Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  “Of course we do!” She chuckled in disbelief. “And a Town Hall, a school, hospital, university, shops...why do you think we don’t have one?”

  “I haven’t seen any police car...not even a traffic policeman,” I replied, giving her a wry smile. I didn’t want her to think I was belittling her town.

  She started pointing out many different landmarks, too fast for me to follow her gestures.

  “Over there is the Police Department. Beside it is the Forest Police. There’s the Town Hall. Down there, on the right, is the school.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her. As I struggled to keep pace, I felt a stinging on the bottom of my left foot. The piece of paper that I’d inserted to cover the hole in the sole of my shoe was gone.

  The security guard acknowledged us with a nod of his head when we entered the huge wrought iron gates. Wow! Those gates were something...intimidating. I felt like I was going into the Arkham Asylum without buying a ticket, but it was only my first impression, like when you open a “surprise package” and find something different than what you were expecting.

  There was nothing even remotely scary beyond those gates. Inside was a small, picturesque tram terminal where people were awaiting their turn to ride. On one side I saw a ticket office, turnstiles, and a cafe, and on the other side, the platform with the cables passing inside the cable house from this base to the top of the hill. I assumed that one of the trams was for going up and the other for coming down as they were on opposite sides of the same platform.

  The cable car stopped in front of a huge red arrow painted on the floor. Charity subtly pushed me so that we joined the queue forming outside the vehicle’s door. Everyone boarded quickly and soon we were seated near one of the windows. A few minutes later, the red cable car began to rise slow and smoothly.

  During the ascent, the view was amazing! We crossed above the two big columns supporting the cables. For those inside the cable car, it created a visual photo frame for the compact background of pines, all the way down to the buildings around Bluewater Lake. Charity pointed to some of the houses, explaining about their origin and who owned them. Apparently she knew everyone in town.

  Less than five minutes later, the cable car docked on the upper platform and we followed the other passengers as they disembarked. Once outside, I noticed that the cable car was not the only means of access to that upper area. Many pedestrians were walking along the aqueduct that I’d seen earlier, which spanned until the gateway of the walls next to the cable car platform where we were.

  Interesting...now I understand perfectly why this town was named “Hadrian’s Wall.” It wasn’t just because of Adrian Cahill, the founder. The urban lower and upper zones were located on separate plateaus. The upper side was divided into smaller adjoined terraces surrounded by the wall which protected the residents from encroachment by the pine forest outside the walls, just as Hadrian’s Wall had segregated the territories conquered by the Romans from the untamed territory of the Caledonians.

  Soon we reached the entrance gates, identical to those at the lower platform. There was also a guardhouse with two security guards. One of them spoke into a handheld radio and when he saw us and waved us through while other passengers lined up to present their identification tags—another surprise package. There was a cozy little park behind the iron gates. Similar to a village square, it had an exuberant fountain in the middle. The place was what older people once called a promenade.

  The upper town gradually came into view as we walked along the promenade, enjoying the sounds of birds and snippets of conversations of passersby. Soon we could hear the unmistakable sounds of humans—people talking, sounds escaping through the doors of business establishments, footsteps, bicycles... as we approached the heart of the uptown area—the shopping district—stores, restaurants, salons that occupying small, brown brick buildings which it seemed to be the town’s trademark, all glued together, occasionally separated by very narrow streets, too small to accommodate cars.

  Charity was pointing up and when I turned to look, I almost had a heart attack. The last turn of the wall was above us in all its grandeur and perched atop were three giant statues of panthers carved from black granite. They were seated, but inclined ahead in a position of attack, as if ready to pounce on unsuspecting prey. Unlike the image on the coat-of-arms, the eyes were made of yellow quartz and the reflection of the sun made them glow eerily.

