Chapter 2: Her Butler, Cunning
"Karen . . .Karen . . .Karen, I'm drowning! KAREN!"
Karen Jameson awoke from her sleep. The droning voice that had been whispering in her ear had changed to a bloodcurdling roar.
"Geoffrey?"
She posed the question to the midnight air. She knew he was not there. It was impossible for him to be there.
She looked around the dark room. No one. There were only shadows and the invisible brush of the nighttime wind. She lay her head back on the pillow and resituated her shoulder blades until she found that niche of comfort. Again, she dozed off into dream.
"Remus, would you stop looking at me like that!" Scarlet O' Connor spat at her butler-the handsome, dark-skinned man standing in the doorway of the dining room.
"Yes," he replied in a voice that sounded very human, but with some sort of strange eerie undertone that one could not rightly pinpoint at its source, "but may I ask why?"
"Because you are irritating me!" Scarlet replied angrily. "Also, no one likes to be watched while they eat . . . Except filthy Yankees-the animals!"
"I'm sorry, Miss Scarlet," Remus said with a cordial bow as he turned away. "I was just concerned about your demeanor. You seem a little depressed today."
"Don't give me that!" Scarlet shot at him as he disappeared into the hallway. "I know you don't care about my feelings."
"Calm down, Miss Scarlet!" Crissy, the plump maid said as she took Scarlet's plate and silverware. "Ya don' hafta throw a fit. 'E was just lookin' atchoo. Maybe it's cuz yer pretty. An' if I were you, I wooden mine that fine man lookin' mah way."
Crissy spoke the last part only loud enough for Scarlet to hear. In return, Scarlet shot her a look of combined surprise and disdain.
Scarlet sighed as Crissy proceeded to take all the dishes and scoot away with them. As she stood, she could not help but feel a slight shortness of breath-and she did not know if it was from the tightness of her corset, the southern summer heat, or the fact that Remus had suddenly reappeared in the doorway. Maybe it was a combination of all three.
"What do you want?" she asked rudely.
The butler, however, did not appear taken aback or angered. As a matter of fact, he always seemed to be quite amused by Scarlet's brashness.
He approached her.
"I just thought you might want to see this," Remus said, handing Scarlet a bundle of paper-the newspaper.
"It says the body of some public woman was found on the bank of Owl Creek," Scarlet said as she perused over the front page. "So what?"
She attempted to hand the paper back to the butler.
"Pardon me, my lady," he said, pushing the paper back in her direction, "but you may want to read the article a little bit closer."
Scarlet shot Remus an annoyed look from over top of the paper before she continued to read. A moment of silence and Scarlet's murmuring from half reading out loud ensued. After she had finished reading the article, she looked up at Remus with a curt look, trying not to reveal the fact that she now knew he had bested her.
"So," she said, folding the paper back to its original formation. "It says that she must have died during the night because that is when she disappeared. Also, she had once been a patient of my aunt's."
Remus nodded.
"And what is one reason a person would go to see a psychiatrist on a regular basis?" he asked.
"Because they are seeing things that are not there."
"Exactly. Or . . ."
"They are seeing things that are there, but no one else can see them."
"Which means . . ."
"This girl, Karen Jameson, was seeing ghosts."
"Precisely," The butler said with a self-satisfied grin.
"Or maybe," Scarlet continued, tossing the paper on the floor-an act that lead Remus to immediately pick it up, "she really was crazy and she purposely drowned herself."
Scarlet began stomping off. She had been searching for leads like this for the past couple of years and, so far, all leads had lead to nowhere. Unless one counted bank robbers who had found a way to make their skin glow in the dark.
"Miss Scarlet," Remus said, following behind her as she walked through the screen door and onto the porch. "Must you always be such a cynic?"
"Yes, actually I must," she replied as she looked out over what had once been lush land.
"You do realize," Remus began, "that I could make the crops grow back the way they were before, correct?"
Scarlet listened to his words as a flashback crossed her mind: an explosion, flames everywhere. The blue soldiers-a small handful of them-ravaging the house, taking things and trashing them-statues, busts, vases and urns, even Grandmother's tea set. The one she had collected piece by piece throughout the years. All of it was gone, just as was the family, except for Scarlet. The last ones to go were Sam and Stephen- Scarlet's twin brothers. They had left Scarlet alone at home just months before they perished in the war.
