Beauty

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Beauty Page 6

by Kris Calvert


  I stepped back and inhaled the immediate warmth, placing my hands in front of me. Using the poker, I adjusted Rays stack of logs and headed to the kitchen. I needed soup and I needed it badly.

  The old closet we’d been using as a pantry smelled musty and I knew that the kitchen was the one thing that I couldn’t wait to completely gut. I had no intention of leaving anything behind in the old room. I wanted a gourmet kitchen, even if I wasn’t much of a cook. If I ever did decide to sell Park Ave there were two aspects of the house I knew needed to be aesthetically pleasing: the kitchen and the master suite.

  I opened a can of tomato soup and poured it into the pan before turning the gas on for the burner, lighting another match to fire it up. The weather kicked up outside and the harder it stormed, the more leaves fell from the sky, matting themselves together on every path I’d cleared in the back yard. A roll of thunder shook the house and I jumped and let out a shriek.

  “Dammit,” I mumbled, mad at myself for being startled so easily.

  It only took a couple of minutes for the soup to boil and by the time I’d located the saltine crackers and pepper mill in the pantry, my dinner was done.

  Pulling a bowl from the top shelf, I teetered on my toes, trying not to bring the entire stack down on my head. “Damn you, Ray,” I said thinking of how tall he was in comparison to me. I stopped momentarily and spied a short ladder in the corner of the room. Bingo.

  The retching sound the ladder made as I dragged it across the floor hurt my head and I picked it up for the final three paces before opening it proudly. “There. Dammit.”

  I climbed almost to the top to reach the bowl and I realized I could see so much more. Taking two more rungs up in order to straighten the entire stack, the whole operation was hanging precariously near the edge of the shelf.

  I moved the stack backwards only to find that it wouldn’t budge.

  Too dark to see anything, I took my one soup bowl and made my way down the ladder. Pulling a flashlight from the junk drawer, I flipped the switch and began to ascend the ladder again. Focusing on the rungs as I stepped higher and higher, I felt another cold chill take me over as if someone ran an icy finger down my spine. Knitting my shoulders tightly, I shook it off and shone the light onto the top shelf as I tried to push the stack backward.

  “What tha’?” I said as I shifted the white porcelain bowls, trying to work them back onto the shelf.

  Finally giving up, I shoved the seldom-used salad plates stacked to the left even further into the corner of the cabinet, making way for the stubborn bowls.

  “Shit!” I jumped at the loud snap of the trap, losing my balance on the ladder and falling to the hard tile floor while the mouse writhed violently, his tail still swinging back and forth off the edge of the shelf.

  My head hit the ground with a crack as lightning flashed and a loud clap of thunder rolled through the house shaking the windows. I screamed not only because I’d been startled, but worse there was a mouse in my house. “Oh shit! Oh shit!” I pushed myself up, stumbling to my feet to get as far away as possible from the thrashing rodent.

  I caught my breath and rubbed the lump on the back of my head with a shaking hand. I screamed again as one last roll of thunder shook the foundation while I watched the mouse give into death.

  Still clutching the flashlight in my hand, I backed my way out of the kitchen allowing the swinging door to close, leaving my soup cooling on the stovetop. I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  Turning my back, I hurried into the parlor looking for my phone. I sat in a heap on the overstuffed couch and crossed my legs under me trying to warm and comfort myself. It wasn’t working. The flashlight sprayed a beam of light into the fireplace.

  I turned to look over my shoulder out the window and gasped at the spectacle of light repeating itself like a fireworks show.

  The lights in the parlor flickered only long enough for me to groan, “Nooo!” before going completely black.

  Turning the flashlight to illuminate the wall across from me, I sighed. “At least I have this.”

  I’d barely verbalized the thought when I noticed the once bright stream of light growing dim. It took only a minute for it to completely die.

  “Well, shit.”

