Chapter 2: Helen, Without a Choice
"I don't understand," Satine said disgruntled.
Celestine laughed and tucked a strand of loose ruby hair behind her daughter's ear.
"What don't you understand, my love?" Celestine asked.
"Why did Helen let Paris take her away?" the little girl questioned.
"Maybe she wanted to go with him," Celestine replied.
"Why?"
"Well, Paris was supposedly handsome. He was wealthy, his family was exceptional," Celestine explained, shifting her weight on the mat Satine slept on. It was the darling's bed time, but she had insisted on Celestine reading to her from The Iliad.
"I don't think so," Satine declared, "Paris isn't very courageous. Helen wouldn't want to go with him. She has more sense than that."
Celestine smiled down at the little girl, "Maybe Menelaus is cruel to her. Maybe going with Paris opened a window for her to get out."
"Why couldn't she make Menelaus stop being cruel?" Satine said.
Celestine sighed "In this world, my love, women don't always have a choice in matters that concern them."
"That's wrong!" Satine exclaimed.
"It is. It's very wrong. Yet somehow…women sometimes end up in the clutches of men and it is hard to escape."
"But not impossible?" Satine looked slightly frightened.
"No. Not impossible," Celestine said, quietly, "Now, time for bed." She gently tucked Satine under a thing comforter. She kissed Satine's soft forehead and turned down the lamp.
"Goodnight, my love."
"Goodnight, Mama."
Celestine softly shut the door behind her. She was once again alone in the main apartment. The city sparkled outside the window. She went to her bed and laid down her head.
It is hard to escape…
…but not impossible?
No.
Not impossible.
Léonce stumbled into the shadowy apartment. Celestine only heard soft echoes of his footsteps in her half-sleeping state. He lay down on the bed. She could smell his signature stench of alcohol and women. He was ridiculously drunk. He slid his hand up her leg, to where her torso met her hips, to her chest and finally to her neck. He moaned.
"Go away, Léonce," she said, quietly.
"Come to me, Celestine. You've been frigid for so long," he said. He was gruff, harsh.
"No," she said.
"What if I didn't give you a choice?" his foul breath climbed around and found her nostrils.
"That's something that would make you very sorry the thought came into your head," Celestine said firmly. He groaned and removed his hand and got off the bed. She went back to sleep.
Despite the late hour, Satine was awake. She was tired, but awake. She was thinking over The Iliad. Other stories entered her mind now and again. She acted out each part with detail. She saw herself as each character. Each different skin…
Her door slowly opened. The bulky silhouette of her father stood there. Satine pulled the covers to her chin and held it tight.
"Bonsoir, pretty one," her father said, maliciously, advancing in the inky moonlight.
"Please, go away," Satine whispered.
"I'm your father. You want me to go away?" he said. His eyes flashed. Satine didn't understand what flashed out of them, but it frightened her.
He laid down upon her. He smelled horrible. Satine didn't understand…
"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she asked.
He bared stained teeth, "Maybe.
"No!" came a shrill scream from the child.
Celestine sat up. Her blood froze in her veins. The door to Satine's room was open. Celestine rushed. She saw Léonce on top of the small child, ripping at her night gown.
"Léonce! No!" Celestine charged at her husband, trying to pull him off of her baby. He threw her against the wall. She got up and ran to the stove where her iron pan sat. She rushed back into the room, hitting him over the head. He instantly fell limo onto the mattress. Satine was sobbing violently. She understood now.
"Mama! Mama! Please! Make it stop! Mama! Mama!" she screamed.
Celestine pulled the child out from under the unconscious Léonce. She held her tightly.
"Shhhh. It's all over. Don't worry. He'll never touch you again, do you understand me?" Celestine pulled Satine's face from her shoulder to look at her. Already, dark bruises had appeared on her pale skin.
"Here's what we'll do, my love," Celestine said, "Take a sack from under my bed and put all the books you can in it. I am going to pack out clothes."
"Where are we going?" Satine asked.
"Away. We'll find somewhere safe, I promise," Celestine said.
"Is he dead?" she asked.
Celestine looked to her husband and places two fingers on his neck. No heartbeat.
"Yes."
"Good."