Scarlet. Alone. In the dark of night. The clattering of porcelain, glass, and stone. Her cursing as they stomped about. Then, suddenly, her screams as they all . . . As they all . . . In the wake of the conflagration taking shape out in the field. Rising in the place of the glory that had once been the pride of the O'Connor's. Their land had once been the most prosperous in the entire state.
"No," Scarlet replied. "I mean, I know you could, but I must refuse."
She turned now to face Remus with a stern expression drawn across her eyes.
"I want this," she said, motioning out to the land that had once stood as her childhood heaven, "to serve as a reminder. My drive to continue searching for those responsible. I must, if I truly wish to avenge my family's honour."
Remus grinned devilishly.
"Well, if you really wish to avenge them, won't you take every chance you can?"
Scarlet nodded sheepishly.
"Well, then," Remus continued. "I suppose we are going to be paying your aunt a visit."
"Yeeeesss? Ooooh Remus! So good to see you!" Tennessee, Blanche Porter's butler, said once he had opened the door.
"Ahem!" Scarlet grunted angrily.
"Oh, and Miss Scarlet too," Tennessee added, allowing both of his guests in, Scarlet first.
"Who is it?" a woman's voice called from somewhere beyond the entrance hall. "Do I have patients-OH, SCARLET! OH, I AM SO GLAD MY NIECE HAS REMEMBERED TO COME AND SEE ME!"
A woman with platinum blonde hair had rounded the corner and ambled up to Scarlet with excessive enthusiasm.
"Yes, yes. It's good to see you too, Aunt Blanche!" Scarlet struggled to say as she now felt as though she was being strangled for her aunt had embraced her so tightly that oxygen was being cut off from her face.
"Well," Blanche said once she had released her niece, "would you like to sit down for a cup of tea?"
"Actually," Scarlet began, "I am here to discuss one matter in particular."
"Well, then, we can have tea while we have our little discussion."
"But-"
"I insist. Come with me."
Scarlet and Remus followed Blanche into the parlour.
"Well," Blanche said, "we can have us a little sit while Tennessee puts us on some tea."
She nodded to Tennessee as she sat down on the sofa. Tennessee returned her nod with a slight bow and sneaked a wink in Remus's direction. Scarlet noticed this and blushed, although more surprised than embarrassed.
"Well just have yourselves a seat," Blanche said, motioning to the two chairs facing the sofa.
Remus waited for Scarlet to smooth out her skirts and sit before he also took a seat.
"So," Blanche began, "let's see, you're fifteen-"
"Sixteen," Scarlet interrupted.
"Sixteen now," Blanche continued. "My how time has gone by! I remember when you were just knee-high to a grasshopper!"
She chuckled, but Scarlet did not smile back.
"So," Blanche said, "when are you and Arthur getting married?"
Scarlet looked down. This was something about which she did not care to think.
Arthur Wilkes was Scarlet's betrothed. He had been since she was twelve and he was fourteen. Back then, she had been very happy with the prospect of marrying the boy she had had a crush on since she was four years-old. But, somehow, she had lost interest in him. Although the two were still considered to be promised to one another, Arthur had more than noted Scarlet's lack of enthusiasm for their relationship. Due to this, Arthur had yet to formally profess his readiness to marry Scarlet.
"We will when we're ready," Scarlet finally replied.
Blanche chuckled.
"Well then you better hurry! I hear that Jezebel Chopin has been eying him up and down. You better make sure that boy doesn't go and run off with that cow-lashed princess. I will never forgive you if he does."
Scarlet did not reply. It was not because she did not know what to say, but simply because she did not care to think of anything to say. She already knew about Jezebel's taste for men like Arthur. Scarlet figured that if Arthur and Jezebel ran off to elope, she would have one less trifle to worry about.
"Oh, the tea!" Blanche exclaimed as Tennessee really had arrived with the tea tray.
Tennessee sat the tray down on the parlour table and poured three cups of tea. After doing so, he made a formal bow and left the room-but not before granting Remus another suggestive look.
Scarlet gasped, looking over at Remus who she noted had remained quite stone-faced.
"Would you care for cream?" Blanche asked, offering the creamer in Scarlet's then Remus's direction.
Remus shook his head, bringing the steaming cup to his lips and taking a sip.
"No, thank-you," Scarlet replied. "But I would like lemon."
