You’re too light, it’s like you’re a beacon in the dark.”

  They crossed the border. William escorted them all the way to her mistress.

  “We’ll take care of them,” Josephine said to William as Sue observed her companion.

  Her face seemed familiar but Sue couldn’t place it.

  “The warrant was on the sheriff’s wall,” the woman said smiling at her. “It probably stayed stuck in your head. Come in. I’m Belva, let us give you something warm.”

  Sue didn’t turn around when William went into the darkness to search for his war. She kept her gaze on Ina’s face and warmed her face over the cup of tea.

  William was dear to her. She hoped that he’ll return for her. Still, as he went she repeated to herself that she had before her all that she needed. Her beautiful daughter was safe and in her care. That was all that she could hope for in this uncertain world.

  Instead of searching for a new position, Carol went to the old burnt down house. He walked around the ruins of White Phoenix. The phoenix flew away so no one built it up from its ashes. All that was left was the Charcoaled House exposed for the world to see it.

  After he was done with looking at the ruins, he went to the cemetery and sat beside his master’s grave.

  The grave was full of grass. No one brought flowers to it. No matter how wise his master was, he didn’t find redemption before he died.

  “I decided that I don’t need it,” the master said to Carol upon his death bed. “I’m too old to change now. Besides, to find redemption I would have denounced my sins. I don’t feel like it.”

  Carol knew that his grave will look exactly the same if he doesn’t find redemption. His mistress flew away. Even if he found her, her door won’t open for him, he made sure of that.

  That’s why he’ll go and find a white tile by himself. Hopefully, his master was wrong about that. Surely, Carol wasn’t so blind to the flames that he won’t be able to find a white tile in all of this darkness. Its flames must be visible.

  “I failed you,” he said to the cold stone. “I wasn’t capable of keeping her in check. I’m not sure if she alive or not. I don’t care frankly. I don’t care about anything. Just like you taught me.”

  The wind started to blow and willows swayed in the wind.

  “But we did have fun, didn’t we. The best of times were while you still lived. The anticipation and forbidden made everything worth my while. Now even when I find pleasure there is no sting in it. I miss the rush and fear. I fear nothing anymore.”

  The grave stayed quiet but Carol could imagine him laughing that rich laughter of his.

  The night was late and Carol had nowhere to go.

  He didn’t have fear anymore so he went and knocked on the door at the end of the street beside the cemetery. Those were the doors that he skipped on the beginning.

  Now he saw why not. He did try everything else. Why not step on the darkest of tiles one more time before he goes out to find a white one?

  The door opened and Lady Wilhelmina smiled at him like she was expecting him all this time.

  “I came to…” he started but she just waved interrupting him.

  “Of course, you came. Come in,” she led him into her small kitchen.

  The house was quiet. He looked around.

  “I live alone for years now,” she said pulling out a chair for him.

  “Isn’t scary for a woman to live alone like that,” he sat by her table. “Having a man in a house to protect you is always favourable.”

  He was warming up for the idea. To be the only man in the house would be the same as to be a king. Lady Wilhelmina didn’t look bad at all the years were good to her.

  “Scary,” she chuckled. “It is scary, I imagine. Here, have some tea to warm you up.”

  Carol drank
up the warm liquid and felt how the tension leaves his limbs.

  “This is nice,” he said sleepily. “What is it?”

  “Poison,” she laughed now.

  “Don’t joke around like that,” he frowned.

  “It was always a destiny for you to come to me. You’re mine from the start,” she smiled and he suddenly remembered her screaming at him when his master made her leave.

  “I’ll smite you if you try anything,” he tried to get up but his legs didn’t comply.

  “Wouldn’t you like to try,” she leaned in her rocking chair and took on her needlework.

  “The patrolmen will lock you up,” he growled but his strength was leaving him.

  “They might try,” she rocked her chair and his eyes got fixated on her needlework it seemed familiar. “But they are cowards, all of them. You said it yourself it’s scary for a woman to live alone, but not for me, for them. They fear me like nothing else in this world.”

  “Murderer,” he said with his last breath. “They’ll hang you for murder.”

  “They would if only they would find you. Who loves you enough in this world to come looking for you?”

  She looked in his eyes and smiled.

  “I thought so. It will be like you disappear and no one will care.”

  “You’ll burn in Hell for this,” he pushes the words through.

  “Probably,” she said as he chocked trying to breathe through his constricted throat. “Maybe I’ll see you there because that’s where you’re going.”

  Just before his eyes went dark, Carol recognized the pattern she was making. She made a tile pattern from the White Phoenix, the pattern of black and white tiles in the entry hall. The only difference was, that she worked only with the black threads and left the white tiles empty. She was weaving the net of the Charcoaled House with all the white tiles broken and turned into an endless abyss. The abyss looked at Carol and he knew he was falling through the cracked tiles.

  “Don’t worry,” Wilhelmina said with a smile concentrated on her web of threads. “I’ll keep you safe. In the hole in my basement. You’ll be mine. I promise that I’ll be a good master and won’t share you with anyone.”

  While it became dark around him, Carol hoped that he’ll get a nice position in Hell. If he’s lucky, he’ll meet his master in Hell and suffer together. His master made everything understandable. He would surely find words for this woman too.

  ‘A witch,’ he could hear a familiar whisper in his ear. ‘When a man travels downwards for a long enough, he will inevitably meet the witch. That is the time to run and not look back because the witch lost all the light that once burned within. All she wants is vengeance.’

  Carol couldn’t agree more with the voice from below that followed him even after his Master’s death instructing his every move on the flaming tiles of life but his legs weren’t working anymore. The dance ended.

  13.2 Freedom

  White Phoenix

  When they approached the battle line Cynthia fell behind. Now it seemed silly to follow the Marshal. She barely knew him. Who was to say that he would bother to protect her?

