Angel of Ash

by Law, Josephine

  Asher turned away from Glory’s door he’d stood and watched as Angel had breast fed Glory, before lulling her into a peaceful sleep, and then revealing her heart to their small daughter. Turning, he strode towards his bedroom, carefully shutting the door, stripping hurriedly, unsure of himself, and found his hands shaking, trembling in the air such as fine leaves in the fall wind. My God, my God, he thought to himself, shaken to his very core. The past still haunting him, quaking. “God,” he whispered. “What is this madness that grips me, to inflict such pain to bring fear to my own wife? What I’d wanted, to make her loathe me as I pretended to loather her? And still, she shows me love, still she wants me, still she is faithful and true and I’ve done all I can to destroy her love and she has not failed in it.”

  Getting under the covers, tired and exhausted from endlessly long, sleepless nights, he grew easily fatigued, wanting an end to this madness which gripped him.

  He heard her enter his bedroom moments later, “Asher,” she said quietly. “May I enter?” She asked softly.

  “Yes,” he said, biting his lower lip, when he about to add my lady. He knew she hated the phrase. “Angel, come,” he said sitting up in the bed, drawing towards her, his wife.

  She was taken aback, before a soft smile broke upon her beautiful face. This was the woman who loved him, he thought to himself. Who thought well of him. No other woman had revealed such barren honesty. No other woman had wanted his heart.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, butterflies in her stomach, remembering her revelation, her promise, as he walked towards her, her hands trembling. She was strong, she thought to herself, God, give me strength! She thought, thoughts failed her, she remembered the last time she’d tried to reveal herself to him, the night of the ball, and how he’d rejected her. Angels’ face flushed, as she tightened her hands in one clasped fist.

  He will reject you, her cowardly voice spoke loudly.

  And if he does, what then?

  And if he doesn’t what then?

  We shall never know, unless I say something.

  Say something, Angel.

  Tell him you love him.

  Tell him how much you love him.

  Tell your husband your heart.

  “I love you, husband, with all of my heart, with all my soul. No matter what your thoughts and concerns are towards me. If I could but change your heart, I would pray this of the Lord, I love you…Asher.”

  He did not seem to hear her, pulling her into his arms, butterflies still in her stomach. Kissing her gently he spoke quietly. “I need help, Angel. I need to erase these demons which haunt me to no end, for the sake of you…for the sake of Glory. So many times I have dreamed of peace and yet, when I awaken, I am once again in this hell of my choosing my making. I know no other way, I am strangling, I am dying. I would wish to speak the words that you have spoken to me. Yet, fear holds me captured. You should know, my wife…I have never wanted another more than you. I have never been consumed by another as I have you.”

  Shaking her head sadly, she penetrated his eyes with her soul. “No. No, that is not true. She…the one you loved…the one who died, she still consumes you, your heart, your soul. Until you lay her to rest you will never give me your heart. You can never.”

  Turning away, he stared outside the darkened window. “Who told you?”

  “Your family.” She said, brushing aside names so that he would not anger. “So it is true?”

  He did not answer, which gave her all the answer she needed. Sighing she stared at the fire, while he stared out the window, their backs towards each other. Neither one spoke and it was finally Angel who laid in bed after undressing, knowing her life would not be at peace until Deborah was fully gone for their lives. It seemed as if her very spirit haunted the couple, she shivered goose bumps upon her arms, a draft had flitted in, and Asher had opened the French balcony doors and stood outside, the chill fall air brushing inside. Yet, she knew it was something more. Deborah haunted her husband.

  Following him outside she watched as he stared into the fathomless black sky. “Tell me about your childhood, Asher…please, tell me about her.”

  “I cannot! To do so would bring it all back. I will not be weakened like that ever again.”

