H C Turk, page 49
"My dearest mother is in?" I asked while handing Delilah my cloak. "I must see her in desperation," and into the house I swept as though I owned the place.
"Well, uh, and yes, Miss Alba," Delilah replied, "but, er, no, she is resting now, and of course you understand."
"Of course, I understand that I should not bother you to wake the mistress, for the act shall be a pleasure of my own."
Flying up the stairs went I with the most ludicrous of haughty miens, nose and bent wrist poised precisely so as I strode to the Rathel's bedchamber, observing with removed glimpses that my army followed, one not of Africa though led by an exotic beast. Against the proper door I rapped to enter without acknowledgment, having the invading forces wait in the corridor for their leader.
Reclining on the bed, Rathel lifted one shoulder, attempting to awaken, attempting to ask, "What? What is . . . ?"
"Beg pardon, mistress, for this veritable intrusion, but a true emergency has thrown itself upon us."
"Alba, what do you speak of?" the Rathel demanded, finally awake and adequately aware.
"Currently outside your door are Miss Elsie and Master Eric, who shall prove themselves extant with only hallooing, having too much courtesy to be intruding as does your daughter." Then over my shoulder I called.
"Outside, there, are persons waiting?"
" Tis I, mistress," Elsie squeaked.
"The best wishes for you, ma'am," Eric followed with scarcely more certainty.
Rathel then looked toward me with fierce interest as I continued.
"We three have come from our lovely abode wherein we shall live once wed. The reason for our flight was Edward Denton's having come there in distress, unfortunately finding it necessary to dismiss son Eric from the family business. Therefore, no wedding shall occur because no funds exist for us to affix the flat as legally let. My presumption being that nothing in this world-nor any other you own-would please your kindness more than to see the daughter wed this incomparable, incontrovertible lad, might you make arrangements for a bit of a loan before we starve?"
Through all the flurrying words, Rathel most clearly comprehended that the father was so distraught as to have chucked his very son. Expert in emotion was the mistress to conceal her inner gloating.
"Why, dear Alba, all along I've intended to set you well financially. Do you believe the only dowry I would provide you is Miss Elsie?" And, yes, the Rathel then laughed-how polite, how ladylike!-and along with her I tittered until her farther speaking. "No difficulties so inconsequential as funds shall be allowed when grand love is available."
Then I rejected my silly smile, stepping beside the bed so that only Rathel would hear my following words. Seeing my face change, so did hers; and in that moment in which I neared, she searched me and waited, for much waiting can transpire in a moment that threatens loss.
"Another thing, mistress, with no humor. I think it best this male and I be wed without extravagant ceremony, for this is a process, and the more we proceed, the more interference shall we find. I suggest that your arrangements be for a simple, immediate ritual. Can you comply?"
"I can and will, if the boy agrees to such haste and simplicity."
"Do your part with the ceremony as I go now for mine."
I retained that grave visage upon quitting the chamber. Closing the door behind, I spoke to Elsie.
"Be relieved, miss, and be comfortable because your life of the future shall be as the near past so pleasantly offered. And since no more traveling will you accomplish today, go about your internal affairs while I speak with this male outside in some privacy."
"Oh, and praising Jesus I am, miss, in that I did so much wish to be part of your home."
"You know my feelings to be identical, Elsie, and praise God for your sweet nature. Now, off we are for a time, and if I vanish from the grounds, the fault will not be yours."
Before Elsie could transform herself from friend to chaperone, I grasped Eric's cuff and led him outdoors.
"We are conversing again, miss, and alone?" he wondered.
"We shall be alone, true," I intoned, and Eric sensed my changed manner. "Call us a carriage, sir, and we're off."
"Destination, miss?"
"To a place you have never been, not even in your dreams."
An utter stranger would have sensed my distress. What a mistake, I thought, to allow Eric t
This sinner was staring at me as I remained abjectly still, hand on my brow as though to shield myself. I could not accept his ease. No fool was he for not fearing the water-in this relationship, I had the excess emotion. Then I had to look toward him, for was he not my only sanctity?
"Sir, I fear bridges as any person living fears an upcoming death," I said, then moved to him, remaining low and compact to minimize the risk of being thrown out, into the water, off the bridge, toward death. I moved against him as though a spider in a corner,' and spoke again.
"Sir, you will hold me with your arm and no passion, the object to reduce these passions of mine."
And he did, Eric placed both arms about me to draw me near. Throughout him rushed emotions I could sense with only our mutual touch, a vibration of his body that told me, yes, I will secure you and love any strength I may impart, and aid us both in this shared embrace. And though crossing that bridge remained a sort of terror, for one of us it became a type of joy.
No persons were at Gravesbury Reach, none within smell or sight. Upon our arrival, I instructed the coachman to be off yet return in an hour, and Jesus bear witness that he keep his observations to himself.