  The Panthers appeared to be looking straight down at the “tiny human ants” that were circulating through the streets and alleyways. This feature seemed ambiguous to me. What did their looks mean? Were they safeguarding the people or watching them? They seemed attentive and dangerous at same time...and so perfect, so real that I wondered if they might jump from their stone pedestal any time.

  So that’s the Panthers’ Cliff...

  “Awesome, don’t you think?” Charity knew it and I believe she really didn’t expect a reply. “Behind the Panthers statuary is the family mansion. The front of the property is close to the cliff. All you can see on the other side is the entrance gates. We have a road that is somewhat...private.”

  “What do you mean ‘somewhat private’?”

  She sighed. “It means that only family members have access.”

  I looked back at the stone wall, where the Panthers were sitting. In fact, there would be no way to get through in that direction. To invade the Cahill domain, it would be necessary to climb the full height of the wall and to do that would require special equipment.

  “Now, let’s go shopping,” said Charity.

  Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the street. “I already I told your cousin that I feel bad about this kind of situation.”

  She gave me a look of disdain and boredom. “Honey, don’t start your litany! I need to spend this quota given to me by Adrian...Senior...on this card.” She hesitated for a couple of seconds before drawing the gold credit card from her handbag, like someone drawing a gun from a holster. “Otherwise, he’ll think I failed and he’ll flay me alive.”

  “But...”

  “As his assistant, you’ll need more appropriate clothing. I’m not saying you have to dress like a supermodel. Don’t take this wrong, darling, but you’re not a supermodel.” She gestured impatiently. “Good news is you won’t have to go around wearing fancy clothes.”

  “Like you, for example?” I needled her. I couldn’t resist.

  “I don’t...” Indignant, she stopped walking and glanced at her own outfit and then at me. The impression I got is that nobody ever dared criticize her wardrobe. “I’m very simple in this prêt-à-porter fashion.”

  “Prêt what?”

  “Don’t change the subject. You’ll need a more varied wardrobe. Consider this an advance payment.”

  “I have not accepted the job” I delicately reminded her.

  She whirled around, seeming rather nervous now. The more nervous she seemed, the more she let her quiet façade of perfection slip, the calmer I was. Had she not noticed that I’m the kind of person who goes against the grain...the kind that the more you push them, the more they resist? That’s me. Certainly, her illustrious cousin has noticed.

  “Think about it,” she was saying. “When will you get another chance like that? Senior is considering granting you the unique opportunity to study art in one of the best universities in the world. The UWall is highly selective...but a few words from him and voila!

  “Don’t tell me...” My voice was full of irony, but I couldn’t help it. “Adrian Senior also founded the university?”

  “No,” she laughed, “but he allowed it to be built here. And, yes, he is the major contributor.”

  Of course!

  “Let the old man feel better playing “Daddy Long Legs.” He needs to believe that his life is still worthwhile. Moreover, he’s always wanted a daughter to pamper.”

  I noticed bitterness in her voice. Charity seemed resentful of something. I decided it was time to make a strategic concession just to ca
lm things down.

  “One,” I said.

  “One what?”

  “One pair of shoes. It’s all I’ll allow you to buy for me...and I will repay you later.

  I only gave in to her because I couldn’t stand walking in my worn out flat shoes. Walking along the streets of Hadrian’s Wall, precariously balancing myself in a pair of shoes like Charity’s wasn’t an option. It would be a Chinese torture.

  Charity rolled her eyes.

  “Ten.”

  Unbelievable! She’s trying to negotiate with me.

  “One.” I held my ground.

  “Five.”

  “One.”

  Silence.

  “Two,” she said.

  I hesitated. Charity smiled, anticipating her apparent victory.

  “If we reach an agreement, I promise you, I won’t insist anymore. Now look, I think you need a jacket for the cold, a good haircut and ...” When she saw that I was about to protest, she quickly added, “...and you can pay me back with your first paycheck. How about that?”

