Chapter Twenty-Five
These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends
Spencer and Derek had received permission from Mammy to analyze the house. They went though all the upstairs rooms (with the exception of Melanie's and Victoria's. "That ain't fittin'!" Mammy had cried.) and were onto the downstairs.
They came upon the locked door-Melanie's father's office.
"How do we-" Reid felt along the top of the door frame until he found a rusted, dusty skeleton key. Derek smiled. Reid thrust it into the hole and turned the knob and they were in.
The office was a dark brownish-grey in color, but it seemed so much darker. The curtains were closed and their were bookshelves lining most of the room, filled to the brim with philosophy and classics. A pair of reading glasses sat on the large wood desk. There was a leather wheeled chair at it, cracked and worn. A rug in the middle, big enough to fit a person in. It was matted in the middle and flat while the rest was still clean. There was a piece of folded paper on the desk with a child like drawing on the front of a flower. A red rose with briar curling around it. Cryptic for such a ill drawing obviously drawn by someone so young. Morgan opened the inside and there was a drawing of a man. They child didn't bother coloring his skin peach, and left it the white grey of the paper. The man had blue eyes and the child had drawn the wrinkles that showed along with the with smile on his face. His hair was a slick bronze-copper but had a tinge of black along with the red brown.
"Happy Birthday...errr...How do you-?"
"It says 'Abba'," Reid said."She called him Abba. It means father but translates to-"
"Daddy."
Reid and Morgan whipped around at the voice from the door frame. Melanie leaned against it, her eyes burning with anger and betrayal. She stalked forward and stole the card from Derek's hands and placed it where the dust showed it had been.
"I don't know how you got in here but I want you out. Now. This office hasn't been disturbed for seven years and I'd like to keep it that way." When Reid stood staring at the floor Melanie yelled again. "Out!"
"How many nights did you sleep here?" he asked.
Melanie stared with slits. "What?" she whispered. Reid pointed to the rug where the fabric was smashed and matted. "You layed there. How long? How many nights did you cry without leaving this room?"
Melanie stared without seeing at a spot on the wall. There was nothing there.
"It still smells like him...in here...Everything does....Please...just...just go..." Reid handed Melanie the extra key and she smiled lifelessly.
"Of course he would..." her voice trailed off. Reid shut the door behind him, so no one would see the tears streaming down Melanie's face.
***
Derek and Reid walked into the living room where Mammy was sitting out tea for her Mistress.
"Ah, boys," Dresella greeted them. "How lovely to see the two of you again!" she smiled. There was something about Mrs. Wilkes that made Reid feel like he was drowning in ice water. Her gold hair that was brittle and hay like or her brown eyes so dark they were almost black. Or the smile that never held any meaning. This woman failed to love the best daughter a woman could have. That's what chilled his bones the most, knowing what this woman had done to Melly. The original Melanie Wilkes was an orphan. Melanie was that in some sense, but mostly she was only Cinderella without a happy ending.
Victoria came down the stairs, smiling from ear to ear. Her copper unruly hair was pulled back in a braid. Her parasol was slung lazily over her shoulder as she hummed (horribly).
"It's going to happen today, Mother," Victoria smiled. "I just know he's going to call on me today!"
"Of course Victoria," Dresella said, pinching her favorite daughter's cheek. "Mr. Kennedy is a fine choice too. Just make sure he doesn't take his time for asking for your hand like the Comte Dufour did. You'll end up an old maid, like Melly."
"Oh, Mother!" Victoria snorted,"Melly's not an old maid! She's engaged! And to a Comte. Oh, how I wish a Comte would fall in love with me," she sighed.
"Nonsense," Dresella said. "Mr. Kennedy's got a nice store down in Atlanta and he's got a side lumber, too. It'll be fine, darling. You'll be twenty times as rich as Melly if he keeps it up!"
"But Melly gets to be a Vicomtesse," she frowned. "French royalty!...."
"She won't have any say in the government," Dresella said. "The French are a democratic nation. Phillip will be an ambassador, like you're father," Dresella said.
"I'm going to retire for the morning, Mammy," Dresella sighed. "Wake when lunch is ready. I shall have it in my room."
"Yes'm, Mrs. Dresella."
"Mammy?" Reid asked when the nursemaid returned.
"Yes'm, Docta Reid?"
"I was...just wondering if...well, if you would tell us how Mr. Wilkes died."
Mammy's face darkened, and scared Reid immensely.
