Midnight's Song (3 page)

I couldn’t see what on Earth she was
talking about. I wanted to shout that I was clearly smaller, had
dark hair and eyes that weren’t her wild bluish shade. What
resemblance did she see that was so stark? I wanted to say these
things but remained silent. Too much was happening around me to do
anything but keep to myself. Just then, a group of discourteous men
bombarded the room.

“Has everyone finished with their
customary visit?” One of them asked.

It was a
5
^th
caste officer. Without asking again, one of the men went to
the front of the room and began shutting the casket. As the top of
it began to fall shut, I suddenly remembered something that caused
me to halt it one last time.

“Wait!”

The man caught the top and
propped it back open for me. I had remembered something – something
that everyone in my village did. I came to the edge of the silken
bed where she eternally slept and placed a kiss on her forehead.
With tears in my eyes, I plucked a strand of my hair and wove it
into hers.

When I was finished, I looked up and
gave a nod to the man standing beside me. He quickly took the top
and latched it shut. The group of men then proceeded to take the
coffin and carry it out the door.

“She remembered,” I heard someone
whisper.

When I turned, there was a
haggard woman standing directly in front of me. She grabbed my face
and touched her forehead to mine.

“
Greater things than all
of the heavens and the earth await you. Remember our people,
Elissa.”

The words of the old woman
caused no second thoughts, no ridicule. I simply took them and
walked. My friends and neighbors looked toward me in unanimity
after witnessing the tradition I had upheld. The women of my
mother’s family quickly grew weary of it all and called for their
carriage to take them to the gravesite ahead of the coming
crowd.

“Lead the walk,” the old
woman whispered in my ear. I looked over my shoulder for
reassurance, but just like that – she was gone. I looked ahead and
took in a deep breath, knowing that these people had called me to
lead them. It was time to be brave. Someone gave me a light tap,
and I began marching.

As we passed through the
town, our crowd grew in number. We grew from a crowd of perhaps 20
to over 80 in number. People emerged from their homes and shops to
join in our mourning. For the first few minutes, we marched in
complete silence. As we neared the cemetery, I took the lead in a
traditional parting hymn.

“
Golden streets and skies of blue. Life when earth is done and
through,”
I sang.

Soon, the crowd joined in. My people,
The People of the Sea – knew this song very well. We all neared the
site of interment, our voices raised in a chorus of passion and
grief:

“To the realm of glowing
sun

In place before the world
begun

Of legends and
legacy

Death defeated
victoriously”

I saw Papa sitting on a
chair beside the newly dug grave, watching incurably as the men
lowered the casket into the ground. I was incredibly disturbed to
see what looked like a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Some members
of my mother’s family had already arrived and were sitting in the
second row. A minister came forward and addressed the onlookers,
now having surpassed 100 in number.

Among the crowd there was
wailing and singing. I could feel the souls of each person in the
crowd bonded tightly with mine. It was a strange phenomenon; one
that I knew could be felt by others, too. From the center of the
crowd, a widow began singing:

“Joy is to the child born
of fire!

Let her be forged by
flame!

Joyous sonnets await
her!

A queen among
peasants

An angel among men is
she!”

The entire procession
joined in with her in another beautiful chorus. Next thing I knew,
I felt someone pull on the sleeve of my dress and hoist me into the
air. I was soon sitting on the shoulders of a stranger, tears in my
eyes as we all sang an ancestral victory song.

“Victorious, she shall
conquer!

No end can reach her
now

The land above the sea is
hers

The world beyond our
sky”

It was a beautiful sound
to the ones who understood it. As we sang, I noticed Papa. He sat
comatose, awake but unaware of what was going on around him.
Someone from my mother’s family, a woman I’d later find was my aunt
Beeti, spoke in disgust.

“Barbaric!” She remarked
about the song. “What a primitive, disrespectful, desecrating
practice!”

The minister expressed a
look of distaste but didn’t speak a word. We all knew that he
looked down on our way of life. He still knew better than to speak.
It wasn’t his place to do so right now.

The group disbanded after
a few songs and kindly met me with fattening dishes and casseroles
at my home. Papa had already locked himself in his room. I was
amazed at the generosity of these people – that although we were
all equally as poor, they had big enough hearts to provide us with
food that it would take nearly a week’s wages to afford.

As grateful as I was I
still couldn’t bring myself to eat. I would later regret it – for
hard times were coming. Soon, I would sincerely wish I’d have
nourished myself when I had the chance. The moment that the food on
the counter would begin to rot would be the moment that there would
be no food for us at all. This death might have been difficult, but
the hardest times were still yet to come.

It was a relatively muggy
morning when the carriage pulled up in front of our shanty for the
first time. I hadn’t seen my father come out of his room but twice
in the last three days. I didn’t know what he was doing behind the
locked door – but I couldn’t hear a sound, not even a single
whimper.

As I looked out of
our kitchen window I could see the same 12
^th
caste boy lowering the old
woman’s wheel-chair from the cab. This time a younger woman exited
with her. She grabbed the hem of her dress and walked up the porch
steps, awkwardly forming a fist and tapping the side of the house
with gloved hands.

“Hello?” She called in an amusingly
proper accent. “Is anyone there?”

I cautiously peeked
out the mesh on the screen door. I could see that the younger one
wore a big-brimmed hat with a lacy veil that covered the top of her
face. Her dress was wildly expensive, and the bustle looked as if
it contained a weather balloon. The old woman was dressed
similarly, but more to her age. She sat in her chair at the bottom
of the steps – forcing the 12
^th
caste boy to hold a parasol
over her head to protect her skin from the
clouds.

