by Eboni Snoe
“Kill myself.” Madame Deane said it for her. “Yes. That is exactly what I was trying to do,” she managed to say between breaths. “Kill myself. Perhaps that would rid Sovereign of everything that has happened since I was pushed in the well at Sharpe Hall. I cannot remember who did it but they should have done a more thorough job. Then I would be dead and not losing my mind.”
“No, Madame Helen. Do not say that.” Catherine helped her mistress get up. “You are just tired, that is all. And the medication is stronger than you are accustomed to.”
Like a lifeless puppet Madame Deane allowed Catherine to place her back into the wheelchair. Afterwards she said, “No, that is not all, Catherine. My life is no longer my own, and it is not worth living.”
The muffled thud of Ulysses’ bedroom door closing down the hall made Nadine hug her shoulders tightly. Only a few moments had passed when she brought her hands together as if she were in prayer. Her fingers felt chilled and wrinkled when she touched them with her lips.
Ulysses had not shown up for dinner. She had not seen him since his altercation with Basil. Nadine had dined alone. The doctor had come and given Madame Deane a strong sedative to calm her. Catherine was beside herself, trying to deal with her. Nadine had seen her in tears, fearful that ma-dame was on the brink of insanity.
For the first time Nadine believed she knew how easy, or maybe even convenient, losing your mind could be. Her own mind was working overtime. She was acutely aware of everything around her, as if her surroundings were closing in. Yet she had managed to stay back from the emotional waterfall that threatened to engulf her.
Nadine did not know how long she had lain in her bed waiting for Ulysses to return. It was as if she was performing her own private ritual as she lay nude, waiting on the white linen coverlet. The light of a resplendent moon reached through the window and bathed her in a nurturing glow. She examined her arms and breasts, aware of how the natural illumination turned her cinnamon skin to baked gold.
Nadine had gotten up slowly from the bed as she heard his footsteps advance down the hall, and seated herself in the chair before the antique dresser and large mirror.
In silence, with steady hazel eyes she sat and watched her reflection solely by the light of the moon. She had made up her mind. Tonight would be the night she would offer her love and her body to Ulysses. Because it was with love, and love alone, that she wanted to be taken for the first time. Ulysses was the man she loved, and she believed that in his own way, he loved her. He was the only man who had ever made her feel beautiful and worthy as a woman.
Nadine’s slightly trembling fingers combed through her spongy, amber twists as she looked at her face that was void of makeup. She had determined she wanted Ulysses to take her as she had come into the world. It was a symbol of her purity in mind, body, and heart. This was very important to Nadine, right down to the minutest detail. It was as if going to Ulysses in her purest form would outweigh and ward off whatever Basil had in store for her.
There was no question in Nadine’s mind she would go to Basil. She would go to him because of her love for Ulysses, because she, unlike her parents, would not abandon the one she loved. Nadine would go to him because it was a part of God’s plan and she had faith that He would not allow her to be harmed. He had sent her to Eros, hadn’t He? This had to be all a part of His plan. When the time came she would do whatever she could to keep Basil from taking any physical advantages of her. But maybe that was not his intention. Maybe he would listen to reason. She had to believe that he would.
Nadine thought about how far she had come in such a short period of time. Only yesterday her thoughts had been filled with the repercussions of making love for the first time, and now the same thoughts, were tainted with the possibility of being had by a man whose touch she could not tolerate. Life was indeed strange. Not even Gloria had been caught up in such a whirlwind of strange events.
But Nadine believed a power greater than her own had marked the way. It was her mind that needed logical reasons for the actions she had decided to take. Her heart was sure of its path.
A moonbeam accented the silky gown Nadine had hung on the outside of her closet door. She had been drawn to the small boutique on Barbados where she found it. Nadine knew, even then, that eventually she would wear it for Ulysses.
