She ran, what else could she do but run? The thought of what was behind her allowed no other reaction. When Margaret first met Gabriel he acted ferociously jealous of everyone around her and like so many other young girls, with the muscular, impassioned men of their romance novels as their only knowledge of men, she mistook his behavior as love. She had never thought that his violence would ever be turned in her direction. Their marriage was no product of deep love but of Gabriel's need to secure her as his own. He had almost secured her body and soul but then one day, after so many years of keeping her feet planted firmly to the floor she ran. She didn't know where she was going but for the time being she was just happy to know that she could still remember how to run. She stumbled through the thick brush in the pouring rain, often tripping over her silk dress and rocks and branches. By the time she had stopped every inch of her was either scratched, bruised, or muddied and her entire self was soaked. She ran until she was physically unable to run anymore at which point she collapsed at the foot of a tree and sobbed until she finally found piece in sleep.
When her consciousness returned she saw that it was morning and that she had been moved to a small clearing. Next to her lay the remains of a fire and underneath her was a coat larger than any other she had seen. She looked around for her mysterious friend but there was no one to be seen. She sat there for a while longer, not sure whether to wait or just get up and leave, and then she saw him. A colossal creature with the agility and speed of an animal, but who walked on his hind legs like a man. Before Margaret knew it he was directly in front of her. "It can't be a man" Margaret thought. It had watery, red eyes, stark white teeth, jet black hair, and skin the color of death. Now Margaret had never been one for fainting and instead stood up and looked the creature in the eye, determined not to show any fear. They both stood still for a long time, starring at each other, until finally she determined from the timid expression on his face that he would not harm her.
"Who are you"? she demanded a little harshly, still trying to appear unafraid in hopes that it would convince the potentially dangerous juggernaut that she had handled worse creatures than him before. He looked around nervously; this meeting had not been what he expected. He had expected her to swoon or scream or runaway like all the rest did.
"I'm the one who found you in the rain last night and brought you here". Margaret was glad to see that he could not only speak, but speak eloquently and she began to let her guard down.
"Umm, thank you for that."After a moments pause "You're welcome". Still with an expression of confusion "Do you want something to eat?"
"I wouldn't mind a bite."
"Ok then" he said letting a smile break through. He began to stoke the fire and set down a bundle of fish he had caught.
"So what's your name?"
"Well, I don't really have an official name. My father never named me. Although there was once a blind man who called me Damien, but I think he thought I was someone else."
"Damien sounds like a pretty good name for you." He nodded in response.
"So what are you doing way out here in the woods?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"Well I'm heading south and I tend to cause quite a stir when I get near the main roads. But you don't look like you need to hide."
"Well believe me if I went back there now I would cause quite a stir as well."
"Back where?"
"To my husband."
"You're married?"
"You could say that. You could also say that I'm legally bonded to a miserable, domineering sack of flesh for the rest of my days."
"So I take it there's trouble in paradise?"
"The trouble is with me. I asked to marry that miserable man, and I choosed to stay blind to his underlying hatred of me."
"Do you hate him?" Margaret sighed, putting her forehead in her hand.
"I don't know. Sometimes I think I do but I get so confused sometimes."
"Well, love and hate are very similar. They both make you crazy and obsessive. Your emotions, your health and even your life depend on the person you feel for… At least that's what I read once."
"I guess that makes sense. You talk pretty good for someone who lives by himself in the woods."
"I've got a lot of time on my hands, so I spend it reading."
"Do you think I should leave my husband?" Margaret asked staring into the burnt umbers of the fire.
"Well, I don't know. What does he do to you?"
"The being hit and yelled at don't bother me so much as when he'll just refuse to even look at me, he hates me so much. It's those times that I think about leaving, but I can never get up the will to actually do it."
"Except this time," Damien said turning his head to look at her.
"Except this time," Margaret echoed looking back at him. After a short moment of looking into each others eyes they quickly averted them and an awkward silence set in. After what seemed like a very long time it was finally broken by Damien.
"You're welcome to travel with me if you like." He said this rather timidly while looking at the ground and digging into the dirt with a stick.
"No I can't. I vowed in front of man and god that I would stay with that man no matter what and I intend to keep my promise."
"Even if he doesn't keep his?" Margaret just stared without giving an answer.
"All I know is that you deserve to feel love Mrs. Wickum and I hope your husband understands that." Damien said while both of them starred at the ground.
"Actually it's Mrs. Murphy. My maiden name is Wickum…and thanks."
When margaret returned to the house she paused for a minute upon seeing the shattered glass on the floor. The pain of the memory lay fresh in her mind. When Gabriel and she had come back from a party held by a woman with a title, little money, and a forked tongue he laid into her. Obsessive personalities usually go hand in hand with drinking problems and Gabriel was no exception. She could smell the stench of alcohol on his hot breath as he pinned her against the wall demanding the name of her nonexistent lover. Some people will make themselves believe anything in order to justify their hatred. When his demands were only met with Margaret's pleading he threw her to the floor.
"You're a lying whore!" he screamed throwing the wine glass at her. Fortunately for Margaret though drunks don't have the best aim and it shattered against the floor. Margaret looked hesitantly from the broken glass up at her husband with tear soaked eyes.
"Was there ever a time when you loved me? Even just a little bit?" she asked in a small desperate voice. Gabriel looked to her with eyes burning with fire and answered in a low, deep voice, sneering.
"How can anyone love a spineless dog"?
Upon recalling the passionate hatred in her husband's eyes a new feeling came upon Margaret. She felt angry. She began to think of all the ways she could think of to spite him. All sorts of satisfyingly vengeful scenarios ran through her head but the only thing she could think to do of at the time was grab a pair of scissors, take her long black hair in one hand and clip it all off. Afterward she looked at herself in the mirror, dispelled hair in hand. The words spineless dog ran through her head, bringing a fire to her eyes. She couldn't help but notice that all her anger, scrapes, filth and short hair the reflection was quite an imposing figure. She then stripped off her ruined dress and donned her husband's trousers, boots, hat and shirt. She remembered what Peter had said about Gabriel not keeping his promise. She then collected any food she could find and put it into a carpet bag. She left the house feeling very large and strong although she was swimming in Gabriel's clothes. She went into a wig shop to sell her hair she gained a purse full of money for her long tresses and a swelling of confidence after the owner had called her sir. In a haze of anger, frustration, and desperation she contrived a plan to travel alone portraying a man and to start her life all over again on a clean slate somewhere far away.
Her intention was to take a carriage but she hesitated, looking in the direction of the woods. She remembered her former conviction to move on alone with her life, but then she wondered at what good being alone would do her. Her imagination showed her a brief glimpse of traveling with Damien and she thought herself happy in it. Once again Margaret found herself tearing through the woods, but instead of being hopeless and aimless this time she was exuberant and looking for a very particular person. At first she couldn't find him and was beginning to worry that he had already left, but then she caught sight of the enormous awkward figure striding in between the trees.
"Damien! Damien!" she yelled speeding her pace and holding onto her hat as she ran down the hill. Damien turned around slightly startled and pleasantly surprised to see the small woman rambling toward him.
"Miss Wickum, I mean Mrs. Murphy what are you doing here"?
"Damien I want to come with you if you wouldn't mind".
He had no idea what had inspired her to race after him, but he liked that she had.
"I can't think of a better traveling companion"
She smiled broadly, still trying to catch her breath. He noticed how every aspect of her face was changed when she smiled, he liked that too. So the pair went on their way with every step hoping to leave their past behind, but it's funny how greatly the past can effect your future.
"By the way, why are you dressed like that"?Margaret looked down at herself and smiled again.
"I don't know, but I like it".