Three Rivers Rising (5 page)

I prepare to knock on Estrella’s door
but it is not latched.
It creaks open.
I see only hunched shoulders and a glimpse of skirts
disappearing behind a door across the room.

Mother looks up from the sitting area by the fireplace.
Her eyes are swollen
and a puffy red rash travels around her face and neck,
like continents shifting.
I am moved by her sadness to see me go.
I go to her side to comfort her.

Mimsy turns from the fire,
her wrist draped across the mantel.
She looks at me
but her face remains impassive.
Doors slam.
Servants and maids
flurry and fuss
with trunks and baskets.
My trunk is not among them.

“Take this note to the groundskeeper’s office.
Have Mr. Givens dispatch it
to your father at once.” Mother presses
a hastily folded slip of her crisp lavender stationery
into my shaking hand.
Mother is still,
compact in her chair,
bobbing on waves of commotion.

“What is happening?” I search their faces.
Mimsy looks away and busies herself with a hatbox.
“We need your father.” Mother rotates her handkerchief,
searching for a dry spot. “He must come in from the hunt.”
“Is someone ill? Did someone die?”
“Not dead,
yet we shall never see her again.” Mother dabs her eyes.

“An unspeakable harm has been done to this family”—
Mimsy narrows her eyes—
“and we need your father’s guidance to set it right.”
“Though I fear nothing will ever be right again!” says Mother,
shaking into sobs.
Mimsy pats her shoulder.

“Estrella?” I look toward the far door.
Mother can only hold her hand to her mouth and nod.

Estrella’s eyes are dark,
her cheeks flushed and splotchy.
She grabs my hands
and pulls me down next to her on the bed.
I see that she is frightened, too,
trying to be brave for me. “Celestia, my angel, you are so dear”—
“What happened?”
“I am afraid that my brilliant future has been abruptly cut short.”
“Are you…dying?”
“They may act as if I were dead
or worse, as if I were never born,
but you will always know the truth.”
“What is it?”
“I trusted the wrong person. That was my undoing.”
“Undoing?” I shake my head.

“It was a man. Not Charles. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think so…. No.”
“I thought I loved him. Maybe I still do, unworthiness aside.”
“So you could just marry him instead.”
Estrella drops my hands and turns away.
“Contrary to his every word and deed when we were alone,
he now swears he does not love me,
nor does he consider me an advantageous match.”
“But everyone loves you!” I surprise myself by shouting.

“He will not marry me.
He has ruined me
and now will not have me
because
I am ruined”—
she looks into my eyes—
“Do you see, my dear child, how men can do this?
No one tells us this, so I am telling you plainly.
You must be very careful.”

“Father will make him marry you! He must!”
“This man is too powerful—
he
would destroy
Father
instead.
Besides, now that I see this man
for the loathsome serpent he is,
I would sooner cut out my own heart
than marry him.
Father will send me away.
My things are packed.”
Estrella sighs and runs a finger over her bracelets.

“Only for a short while, right?
We will keep it a secret.
You will not be disowned if no one finds out.”
“Some secrets do not keep.
It is already done, Celestia.
I am finished …
in society …
and in this family.”
“That cannot be true.” Panic rises in my throat, strangling.

“Listen well,
they will say that I am bad,
and try to turn you against me.
But you will remember
that I only made a bad choice,
a mistake,
and when the time came
to pay the price
with my freedom,
I did so willingly
to spare my family.

And you will remember
that I love you always, dearest Celestia.”
“I will not let you go!” I cling to her.

She withers and
looks down at her hands
as if they held some answer. “Go now.
My train will not wait.”
I cannot stop shaking my head.
“No! No! No!”—more sob than speech.
Mother and Mimsy pull me away.
I am an angry child—
hot helpless tears,
stamping
and struggling.

I do not want to be brave.

Wallpaper roses loom and spin.
Mother’s little note is crumpled and damp in my grasp.
Mimsy follows me into the hall,
whispers, “If I can fix this,
I will”—her eyes are wide,
and a bit frightening—
“but I need
time
.
If word gets out,
then it is too late for Estrella.”
“Isn’t it already too late?
Her bags are packed.
They’re sending her away!”

“These are the rules, Celestia:
Your parents must begin the shunning.
If others learn of Estrella’s indiscretion,
and she has not been properly disowned,
then our entire family
is ruined,
including your father’s business.”