In the glass she watched the nearly weightless material respond to a feathery breeze. The tail of the beautiful white lingerie began to spread and flutter, bringing the profusion of black butterflies upon it to life. She smiled. It was a knowing smile. A reminiscent smile. Watching the gown was like watching the emergence of the surviving butterfly from the cocoon that had been spared so many years ago. Nadine had felt honored to be there that day to watch it fly away from its humble beginnings.
Tonight she was the butterfly, balancing in that space between virginity and full-fledged womanhood. A space that had confined and nurtured her for long enough. Now Nadine was poised on the brink of sexual freedom, and she was ready.
She slipped the thin white spaghetti straps off the hanger and held the nightgown against her. Even through the double layers of the airy material she could see her brown skin showing through. Carefully, Nadine allowed the garment to slide to the floor and with pointed toes she stepped into the center, easing the lingerie upward; a thick band of white, elasticized lace caught snugly beneath her breasts as she slipped the straps up on her shoulders. As she crossed the floor to take a final look, the delicate material glided in and out of her thighs and legs.
Nadine could hardly believe the reflection looking back at her was her own. The woman there exuded such elegance and beauty, and the look within her eyes was one of knowledge and understanding. Hers was not a face hiding behind Gloria’s experiences and understandings, but the face of a woman who had come into her own.
Some unfathomable feeling urged Nadine to spin as fast as her feet would carry her, causing the expansive tail of the gown to rise and the wings of the black butterflies to take flight. At that moment she felt akin to the almost mythical creatures, for she knew she was spreading her life’s wings in a direction that would never allow her to be the same after tonight.
Ulysses sat and gazed blankly into space, unconsciously raising the glass of rum to his lips. The events during the last twenty-four hours would have broken a lesser man, and deep in his heart he felt it would be easier to give in and let the forces that fought against him win. But when he thought of who those forces were, and of their motivation, he knew there was no way he would ever quit the fight.
It was true that Sovereign’s taxes were overdue, but he had known of other estate owners who had been in similar predicaments and the authorities had allowed them to “work them out” in a time frame that was much less pressuring. Ulysses had made this known to John, his attorney, on Barbados. John had agreed, but he had also confessed that some of the people in power were not too pleased about a man who was part Black owning an estate that for many years belonged to the upper class, two hundred European families that colonized Barbados and Eros.
Ulysses’ eyes blazed when he thought of Basil, whose hate for him was born many years ago, and also stemmed from prejudice. He cleared his throat as he finished the glass of rum. He knew far too well how a chain of events during a man’s youth could scar him for life.
As a young man Basil had always been a loner. He never had much to say during their tutoring sessions at Sharpe Hall. In retrospect, Ulysses realized Basil’s early years had been painful, but as a teenager he thought no one experienced pain deeper than his own.
He remembered once being shocked to see a barrage of new welts and old scars on Basil’s back as he caught him changing shirts before one of their lessons. He had gone back to Sovereign later that afternoon and told his Aunt Helen about it. Her only response had been Basil must have done something awful to receive such punishment from Henry Sharpe, for he was a wonderfully kind man. From that day on Ulysses had assumed that Basil was a wicked child, deserving of t
he abuse he received. He also believed the way Basil treated him proved he was capable of the horrendous deeds that spawned the beatings.
Yet Ulysses recalled a time when Basil seemed to change. It was springtime, and he was seventeen. Ulysses, who was fifteen, noticed Basil had begun to smile more, and would even try to engage him in conversation before the lessons. It was Basil’s last year of study.
Basil had begun to show a deep interest in Ulysses’ ancestry as well. He would seek him out and ask questions about the Egyptians and their culture. Ulysses would tell him the little he could, but since his mother died when he was seven, his knowledge had been very limited. That did not seem to matter to Basil, who would perk up at the slightest tidbit Ulysses was able to offer. They had even begun to develop a distant kind of friendship.