  7

  ELIZA

  The sound of my phone woke me as I uncrossed my stiff legs from the couch and placed them on the floor. The fire had nearly gone out and I answered while reaching for the poker in one motion.

  “Lizzie?”

  “Yeah,” I said, wiping the stray hair from my face with the back of my hand before stoking the dying embers.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I cradled the phone in my shoulder and picked up two more logs, tossing them into the fireplace hoping it would catch again.

  “You called and left me a crazy message. I’m sorry. I just now picked it up.”

  “What time is it?” I asked as I sat back down in the dark room knowing the electricity was still off.

  “It’s two in the morning. I just got back to the hotel.”

  “How’d it go?” I asked.

  “Great. I sold four paintings just tonight. The gallery will keep everything for another two weeks. Hopefully I can sell a few more.”

  “That’s wonderful, babe.”

  “Hey,” he said bringing his voice down. “Back to your message. Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Well, I fell and busted my ass and my head. I think a tornado blew down Park Avenue tonight but I can’t be sure because we have no electricity. There’s one thing I am sure of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We have rats.”

  “Shit.”

  Ray got quiet and I suddenly realized that someone had to set that trap and it sure as hell wasn’t me. “You knew that already, didn’t you?”

  “We don’t have rats. There was a stealthy mouse in the kitchen and I knew the only way to get rid of it was to—you know…”

  “Oh, it you know-ed alright. It you know-ed…tonight. While I was up on a ladder fishing for a soup bowl, watching it wiggle and writhe without hope against the steel snare that snapped his little vermin neck. Then I plunged to the ground, hitting my head right before the storm of the century knocked out our power.”

  “That was quite a description.”

  “I’m a writer. It comes with the territory.”

  “Are you still in the dark?”

  “I’m in front of the fireplace downstairs.”

  “Did you call the power company to report the outage?”

  “No.”

  “But you did call me to sing.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked as I pulled the blanket up to my chin, slouching down in the corner of the couch. I rubbed the knot on the back of my head in an insistent circle, wondering where the closest bottle of Advil might be.

  “The song, Lizzie. The creepy-ass fucking song.”

  “Have you been drinking?” I asked.

  My question was met with an exasperated sigh. “Ray, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Seriously?”

  I could hear the snark in his voice and after the night I’d had I didn’t appreciate it in the least. “Look, I’ve spent my night battling rodents, the darkness and a storm that Zeus himself sent from the mountaintop. I’m extremely proud of you and I wish I could’ve been there. I’m also extremely tired so just tell me what you want me to say.”

  “Nothing.” The word rolled off his tongue landing deadpan. I knew he was giving up first.

  We sat in silence and the fresh logs popped in the fireplace, already engulfed in flames. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come off bitchy. It’s late. Let’s talk tomorrow?”

  I said the words as a question, but I really meant them as a statement. I didn’t want to talk anymore. Tomorrow I would have a saner head on my shoulders. More silence.

  “Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “I l
ove you Horatio Huxley,” I replied, softening my voice. “I really do.”

  “I love you too, Eliza. Get some sleep.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I waited for him to tell me goodnight. He didn’t. And with three tones I knew the call was over.

  8

  BEAUTY

  I awoke to a pounding below my room and was quickly reminded of the day before as my body ached in places I didn’t know I could feel pain. I was cold, hungry and worried. I lay on my back and stared at the peeling paint on my ceiling. I played out every scenario in my head as to what could’ve happened to my drawings and writings. Surely Anna had taken them directly to Boris. When he saw I had maps of the castle and a plan, I would surely be locked away in the tower away from everyone else.

  “You can’t keep me here!” I heard from below.

  The pounding had turned into shouting and it was reaching a fever pitch. I pulled myself from the bed with the grace of an elderly woman—the muscles in my side aching with each breath I took. Grabbing at my ribs trying to ease the ache, I made my way to the window. On the grounds below was the blue-eyed girl from yesterday. At least I think it was yesterday. The days had become a cacophony of jumbled memories.