  She looked around searching for the place to hide.

  There was a white tent to her right so she ran towards her.

  “A new nurse, great,” a woman grabbed her hand. “Press here.”

  Before she knew someone threw a white apron above her head. She was doing what she was told while screaming men were carried in the stretchers.

  Cynthia was accustomed to taking orders. She was also used to the sight of blood and dying animals. She wasn’t shocked by the state of the men but by her ability to do what she was told, to help to stitch them up.

  “I never thought that stitching will be this useful,” she murmured.

  “Imagine that they are sheets,” the girl beside told her. “It helps me.”

  After countless hours the noise subsided. Cynthia stood there in the middle of wounded men confused by her dirty apron and hands.

  “Come with me, you need a smoke,” the girl told her and they stood before the tent to look at the sundown.

  The Sun looked the same.

  “Are you fighting a good fight?” the girl asked her.

  “What fight?”

  “For women’s rights. You look like that, like one of those confident women who are ready to march. I’m afraid that the war will take priority now but when the war ends I’ll surely join the marches.”

  “It sounds good to me,” Cynthia answered. “Anything that will keep me out of the removing faeces from beneath the lavatory.”

  The girl laughed.

  “You said that right. I’m Anne,” she extended her hand.

  “Cynthia,” she took it.

  “We’ll get along just nicely. Now back to work, the men are crying we need to help them live so we can fight them later.”

  Cynthia followed her into the tent and didn’t think of returning to her old life. When the battle ended Anne said that they lost and Cynthia withdrew with the Union troops to regroup and wait for another battle.

  When Santos finally appeared on her door, Tricia didn’t ask him any questions. She just stormed at him, slapped him hard across his face and then kissed him.

  He kissed her back holding her tightly.

  Soon, she came to her senses and got away from him.

  “Were you a spy for the Marshal?” she demanded to know.

  “Yes,” she stepped away but he grabbed her hand. “But only to protect you all. My father… my grandmother… I’m black.”

  “You’re not black,” she frowned.

  “My children might be like my father is,” he said defiantly. “If that bothers you I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Why would that bother me?” she was offended. “What does have to do with me what your children will look like?”

  “I do because they will be yours too,” he said breathlessly. “I’m ready to go before a priest right away. I don’t need my mother’s approval. We won’t live with her anyway. I’ll apply for a Federal Marshal.”

  “What? Then you’ll roam and leave me behind to wait?” she snorted.

  “Probably, sometimes,” he nodded. “Other times I’ll drag you around but I’m not a man who will sit down and be still while the world revolves so cruelly around us. If you want a man who will stay put, I’m not a man for you.”

  Tricia looked at him.

  “Why do you want me,” she looked down at her ruined hands. “It’s not the question what you have to offer me but what I can bring. You’ll get tired of me and just leave me to the bank as you search for a better life.”

  “I want you because I like to talk to you,” he said grabbing her by her waist. “While I was away, I was writing letters to you in my head. There are so many things I want to say to you, things only you could understand and not judge us. You said that you’re ruined but maybe that is the reason I want you. You broke and you repaired yourself. Now you can see the world like others can’t, with understanding.”

  “That is a lot of words for a small boy,” she smirked at him and he kissed her.

  “What are you think you’re doing,” her housekeeper startled them. “I don’t allow men in our house! Go back to work.”

  “A priest you say?” she smiled at Santos. “I hope he’s ready because I am.”

  She took off her apron.

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to find a new wash girl, this one is done,” she said and let Santos take her away.

  Santos finally felt free from his father, from his duty towards him. He felt free from his mother and her opinion of the world. He was free from his grandma and her crusade against the world.

  Santos was a free man. In an unfair world, his skin had the right tone. He could go out and find a job, make a life for himself and be loved. His children might be born black. For them, he has to keep on fighting just like his family taught him how.

  That fight will make a man who isn’t reliable out of him. It was
important to him that Tricia understands that. He needed a woman who will stand by his side no matter where his fight takes him.

  It seemed that Tricia understands. His mother didn’t understand. As a good son should, he took his new bride to his mother to meet her and his two sisters.

  His mother greeted him with her new husband by her side.

  “Of course, even you were unable to find your father. That vagabond just can’t be tamed.”

  Santos pressed his lips together. His father’s story didn’t concern her. She had denounced him first.

  “My wife had a child before,” he said to her deciding that he won’t lie.

  “You mean that she was married before? Well, that’s not a problem widows always worth more.”

  “No, she wasn’t married,” he said firmly and his mother frowned.

  There was silence between them.

  “There are ways of annulling marriages. As your mother, I can vouch for you. I know you’re in love now but a woman without morals isn’t a good companion, she’ll betray you sooner or later.”

  “Like you stayed faithful to father,” Santos said coldly.

  “That is another thing. He abandoned us. I had to take care of our family by myself,” she was upset. “The priest proved me right.”

  “I understand that and respect your choices. I am grateful but Tricia is my wife. I don’t expect of you to love her but I will demand respect. I’ll give you time to adjust.”

  “Where will you go?” she was upset. “I thought that you came home.”

  “The war is still waging,” Santos said calmly. “No, I won’t go enlist. I’m the only male heir of my father, he won’t have another one. It’s my duty to survive and have children to carry his name and legacy. Still, there are ways to help and I’ll find them. Firstly, I’ll earn my badge of a Federal Marshal. After that, I’ll see is there more I can do.”

  “You’re a spitting image of your father,” his mother said with tears in her eyes. “Oh, I wish you resembled him less.”

  “Thank you mother,” he bowed his head before her. “I’ll take that as a compliment and all the blessing I can receive from your hands.”

  She nodded and squeezed his hand.