Receive Me Falling (22 page)

           
“Are you okay, Meg?”

           
“I am.
 
This is just a lot to digest.
 
I need to think for awhile.”

           
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” said
Drew.

           
“No, no—knowing is best.”

           
After she hung up, Meg put down the
phone and watched the changing sky.
 
Knowing that she was descended from slave owners bothered Meg more than
she thought it would. She had been hoping that her father had acquired the land
on his own, but now saw that it had been passed down to her through her family
for generations.
 
  
  

Clouds were creeping over the sky from the west in
a dark shelf.
 
The wind was picking
up.
 
On her drive to the villa, Meg had
heard that a tropical depression was forming in the southeast.
 
She had heard the report when the sky was
clear, so she hadn’t thought much about it.
 
Now it was getting dark and Meg was getting concerned.
 
She flipped on the news, but the weatherman
just reiterated the radio report.
 
He thought
the depression would change course and head up to Florida,
but reminded residents and vacationers to stay tuned for evacuation
information.
 
He did mention that if the
storm changed course it wasn’t due to hit the island for another six days.

10

Strong
winds had entirely blown away the stench of the rat bonfire.
 
The dew made a moist blanket over the
grasses, palms, and flowers, enhancing the brilliant greens, purples, pinks,
reds and yellows of the vegetation.
 
Mist
hung low around the great mountain, blocking its summit from view, and the
distant waves of the Caribbean beckoned to the
island.

           
Esther walked a bit straighter that
morning at breakfast.
 
Cecil arrived
after Catherine and rambled incoherently.
 
Something he said, however, caught Catherine’s attention.

           
“There will be a ball this Friday at
the Bath Hotel. Many affluent and important people will be there.
 
I have made an appointment with the
dress-maker for you this afternoon, so I will join you later.”

           
Catherine found herself excited by
the prospect of a ball.
 
She longed for a
bit of socializing to escape her duties on the plantation.
 
She also found herself not unhappy at the
possibility of seeing the Silwells.
 

 
          
Friday
arrived and preparations were begun early for the ball at the Bath Hotel.
 
While her father attended the formal meeting
of the Council, Catherine allowed herself the pleasure of being doted upon to
prepare for the evening’s entertainment.
 
She had bathed the evening before, and her hair was set early.
 
Much fuss was made by Esther over the
difficulty of removing the ink and dirt from Catherine’s fingertips and nails,
but the black was eventually scrubbed clean.

     
     
The
dress arrived at
two o’clock
.
 
It was pale yellow and complemented her
hair.
 
Catherine grabbed a shawl as
covering in case of high winds, and paced around the house until five with
Esther scolding her every time she tried to start a chore that would dishevel
her appearance.
 

     
     
Thomas
was dressed in elegant livery as he chauffeured Cecil and Catherine to the Bath
Hotel.
  
As the carriage pulled away from
Eden, a
movement in a window on the second floor of the house caught Catherine’s
attention.
 
Leah gazed down at Catherine.
When their eyes met she turned away from the window.
  
Catherine looked down at her lap.

     
     
Since
Esther’s beating, Leah had become distant from Catherine.
 
She spoke little, could not be persuaded to
steal away for reading, and would scarcely meet Catherine’s gaze.
   

      
    
“What
could possibly be troubling so beautiful a specimen on such a fine evening?”
asked Cecil.

    
      
“It
is nothing, Father.”
  

    
      
“Do
not trouble yourself about Eden.
I am quite sure the plantation can do without you for one night.”

     
     
Catherine
smiled weakly at her father and then turned her face to the sea.
 
The rocking of the carriage was soothing and
soon quieted her nerves.
 
They moved down
the road, occasionally speaking to admire some pleasing sight, but mostly
sitting in the easy silence of old companions.
 
The road they traveled was high and divided the three largest island
plantations.
 
Though it was heavily
landscaped, glimpses of the various estates could be seen through the palms and
shrubbery.
 
It was a cool place to
travel, as the trees and vines had begun to form a natural canopy over the
hard, brown dirt.
 

    
      
Catherine
began to ruminate on how pleasing a journey it had been thus far and felt her
spirits lightening at the thought of the ball.
 
As she commenced humming a waltz, a low droning noise drifted up on the
breeze from a field below the road.
 
The
noise took on a frantic quality, and soon grew to an animal-like howl.
 

     
     
Thomas
slowed the carriage and the three of them looked through the palms to a field
on the Hall’s property where a slave woman wept and struggled to carry the
lifeless body of a young girl toward an overseer riding a brown horse.
 
The slave girl’s head hung facing the road,
and a thread of green bile could be seen running out of her sallow lips.
 
Her skin was ashen and sweat glossed over her
emaciated, half-naked body.
 

