Katherine

by S. A. Glenn

  CHAPTER 33

  Katherine had inherited the restaurant. While she managed the place, a young woman she had hired did the cooking. Together, they kept the business thriving as usual.

  Every day before school started Katherine helped Cybil, the new employee, get the restaurant ready. Then Katherine would head off to teach until 3:00. After school she returned to the restaurant to help Cybil. Once the place closed, Katherine worked at the saloon till 11:30. Samuel would pick her up and take her home.

  Cybil lived in Katherine’s old room as part of her earnings. Sara’s and Samuel’s old rooms were rented out as well. All the extra money had Samuel and Katherine financially well off.

  They decided to work on having a baby. They made love every night, sometimes twice.

  SUMMER 1872

  It was June 22. Katherine had been off from teaching since the first of the month. She was working full-time at the restaurant, leaving around 9:00 p.m. for the saloon. Occasionally, Louis Pierre showed up, giving Katherine substantial tips for her powerful piano playing. As the nights became increasingly warmer, that brought Louis Pierre out every night to watch Katherine perform. He was enthralled by her talent and undeniable beauty. He sat in the dark corner watching her, imagining what it would be like to have her as he had her mother. He had been playing it cool with Katherine, not letting her know the seductive thoughts that ran wild in his mind. He yearned to know what her young, sweet breath smelled like in the heat of her passion, and what her lips would taste like when she moaned in ecstasy. All he could do for now was imagine it.

  At the end of her last set, he called her over to him. A single, long, white candle on the table dripped wax, giving off a romantic glow. He stood and pulled out a chair for her, scooting her close to him. He poured a glass of Beaujolais and slid it to her.

  “Merci beaucou, Louis. I am quite thirsty.”

  “There is plenty more,” he explained, displaying the bottle for her.

  “I see that, but I really should not drink too much.”

  Talking and sipping wine, they became induced with alcohol late into the night. Louis pulled out a small container from inside his jacket, sat it onto the table and opened it.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  “Cocaine,” he answered, putting a pinch to his nostrils, sniffing hard.

  “What does it do?”

  “It elevates you. Here, try it.” He slid the metal box toward her.

  She shrugged, giving a big smile. “Okay.” She did as he did. Her eyes grew big. “Wow! That made me feel really good! May I have another… ?”

  “There is plenty, be my guest.”

  As they enjoyed themselves, inhaling pinch after pinch, Katherine finished her wine and poured another hefty glassful. She took a big drink, laughed and carried on with Louis.

  Samuel entered and saw his wife, and the man whom he believed had several hidden agendas, making merry. He showed irritation at the scene as he stood at their table. “Kat! It’s time to go home.”

  She peered up at his serious face with glossy eyes, responding with a giggle. “Come, Sam. Sit. Have a drink.”

  “Monsieur Simms. It is good to see you! Please, have a seat. Join our party.”

  “No, thank you. Kat, let’s go!”

  “In a bit. I am having a good time.”

  “If you’re not outside in two minutes, I’m leaving.”

  She glanced up at him and rolled her eyes.

  Samuel swung around and headed out the door.

  Katherine gulped down more wine and took another pinch of cocaine. She talked Louis’ ear off, sounding like she had forgotten about her husband. She and he continued living it up. Before the saloon closed, they found themselves at the mansion.

  “Hurry, Louis,” Katherine said, stumbling out of the carriage. “You promised me all the coca I desire.”

  “And you shall receive it, but be careful, my dear. I do not wish for you to hurt your precious body,” he said, winking at her with a lustful grin.

  “Is Fréderic going to join us?”

  “I do not believe so. He does not partake in this sort of thing.”

  “Too bad! Oh, well. That is more for us.”

  They entered the home, giddy. Making their way to the parlor, Katherine plopped down onto the davenport.

  “I will not be but a moment,” stated Louis, leaving for the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Do not keep me waaiitiinng,” she drew out, kicking off her shoes. “I’d do anything to feel good again,” she said to herself.