  I stared down at her and as our eyes met, she stopped shouting for only a moment. In her silence I knew she was like me—a captive—a person who didn’t belong. Solomon wrenched the girl’s arms behind her back and tied her up as he wrangled her into the building.

  I turned away from the shouting and noticed the door to my chambers ajar. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I walked the short hallway to the toilets. The closer I got, the more putrid the smell.

  “Stop it! Stop it!”

  I could hear the echo of someone crying as I pushed open the swinging door to the rancid toilets. The sleepy haze cleared from my eyes as I saw Zara, kicking and screaming. She was strapped to a chair, naked while the queen supervised the scrubbing of Zara’s frail skeleton with a brush—dousing her with buckets of water. Chill bumps covered her body and were only masked by the purple and green bruises that covered her skin.

  I stared into Zara’s face and felt the tears well in my eyes as she gave up her fight and turned her head away, slumping in the chair.

  “Get out!” Anna shouted at me.

  I pointed toward the toilet as another guard burst through the door and grabbed me by the arm to rush me out of the room, tossing me to the floor. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could wanting it to all go away.

  “Beauty?”

  The deep voice called to me in an echo.

  “You deal with her. I’ve got to get back.”

  Opening my eyes I could see the shiny shoes that could only belong to my prince. I dropped my shoulders in relief, keeping my eyes downward. I could only whisper his name. “Edmund?”

  Stooping to the floor, Edmund placed his warm hand on my shoulder. “Let me help you get back to your room.”

  I nodded slowly in agreement as I took his hand and did my best to stand. “I just wanted to…you know. I have to…”

  Edmund looked away from me before speaking. I appreciated his discretion. It was disgusting enough that I needed to go, but to have to tell him about it was horrifying. “Let me get you back to your room and I’ll send something in for you.”

  I nodded again and took his hand as he wrapped his strong arm around my body and nearly carried me back to my chambers. “What’s happening to Zara?”

  “She’s leaving,” Edmund said under his breath.

  “Leaving?” I asked lifting my voice. “Where?”

  “Shhh…. I don’t know.”

  As we reached my chambers, Edmund escorted me to the bed and sat me down. I watched him move about the room, strong and able and I realized how frail and weak I’d become. I barely ate, rarely got sunlight and with the recent beatings by Anna I didn’t feel on the outside as if I was the young princess I knew myself to be on the inside.

  Sitting down I crossed my legs and panicked, barely able to hold it any longer.

  “Hang on,” Edmund said with a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

  Crossing my legs tighter, I held my breath and my bladder.

  “I’ll leave you alone with this,” Edmund said as he placed the chamber pot on the floor and I turned my head in embarrassment. “I’ll send someone in for it in just a bit.”

  I stared out the window and nodded.

  “Hey, it’s all right,” he said in a reassuring tone. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Closing the door behind him, I rushed to the chamber pot to relieve myself and could no longer hold in my tears. I didn’t deserve this. I was better than this. I was getting out.

  My usual blue dress with the white flowers was gone. Taken from my armoire and replaced with a plainer, solid white dress, I put it on and turned only once in my room. The dress wasn’t as beautiful as I wanted, but at least it was clean. The blue dress had been stained with dirt from the garden and the floor of my chamber, not to mention soiled with the heel of Anna’s boot.

  I sat at my desk. With no pen and no paper, I had nothing but my thoughts–nothing but my thoughts and my mirror. Picking up the oak frame, I stared at my reflection in the darkness. As I adjusted the tiara on top of the thick mound of blonde curls, I smiled at myself and made a plan. I didn’t need the maps to leave. I’d detailed it all in my head thousands of times. I could do it. But where would I go after I left Rosewood? And what about Edmund?

  A soft knock came at my door and I quickly turned the mirror over.

  “Are you in here?” Edmund’s voice was low and soothing to me.