"It's a dark and sad story, Docta. Too dark to be tellin'."
"Go on, Mammy," Charlie said, Aggie's hand in his as they entered the room.
"Yes, Mammy," Melanie whispered, coming into the room. "But, remember," she whispered, turning to leave again,"These violent delights, have violent ends."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Melanie laughed as Charlie tickled her from behind at the pianoforte, her blonde hair was flimsy, and didn't stay curled for long, so it was only wavy with a red silk ribbon in her hair and a matching dress. Black tights clung to her pale legs and she wore red shoes, a joke she and her father shared about the Hans Anderson story.
"Can't play now, can you?" Charlie sang as he tickled his 12 year old sister.
"Charlie!" she giggled as her hands pressed random keys. "Stop it!"
"Not until you say uncle!" he said.
"Never!" Melanie turned and pounced on her older brother. Melanie tickled his sides as he rolled and rolled, laughing hysterically.
"Will you two stop it?!" Dresella cried, 8 year old Victoria in her arms. It was late in December, and it was raining and snowing with a storm outside. Lightning struck again and Victoria screamed. Dresella covered her ears and Victoria fell to the floor. Melanie picked up the screaming girl.
"Want me to put you to bed?" Victoria nodded several times, her pink gown shimmering in the candle light as Melanie picked her up.
Melanie turned on a little CD of music and plugged in three nightlights before giving her sister a kiss and leaving the room. Dresella, in a fusha turtle neck and high-rise slacks, sighed loudly. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail with curls at the end. She had her phone in her hand, waiting for her husband to call.
"Miss Melly, you go practice the pianoforte some mo',"Mammy yelled. "And Mista Charlie, your Papa is gonna beat you if you don't get him in one gamma chess. Go practice."
"Aw, do I hafta? It's no fun when there's no one to play with."
"Come play the piano with me, Charlie!" Melly cried.
"No, Masta Charlie hasta play his chess."
Melanie frowned. She let her cat, Descartes, come slip up onto her lap as Melanie began to play the piece again. The song her father had given her to learn was sad and deep and made her want to run and cry and never stop. She wanted her father to hold her right now and she would cry and feel loved. The music cried into her blood and she smiled at her emotion. This is what music would always be to her. Love. Fear. Escape. Safety. Softness. Memories.
The music was laced with longing and desire and Melanie closed her eyes and she didn't feel any others on her, though they were all watching as Melanie slipped into another world. Her mother, thinking how odd she was, like her father. Her brother so proud. Mammy so mesmerized.
The phone rang and interrupted her and Melanie jumped to her feet.
"Rene?" Dresella asked into the phone. "Thank God, when are you-?"
"Abba! Abba!" Melanie jumping up and down.
"Shut-"
"Is that my little song bird I hear?" Melanie could hear her father's voice from where she was standing. Dresella again asked her question but Rene Wilkes demanded to talk to his daughter.
"Abba," Melanie sighed.
"How's my dove?"
"Better now, Papa," she said, smiling. "I've been playing all night, just like I promised!"
"Good girl! Tell you what, baby doll, I'll be home real soon and why don't you play and when I get home, the first thing I'll hear is my song bird playing her music."
"Okay, Abba!"
"Melly!" Rene cried, as Melanie pulled the phone away.
"Yes, Papa?"
"...I love you."
"I love you, too." Melanie said, smiling. Rene pictured that in his mind and he sighed.
"Be good, little dove. Be good."
When Melanie handed the phone to her mother, Rene was gone. Dresella sighed and returned to the dining room, where she would sit for the next few hours with her head in her hands.
Melanie returned to the piano and played.
And played.
And played.
Melanie Wilkes would play all night till two o'clock in the morning, until the door opened. Melanie bit on her lips to hold the smile and when she turned to see the two sad looking cops whispering to her mother and Mammy. Melanie watched as all she heard was the music ringing in her ears as her mother fell to the ground and Mammy's head whipping to see the young girl playing the piano.
"Stop playing..." Dresella had whispered. Melanie didn't hear her mother, she just stared at the police, her face distorted with what she knew had happened, her fingers still typing along the keys.
"Stop it..." Dresella whispered. "Stop!!" she had flown into a rage and everything seemed to slow down for Melanie. Her mother trying to violently rip her from the piano, Melanie screaming.
"Daddy's not home yet! I promised! I promised!!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face as she screamed. Charlie stared from his corner in the room, without seeing. One tear fell for his father, the other four fell for his sister and how her world was falling apart.
