~❦︎~❦︎~
Chapter XIX - The Dirt Pit of Athena's Childhood
~❦︎~❦︎~
Underneath a deep red, beaded parasol, Athena rested on the carriage seat. She lifted her chin high, and the maroon beads that hung over the parasol's edges sheathed her pale forehead and eyes.
"Athena, darling, we are almost home!" her father shouted from the front seat.
"How lovely it will be upon arrival," the girl replied, her voice soft, like expensive silk. Her siblings crowded around her—the girls fawning over her gown and new look, the boys staring in disgust. Mrs. Everleigh kept watch from a distance.
Covering her face with her hand, the woman whispered to her husband, "I do not want the other children dressed in such garb as Athena. We may have the money to purchase these things now, but I would much prefer to make their outfits."
"I quite agree, Isolde." Mr. Everleigh perked. "After all, Athena should stand out amongst them." Then her eyes fell.
The family of ten rolled up the dirt driveway. Athena sniffed, searching for familiar scents and yet finding none. All of the tall blades of grass—like cascading ocean waves—had been snipped away. All that remained was a shallow pool of yellow and green.
"What happened to all of the grass, Father?"
"Oh, dear Athena, we hired a few men to come and clean up the yard. Isn't that wonderful?" Mr. Everleigh called, pulling on the reins to slow the horses down.
"Yes, Father, it's quite lovely and fashionable."
Isolde squeezed her wrists together.
Athena squinted, her eyes sifting through the narrow path that was the driveway.
"There is a surprise waiting for you, Athena," Father said.
"How delightful." She searched and searched for the home she had known since birth—with its strong wooden arches and unbendable door hinges, with its chairs and sofa that were not overly lavish but rather fit the aesthetic of the rest of the house, with its fireplace and garden and kitchen. Where was the house of her childhood?
"Father, where is home? I do not see it."
"Athena, we built a new house and tore down the old one. Surprise!"
The girl's soul sunk down to her feet, out of her toenails, and onto the floorboard of the carriage. The slight tinge of color left in her face after months of staying inside drained at once. She might as well have been a frozen baby, lying in the snow, shriveled up and iced over.
The carriage came to a halt. "Look!" Father pointed to the left, through a thicket in the woods, and into a small opening, where light filtered through. Beyond the thicket was a white house. Athena nodded but did not peer through the hole of white—rather, her eyes tore into the dirt pit of her childhood. A hole of mud and grime was all that remained.
Father urged the horses to go forward. The carriage moved, but Athena remained behind, climbing out of the grave, her soul reaching for the pit.
"What do you think?" Father asked.
"It's marvelous," Athena replied.
"I'm so glad you think so! It was a difficult decision to make, but I believe it was for the best. I wish to provide the best life for my family after all." Mr. Everleigh was the only one smiling in the carriage at that moment.
Eventually, the carriage came to a stop. Mr. Everleigh hopped out, helped his wife get down, then helped the children one-by-one. Athena shivered as she walked down the carriage steps. Autumn winds blew her ringlets about, but the rest of her body remained still. Her parasol stood upright, and so did she.
"Boys, take all of Athena's things inside, won't you?" Mr. Everleigh asked. They nodded. He turned to face his prize. "Athena, darling, isn't it everything you'd ever hoped for?"
"Why, yes, Father. It's so bright it could burn the f… it could be the sun…." She bowed her head.
"I thought white was fashionable enough. At least your aunt won't bully me anymore over the shabbiness of my home!" He guffawed, holding onto his stomach. "Here, you have a room all to yourself! You won't have to share it anymore with your siblings." Athena nodded. "Now that you are home and I can speak with you, I do expect you to continue working for Sir Claudius. We may have plenty of gold but I want to continue investing in the future of our family—perhaps opening an account in the bank of Dublin. I think that a splendid idea, don't you?"
"Father, I do not wish to work for Sir Claudius any longer."
"Yes, yes…" His smile faded. "I beg your pardon?"
"I do not wish to work for Sir Claudius any longer. We have enough money already and do not need more. I am in society now and my—"
"Athena," his eyes flashed the color of the surrounding falling leaves, "you must continue to work for Sir Claudius, do you understand?"
The girl's eyes remained on the ground. But she immediately picked them up, looked her father in the eyes, and twisted her parasol—without groping her skirts or shedding even one tear. "Yes, Father, I will do as you say."
And she did—although her heart and soul and every piece of her that dwelled on the inside longed to crawl out from underneath her skin and scream in defiance.