  “Here I am, my lovely Katherine.” He held a bottle of wine and two glasses. He sat them down onto the table in front of her, then pulled out his metal container with white powder all over its sides.

  Katherine’s eyes focused on the coca box. She reached for it, but he pulled it away. “Louis, I need it!” she begged.

  “First, my love. Let us have a drink.” He filled their glasses full. He slid her glass toward her then said, “Now, if you want more of this cocaine, you have to do as I say.”

  “Fine! Whatever! What do you want me to do?” She rolled her eyes.

  “Drink!”

  She picked up her glass, sipped, and began to set it down.

  “No, keep drinking.”

  She put the glass to her lips, swallowed, swallowed, swallowed…

  “Keep drinking, keep drinking,” he instructed.

  She finished more than half of the glass. With her eyes crossed, she sat down the glass. “It’s so hot in here,” she said, fanning her face. “May I have more cocaine, now?”

  “Just one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes! Take off your dress,” he commanded. “It will help you cool off.”

  “Very well.” She stood, unbuttoned and dropped it to the floor.

  “Good girl. Here is your reward.” He dumped out enough to keep her happy for a bit and sat next to her, knowing that he had her wrapped around his finger.

  The next morning Katherine was awakened by Cybil. Katherine had slept on the old oak bench upstairs, not recalling how she got there, but knowing that her head was pounding with pain.

  “Ma’am,” said Cybil, “your husband is downstairs worried about you. I told him you were okay, that you’ve been sleeping.”

  “What time is it, Cybil?”

  “Nearly 7:30.”

  “Oh, my goodness!” Katherine stood quickly, holding onto the back of the bench, her head spinning. “How do I look?” she asked, straightening her hair then her dress.

  “Like you had a rough night.”

  “Let’s go downstairs. I need orange juice.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They got to the kitchen, Katherine sat, waiting for Cybil to pour a glass of juice.

  Samuel walked in from the dining room not looking pleased with his wife. “What the hell happened to you last night, Katherine? I left the saloon and went home. I went back to get you, and you were gone. I figured you were with that Louis Pierre, sleeping in his bed.”

  As soon as Samuel mentioned Louis Pierre, bits and pieces of the wild night popped into her head. She recalled going to the mansion, drinking a large amount of wine—but everything after that became a blur. Not wanting Samuel to scold her, she said, “I was drunk. I came here shortly after you left and fell asleep.”

  “Kat, please. When I come to pick you up, leave with me,” he begged. “Don’t put me through having to worry about you. And besides, I need my rest. I can’t stay out late when I work the next day.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. Forgive me.”

  “You’re forgiven, Kat. I love you.”

  During the next two weeks while Katherine performed, Louis was there, faithfully. On her breaks they sat togeth
er snorting cocaine. Soon before Samuel arrived, Louis would leave to keep their relations a secret.

  One mid-summer’s eve, Louis was waiting for Katherine to finish for the night. After playing her last note, he stood and applauded. She made her way to him, expecting to have the good life with him. “Hello, Louis darling. You have the stuff?”

  “Of course. I shall not let you down—just do not let me down,” he made clear, setting down the box.

  She snatched it, took out a big pinch and sniffed it up her nostrils. “What do you want, Louis” she asked, wiping her nose, already knowing his program.

  “I want you to meet me behind the saloon.” He made his way outside.

  She nodded with a showy smile, treated her nose to more candy, then put the box between her breasts. She made her way through the bat-wing doors and joined him out back between the saloon and trash containers. She stood against the wall and faced him, desiring the drug more than her self-respect. Extracting the little, black box from her bosom, she took another snort to numb her emotions, then crammed the box with the white substance back into its place.