"He's not home yet!! I promised!!" Melanie tried to glue her fingers back but she stared messing up and couldn't do it anymore, she couldn't see out of her eyes. Dresella threw her across the room, the police tried to stop her as Dresella fell the floor and Melanie ran to her father's office, only to collapse in the little fluffy maroon rug in the floor.
The music ringing in her ears, she didn't dream those nights in there. She had hallucinations where she was floating in and out of consciousness, where her father would pick her up and hold her, but then she would breathe again and find it false. He would never hold his daughter again. Never see her fall in love or hold her first child. Never walk her down the isle. He wouldn't see her graduate high school or get her first kiss. He would hold her and never let her cry the way he did. She wouldn't ever hear some one refer to her as song bird or little dove. She couldn't stop crying, she didn't think she ever would.
Her throat and lungs hurt and she was falling apart physically as well as mentally and she wouldn't stop sobbing. As long as she loved her father, there would not be a day she wouldn't sob for him. Wouldn't be a day she wanted to scream or kill herself. Wouldn't be a day where she would wish she was dead so he could hold her.
She would never hear his voice again. Never hear him telling her how to play the pianoforte the way he always wanted.
One of the last days she was in the room, she finally remembered his last words to her.
"Be good little dove, be good..."
"I promise, Papa...I'll always be good."
Charlie and Melanie had both broken their promises.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Three whole days that chile stayed in that room. I walked in while she was half-asleep sometimes, and bring her food. She never touched it. I ain't never seen that child so depressed as I did when I seen her walk out that third day. She just wanted to die. You could see it, the way her blue eyes went cold and her skin was so pale and her heart just hardened. That girl wasn't gonna let anyone in for a while. Mista Phillip was really a blessin'. He brought back parta Miss Melly. I don't 'spect we'll ever really have her whole again. Not like she was. Po Miss Melly. I can't imagine what it was like. Charlie was big enough and Victoria was to young to understand. Dresella's never really changed, 'cept bein' more distant, but Melly...her whole world came down. She tol' me once that she was gonna find a way to see him again. That look in her eye....I ain't never been so afraid of anyone 'cept when I saw that look in her eye. I thought that po' girl done lost her mind," Mammy started crying. "I nursed a lotta chilin's, but Melly hadda be the best. And then this happens to her. I always thought God was vengeful, but that girl didn't deserve any of what she's getting. No, sir..."
***
Melanie sat in her father's leather chair, pressing her nose against it.
"It smells like you, Abba..." she whispered. She could she his finger prints on the wood. She smiled, careful not to touch them.
She opened his desk and found the letter he left for her. She remembered coming out of the room on the third day and they were working on father's will, and he had left Melanie a letter. She'd read it a thousand times, but not in six or so years now. Maybe she could gather some meaning now she didn't then. She sighed and held in the tears as she unfold the letter.
Dear Melanie,
Right now, I am sitting at my desk and you are in the floor behind me, playing with Descartes. It's actually rather late and I'm quite sure you lied to me when you said you had a nightmare. When you have nightmares, you cry and get too scared to come out of bed and I have to get you. But I am glad to have your company.
This is the fifth time I've written this letter. I try to make it deeper and easier for you to understand as the both of us get older and I get closer to leaving you. I apologize for you reading this now, because I know you must be so young. I pray you're not reading this.
There is a blob of ink on the period, where he held his pen there to long. She smiles as she runs a finger over it.
You're just to funny, little dove. Too sweet and too kind. I'd like to take this moment to say how proud I am of you. Not just because you're beautiful. You're beautiful on the inside and out. You care about people and things no one else cares about. You're every thing I imagined having a daughter would be like and more.
I want to keep writing, to keep listing your perfections, but all I can say now is how proud I am and always will be of you. Stay good. Stay pure. Stay safe. That's all I can ask, darling.
Keep singing, little dove.
I will always love you.
Your Abba.
Melanie wiped her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I love you...so much..."
I just want to let you know I've spent most of the day listening to Alexandre Desplat songs (such an amazing composer, so beautiful). I've gone back and forth on a lot of songs, but I ended up going with this.
The song Melanie plays non stop in the flash back is Alexandre Desplat's 'Dreamcatcher'. Better known as one of the Jacob themes from New Moon. So, there you go.
I originally planned it to be 'Lily's Theme' from The Deathly Hallows, but decided against it.
Go listen to it while reading this some time!
-MEG
No comments:
Post a Comment