Spring 1880

A Young Felix and Marian take a walk through town past the carts and shops of Brord. The lovebirds make their way into a bookstore. Marian looks around.

“So where’ve you hid my present?”

“Uh, have you never been on a scavenger hunt? I’m not telling.” Felix says with a mischievous grin.

“Well at least give me a hint,” smacks Marian.

“Alright… It’s near one of your most favorite books.”

Marian gasps and quickly scampers to the literary fiction section. She traces a finger down each row until she comes across her most favorite book ever; A Hole So Deep by Steward Mateus. Resting beside it, a beautiful diamond ring. She slowly picks it up and holds it above her to see it shine.

“What is this, Felix?”

“It’s your engagement ring. That is— if you’ll have me.”

Marian drops her hand to her side, “Felix… I wanna say yes. But we are not of the same status, you know.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really? Well, how come I still haven’t met your family, then, huh?”

Felix sighs holding her pale face between his hands, “They would not understand, Marian. They'd say you were a bad influence. Around you, I don’t have to talk proper or act stilted. Around you,… I… I can use contractions whenever I want.”

Marian giggles a little.

“And I am content with this— this secret love,” he says.

“Oh, Felix. I just don’t wanna be hurt. I want this to last. I do.” She presses her forehead against his.

He shushes her, “It will last. It will. Just say you’ll do it. Say you’ll marry me?”

Lilian woke to the sound of a warbler. Light from outside glowed through the curtains, fighting to seep through and brighten her room. It may be Sunday but it didn’t feel so nice. She quickly jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to see if what she felt was true. She was soon greeted by the sound of a wheezy cry.

“Aunt Krishta?” Lilian called. She came around the left corner, and through the kitchen to her relatives’ door. Gracie was nowhere to be found; probably hanging the laundry. The crying stopped as her footsteps were detected. Lilian knocked on the door.

“Aunt Krish—” her aunt cracked open the door, and by the expression on her face accompanied with a few tear streaks, Lilian had an idea of what happened. She was ready to almost immediately burst into tears without any proof she was correct. Her body shivered, her chest pounded. Aunt Krishta opened the door wider revealing the Master bed. And in it a lifeless Fredrick Truit.

Lilian’s aunt tried to bring her further into the room, but Lilian shook away.

“Mm, mm. Mno.” She shook her head. Then broke down by the doorway.

Krishta crouched beside her, “Lilian. It’s alright. He’s in a better place now—”

“Just give me a minute.” Her heart was not ready to cope in a matter of seconds.

Krishta leaned in, and Lilian met her with a hug. Sobs of agony were all that filled the room. Lilian couldn’t accept it. How could she possibly believe that her uncle wasn’t there in the room, hearing their every noise? How could she let go of the one most dear to her? She could hardly breathe.

Lilian thought about what her uncle told her last night. About the test. She stood up and, like a big girl, wiped her cheeks. She walked over to the bed. A bucket of acid vomit fumed by the bedside, testifying to how he had wretched all night. The sight of a pale-faced Uncle before her. His eyes were closed. But his mouth rested open. Lilian tried to envision a colorful him. The one that smiled every morning and kissed her forehead every night.

There was no sound from her now. No emotion. For it was all depleted at the doorway. Lilian raised a hand to his face but retracted. Would she dare to feel his cold, pale skin? No. No more proof was needed. He was gone.

Tessaline sat on the floor next to the fireplace. Her eyes, focused on the flames, allowing her face to be kissed by the heat. She was blessed to be in a house with a fireplace, two bedrooms, and a kitchen. Things she once missed from her childhood. Tonight, her childhood was all she could think about. And her parents' faces. Her mother's the day she died. Her father's the day they left... That wretched day. Two days ago, November 2, was understood by all the townsfolk as a day not to bother Tess. She was a tough girl, and when she wished to be left alone, her wish was granted.

The sound of the front door swinging open in the kitchen snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Tess, are you there!"

"In the sitting room."

The room became partially illuminated by the light from the kitchen once her friend opened the door. She heard the sound of his boots as he entered. He came up behind her and drowned her in a hug. A hug she didn’t return.

“I tell you not to sit so close to that fire.”

Tessaline still sat quietly, watching the fire.

“What’s up with you?” asked Jase.

“You’re home late,” Tessaline said flatly.

Jase turned his face away and released her. “Ah, there was an… issue… at the factory.”

“What issue?”

“Uh, um—”

“Never mind. I don’t really care.” She turned around, “Jase, I don’t know why but I’ve been thinking about Papa a lot, even after his birthday. I feel like something is gonna happen, and I don’t know what.”

“Something’s gonna happen? Like what?” Jase said while oddly scooting himself away from Tess.

“That’s just it. I don’t know.”