  “Then I shall tell you about my childhood. My earliest memories were also filled with pain…and bitterness. My mother and I were sold to one brutal ‘master’ to the other. I was poked, prodded like an animal. Touched in my private areas as a child by men elderly, rank with alcohol disgusting. I could do nothing, say nothing. I would watch as my mother cried…she hated this life, she hated being a slave, but she never cried in front of me. She never showed any weakness in front of me. She was so strong. When one man…he stuck his finger inside of me, my privates, she smacked him so hard…and was whipped twenty lashes. She never once cried out. She told him…if you touch my child again, I will kill you. He never touched me again. She would not back down, even if it meant her death, she would not allow us to be separated. If I could not do something instead of punishing me she would take the punishment to herself. We finally settled into a home, the woman who taught me how to play the piano, read and write. The day my mother died I felt as if my world ended. But I knew, I knew I had to be strong as she was strong. I would not allow the men to rape me as I was sold again. I fought them and was given a small semblance of respect. Even Lair, the one who held your sister captive and I…I refused to be brought into his madness. I suffered with your sister for those 7 years. I was whipped and beaten but I never once cried in front of him I never once showed him weakness. You…you have been the only man I’ve ever committed myself to. The only one that I have lost my soul to. That I have forgotten my strength with. Forgotten the promise to my mother.”

  She paused strangely absent of tears, staring outside the sky. “Like you I could be filled with bitterness, hate the life dealt me, remember the pain and the horrors of those many nights I was abused, sold, hit, hurt, tortured, starved, whipped, beaten. Or I can remember the joys of my mother’s hand upon my cheek, the woman who taught me piano, the joy I have brought to others by playing the piano, the friendship of your sister, the kindness of strangers, the reunion to my father, and the strength of my faith. The wedding of my husband, the love of my child. To awaken to the warmth of the sun, to smell the fresh air, to run across the meadow, to stare, even now, at the sky before me and wonder at the glory of it all. The life given to me. The hope for an unknown but exciting future.”

  She grew silent and neither spoke for long moments.

  “How do you not…how do you not hate those who hurt you?” He finally asked.

  “But for the grace of God. It could have been myself born as the abuser. The one without knowledge of peace, the one so deepened and deadened to sin. It is hard but I choose to forgive. I choose to release them. Because if I don’t they would hold me in bondage and I would fester with hate and pain. And instead of looking forward to my tomorrows, I would reminisce about my yesterdays. A past that cannot be changed no matter how much I wish to change it. The past cannot ever be changed, no matter how much we wish it, my lord. And the one that holds you in pain…they are long gone. Sometimes we fight at the wind, at the rain that is still to come no matter how much we wish it otherwise. If I had given in to the bitterness, I would have died with my mother that night. I had a knife next to me…I wanted to die so badly. But I remembered the good days, the faith of my God, the healing of wounds both those seen and unseen, and I stilled my hand from bringing myself harm. If I had died that night as I had wanted to so that I could escape the pain that I was currently feeling I would not be standing before you now, I would not have met your sister…I would not be a mother right now. There would be no Glory. There would be no two of us standing before the midnight sky.”

  “Does that not count for something my lord?” She asked.

  It took him a long time to answer but finally he did. “I am glad..that you stilled your hand over that knife. No matte
r what pain I have put you through my lady. I would not be as one of your slavers. No matter the evil of my soul and spirit.”

  “I do not regret these days. The pain and the joy, Asher. I have grown.”

  It had been a long time since she’d spoken his first names. Often they acted like polite strangers.

  “I have sought help…my lady. Dr. Jenkins referred me to a…man of the mind. There is an unsoundness of my mind. He calls the condition, manic depressive bipolar disorder.”

  “What is that my lord?”

  “It is stages of depression followed at times with stages of mania. But mostly it is an imbalance of the mind.”

  “Is there a cure for such?” She asked quietly.

  “Never a cure…but a way for it to be controlled. Without heavy drugs.”

  “Can…can Glory suffer from it?” She asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  She fisted her hand against her mouth, withholding the tears.