“And if she
is
properly disowned…?”
“Damage to the family is…tolerable.”
Mimsy grimaces. “But Estrella will be lost to us forever.
The limb will be sacrificed
to save the tree, you see.”

“But what if others
do not
learn…?”

The corners of Mimsy’s mouth twitch
in the beginning of a crafty smile.
“Now you are seeing it my way!
Tell people she has gone abroad,
on holiday,
to act as companion to her withering old auntie!
Tell them anything—
just give me time
to see if I have one last miracle
up my sleeve
before her condition becomes …
obvious.”

“Do you understand?” Mimsy shakes me a little,
as my mind has gone quite numb,
but I nod.
I need to draw a clear breath
outside.

Thoughts whirl as I descend the stair—
Disowning
.
Never speaking Estrella’s name
.
Never having contact
in person
,
or even letters
.
Acting as if she were never born
.
Severing the limb
before it kills the tree?
I would gladly wear rags
and eat crusts
if I could just keep my sister—
and I rip open the front door.

Wind barrels down the mountain slope
and hits me in the chest.
Air current so swift,
I cannot get a full breath from it.
I run or stumble as best I can,
shoulder against the wind,
across the gray planks of the boardwalk
and up to the stables.

The tack room air is dark and cool.
It appears very still
save for a tumult of dust in a sliver of sunshine.
I listen for Mr. Givens—
he has one footstep
and one drag,
courtesy of a Rebel cannonball.

“The hunting party is up past the Unger place.
I can’t ride in this wind.” Givens taps his wooden leg with his cane.
“I will go.”
“You don’t know the park. You’ll get lost.”
“I know it well enough.”

His eyes narrow,
he nods to himself,
perhaps recalling a rumor
about one of the guests traipsing about
with the help.

Givens glances toward his horse,
tethered to a post. “Skylark’s no tea party pony.
This here’s a powerful animal. You ride at all?”

In answer, I jump one foot into the stirrup,
gather my skirts,
and spring up into the saddle.
Skylark skitters slightly
until we get acquainted.
I grab the reins and raise my chin to Givens.
He shrugs and unties the horse.

We take on speed.
Mud spatters everywhere
and my legs are exposed.
The wind carries Givens’s voice: “Mind you don’t get shot.”
We race across the dam
and into the woods.

Peter

Thought I’d seen it all:
sailboats on the mountain,
a debutante gutting a walleye,
but the ground shifts under me
when I see Celestia—
barelegged,
caked in mud—
tearing across the dam on Skylark.

I thought I’d never see her again
after our goodbye,
but now I know
something’s changed,
and everything’ll be different after this …
but how?

Celestia

“Father! Father!”
I shout as I near the bend
so the hunters know to cease shooting.
A lump in my throat interrupts my cry.
I try to shift the lavender paper,
to make out the words,
but wind whips stinging tears from my eyes
and Skylark is moving too fast.

Father does not even know what is wrong yet
but I want desperately to be reassured.
I want him to chuckle
and rest his hand on my head
and say, “It is nothing that cannot be fixed,”
the way he did when I was little,
not like the father who threatened to disown me
just days ago.

The horse bounds up a rocky path now
and I shout when I can get my breath.
Finally the hunting party steps into the path before us.
My father and five other men.
Father looks alarmed
to see me.

“Is anyone ill?” Father squints up at me.
The other men exchange glances
and take a step back.
One epidemic after another has visited in recent years—
diphtheria,
cholera,
tuberculosis.
Any mention of illness
spurs people to flee,
whether it be
ghosts
or contagion itself.

I try to respond
but my throat is tightening uncontrollably.
Father hands his gun to the nearest hunter. “Gentlemen …”
I lower myself
and hold the reins out to him.
Father walks me a few paces
away from the men.
He reads the note
and hands it back to me.
“Destroy this,” he whispers.

I conceal the paper in my dress waist
while Father mounts Skylark.
His face reveals nothing—
he is already looking ahead
down the trail—
and I follow suit.

Ten eyes stare at me,
perhaps expecting an explanation.
I simply nod
and pick my way
through the rocks and roots
on the craggy path home.
“Miss…will you get back okay?” a voice calls.
I just wave.

Later I sneak a look back.
The hunters are blending into the forest,
silent
waves
of greens and browns
in the leaves and branches.
Finally I can retrieve the note:

     
Estrella ruined!
     Come at once!
     —
Mildred