“Tessaline, look. You’re just feelin’ the same old depression you feel every year ‘round this time.”

“I don’t think so, Jase. It feels different.”

“Well, you can’t expect me to take you seriously over a feeling,” He scoffed.

“I’m not askin’ you to take me seriously. I’m askin’ you to hear me.”

Jase pursed his lips together and extended a freckled arm out, touching her cheek, “I do hear you, Tess. You sound tired.”

“Ugh.” She stomped out of the room.

The funeral was slow. It was on a rather bright day, which irked Lilian. But when she gave it a thought, Uncle Fred would have wanted it to be on a lovely day.

It was on this day, she realized who those “other relations” were. In all truth, Lilian had never built a real rapport with her extended family. Whatever faces she might have seen in her early childhood, were all forgotten. It was a lot of “well-wishes from Cousin Who and Aunt What’s-Her-Name”. There were also reporters who came. Lilian wondered just how important her uncle was. Would he make headlines or just a short appearance in the obituaries?

During the reception, It felt strange having all of those unfamiliar faces in her home (scrutinizing her home).

“Hmm, It’s not the biggest of manors, but it’s charming,” said one individual Lilian watched from above the banister.

“They definitely went the Spartan route, didn’t they?” joked his friend.

Lilian came plopping down the stairs. The two boys looked at her.

“Oh. Lilian, is it? We were just admiring your quarters.”

“Oh, yes. That did look like admiring, didn’t it?” she said sarcastically.

They gave each other a look. One cleared his throat, “So how are you coping?”

“Slowly. I’ve managed. How about you?”

They were not sure what to say.

“Don’t either of you know him?” asked Lilian.

“We know of him. Do you know us?” Bang! Got her.

“Lilian, dear,” called Aunt Krishta, “We're about to start reading the will.”

Lilian wasn’t sure why her aunt decided to do the reading on the day of the funeral, but alas into the sitting room she went.

Everyone gathered around while the attorney pulled a sheet of paper out of his case. He began to read:

To my dear wife, Krishta, of course, I give the estate…

The list went on, and Lilian got anxious for when her name would be mentioned.

Lastly, the factory will go to my sister, Barbra.

“Oh! Yes!” cried a woman in a slim, black, puffed-sleeved dress and a black-veiled hat. Behind the veil, one could make out her features: Droopy eyelids, high cheekbones, and pouty lips. She had an hourglass figure that was most certainly naturally hers (not the result of a corset, despite she was wearing one) and her voice was low and melodious. She was the epitome of a femme fatale.

“Sorry, could you read that last part a second time?” insisted Lilian. Surely her Uncle did not give up her inheritance.

“Uh,” said the attorney, “It says, ‘Lastly, the factory will go to my sister, Barbra.’ Signed— Fredrick Truit. Barbra Truit— is that you?”

The miss said she was. Lilian looked down at her Aunt Krishta who she stood beside, and who sat quietly in her comfy armchair. Lilian rested a hand on her shoulder.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered, “I am the heiress.” But Krishta didn’t say a word to her. Could it be that she knew about the sudden change?

Krishta then said, “So Miss Barbra, what exactly do you intend to do with the lathe factory?”

“Well, I have been meaning to further the cosmetic industry.” The woman said placing a hand on her chest with fingers flared out.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I had my sights on a lovely area up in Cremsworth, though I’ve always admired Fredrick’s place. Ugh, finally he’s come to his senses it seems.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” chirped Lilian.

“What don’t you understand?” twitched her aunt Barbra.

Lilian paused. It was happening again. Everyone's eyes were on her. Looking the way they did at the ball.

“What is it, Lilian?” asked Aunt Krishta obliviously, which made Lilian’s blood boil. Amongst the crowd was Paul. He wore a somber expression that was unlike him. He was clearly hurt by Fred’s death, too. He gave Lilian a permissive nod, and she mustered up all the courage within her.

“Where were you?” She directed the question at Aunt Barbra.

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” her voice slightly raised, “where were you? On any holiday, or any day at all?”

“Lilian!” Aunt Krista scolded.

“Where were you when business was terrible and we nearly lost everything?”

“Lilian, hold your tongue—”

“And where were you when Uncle Fred got sick? Where were any of you?!”

“That’s enough!”

“No! No, Aunt Krishta. Any other day, please.”

That was the last straw for Aunt Krishta. Up, she jumped from her seat. Her eyes, glossy with tears.

“Get out.” She said in a flat voice.

Lilian realized she went too far. She walked off with her head hung low. Out to the orchard, she ran. Surrounding herself with apple trees, orange trees, and brown leaf piles. The sun waned away and a cold breeze hit her. Why was this happening to her? None of it was fair. She burst into a bellow. The wind blew so strong it wiped her tears away.