There was talk that Basil was being seen quite frequently in the workers’ neighborhood. Ulysses himself had seen him there when he visited the settlement, or on his way to the cliff dwellers’ side of the island. Ulysses found the workers’ children and the cliff dwellers refreshing and open with him, despite warnings that the cliff dwellers were a strange lot who could not be trusted.
It did not take long before he found out that Basil was interested in a girl named Salinah who lived in the settlement. She, like Ulysses, was part Egyptian.
Salinah was a very beautiful girl, with large brown eyes and a thick mane of coarse black curls that hung midway down her back. Though she was Ulysses’ age, many of the grown men were interested in her. She knew she was beautiful, and she used it to her advantage.
Every other day Basil would bring her a little token of his affection. In return Salinah would caress his face, kiss him gently, and reward him with the most enticing smile that Basil had ever received. He had grown to love her and planned to ask her to marry him. Basil knew the islanders respected his family name and that it would be a great honor for a worker’s daughter to marry a Sharpe. But before he went to Salinah’s father with his proposal, he decided to tell his father, Henry.
It had been a noble idea, born out of feelings of a young man in love for the first time. From the story the servants told, first Henry had shown great surprise, and then he looked into Basil’s young expectant face and laughed harder and deeper than anyone had ever heard him laugh before. When he finally caught his breath he told his son, “I tell you what, when you marry her, you better keep her locked up in one of the rooms at Sharpe Hall That is the only way you will be able to make sure the whore’s children are your own.”
The servants say those words sent Basil into a rage and he attacked his father, who continued to say vile things as he fought Basil off. “Get off of me, you crazy fool. Just about the whole island has had Salinah, including Ulysses. You are about the only male who has not.”
Almost crazed by the implication of his father’s words Basil took one of the donkey carts and rushed to find the girl. It was late, and the majority of his prior visits had taken place during the day. Salinah was not at home when Basil arrived, and he demanded to be told where he could find her: At first her aunt was hesitant to say, then finally she shook her head and crossed herself several times as she pointed to a couple of buildings that sat apart from the main row of houses.
Without thinking Basil rushed over and burst into the first building, and there he found a half-dressed Salinah with one of the island men. He flew at both of them with his riding crop, hurling all of the pent-up hurt and humiliation with each slash of his whip. The workers said the man managed to escape, but Basil cornered Salinah as she huddled on top of the cot, shielding her face and head from his lashes as best she could. In the end it took several of the men to restrain him.
After that day Basil had avoided him like the plague, and as the years passed, they did not speak to one another unless they were forced to. Ulysses gazed down into the swirling liquid in his glass. Yes, he had had sex with Salinah. It had been his first time, and she was the one who had initiated it.
Ulysses stood and removed his white linen shirt, tossing it on the divan. Glancing out his window he noticed the moon was almost at its peak. It brought Nadine to mind, and he thought of her sleeping several doors down. Ulysses began to study the moon. It looked so close, as if he reached out his hand he could touch it. But he knew nothing was further from the truth. Once again Ulysses was reminded of Nadine who appeared to be reachable, but was she really?
When Basil confronted him he had said she was an interesting part of what was going on, and that he believed she would be eager to appease him with sexual favors. Why had he brought Nadine into the discussion? She was an outsider who had nothing to do with Sovereign or Sharpe Hall.
Ulysses closed his eyes against’ his next thought, but it forced its way through. Unless there was more to her relationship with Basil than he wanted to believe: He continued to look at the moon. What if Basil was using Nadine to bait him? But how would Basil know how he felt about her? He could not unless Nadine had told him. Ulysses’ eyes narrowed with distrust for Nadine, and he could not help wondering if her actions were part of a ploy.
He took a swallow of rum. Even if Nadine was involved with Basil, Ulysses doubted she knew the true nature of the man. How sadistically cruel he could be because all women of African descent reminded him of his unfaithful Salinah. Ulysses threw the remainder of the rum down his throat, his body a silhouette against the moonlit window.