  Katherine turned and faced the wall like the good girl she was, surmising what she must relinquish. She felt her dress being pulled up, exposing her nakedness. She grabbed her buttocks and spread them. The memories of what had happened once before invaded her thoughts like a rogue army conquering a helpless town in the middle of the night. But she wasn’t as innocent as she claimed to be to herself. As a matter of fact, she was guilty, guilty of being a whore. I have no right to feel like a victim of anything, she thought to herself with anger.

  But things stored in her memory played on, and the past lived again. She saw Louis at the mansion, forcing her to drink wine. And she felt him lapping up wine from between her breasts like a sick dog while he lay atop her and roughhoused her. A tear ran down her cheek as she realized that this was not the life she wanted. Not even the cocaine could deaden that heartsickness.

  In a quick motion he slid himself inside her, pounding her over and over. Katherine felt pain between her legs. But it wasn’t as painful as the affliction in her heart.

  Twenty minutes later, with self-gratification, Louis Pierre completed his dirty deed. But to him it was simply business: she owed him payment, and he took what she allowed him to acquire. He pulled up his trousers, then kissed her cheek. “I must get home,” he said. “Keep this between us. Remember, I have a reputation to uphold. And thank you for your services, my quean. See you tomorrow.”

  She stood there motionlessly as she watched him disappear around the corner. She heard his carriage depart. Pulling herself together, she then headed back into the saloon and sat at the corner table in the dark, despising herself for stooping to the level she had lowered herself to. She snatched the damn little black box from its hiding place and opened it. She gazed down at the white crystals, then turned the little black box over and watched the stuff slowly pour out onto the wooden floor. “No more!” she declared.

  CHAPTER 34

  Early the next morning Katherine hurried out of bed, rushed into the bathroom and vomited. Samuel came out of his deep sleep, awakened by his wife’s heaving. He dashed over to her and kneeled down next to her with his hand on her back. “Are you okay, Kat?” he asked, reaching for a cloth.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she explained, taking the cloth from him.

  “Are you done?”

  “Yes, Sam. Help me up, please.”

  “Let me take you back to bed.” Helping her onto the bed, he scurried off to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. “Here, Kat. Drink.”

  “No, Sam. I don’t want anything!”

  “Please, Kat, take a sip, at least.”

  She took the glass and smiled at his concern, swallowing a small draft.

  He grasped the glass and set it aside. “I want you to see Doc Henderson, Kat. To make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m sure I’m fine, but I’ll do as you say.”

  “Good! I’ll hook up the carriage then we’ll go.”

  At the doctor’s Samuel waited outside as Katherine was examined. A bit later she came out with a smile but sadness in her heart: she did not know who was responsible for her condition. Praying that it was her husband she could give the credit to, she stood in front of him, taking his hands.

  “What is it, Kat? You’re alright, then?”

  “I’ve got morning sickness.”

  “Oh, no, Kat! Is there a cure? Is it contagious?”

  “I’m fine, Sam. I’m going to have a baby!”

  He stared at her without emotion.

  “Say something, Samuel. This is what we wanted, right?” she peered deep into his eyes, searching.

  “Yaaahooo!” he exclaimed with a warranted smile. He tossed his hat into the air, picked her up and spun her around. “Oh! Gees! Kat, I’m sorry.” He put her down and looked at her stomach. “I didn’t mean to crowd the little one.”

  “It’s okay, Sam. So, you’re alright with this?”

  “Am I alright with this? Of course! I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted, now! I love you, Kat. And I love you, little one,” he said, kissing Katherine’s belly. “We have our own child made from us!”

  “Yeah, from us, Sam,” she said with a shallow smile.

  “I’ll take good care of you and our baby, don’t you worry!”

  His words brought her joy, yet torment: His innocence and her guilt caused her an internal war. She smiled, hiding her pain. “I know you will, Samuel.”

  Samuel walked to work, leaving the carriage with Katherine. Debating on what she must do next, she decided to ride out to the mansion to discuss things with Louis Pierre. Getting there just before lunch, she found him out at the shooting range unloading his pistol. She stood at his side as he reloaded.