Christ's Cathedral I viewed, the edifice so removed as to seem average in size; but was this a building constructed or demolished? It seemed such a piecemeal thing, a collection of parts. So I looked away, for in London was more life than this stone pile, and life remained a mystery. I looked away, and listened. Far, far down the river came a massive sound. Nearer to me was Eric, Eric speaking, questioning. But I held out my hand for him to cease, for I had turned toward that sound, and here was my effort, my interest. Huge barges were against the bank, along the opposing side, but too far for clear sight. And though here my best sense was hearing, I could not determine that rhythmic sound, the source of a thudding to cover the Thames.
"What product do they unload, sir, so massive as to sound greatly upon the docks, yet not be ruined by coarse dropping?"
"I cannot guess, miss, and cannot care, for surely you've not brought me here to experience the silence that these boatmen disturb."
"I have not, sir, no; this is but distraction. My purpose here is swimming." And quickly I turned to Eric. "Can you, Master Eric?"
"Can I swim, miss? You ask whether I can swim?"
"I do, and a simple query."
"Why, yes, I am able, enough to save myself if found in the water, though I could not be placed in competition."
"I cannot," I said, and looked away, again toward that sound.
"You cannot, miss? You cannot. . . ?"
"I cannot swim. No witch can swim, this being a trait to separate us from sinners."
"Dear God, Alba, do not go mad on me now, not when again I am so near to wedding you."
"Oh, and wed me you shall, sir, but not easily. First you must prove your love-not to me, but to yourself. Then the madness shall be yours."
Then I stepped near him, looking to his eyes so that he could see nothing but me; but, truly, from the first his only vision was mine.
"And how do you love me, sir?"
"How? I love you absolutely, Alba. I love you-"
"Enough to pledge your soul?"
"My soul? Alba, I cannot understand you. Your manner in this moment is-"
"This moment is your life," I stated loudly. "Nothing in all your prior existence is more important than this moment. You must ignore your confusion at my strange words and listen to each, for they have meaning. Understand the importance of this instant and tell me: Do you love me enough to pledge your immortal soul on the emotion?"
"God help me, miss, I do."
"You will require God's aid in the next era I present you, sir, for by your endless soul you must pledge me a thing."
"Miss Alba, I yet recall previous vows you forced upon me."
"From them you should have learned to trust me to improve our mutual understanding, and again I demand that trust. Now, think carefully, and be concerned with your future, not mine. I depart for a time, but will return. I-"
"You go where?"
And I leapt to grasp his arm and shout directly at his head.
"I go to scream in your ear, sir, if you cannot listen to my simple words!"
The force of my shouting was such that Eric had to jerk away from me. When we both had settled, I continued.
"I depart, sir, and promise no one will be harmed, though it may seem otherwise. Therefore, I will have you pledge on your immortal soul not to come for me, not to interfere in any manner, though one will soon become evident. You must understand that though I leave, I return briefly and unharmed. As you wait, however, the thought shall come that I die, that I must be dying, but I do not. And with God as my love and my witness, I swear that only your emotions will be pained, not my bodily health. Do you understand this, sir?"
"I do not, of course I do not understand, no matter how carefully I consider your words. But as I love you as much as my soul, I do pledge to fulfill your wishes, and wait for you without attempting to follow."
"Very well," I concluded, and stepped away, kneeling to unfasten my shoes. "Your heart must retain the vow, and your mind the recollection of my promise that no harm will come to me, only distress to your senses."
"Why, miss, do you remove your shoes?"
"Elsie would be most upset to see me soaked with water, for she would understand the deed presented, in that years ago I offered her this very demonstration."
Off with the cloak, then to the gown, my hands behind to the closures.
"What demonstration, miss? What precisely are you showing?"
But he knew, knew I was revealing body; and his breaths were strange, his stance doubtful, though none of that man smell could come, not through his apprehension, not through his knowledge that a certain part of my body would never be seen, for it was missing.
"Incidentally I reveal what eventually you must see as a husband, for Satan knows we shall be wed," and from my gown I stepped. "But moreover I reveal yourself as a fool, fool enough to allow your own death were it not for my salvation." With those words, I lowered my vapid underthing, lowered the fabric that had covered my skin no longer so white in places, lowered the garment to reveal my half bosom, half disaster.
Eric was not breathing. No tears nor screaming came, and neither did that bottom odor. Not even when the remainder of my apparel fell, and all of his wife was revealed. Never would he likely see me so clearly again, in the open day with all of God's light and space surrounding me, white light for my ambience, white apparel as my base, white skin the center of Eric's world. Now to show the devil's black reveal.
"I go to swim, sir, and since I cannot, you will panic. But recall your vow, recall your immortal soul." And I moved into the river.
"Alba?" he called out behind me, his sound an expression, not a name, a conveyance of consequence.
I lodged myself in that water before entering. Warm it was, but I felt nothing of this river nor those past, and this was my intent: not to allow the waters of my dreams to drown me when real water never had; for with each crossing the water became more murderous, and I more fearful. And I knew that dream and reality would one day meet, the conjoined water finding me on its bottom to crush me softly with fluid.