Out of the house, came Aunt Krishta calling her name. Lilian turned her head, and the wind slowed.

“Why? Why do you want to ruin things today?”

Lilian just stood there, looking into her aunt’s eyes, hoping she’d see her sorrow. “Everything is already ruined, Aunt Krishta. Do you not care? Why wouldn’t he just leave me with one thing- one piece of him.”

“Because you have something they don’t. His favor.”

“You knew he changed his mind. Why didn’t you tell me? All my life I felt safe knowing that everything was planned out for me. And that I never had to figure anything out myself.”

“And that’s precisely why we decided to break our promise, Lilian. Running the factory— that’s not your path.”

“You should’ve let me decide that.”

“But by then you would have caught yourself in a mess, and you know it.”

Her aunt might have been right. “So what am I going to do now?”

“You have to find that out. But it starts with leaving Corlu. It’s not your place anymore.”

“But—”

“I’m aware that Hiplum is not your place either. Your Uncle and I— we had our mission. And that was to raise you. Now it’s time you complete yours and be the Lilian I know you can be. Remember those days Shersul would give you lessons out in the woods? What did he teach you? Tell me.”

“He- he taught me to fish.”

“Eeexactly. Now fish.”

Lilian hadn’t the slightest idea what her aunt was talking about but she didn’t dwell on it. “You want me to just leave? Uncovered?”

“Something tells me you won’t be.” Krishta turned her head, pointing at Paul who was now outside, involved in a conversation with some men. And by “involved”, he was simply watching the others talk.

“Paul?” said Lilian. “No, no, no. He has his studies. I could never ask him to go with me… wherever I’m going.”

“Lilian, I believe that boy would go with you to the ends of the earth.”

“You think?”

Her Aunt nodded.

“Wait, what about you?”

“Oh, I’ll be alright. I have Gracie. And besides, I’ve been taking care of myself for years. It’ll just be easier when you're gone.”

“Nice to know I’m appreciated,” Lilian scoffed.

“Oh, you are.” Aunt Krishta held Lilian’s face in her dainty hands, “You truly are.” She gave Lilian a kiss on her forehead and a hug.

Lilian stood at the abandoned train tracks (apparently not abandoned anymore). She had to get away from the other Truits. Peace and quiet.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Tell me where to go. I know you can.”

A strong gust suddenly blew through her; one only she could feel. It carried on toward the south; same direction as the train a few days ago.

“What city is south?”

“Brord, why?” Lilian was startled by none other than Paul Partridge holding one of their apples in his palm.

“You really must stop appearing behind me like that.”

“My apologies.”

Lilian stared at the white rose placed in his vest pocket.

“How are you, Paul? I saw you break down at the open casket.”

“I didn’t break down.”

“Yes, you did. I know you, Paul. You did on the inside.”

Paul wouldn’t look her in the eyes. He stared at nothing. “I can’t believe it, Lil. I just can’t.”

“I know.”

“It’s the twentieth century. There have been so many breakthroughs. If only he held on just a little longer, I could’ve found a cure.”

Lilian clasped his arm, “No, Paul. It couldn’t be helped.” Paul looked down at her. His “stormy blues”, piercing her soul. She realized she forgot herself. She made up for it by drawing him into a hug. Lilian could hear his heartbeat. It was slow. Then it started to quicken. She released him.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Thinking about leaving?”

“How did you know?”

“I know you.”

“It wasn’t exactly my idea.”

Paul shrugged, “Well, I know your Aunt, too. So, where to? I hear Cremsworth is beautiful this time of year.”

“Oh… I was actually planning on going alone.”

“Alone?” Paul gave her a look of utter disappointment.

“Well, don’t you have your studies to attend to?”

“Oh, please,” He waves a dismissive hand, “I can be self-taught. I’m the type to only need school for the paper I receive at the end.”

“What would your parents say?”

“They won’t say a word if I can help it,” he asserted. “Now I take pride in being your only chauffeur for several years, and I intend to continue doing so.”

Lilian decided to toy with him, looking upward pensively, then saying, “Mno, Paul. I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

Paul's jaw dropped as he slapped his chest. “Alright, Miss Lilian Truit. But just as the maxim goes, there’s only one thing that’ll work to keep me away.”

“And what’s that?”

He puts his apple in her palm. “Eating one of these every day.” Then he stomps off.

Lilian laughed, “Oh, Paul. You goop. Come back!”

Paul lifted his chin and shook his head like a stubborn toddler.

“Don’t make me snatch you!” She threatened, running up behind him and grabbing his shoulders. “Ha, Ha!”