     
     
The
carriage had reached a stop, and Catherine looked on in horror as the overseer
used his riding crop to pry the dead girl from the woman’s arms and beat the
hysterical woman over the head until she returned to her place in the
cane.
 
Through the slits of her eyelids,
the dead girl’s eyes caught the sun and glistened at the onlookers.
 
Her body lay in a tangle by the cane until
the overseer instructed two slaves nearby to remove her body from the field.

     
     
Cecil
shouted at Thomas to continue onward and mumbled under his breath.
 
Catherine watched the miserable slave woman’s
agonized face as she worked the cane with sharp slices of her blade.
 
Her shoulders heaved and the sweat mingled
with her tears to produce a slick sheen on her face.
 
Gradually, a blank curtain settled over her
features.
 
Her eyes stared vacantly at
the crop, her mouth hung slightly open, her shoulders ceased to heave.

     
     
The
carriage rode away, and Catherine could feel a knot forming in her
stomach.
 
Of all the gruesome sights just
passed, it was the vacancy that took over the woman’s face so suddenly that
most terrified Catherine and refused to leave her mind.

The
Bath Hotel was a grand structure that towered over the verdant topography of
the island.
 
It provided a startling
contrast from the landscape with its geometric stone design, and fortress-like
appearance.
 
It loomed over Nevis, daring the tropical winds to disturb its place on
the hilltop.

     
     
Catherine
wished she could command the carriage home as it approached the Bath
Hotel.
 
Well-dressed men and women were
strolling through the gardens, and a line of carriages formed to deposit their
elegant passengers.
 
Cecil nodded at
arriving friends and neighbors while Catherine’s eyes swept her
surroundings.
 
As Catherine and Cecil
descended from their carriage, Edward Ewing came forward and grasped
Catherine’s hand to assist her down the stairs.
 
She noticed how handsome he looked and felt herself flush as she left
the carriage.
 

           
“Thank you, Mr. Ewing.”

    
      
“A
pleasure, Miss Dall.
 
I am thrilled to
see you were able to make it.”

     
     
“Is
your father here?” asked Cecil.

     
     
“He’s
just in the entrance hall,” said Edward.
 
“We only arrived a few short moments ago, sir.”
 

Edward began giving instructions to Thomas and his
slave as Catherine took her father’s arm and climbed the great staircase into
the foyer.
 
Though many greeted her as she
moved through the foyer, she found herself sullen and in no mood to
socialize.
 
Catherine longed to leave the
boisterous crowd, but knew she would have to endure the party for hours.

      
    
The
strains of a small orchestra quieted the assembly and beckoned them to an
enormous dining room blazing with hundreds of candles in shimmering
chandeliers.
 
Meats, seafood, fruits, and
vegetables adorned the gleaming silver serving platters, and a large group of
finely dressed slaves seated the guests.
 
Sparkling flames twisted and danced on the candles giving the room a
dream-like quality, and the crowd noise dissolved into a far-away murmur.
 

     
     
Catherine
felt lost and lightheaded.
 
The heat
pressed upon her and her vision blurred.
 
Her father talked and drank at her side, and the fumes from his
alcoholic breath were dizzying.
 
Feeling
as if she was about to faint, Catherine began to rise from her chair, but felt
a cool hand rest on hers.
 
She turned and
saw that James Silwell was taking his seat next to her, and his father, Albert,
had already found his chair across the table.

           
“Are you quite well?” asked James.

           
Catherine nodded as her head began
to clear.

           
“You looked as if you were about to
faint,” he said.

           
“I believe I was.
 
It’s oppressively hot in here.”

           
“I agree—though the paddle fans are
doing a bit to ease the temperature.”

           
Catherine turned and saw slave
children standing about the room waving large fans at the guests.
 
She stared at them, and then addressed James.

           
“How is your stay?
 
Are you making much progress?”

           
“Yes, thank you for inquiring.”

           
Catherine felt eyes boring into her,
and looked across the table at Albert.
 
He smiled and nodded at her.
 
Catherine felt a sudden surge of energy—as if she had been afloat at sea
for days and found a buoy just as her strength was failing her.

           
“I’m glad for that,” she said, and
began her dinner with renewed vigor.

After
the feast was cleared and the guests were escorted to a large room for
cocktails, James addressed Catherine: “Could I interest you in a stroll through
the gardens?
 
It will be some time before
the ballroom is ready for dancing, and the gardens at twilight are a stunning
sight to behold.”

           
“I’d love to.”
  

           
The golden warmth of sunset
dissolved into the cool stillness of nightfall.
   
Birds whispered and darted through the flowers
as James escorted Catherine through the winding, leafy paths.