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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 102: Brown 318
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Takano 116
Having just given Mister Hunter the green light to pull him into a painful lesson in a dream-like world, Derek saw that world begin changing. The ground fell away below him, and like the Apostle Paul he was not sure if he was in his body or just a spirit. Black earth overturned by some colossal force met his falling feet. Pits here, and there, and everywhere greeted his eyes. In the distance, under a perfect pale blue sky, a farmhouse burned. The air hung thick with the smell of gunpowder, blood, and death. He fell away again, and came to land in a dark wood.
He heard the high scream of a woman. Without thinking, he ran that way. It was difficult; the woods were dark, and the moon was not out. Many vines barred his path, some seeming to do so on purpose, but he pushed on, growing to hate this wood because he could feel its evil nature.
“No! Please!” The feminine cry was followed by a sound like a hammer hitting meat, a dull smack.
A cruel, deep voice of a man spoke.
“That will teach you.” A deep thump came afterwards, and Derek tried to shift to sprite but could not. The very air pushed him back, but he pushed on even as he seemed to hear imploring whispers begging him to go back to sleep. Minutes, perhaps hours later, he burst into a clearing, and saw a white-gowned Creole woman leaning over a stone in the midst of grass which was spotted with her blood.
Derek ran out crying his desire to help, and the lady raised her head, and looked at him. He was used to looking at beauty. Every morning, he saw the face of Vashti, and she had wonderful hair, and expressive eyes, and was all around just lovely, and such a great wife that he knew the King had given her to him. This lady surpassed Vashti in her beauty and the wonder of her dark eyes, and her light tan Creole skin, and the glory of her long, curling black hair which shone under the moonlight.
“Let me help you. I’ll protect you, heal you if I can,” he said, but she drew back, deeply frightened. Angry, he saw the imprint of a fist on her right cheekbone. The brute had punched her hard, and Derek was surprised she was not spitting blood. He tried to take another step closer, and she retreated two. He stopped.
She relaxed slightly when she saw he was not coming any closer.
“What happened?” he asked quietly.
“It was my fault.” She spoke also quietly as the light of a suddenly rising moon fell and glowed around them. She was more beautiful than Vashti, but hers was not a beauty you wanted to clasp, but only admire for its unworldly greatness. Yet hearing those words, spoken by so many abused women, he wanted to yell, to tell her it was a lie. Her husband had no right to treat her so.
“We can call the law, the police.”
She smiled, and there was deep kindness in it. “Poor boy, he is beyond the strength of Johnny Law.”
“That is what they say, what they want you to believe.”
She shook her head with a vigorous sweep, both stately and sad. He frowned; again he was trying to explain the obvious to someone who just for whatever reason could not get it. The thought to simply grab her and take her away to safety came to him, but her sudden eerily perceptive glance with a half lunge back canceled that notion quickly.
“Why does your husband treat you so?”
To his very great surprise, she responded with a tinkling laugh, full of joy.
“He is not my husband. I made a deal with him. We would operate a store together. But I found he was taking eighty, even ninety percent of all that I put in, and using it to help his half of the store. Worse, he wanted even more.”
“So you went to a judge, and got him arrested?”
“I did not need to, strange one. You are not like the others who live here. No, it clearly stated in the contract that we made that either of us, for any reason, might leave the business, and take our half of the goods. When I proposed to do this, he began to work against me. He would not let me leave.”
“You could have sued him for what he stole from you,” Derek pointed out, and to his relief, he saw a sign of agreement. She nodded.
“Perhaps, you are right. That might have been wiser. Instead, I merely proposed to let him keep what he stole, and I would go, make my own store, and he could then not steal from me again. Perhaps if I had threatened to take back what was mine, he might have respected me more.”
Internally, Derek allowed that this was possible, although men who beat women they had cheated were not likely to be that easy to persuade toward righteous behavior. But he could definitely see why a woman might simply prefer to walk away and start over leaving a thief and a cad and a cheat in the past behind her.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the woods, and a harsh voice called out like a crow’s call. The man was coming back, and Derek turned to face him. Hopefully, he could resolve this peacefully, but if need be, he would kill to protect the woman. He said as much, and she shook her head, tears in her eyes.
“So many have tried. He is unstoppable. I will not let you die for me.” So saying, she picked up her gown by the hem so that it no longer brushed the grass, and fled into the woods. Dithering for but a second, he followed her at a run, determined not to lose her.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #511: Characters Change. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