"I'm sorry, Darling," Blanche said, adding cream to her own cup and daintily stirring. "But I am fresh out of lemons. Since the war it has been hard to come by good lemons."
"Oh, right," Scarlet murmured, staring down into the murky liquid in the cup that sat on the saucer on her lap.
"I made cream-puffs!" Tennessee called, sliding into the room with a tray full of delicious-looking pastries.
He offered the selection to his mistress, who took one and sat it on her saucer alongside her teacup. He then held the tray in front of Scarlet, who attempted to also grab one. But before she could, Tennessee pulled the tray away.
"NOT THAT ONE!" he squealed. "I made that big one just for Remmy."
"Remmy?" Scarlet questioned as she chose a different cream-puff.
She took a bite, but ended up immediately spitting it out.
"Uggghh, that was the most atrocious thing I have ever tasted!" she snapped. "Are you trying to kill me?"
She looked up at Tennessee who frowned, appearing quite disheartened. He then turned to Remus.
"Did you like it, Remmy?" Tennessee asked.
Remus swallowed the bite he had taken of his cream-puff.
"Well," he replied. "It's not bad."
"WOOOOOHOOOOO!" Tennessee cried, bouncing through the room as though someone had set his pants on fire. "He says he likes it! He likes my cooking! Yeah! Yeah!"
Scarlet looked on in utter shock as her aunt's butler danced to his own ditty.
"Well," Blanche said, taking in another sip of hot tea, "what is it that you wanted so dearly to discuss?"
Scarlet reached into her handbag to produce the very same paper that had been handed to her by her own butler earlier that morning. She handed it over to her aunt who gave her a look tinged with slight confusion.
"The public woman that was murdered," Scarlet began. "She was a patient of yours."
"Yes," Blanche replied. "That she was. I have many patients."
"Well," Scarlet continued. "what was wrong with her?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Scarlet replied, realizing that her aunt was already suspicious of her interest, "was she having hallucinations?"
Blanche sat her cup and saucer on the table.
"I do not normally disclose such information about my patients, Scarlet."
"Why not?" Scarlet said this without thinking about it.
"Well," Blanche said, sounding very much taken aback, "would you want people to know about your problems if you were, let us say, unbalanced?"
Scarlet shook her head. She had known it. The entire visit was a waste of time. Besides, what proof did she have that . . .
"Come now, Blanche," Remus said. "Do you not trust your own niece? She is family, you know. They always say that blood runs deeper that water."
Blanche blushed. Scarlet, noticing the rise of pink upon her aunt's cheeks, looked back at Remus in curiosity. How the devil did he always seem to get the reaction he desired? But, then, looking into his dark red eyes, Scarlet remembered-he was not human.
Remus was very handsome in appearance. Scarlet could not even deny that. She hated the way he looked at her. His eyes stared upon her with such a hunger-a hunger that could not be quelled by simple means. Scarlet had once dreamed that men would stare at her in such a way. But now, since . . . She abhorred the very thought of those eyes. She felt that they undressed her with their stare, not stopping with her clothes, but peeling away her very flesh and bones. He wanted to see what would one day become his. The longer he had to wait for it, the more he hungered for it.
"I suppose you're right," Blanche said, turning to Scarlet. "Scarlet, do you promise to not tell a single soul what I am about to disclose?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
Blanche sighed.
"Alright," she said. "Well, to answer your question, yes, Karen Jameson was delusional. She became a patient of mine after allegedly seeing her husband, Geoffrey's ghost. I worked with her many a session before she decided that she could no longer afford to come see me. That's when I heard that she had turned to . . .well . . . Her line of work."
"So," Scarlet said, "She didn't become a prostitute until after she stopped seeing you?"
Blanche nodded.
"She was already short on money when she started seeing me. She hadn't wanted to spend her money on treatment until her hallucinations became far too much for her to bear. You see, Karen used to live in the hills."
"Oh," Scarlet nodded.
The "hill peoples" were not very wealthy at all. Although the war had taken its toll on wealthy plantation owners, the ones who were hurting the worst were those who hardly had anything to begin with.
"So strange, though," Blanche continued. "Karen was a very bright girl. She didn't speak very clearly, but she was not ignorant by any means."
Blanche chuckled.