  Cornered. That’s how I felt. If I accepted the job, I’d be giving up my search for truth, at least for now. What I meant is that I’d have to postpone my return to South Portland. If I didn’t, well... After all, what could I expect to discover on the coast? What would I do without money and without a place to stay? If everything really was in my head, I knew what would happen—I’d end up on the street...homeless.

  “I didn’t do well in school assessment tests.” I was whining, half-serious, half-joking. I don’t know why I said that.

  Her smile widened. She probably took my comment to mean that I was consenting to everything—shopping, employment, college, and everything else that she and both of the Adrians were planning.

  “No problem. You can re-do it. We’ll help you.”

  The Cahills were trying to help me too much. I had to acknowledge it. They didn’t treat me like...like a crazy girl...incompetent, unreliable. I wanted so much to believe all this caring was genuine, but I still couldn’t, especially because of the reluctance that I felt coming from Charity. It was obvious she was determined to do something she had no wish to do, so why she was so determined? Was it because Adrian Cahill Senior proclaimed himself my protector? Was she jealous? I believe there’s always a price to pay for benevolence. However, what really distressed me was not getting plausible answers to my questions.

  10

  BANSHEE APPEARANCE

  Charity practically dragged me to the beauty salon, a very elegant, fashionable place where I was treated like a princess. The woman who cut my hair introduced herself as a hair stylist. She made me feel very comfortable. I could see she was a seasoned pro as she talked to me about my personal tastes. She made it clear what she planned to do with my hair, but also gave me the opportunity to state my preferences so that we could arrive at a consensus. The result was a modern cut, not audacious, but valuing my curls. My new hairstyle framed my face nicely.

  I decided not to color it or add highlights, as Charity suggested, not because I didn’t want to try a different look. My concern was the cost of maintaining an expensive hairstyle. I decided it was best to adopt a safe plan and have the stylist do something simple, long lasting, and economical. Who knew when I’d have the opportunity to return to a beauty salon so my motto was Take it easy!

  I tried to enjoy life, but in moderation, you know. Charity grumbled that she didn’t understand why I wanted to preserve the “virginity” of my hair. I looked at her and responded that I planned to remain a virgin in all respects. She stared me, very surprised, while the salon’s employees smiled. I laughed because the expression on Charity’s was very funny. I could no longer contain myself and I laughed louder.

  “You’re unbelievable!” Charity laughed too.

  “More incredible than finding a virgin girl, is finding virgin hair...that’s it!” said the manicurist as she worked on Charity’s nails.

  “Now, you said a great truth,” the hair stylist agreed, pointing at the manicurist with the hairbrush.

  But I didn’t care for their jokes until I was having fun. The girls were very nice and seemed to enjoy their work.

  The hair stylist pampered my hair with expensive, fragrant shampoo and conditioner and then she taught me how to comb my new cut. When she turned me around to face the mirror, I was surprised. I saw the face of a strange girl...a cute strange girl. I couldn’t believe it was me. I guess I was so accustomed to what I’d looked like for so long that I couldn’t imagine myself any other way. But “the penny has dropped” and I became aware that this haircut was kind of a milestone: I was saying goodbye to the “frightened orphan” and saying hello to the adult woman, but will Adrian see me as a woman?

  * * *

  After leaving the salon we went to the alley where some very chic boutiques were located. Charity stopped briefly to look at all of the attractive displayed in the shop windows. No matter how much she tried pressure me to allow her to purchase the beautiful clothes she saw, I resisted bravely. I finally entered one of the stores when I saw that it was a shoe store. Finally...the shoes that I wanted and needed.

  Again I told myself, Take it easy!

  I started by choosing a color, something that would go with most of my clothes. However, the main criterion was comfort. I was tired of wearing uncomfortable shoes. My feet were small and would adapt well to any footwear; however, I have sensitive skin and everything hurts me.

  “You have very beautiful feet.” The saleswoman gave me a nice compliment.