“Elissa Celeste? Of the
McClellan’s?” The lacy woman uttered when she saw my face in the
door.

“That’s me…”

The woman let a deep
breath escape from her corseted chest. A weak smile appeared on her
face, seeming as though she must have felt she had felt some
long-lost treasure. The young woman’s demeanor still struck me as
cold and contained, but it was notably warmer than
Beeti’s.

“You do favor us,” she
faintly mused.

I still couldn’t see what on earth she
was talking about.

After a minute or two of silence, I
spoke up. “Excuse me, but who are you?”

“I’m your Aunt Wren.
You do have another aunt that you’ve seen. Her name is Beeti. She
was at the funeral, but she couldn’t be here today.” I connected
the name to the face immediately, unable to forget the complaining
woman at the gravesite. Wren continued. “This is your grandmother –
you might call her Grandmamma – Lady Abilene Deveraux. We’ve been
staying at the foreigner’s hotel in the 8
^th
Sector. There are many
things we have to discuss. May we come in?”

I looked at the people,
biting my lower lip to hide the fact that I was actually very
curious. Part of me truly did want to know them. The other part
could clearly feel the barriers that cut between our classes.
Despite my mixed feelings, I still didn’t see any harm in allowing
the two to come in.

“Yes, yes. Of course you can come in,”
I sighed, opening the door to Wren and showing Grandmamma to the
ground-level door out back.

As soon as they came into
the house I fell into a deep embarrassment. For the first time in
my life, I saw my home as the shack that it was in comparison to
their finery. The floor was falling part; something evident to
grandmamma as her wheels became stuck in between loose plywood.
Although my home was clearly dilapidated, neither of the women said
anything demeaning.

“Child, is this where you live?” My
grandmother gently posed. I nodded.

Suddenly, the door to the
back room was opened. For the first time in a number of days I saw
the begrudging silhouette of my father. I caught a glimpse of his
face and could immediately sense that his feelings were neither of
warmth nor welcome.

“Gaerwyn,” my grandmother spoke up as
soon as she saw my father approaching. “We were hoping to see you.
There are things that we must discuss now that Rose is gone. We
must discuss Elissa’s future.”

“Get out.” They were the only words he
wished to utter.

“If we should leave now, then when
should we discuss such matters? Please give me a good time.”
Grandmamma sternly approached once more.

“I’ll find a good
time for speakin’ with ya,” he told them angrily, his tone becoming
louder. “Now ain’t a proper one.
Leave
.”

“Mother, we should
probably go,” Wren whispered cautiously. Grandmamma ignored her
cowardice and waved her hand in the air as if the situation were no
more dangerous than swatting a fly.

“Nonsense. We shan’t let intimidation
drive us sour!” Grandmamma affirmed. “In any case, Gaerwyn, we will
leave your home as you request. Though, first I must inform you
that I have a proposal that mustn’t wait until a future meeting. If
only you would allow me to briefly explain, we might decide upon a
time to discuss it formally. Then, I will take my daughter back to
the carriage and leave.”

“Alright.…” Papa told them
after a few moments of contemplation. “I’ll only listen once. Then
you have to go.”

Both parties urged me to
leave the room. It was at that moment that I realized what this was
about – it was about my choice. No one dared utter a single word
until the entire room was certain that my door was shut and I was
absent from the conversation. It was a bit redundant considering
that I could still hear their conversation as if it was coming from
within my room itself.

“Thank you Gaerwyn.”
Grandmamma began. “We have come to discuss Elissa’s future in
society. Now that Rose is gone…it seems that there would be
financial difficulty on your part. I understand that in the
10
^th
caste it takes two or three working individuals to produce a
sufficient income. With Rose gone and Elissa unfit to work, there
is bound to be difficulty.”

“I needn’t be informed of things I’d
already be aware!”

“Of course, Gaerwyn. I’m
sure you’re well aware of every consequence of the death. Knowing
of your daughter’s ‘special,’ status…I only wanted to express to
you that in lieu of Rose’s death our family would be willing to
take Elissa into our home. We want to be of aid to you in any way
that we can.”

There was silence. Although the offer
had been made with honest intentions, the very mention of it caused
Papa the fieriest kind of seething. He refused to look at them for
a few moments, transforming into the most animistic kind of beast
that there could have been. In the silence, I cracked open my door
to look at what might have been conspiring on the other side. What
I saw and heard next wounded and scared me as deeply as a jagged
razor blade.

“Get out,” he
abruptly grunted through his teeth. “Elissa’s
my
daughter. We’ll not be in need of
any help on your part. I’ll do just fine providing for her with my
own wages! This is her choice – so you’d better not dare try to
sabotage it!” His tone soon became that of a true beast. “Get out
of my house, or you’re
dead
.”

Before he had even
finished the last word of his sentence, the
12
^th
caste boy hurried Grandmamma out the back door. Aunt Wren
followed closely behind. I emerged from my room in horror. Although
the women were gone, my father was not finished. He picked up a
large, heavy pole and ran out the front door just as the ladies had
finished getting into their carriage. Their driver quickly took the
reins and whipped his horses into drive.

“Stay out of our
business, you pretentious snakes!” Papa shouted at the carriage in
a beastly rage, falling onto his knees on the ground as it
disappeared from sight. “Elissa is
mine.
As long as I’ve got reason to
live, you can’t take her from me!”