"I have worked much with hill people. They fight a lot, and they do not have much, but they tend to surprise me with the understanding they have about life . . . And death."
She looked down as though she was staring down into her own grave.
"So," Scarlet began as she and Remus left Blanche's house, "now we know that this dead girl had not only been seeing ghosts, but that she was also from the hills."
"And what difference does that make?" Remus asked, intrigued.
"It means we are wasting our time," Scarlet replied. "Everyone knows that hill people are crazy. Her husband was also probably her brother."
"Blanche didn't tell you that."
"Do you want me to go back and ask her?"
"I only want one thing," Remus said with a bow. "And until I get it, I must always do as you wish."
Scarlet cringed. How could one so sinister ever be so cordial?
"However," Remus continued, "I do believe it would be in your best interest if we made a visit to Owl Creek tonight."
"We better find something tonight," Scarlet complained. "Because these mosquitoes are absolutely dreadful."
She continued walking down the trail with Remus following closely behind. The heavy sound of crickets chirping accompanied their every step. The scent of a tired, sweaty day lingered on the stagnant night air.
"Worry not, my lady, for there is the Owl Creek Bridge," Remus said.
Scarlet looked ahead and did indeed see the rickety silhouette of the Owl Creek Bridge.
It wasn't much of a bridge. It was nothing but a bunch of splintered planks bolted together over the gently flowing expanse of gurgling water that was Owl Creek. The fluid shown as liquid silver in the moonlight, but was illuminated further by the wandering green light of the fireflies.
But wait, a strange shape rose from the planks of the bridge. And it was moving! Wait, there were many of them . . . And they were shaped like men.
Scarlet and Remus approached further. Scarlet's heart thudded heavily in her chest. Was it-
Finally, when she had gotten close enough, she could see them. They all appeared to be middle-aged-just as her father would have been. But then, in the glow of lantern light, Scarlet realized that one of them-a darker skinned man-had a length of rope bound around his bare ankles and wrists.
The men turned as Scarlet's steps finally thudded upon the planks of the bridge.
"Hey!" one of them cried. "Wha-what are you doing here, young woman? You need to turn around and go home."
"Why?" Scarlet asked, noticeably shifting her gaze so that it rested on the black man. "Is there something here I should not be seeing."
She had cringed at the man's voice. He had a strange accent—one that reminded her of that night . . .
"No. There is nothing wrong going on here."
"Honestly?" Scarlet pressed. "Then can you please tell me why this man is bound at the wrists and ankles?"
"He stole my pocket watch," one of the men who stood further away blurted out.
"No I didn't!" the bound man shouted.
"SHUT UP, N*****!" another man exclaimed, beating him across the face.
Scarlet chuckled.
"What's so funny?" the same man asked, flashing a mean grin, "You like seeing this n***** get slapped?"
He raised his hand again as though he was about to bring it down even harder against the black man's just-recovered countenance.
"No," Scarlet replied seriously, and no sooner had she said it than Remus leapt in and took the wrist of the other man's raised fist into his hand.
"What the-" the man said, looking up to see his apprehender. "Do my eyes fail me, or is this another of them damned n*****s?"
He struggled to shake off Remus's grip, but soon realized who was stronger.
"MEN!" he called. "GET THIS N*****!"
At once, all the other men leapt into action as they tried to bring down Remus. Although Remus did release the leading man's wrist, he escaped unscathed. His attackers ended up beaten down with dinner knives pinning the shoulders of their coats to the boards of the bridge.
"So," Scarlet said in a serious tone, "this man's life is the cost of some cheaply made watch?"
"He pretended to bump into me and took it before I knew it," the one man said from where he was pinned. "Besides, it wasn't cheaply made! It was my father's. Also, he's a filthy-"
"Enough!" Scarlet interrupted. "This is pathetic. Do you have any proof of the crime? I cannot believe you men would allow yourselves to sully your hands for nothing more than a few cogs and a brass chain. You disgust me. I can tell you, from my own experience, that so much more can be lost than a silly trinket. My land . . . my family . . . my honour . . . All of it is no more. And you all wish to sully your own honour over nothing!"
No one said a word. In the light of the lantern, Scarlet could see the astounded expression of the one attending the bound man.
"Let this man go," Scarlet said. "I will even pay you for his release if you so require it."
"Oh no. Selling people is illegal."
"So is lynching," Scarlet replied smartly.