He turned and took her wrist, staring into her eyes again, then rubbed a thumb against the back of her hand and said, “If you go, I go. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Knock, knock, knock went Tessaline on the red door of Mister Scott Thomas’s home. She could hear his footsteps as he scurried around his house. He finally opened the door. He was a middle-aged man with a scruffy beard under his big nose, glasses, and thinning hair. Tess wasn’t sure where he managed to find a billowy shirt in this day and age but he had one on and he smelled like smoke.

“Tessaline. Fancy seeing you today.”

“You see me every week.”

“Yes, and every week you look more and more—”

“Here is the money for this month's rent.” She thrust the note she pulled from her pocket.

“Yes, yes. Of course.” He pretended to reach for the note but grabbed onto her wrist. “Shall we talk inside?”

She tried to pull away, “Let go of me, Mister Thomas.”

“Oh, Tessaline, Tessaline, Tessaline,” he repeated as though he liked saying the word. “How many times do I have to remind you to call me Scott.”

“Let go, Scott.”

He tightened his grip and ground his teeth. “I let you live on my property and this is the thanks I get? Give me one reason why I should.”

“That's a tight grip.” She grunted, “Jase will know.”

“Ya got that right!” shouted Jase a few feet from the steps. He cocked his musket in his arms. The barrel pointed towards the ground at his side. Scott was stunned, but he maintained his grip.

“I’m not afraid of you. Or this little lady.” But of course, he was very much afraid.

“Tess, you paid him?” asked Jase.

“In full.”

“Now, unless you ready to fight me dudday, I suggest you let go o’ the woman.”

Immediately she was released. And down the steps she ran to Jase’s side. They turned around and started walking away. They could hear Scott shut his door, swearing.

“You don’t listen,” Jase said.

“Huh?”

“I told you to stay home. Said I’d go today.”

“First of all, you're right, I don’t listen to you. And second of all, how could I be sure you’d remember?”

Jase stopped his pace. “You trust me, Tess. You’re supposed to trust me.” He said it like it was so obvious, shaking his head, and they proceeded.

They went down an alleyway and came around to Ms. Cora’s home for children. She already saw them approaching from her french window in the front room where she held her classes. Ms. Cora waved.

“Hello there!”

“Hello, Ms. Cora,” Tessaline returned. Jase, walking behind her. Tessaline took out a cinch bag full of coins and gave it to the old woman. “This is for you.”

“Tessaline, you darlin’, you. But you know I don’t need your charity every week.”

“Yes, but those kids deserve it.”

“I’d rather you really help by taking that money to the church.”

“Oh, you know I don’t even step foot in that church unless I have to. It’s bad enough it’s the center of everything in this town.”

Ms. Cora looked away and pursed her lips.

“But of course not to you,” Tessaline added.

“How are you, Jase.” Ms. Cora attempted to change the subject.

“Good,” was all he said.

“Sal, Hi.” Ms. Cora waved to Mrs. Sally Wayne across the street.

Sally came over, “Hello, Dalia.” She squinted at the two she despised, “Jase. Tessaline. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Give you some words of wisdom.”

“And I’ve been meaning to avoid your wisdom at all cost,” Tessaline retorted.

“Tessaline,” Ms. Cora admonished.

“What?”

“Don’t worry Dalia. Nothing she says can hurt me. Least I live a life I ain’t got to be ashamed of. Live in a house that I own with a man I’m married to. Not some son of a drunk.”

Tessaline began to raise a clenched fist, Jase stopped her.

“And I have chil’ren who love me,” Mrs. Wayne continued. She glanced at her wristwatch, “Oh. And bidness to be about. Goodbye, Dalia.”

Tessaline mockingly mouthed the words “Goodbye, Dalia” as Mrs. Wayne walked away. Ms. Cora wasn’t pleased.

“Oh, go ahead, say it. You think she’s right,” said Tess.

“Well, I don’t agree with her delivery. But you know how I feel about your relationship. It is unseemly.”

The sound of little feet thumping, sliding, and someone busting into a wall, could be heard inside the house.

“What is that! I told y’all not to run in here!” Ms. Cora shouted at whoever was there. The child started crying.

“Agh. See you later Tessaline.”

Tess looked at Jase. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You think she’s right, too.”

“Tess, I think that if you had taken up on my offer-”

“Jase—”

“they wouldn’t be talkin’ about us.”

“No Jase. I’m not gonna marry you.”

Jase looked away, discouraged.

Tessaline touched his broad shoulder. “Look, we don’t have to do what they say. We have everything we need.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Afraid? Nothing.”

“Not true. ‘Cause I know you want everything that lady listed. A husband, kids, a house you own.”

With every word he mentioned, Tessaline felt her heart twang. She couldn't deny that deep down that was all she ever wanted. “But this is enough.”

“No, it’s not. No, it’s not.” Jase huffed. “Sometimes I just don’t understand you, Tess. You’re a real case, you know that?”