Hadrian's Wall (27 page)

Charity was pointing up and when I turned to
look, I almost had a heart attack. The last turn of the wall was
above us in all its grandeur and perched atop were three giant
statues of panthers carved from black granite. They were seated,
but inclined ahead in a position of attack, as if ready to pounce
on unsuspecting prey. Unlike the image on the coat-of-arms, the
eyes were made of yellow quartz and the reflection of the sun made
them glow eerily.

The Panthers appeared to be
looking straight down at the “tiny human ants” that were
circulating through the streets and alleyways. This feature seemed
ambiguous to me. What did their looks mean? Were they safeguarding
the people or watching them? They seemed attentive and dangerous at
same time...and so perfect, so real that I wondered if they might
jump from their stone pedestal any time.

So that’s the Panthers’
Cliff...

“Awesome, don’t you
think?” Charity knew it and I believe she really didn’t expect a
reply. “Behind the Panthers statuary is the family
mansion
. The front of the
property is close to the cliff. All you can see on the other side
is the entrance gates. We have a road that is
somewhat...private.”

“What do you mean ‘somewhat
private’?”

She sighed. “It means that only family
members have access.”

I looked back at the stone wall, where the
Panthers were sitting. In fact, there would be no way to get
through in that direction. To invade the Cahill domain, it would be
necessary to climb the full height of the wall and to do that would
require special equipment.

“Now, let’s go shopping,”
said Charity.

Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of the
street. “I already I told your cousin that I feel bad about this
kind of situation.”

She gave me a look of
disdain and boredom. “Honey, don’t start your litany! I need to
spend this quota given to me by Adrian...Senior...on this card.”
She hesitated for a couple of seconds before drawing the
gold credit card
from her
handbag, like someone drawing a gun from a holster. “Otherwise,
he’ll think I failed and he’ll flay me alive.”

“But...”

“As his assistant, you’ll
need more appropriate clothing. I’m not saying you have to
dress
like a
supermodel
. Don’t take this wrong,
darling, but you’re not a supermodel.”
She
gestured impatiently. “Good news is you won’t have to go around
wearing fancy clothes.”

“Like you, for example?” I
needled her. I couldn’t resist.

“I don’t...” Indignant,
she stopped walking and glanced at her own outfit and then at me.
The impression I got is that nobody ever
dared
criticize her wardrobe. “I’m
very simple in this
prêt-à-porter
fashion.”

“Prêt what?”

“Don’t change the
subject.
You’ll need a more varied
wardrobe. Consider this an advance payment.”

“I have
not
accepted the job” I
delicately reminded her.

She whirled around,
seeming rather nervous now. The more nervous she seemed, the more
she let her quiet façade of perfection slip, the calmer I was. Had
she not noticed that I’m the kind of person who
goes against the grain...the
kind
that the more you push them, the more they resist?
That’s me
. Certainly,
her illustrious cousin has noticed.

“Think about it,” she was
saying. “When will you get another chance like that? Senior is
considering granting you the unique opportunity to study art in one
of the best universities in the world. The UWall is highly
selective...but a few words from him and
voila!

“Don’t tell me...” My voice
was full of irony, but I couldn’t help it. “Adrian Senior also
founded the university?”

“No,” she laughed, “but
he
allowed
it to
be built here. And, yes, he is the major
contributor
.
”

Of course!

“Let the old man feel
better playing “Daddy Long Legs.” He needs to believe that his life
is still worthwhile. Moreover, he’s always wanted a daughter to
pamper.”

I noticed bitterness in her voice. Charity
seemed resentful of something. I decided it was time to make a
strategic concession just to calm things down.

“One,” I said.

“One what?”

“One pair of shoes. It’s
all I’ll allow you to buy for me...and I will repay you
later.

I only gave in to her
because I couldn’t stand walking in my worn out flat shoes. Walking
along the streets of Hadrian’s Wall, precariously balancing myself
in a pair of shoes like Charity’s wasn’t an option.
It would be a Chinese torture
.

Charity rolled her eyes.

“Ten.”

Unbelievable! She’s trying
to negotiate with me.

“One.” I held my ground.

“Five.”

“One.”

Silence.

“Two,” she said.

I hesitated. Charity smiled, anticipating
her apparent victory.

“If we reach an agreement,
I promise you, I won’t insist anymore. Now look, I think you need a
jacket for the cold, a good haircut and ...” When she saw that I
was about to protest, she quickly added, “...and you can pay me
back with your first paycheck. How about that?”

Cornered. That’s how I
felt. If I accepted the job, I’d be giving up my search for truth,
at least for now. What I meant is that I’d have to postpone my
return to South Portland. If I didn’t, well... After all, what
could I expect to discover on the coast? What would I do without
money and without a place to stay? If everything really was in my
head, I knew what would happen—I’d end up on the
street...homeless.

“I didn’t do well in
school assessment tests.” I was whining, half-serious,
half-joking.
I don’t know why I said
that
.

Her smile widened. She probably took my
comment to mean that I was consenting to everything—shopping,
employment, college, and everything else that she and both of the
Adrians were planning.

“No problem. You can re-do
it. We’ll help you.”

The Cahills were trying to
help me too much. I had to acknowledge it. They didn’t treat me
like...like a crazy girl...incompetent, unreliable. I wanted so
much to believe all this caring was genuine, but I still couldn’t,
especially because of the reluctance that I felt coming from
Charity. It was obvious she was determined to do something she had
no wish to do, so why she was so determined? Was it because Adrian
Cahill Senior proclaimed himself my protector? Was she
jealous?
I believe there’s always a price
to pay for benevolence.
However, what
really distressed me was not getting plausible answers to my
questions.