All my thoughts were on the process: open my mouth and allow the water in. And I began, this wet acceptance not yet a terror, eyes closed, slow movements. But I refrained from allowing the water's air to mingle with the remaining air of my lungs. Fearful comprehension had struck me, the knowledge that breathing air is life continued, but breathing water is death postponed; and how long can a person save herself? Through how many rivers, how many dreams?
The striking act needed to driv#away my panic was the acceptance of wet air within me. At once I felt drowning, but also air, for so long had I retained the old breath that the new, wet one was sustaining. I found myself alive, though barely, surviving more than living. So I determined not to move about as I had with Elsie, remaining stationary to thereby require less air. Standing still on that unexamined river bottom, I began emulating an era by imagining walking up the Rathel's stairs and down, through the kitchen and corridor, into the garden and about the house, through the gate and around, into the foyer and great room to the library, always breathing, always needing to concentrate on that unnatural fluid as I stepped along the street with Eric, understanding that I breathed water and was able to do so, though barely, though I could lose this survival with a lack of effort, the slightest allowance of panic, the briefest thought of seeking true air, true breathing, true life, as I entered my bedchamber to find Eric at the window.
Eric underwater was thrashing and bubbling, and finally grasping me. I pushed away from him to step quickly toward the bank and out before I lost my calm. As I stood upright, Eric quit the river to thrash on land as though he were yet submerged.
So sharp and rich is the air of the sky that upon leaving the water, a witch must breathe slowly and with calmness, lest she pass out as though drowning on air. I thus appeared the opposite of Eric, who was gasping for breath. Then I had to yawn, for Eric had been drowning and needed recovery; whereas I had been breathing as though asleep.
"Is your soul as worthless as your life to so abandon both?" I confronted him. "Is your love equally impoverished?"
Wiping the water from his face as he supported himself on one elbow, no longer refraining from staring at his woman, Eric replied.
"My love is enough to provide me with reason for failing a vow. You are not God to have control of my soul; so no failure on my part will have me lose it on your account-you've not the power. But, God tell me, Alba, what power is yours to go without breathing?"
"But, sir, being only human, I was breathing through necessity."
"Are you a fish?"
"Continue your verse, poor poet, and find in time the rhyme, for I am no fish, but a witch."
"Jesus help me, woman-what are you saying?"
"I am speaking the whole truth, whereas before you heard but a portion. The Rathel has known of me from the first, and brought me to London in order for you to die, for few men can resist the white witch if she applies herself toward them. The Rathel's intended vengeance on your father was not your marriage into her family, but your death on our wedding bed, for I am the white witch who kills men with sex."
Though breath was no problem, Eric appeared drowned and unable to recover as he spoke.
"My God, Alba, you have gone mad! You speak of dreams."
"No dream allowed me to breathe those many minutes you observed. None of my life's terrors have been dreams, not even the last told by your father, for well he learned. His speaking of the men killed in Lucansbludge and London was most accurate, for both males died by me, though I murdered neither."
"You assert that these men you killed? You could not murder-how could a miss my wife ever-"
"With me they had the marital intercourse, though I was so devastated that only afterward did I learn the truth of Satan within me. The second man raped me through a lust worse than yours and thereby died. The first act you correctly heard described at the time: This Percival's manhood was cut away from him and thus he bled to death. With both men, this was true."
"You cut two men to death?" incredulous Eric groaned. "I am to believe that you knifed two men and-"
"I knifed no one, sir, for I am the sex witch, not a butcher of swine. I did not cut the men-I fucked them to death, and my vagina is such as to have pinched their pricks off as a child pulls away the wings of flies. But the difference is moral, sir, and immortal. The child has the power to cease his act, yet accepts the initiative of intention; whereas I have neither. Never would I choose to kill a male in any manner, yet when the marital act begins, I have no control, only torture of my own. Therefore, sir, do you not care to fuck me? Previously I have promised the husband my cunt."
I sat upon my backside, settling on my gown with legs spread, leaning backward with my weight on my hands, knees upward.
Tve another wound for you to view, sir, one you've dreamed of long, I know."
I could smell his man fumes now, though Eric seemed not excited but devastated, leaning on his elbow as he stared at me-my face and lower, much lower-with that same appearance of having drowned.
"There's been enough waiting by you and the Lady Rathel, Eric. And I think her correct. I think you can resist me never, not even aware of my murders. You call this love, but perhaps it's only lust, no more than sin. Now come to the wife and foretell the marriage. Come to the witch and see if you can live with her."
I told him to approach me and lower his pants. And he did, moving as though walking in his sleep, walking underwater. Step to me he did and unclothe himself, revealing his lust, his demon; and was that man stick held before him more of a sword or a cross?
"On your knees and well spread your legs," I instructed, for I had become expert in taking men. Eric complied. As he knelt before me, flat upon my back I lay, knees well up and above my hips. But when Eric placed his reddish glans against my vagina, I reached down to grasp the shaft in my hand and guide him toward perversion, Eric removed from death by a bit of flesh, separated from a demon by a segment of God's profound space.