  “Come in, Edmund.”

  He opened the door and closed it behind him, careful not to make a sound. “How are you?”

  “Fine—I guess.” The puzzled look on my face must’ve clued him into to my confusion.

  “I’m here to take you—”

  “Boris,” I said flatly. “You’re here to take me to see Boris.”

  “I’m sorry. I am,” he said as he scanned the room, no doubt looking for the chamber pot he’d given me that morning.

  “Now?”

  He walked toward me, his watch jingling at his waist. “Do you not want to see him today? I can make something up. Tell him you had another spell and you’re sleeping.”

  I didn’t want to see the king today, and yet I knew if I went, I would be able to count my steps to freedom once more—just to be on the safe side. “No. Let’s go.”

  I walked past Edmund and paused. Turning to face him I did what I’d longed to do. I touched his hand, bringing it to my face. I loved the way he smelled, the warmth of his skin, the way I felt safe when I was around him. When he didn’t pull away, I stared up at him and batted my eyes. “Why do I feel so wonderful when I’m with you?”

  He pursed his lips, hesitating at first, but then spoke. “I don’t know. But I feel the same.”

  I couldn’t contain my smile and I stood as tall as I could on my toes to kiss his cheek. His face was soft and I turned my nose into his jaw, not wanting the moment to end.

  “Beauty,” he whispered in my ear as his arms embraced my body. “I have to get you out of here.”

  I looked into his dark eyes and nodded. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  He kissed my forehead, allowing himself to linger on my skin. Begging him with my eyes to kiss me, I released my neck and pursed my mouth ever so slightly.

  Slowly, his lips touched mine and I could feel my mouth tremble with anticipation. Then Edmund kissed me again—this time with hungry intention. I met his every advance with all the emotion I’d bottled up over the years while watching the world turn outside my window. It all came to this one moment in time—the moment where I met the prince of my heart—the man of my dreams.

  When the kiss was finally over, I was weak in the knees, my head was spinning out of control and for the first time I felt euphoric without succumbing to the darkness.

  “Beauty,” he began as he backed away. “I sho
uldn’t have done that.”

  “Why not?” I asked following him across the room.

  “You’re not. I’m not…not like this. Not this way.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I need to get you out of Rosewood. Let me do that. Then we can—”

  “We can what?”

  “We can move on with our lives. Be what we want to be.”

  I nodded and he pulled his watch from his coat pocket. “We need to hurry. Boris will be asking what took so long.”

  Edmund held out his arm, beckoning me to walk ahead of him. But what I really wanted was to walk beside him—hold his hand. Instead, I brushed my fingers across his as if it were a happy accident. Stopping in the doorway, I stood as tall as I could on my toes, grabbing his arm to bring his face closer to mine. Edmund leaned into me and kissed my warm cheek with the agility of a butterfly landing and taking off from a flower—softly, but with authentic purpose.

  “Don’t,” I said as I whisked past him, stopping directly outside my door. I needed to have a clear head before I began to count my steps and I knew from the heat in my cheeks and the look on his face that my head was anything but clear.

  “You know, Beauty.” Edmund looked away, his face now as flushed as mine. “I would do anything for you.”

  “Anything?” I whispered as I waited in vain for him to look me in the face. Instead he shut the door to my chambers, turning his back to me to lock the door.

  “Yes.”

  “Edmund.” Solomon’s voice startled me and I flinched, instinctively balling my hands into fists at the sound.

  “Yes?” Edmund replied turning away from the door.

  Solomon looked me up and down and I brought my clenched fists to my face, afraid if he saw them he’d think I was about to attack. Zara had once told me to never look as if I was going to do something. It was always best to surprise them, she’d said. I wanted Solomon to know I was cold, not looking to pick a fight with him or anyone else. Especially after witnessing what happened to Zara this morning.

  “Boris wants you to get her to him now. He’s waiting.”

 

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