  Yes, I was lucky, but I was ashamed that they were stains from blisters that had burst because I’d decided to wear my killer ballet flats today. I decided to wear my new Converse All Stars sneakers out of the store.

  “Two pairs,” Charity reminded me.

  I gave her an annoyed look.

  “Just in case you step on dog poop or bear poop or if you need to wash them. You’ve got to have at least one spare pair to wear while the other pair is drying,” she argued.

  Even though I did not want to accept it, her argument was pretty convincing. Nothing in this world could make me go back to using those damn ballet flats—not even a bear poop.

  After finishing that task, we entered at another store. Why? Oh, she wanted me to choose a jacket to replace the one that I’d lost...or rather to replace the one I’d left in South Portland.

  I must confess that even though it was against my will, it felt really good just putting it on. If it were up to Charity, I would not have wasted time trying on each of the coats. I should just take all of them—without guilt or stress, but my conscience would allow me to accept only one. I used the same criteria that I’d used to choose my new sneakers.

  “You need something for the other season as well,” said Charity, interrupting my thoughts.

  This time, I glared at her.

  “What?” She blinked. There was a look of astonishment on her face. “You cannot use this parka on less cold days, can you? You’ll sweat like a pig!”

  “With my first paycheck, I’ll buy my own clothes.”

  She gave me a big smile. “Right.”

  “Wrong...I still haven’t accepted the job,” I replied, confused at her response.

  Adrian was right. That girl was a force of nature. A tsunami! I had to grab onto a tree or I’d be dragged through her turbulent waters.

  After choosing the coat, I tried to rush her to leave before she bought the whole store. We were working up to that...Geez! She hadn’t come out of the dressing room for quite a while and the bags were piling up on the counter!

  Charity grumbled after we left the store. She thought we should have bought more stuff, but she soon dropped the subject, or so it seemed to me. Suddenly, she insisted on taking my shopping bags, although she was loaded with her own. I refused, but she yanked them out of my hands.

  “You’ve got to be careful of your ribs,” was her justification. “Let’s stop and grab a quick snack. I’m starving.”


  We sat on the patio outside of a snack bar, which faced a bandstand. I tried to limit my choice to the cheapest meal on the menu, so I ordered fries and a Coke. I was embarrassed about not being able to pay my share, but hungry enough not to refuse her offer.

  The fact that I was completely broke made me feel vulnerable. Not having money sucks!

  Although she said she was hungry, Charity barely touched on her burger. When I asked her about, she claimed that she’d lost her appetite because we hadn’t done more shopping...that I wasn’t enjoying the “girls day out” that she had planned for us. What bothered me more was that I would eat, but she didn’t. She would pay for, but I didn’t. I took a quick look at the various shopping bags, wondering what else she could have found to buy.

  We chatted as we finished our meal. Charity laconically answered my questions about the town, her work in the laboratory, and her biochemistry course at UWall until I finally decided it was time to shut up. I was relieved when half an hour later we returned to the cable car platform and in a matter of minutes we were back in the lower city.

  Back in the car, I heaved a sigh, staring at the landscape while Charity backed the Porsche out of the parking space. We skirted around the downtown area so she could show me the famous “private” entry of Panthers’ Cliff or “Cliff House”—the name which she obviously preferred people use when referring to her home. However, one must agree that it isn’t difficult to understand why the unwanted nickname became a favorite amongst the locals rather than the “official” name because of those huge statues. With all the mystery surrounding the pets of Adrian Cahill, the founder, it would be impossible not to associate the place with the big cats.

  Along the way, I noticed the same F150 pickup I’d seen at the hospital was now following the Porsche at a discreet distance. But before I could think much about it, I was thunderstruck at seeing the view that made me forget everything—even how to think. Nothing could have prepared me for the four huge stone panthers flanking the entrance gates of the Cahill property. Behind the walls, the road that wound along the cliff disappeared into trees, so dense that it was impossible to get even a glimpse of the mansion located at the top.