Chapter 24
The sound of his bedroom door opening surprised Ulysses. Nadine’s entrance into his room astounded him even more. His eyes narrowed as he watched her close the door then turn toward him.
Nadine could feel herself tremble as she looked into Ulysses’ face. It was not warm and welcoming as she had imagined it would be; instead it was full of suspicion, distrust. Seeing him look at her that way made Nadine feel disoriented, as if she were in a room with a stranger. More than anything else, Nadine needed Ulysses’ support, his understanding, even his friendship, but as she looked at him now, she felt they would never share those things.
She found herself searching for the proper words to say because, at that moment, all of the things she had planned to say seemed obscene and indecent. Nadine had wanted to offer her love to Ulysses, her body, but his cold reception made her intentions seem stupid, ill-conceived.
Suddenly, there was not enough air in the room. Nadine wanted to leave, put as much distance as she could between them, but her feet felt rooted to the floor.
Ulysses’ eyes widened as he took in the vision Nadine made standing riveted against the large oak door. With her head held proudly, her hands clinging to the door for support, her small breasts rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He could feel her fear, and he wondered why she had forced herself to come to him. Had Basil’s plan to undo him changed direction? Ulysses’ mind seemed cluttered with endless possibilities, but his voice was sharp as a freshly sharpened knife when he spoke. “What have we here?”
Nadine tried to swallow the lump in her throat as her eyes grew large from the disarming question. From it, she could see Ulysses was not going to make the situation any easier, and Nadine began to second-guess herself. Maybe she had misjudged his tenderness during their evening together, and now that she had come to him, he thought she was cheap. “I—I thought that . . .” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.
“I can tell what you were thinking, Nadine. A woman who comes to a man’s bedroom in a sheer gown, baring all beneath, cannot be thinking but one thing.”
The tips of Nadine’s breasts hardened with the chill of his words, making them more obvious beneath the white material. She grew cold inside from his insolent phrases, and small chill bumps began to appear all over her body. “You make it sound so vile,” she said, looking away.
“The act in and of itself is not, but the reasons behind it can be,” Ulysses retorted.
This was not what Nadine had expected at all. She had envisioned that upon seeing her, Ulysses would take her in his arms, and begin to whispe
r words of love and reassurance in her ears. She had not expected this callous stranger who was saying whatever he could to make her feel unwanted.
A gasp forced its way out of her and Nadine turned to make a hasty retreat, but Ulysses moved swiftly and stopped her from opening the door, trapping her body against it. He leaned his body against hers, then wedged her thighs apart with his knee, rubbing it against the most intimate part of her.
“Is this what you want, Nadine?” he asked, his voice husky, his breath warm against her hair.
“No, no . . . not like this,” she replied.
Ulysses turned her face toward him, and said, “How do you want it then?” His dark eyes looked piercingly into hers. “Like this?”
Sensuously, he lowered his lips, placing an intoxicating, languid kiss upon her quivering mouth. Never once invading the inside, but exquisitely punishing her lips with soft nibbles and bites until they were primed and ready for more. When he withdrew, Nadine knew Ulysses could feel her need, so she replied, “I came here wanting to give you my love. To give you all that I am, and you do this.”
A slow trail of tears began to make their way down her oval face as she squeezed her eyes together tightly, fighting against the desire Ulysses had aroused in her. Nadine would not allow herself to enjoy it. She felt cheap. Common. Ulysses was like a salesman laying out samples to a potential buyer, a prostitute enticing a John.
Watching her reaction, Ulysses’ heart constricted with a pang of tenderness. He hated himself for treating her the way he had. He had not given her a chance to explain why she had come, or what was in her heart. He did not know where she really stood. He had allowed his fear for Sovereign’s future and his mistrust of Basil to get in the way. Was it possible she had come to him for the reasons she had just given? Ulysses shook Nadine gently. “What do you want from me?” he implored, his eyes tormented. “Do you have some kind of secret alliance with Basil? Are you working with him to bring me down and steal Sovereign from me?”