  “Louis. We need to talk,” she declared.

  “What an elating surprise, Katherine. What brings you here? Do you need more of the—”

  “No! I am done with that! And with you and your touching me! I love my husband! We are going to have a baby. I do not want any more of you! Is that clear?”

  “I see.” His voice was calm, yet conceited. He slapped closed the chamber of his gun. “And how do you know that that baby is not ours?”

  “I just know,” she stated with turmoil, denying the possibility of it. “Good-bye, Louis!” she commanded as she turned and walked away.

  “Do not turn your back on me, Katherine!” shouted the Frenchman, heavy in his accent.

  She raised her hand to let him know to stop talking.

  “How dare you treat me this way, you whore! I want what I want, and I will get it! I am in control! I expect all of my women to show the upmost respect for my commands! I am LOUIS PIERRE! I can have anyone I wish!” he bellowed.

  “Not me, you cannot!”

  “AHHH!” He pointing his handgun in her direction and fired three shots. “You will pay for this disrespect toward me! That baby is mine!”

  CHAPTER 35

  AUGUST 21, 1872

  The next morning Samuel left Katherine for the field. He was a bit concerned about how she was acting: being fidgety, picking at a tear in the sofa; but he trusted that she was going to safe. He stood on the front porch, taking in a breath of fresh air. Realizing it was going to be scorching day, he patted his jug of water, knowing he could not survive without it. He gazed over at the chimes moving in the breeze, listening to them play an uplifting melody. Making his way down the steps, he tromped over to the barn, happier than he had ever been. After feeding his horse, he packed up his harvesting tools then headed for the crop.

  Tying off his steed under the trees, he removed his brand new instruments for cutting wheat. He gazed out into the dense crop, watching it sway in the gust of wind, appearing like waves in the ocean.
For the next fifteen hours, he worked laboriously in the arid heat. He gathered many bushels of grain, knowing he would receive a pretty penny for his efforts.

  As dusk approached, he collected the last of the day’s cut, packed it into the wagon then headed for the barn. After unloading everything, he journeyed into the house, tired, hungry, and dirty. “Kat! I’m home!” he yelled then listened for a response, but all there was, was the chirping of the crickets outside. He walked into the kitchen then to the steps at the top of the cellar. The cellar door was cracked open. “Katherine!” he called, too afraid to venture downward. Stillness was his answer. He removed his hat and scratched his head. With a sigh, he said, “She must be at the restaurant or saloon. Guess I’ll make my own dinner, but after a bath: I’m filthier than a pig in the mud.”

  Once he was done bathing and eating, he decided to go to town and look for Katherine. He didn’t find her at the restaurant; and as a matter of fact, Cybil hadn’t seen her all day. Moving onward, he walked through the saloon doors, his eyes focused at the piano area, but not a sign of his wife. Perplexed, he stepped over to Jesse Frost. “Mr. Frost, have you seen Katherine?”

  “I haven’t seen her since last night, Samuel,” he replied, wiping a glass dry with his towel.

  “Bartender, a round of beers on me!” yelled a customer, getting everyone aroused; except for Samuel who was lost in his thoughts.

  “Pardon me, Samuel. I’ve got glasses to fill.”

  Samuel nodded with a dauntless smile. He trekked out the door, leaving the happy customers. Thinking harder, Samuel concluded that his wife must be with Louis Pierre. “Where else could she be?!” he pointed out to himself. Climbing onto his bronco, he rode home; mixed feelings of disappointment and anger clouded his mind.

  The next morning Samuel awakened alone in their bed to the crow of the rooster. Katherine was in his head and he needed to know what was going on with her. He rushed into his clothes and hurried out the door. Finding himself at the restaurant, he darted into the establishment and found Cybil in the kitchen. “Is Katherine upstairs, sleeping on the bench again?”