  “I am sorry wife.”

  “Hunter…she has the same condition, as you. Who else in your family?”

  “My grandfather, he suffered from such, he was committed, a great family scandal. Other cousins, an uncle, Hunters’…molester. That is why my mother, she took to the healing arts. Much of what the doctor has stated, my mother has also known. Yet, she has come up against a brick wall as to how to treat such. There was herbal medicine she would give me as a child and young man that would ease…the depression for periods. But after…after Hunter’s abduction, Deborah, I no longer, I could not bring myself to take more. I never knew what I had…I never knew its name. I remembered as a child. I would not want to go outside, I would not want to be touched, I would not want to speak or eat, I would stay awake for days on end, finish projects that would usually take months, in hours. That invaded into my adult hood. There were days I would find peace, Deborah; she kept the demons at bay at times. But those days were few and far in between. I have suffered with the horror of killing myself so often. When I fell down the chasm of my parents’ estate…I was six. I tried to take my life. I was in pain. I hated living, everything brought sadness. I saw the hole. And I just wanted to be a part of the darkness, to end the pain of living. I fell into the hole on purpose I didn’t want to be found, I was so close, so near death when my father found me. I hated him for a long time after that.”

  “When you awaken what is it that you see?”

  “Darkness,” he said, never revealing this before. “As if a great veil is upon my eyes that cannot be shaken off. A heaviness upon my shoulders that weighs me down.”

  “Every moment?” She asked.

  He nodded. “Yes, my lady. Even now. Even at Glory’s birth, at our wedding, at the birth of my nephew, the reunion of the families. When I know there should be some type of happiness within me, I feel nothing, except…pain. I lash out…to escape the pain, because I am in misery, I wish others around me to also suffer. As I have done you. I recognize my weakness and to wish it away would be the greatest joy.” He breathed in a ragged breath, turning away from his wife and for the first time in many years he bowed his head before someone else, defeated.

  “Dear God,” she breathed in pain over her husband’s suffering. “Dear God.”

  “I am sorry wife.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Forgive me.” He said.

  “It is done; it was done a long time ago. There is hope for you, I know it Asher, and I cannot believe anything else. There is hope.”

  “And…if there is none…the doctor doesn’t know if the medicine will work…he also states there…the medicine might make it worse. I ask…I ask if you take Glory…and yourself to my parents to reside.”

  “I will not leave your side, Asher.”

  “Please, Angel,” he said, for the first time saying her name. He never spoke her name, she paused. “The darkness grows, the days, are shorter, racing towards something that frightens me, I feel it, it is here. I have never known myself. I envision my death so often. I envision it so much. I do not want you to find me…if, if I lost the last hold. If I kill myself as I have wanted all the days of my life, I would not want you to find me but I fear that I am so far gone that I will do it and not care. This pain I have lived with for 30 years, there has been no release, never one day of release. Every day I suffer and I wish the pain to stop, so much. I wish to be free but I know the only way to be truly free is to end the suffering of it all.”

  “I will not allow you to do this!” Angel cried out. “I will not allow this, God! I need you! Glory needs you! I need you husband! I need you Asher, you are my love, you are my love. I need you; do not suffer this madness any more. Do not allow these demons to take you away from your family. Do not allow me to live alone, please Asher. Do not allow this great evil to occur. You are needed…you are loved.”

  He could not speak. “Angel…just promise me this.” He would not relent. “I start…the treatment the medicine next week, if the medicine doesn’t work.. There…they have to give me shocks.”

  “What kind of shocks?” She asked.

  “I will tell you no more.”

  “Answer me, Asher. I deserve to know.”

  “Electricity, they will give me electrical shocks.”

  She stifled her scream. “No, Asher. No!”

  “I must. If this does not work, I cannot live this way. I want a future with you. I want peace. I want to see Glory grow. But I have nothing now, if I do not do this there is nothing for me I cannot live in this darkness anymore.”