10

BANSHEE
APPEARANCE

Charity practically dragged me to the beauty
salon, a very elegant, fashionable place where I was treated like a
princess. The woman who cut my hair introduced herself as a hair
stylist. She made me feel very comfortable. I could see she was a
seasoned pro as she talked to me about my personal tastes. She made
it clear what she planned to do with my hair, but also gave me the
opportunity to state my preferences so that we could arrive at a
consensus. The result was a modern cut, not audacious, but valuing
my curls. My new hairstyle framed my face nicely.

I decided not to color it
or add highlights, as Charity suggested, not because I didn’t want
to try a different look. My concern was the cost of maintaining an
expensive hairstyle. I decided it was best to adopt a safe plan and
have the stylist do something simple, long lasting, and economical.
Who knew when I’d have the opportunity to return to a beauty salon
so my motto was
Take it easy!

I tried to enjoy life, but
in moderation, you know. Charity grumbled that she didn’t
understand why I wanted to preserve the “virginity” of my hair. I
looked at her and responded that I planned to remain a virgin
in
all respects
.
She stared me, very surprised, while the salon’s employees smiled.
I laughed because the expression on Charity’s was very funny. I
could no longer contain myself and I laughed louder.

“You’re unbelievable!”
Charity laughed too.

“More incredible than
finding a virgin girl, is finding virgin hair...that’s it!” said
the manicurist as she worked on Charity’s nails.

“Now, you said a great truth,” the hair
stylist agreed, pointing at the manicurist with the hairbrush.

But I didn’t care for their
jokes until I was having fun. The girls were very nice and seemed
to enjoy their work.

The hair stylist pampered
my hair with expensive, fragrant shampoo and conditioner and then
she taught me how to comb my new cut. When she turned me around to
face the mirror, I was surprised. I saw the face of a strange
girl...a
cute
strange girl. I couldn’t believe it was me. I guess I was so
accustomed to what I’d looked like for so long that I couldn’t
imagine myself any other way. But “the penny has dropped” and I
became aware that this haircut was kind of a milestone: I was
saying goodbye to the “frightened orphan” and saying hello to the
adult woman, but will Adrian see me as a woman?

* * *

After leaving the salon we went to the alley
where some very chic boutiques were located. Charity stopped
briefly to look at all of the attractive displayed in the shop
windows. No matter how much she tried pressure me to allow her to
purchase the beautiful clothes she saw, I resisted bravely. I
finally entered one of the stores when I saw that it was a shoe
store. Finally...the shoes that I wanted and needed.

Again I told
myself,
Take it easy!

I started by choosing a color, something
that would go with most of my clothes. However, the main criterion
was comfort. I was tired of wearing uncomfortable shoes. My feet
were small and would adapt well to any footwear; however, I have
sensitive skin and everything hurts me.

“You have very beautiful feet.” The
saleswoman gave me a nice compliment.

Yes, I was lucky, but I was
ashamed that they were stains from blisters that had burst because
I’d decided to wear my killer ballet flats today. I decided to wear
my new Converse All Stars sneakers out of the store.

“Two pairs,” Charity reminded me.

I gave her an annoyed look.

“Just in case you step on
dog poop or bear poop or if you need to wash them. You’ve got to
have at least one spare pair to wear while the other pair is
drying,” she argued.

Even though I did not want to accept it, her
argument was pretty convincing. Nothing in this world could make me
go back to using those damn ballet flats—not even a bear poop.

After finishing that task,
we entered at another store.
Why?
Oh, she wanted me to choose a jacket to replace
the one that I’d lost...or rather to replace the one I’d left
in
South Portland
.

I must confess that even
though it was against my will, it felt really good just putting it
on. If it were up to Charity, I would not have wasted time trying
on each of the coats. I should just take all of them—without guilt
or stress, but my conscience would allow me to accept only one. I
used the same criteria that I’d used to choose my new
sneakers.

“You need something for
the
other
season
as well,” said Charity, interrupting my thoughts.

This time, I
glared at her.

“What?” She blinked. There
was a look of astonishment on her face. “You cannot use this parka
on
less
cold
days, can you? You’ll sweat like a pig!”

“With my first paycheck,
I’ll buy my own clothes.”

She gave me a big smile. “Right.”

“Wrong...I still haven’t
accepted the job,” I replied, confused at her response.

Adrian was right. That
girl was a force of nature.
A
tsunami!
I had to grab onto a tree or I’d
be dragged through her turbulent waters.

After choosing the coat, I
tried to rush her to leave before she bought the whole store. We
were working up to that...
Geez!
She hadn’t come out of the dressing room for
quite a while and the bags were piling up on the
counter!

Charity grumbled after we left the store.
She thought we should have bought more stuff, but she soon dropped
the subject, or so it seemed to me. Suddenly, she insisted on
taking my shopping bags, although she was loaded with her own. I
refused, but she yanked them out of my hands.

“You’ve got to be careful
of your ribs,” was her justification. “Let’s stop and grab a quick
snack. I’m starving.”

We sat on the patio outside of a snack bar,
which faced a bandstand. I tried to limit my choice to the cheapest
meal on the menu, so I ordered fries and a Coke. I was embarrassed
about not being able to pay my share, but hungry enough not to
refuse her offer.