  “I will not allow you to go through this alone. I will be with you.”

  “Never!”

  “I am your wife! I will not allow you to suffer this pain alone! You will not suffer it alone. I swear to you Asher, I will not leave your side.”

  “Please…please…don’t.” He bit out in torture.

  “I will not leave your side.”

  They medicine did not work even after three months of him diligently taking it. As he feared, his moods and depression quickly spiraled to near madness. And so they began electric shock treatment. The first time they bound him, placing a stick in his mouth to keep him from biting his tongue she nearly came undone. He would not look at her and stared steely eyed at the ceiling. She was allowed to watch from outside the room. Upon their third visit for his shock treatments, Angel could take no more.

  They started the shock and he tried to scream, his body wrenching up against its bounds, tears and sweat breaking across him as he screamed wordlessly, torturously against the immense pain coursing throughout his body. Angel would not allow them to do more than two before she wrenched through the door, shutting off the machinery, screaming.

  “Leave him alone! Leave him alone!” She yelled. “I will take care of him, I will take care of my husband, I will find a cure for him but I’ll see you in hell before I allow you to do this to him again.”

  When he was brought home he suffered no one, often lashing out in anger at Angel, emotionally abusive, when he realized his abuse, he would lock himself away from days at a time, with no food and on drink, no matter how much Angel coaxed, pleaded and demanded he eat. She kept Glory far away from him, fear of what Asher might do in one of his rages, as she termed it, forcing Glory’s safety. Two weeks after his electrical shock therapy she found his moods decreasingly worse until he could no longer take care of any of his needs and she tended him as she did Glory and only then in this passive state did she allow the baby around her father. She’d sent a courier to his parents, asking Maria to send the herbal medicines she’d given Asher as a child with instructions on its use, she also began studying on her own and with Dr. Jenkins help, she found more reputable doctors, men of the mind and body who consulted with Asher, some promising, some not.

  “Husband,” Angel said, she’d led Asher out onto their French balcony in the high of the fall afternoon, the air crisp and refreshing as a bundled up Glory upon a blanket at their feet crawled around, and playing with the wooden to
ys Anthony had created for her. “It is a beautiful day, is it not?” She said, knowing she’d get no response. Asher hadn’t spoken a full sentence in four weeks, he instead stared at the trees lining their balcony, his eyes blank, emotionless, taking no knowledge of his wife or daughter. It did not matter that he did not speak. She kept up a running chatter, speaking to both Glory and Asher, Glory who would coo and smile as she crawled around their feet, more interested in gumming on the toys and the thickness of the blanket than her parents before her. “Your mothers’ package has finally arrived, she states in her letter her and your father shall arrive in tow within the week but she wanted to send the package post haste. I have read about many of these medicines. Some from the Hebrew doctor who pointed me towards the healing herbs of the Bible. It is quite informative. I shall start you on the St. John’s wart this evening and I believe she said the milk thistle and dandelion. Anthony came over yesterday. Do you remember? He says the business is fine, I am glad you made him the manager before your treatment, he seems quite capable, no more the rake and playboy of last year. He left some business journals, I have already gone over some, the transactions from the cotton from Egypt and the silk works from China seems in order. I never thought I would have such a head for business. There is one merchant, however, who worries me, but I am sure you will figure that out on your own.”

  She was met with silence and Glory babbling excitedly towards the red as a red robin perched on the balcony watching the family oddly.

  “Glory will be six months old. Oh, I cannot believe it; she crawls so fast, upon such fat legs. She is so humorous to watch, she’s so happy except during bath time, she hates baths, and I fear she would live in her own mess if she could. Never mind,” Angel said, smiling at Glory who crawled towards the end of the blanket after her toy ship which she had thrown. “Mrs. Bates has prepared a chicken pot pie for dinner, I smell it all the way up here, and doesn’t it smell delicious?” She asked. “Are you hungry, Asher?”