Liberated
I never knew he would never come back. Shock was all I seemed capable of feeling.
When I moved house, as he told me to do, should he not return, I felt the same shock.
When I sat in the garden and knitted socks for a man I would never again see, I felt the same shock.
When I ate alone, with a silence and a solitude interrupted only by the occasional servant, I felt the same shock.
When I lie in bed alone, knowing that the space next to me will never again be filled by the presence of my sweet, sweet Roy, the shock has left me. All I find myself capable of feeling is grief.
Anguish travels through my veins, pumping agony to every part of my body from a crushed heart.
I shudder and cease wondering why he hasn’t returned.
I was but sixteen when I learned of Roy’s secrets. Sheltered and carefully cultivated in the Deep South, my upbringing was based on ideas of perfection in children and obedience from a wife.
I often spent time on the shores of the ocean, a beach two miles from my family’s home. I watched the waves rise and fall, crashing deeply. I couldn’t help but wondered if that was how my father and mother’s crumbling marriage would end. Explosive, violent, furious.
Drawing a bird in the sand absentmindedly, I reflected on how my family had begun to spiral out of control.
Though I felt guilty for blaming him, I knew it had all started with my father. He was seen several cities away, with young, promiscuous women. Infidelity was his Achilles' heel, what led him away from our farm for weeks.
Then came my older sister Florence’s part in the destruction of our family. My father said her eloping brought shame to our family, but, secretly, in the back of my mind, I was happy for her. Somewhere, hundreds of miles away, I hoped she was walking barefooted over lushly green hills, hand-in-hand with her Jesse.
Walter, my older brother certainly didn’t help. After a heated dispute with my father, he’d left, taking a job at a newspaper far, far north.
The strain of losing my father to seductresses miles away had not been good to my mother, and the pain of two of her three children leaving had left her crippled. After Walter left, she was rarely seen with a bottle or flask, seldom did the smell of alcohol leave her breath.
She and my father had entered another quarrel just before I left for the beach that morning. The screaming hadn’t started when I’d left, but I’d known it wouldn’t be long before shouts echoed off of every surface in our house.
I drew wings on the bird with a flourish, wondering how long it would be before I shamed my family, wondering if I already had.
Rapidly approaching footsteps scared me out of my reverie. A bearded man was sprinting towards me, glancing over his shoulder every few moments.
He stopped a few feet from me, grinning broadly, as though an idea had just struck him. After ripping off his black coat, he dropped beside me. He tugged off the beard, a fake, and whispered, “Act like you know me.”
I turned sharply, responding with a timid “Why?”
“Take a chance.” He grinned and glanced over his shoulder again.
I might’ve run, if not for the captivatingly mischievous spark in his emerald eyes.
Heavy footfalls thudded behind us; I looked to see two very breathless constables.
Shooting me a meaningful stare, my new acquaintance stood, pulling me up and grasping my hand.
“Is there something we can help you with?” he asked with a southern drawl that had not been there moments before.
“Have you seen a bearded man?” one of the officers queried, wheezing between words. “Wearing black?”
The emerald-eyed man frowned and shook his head. “I don’t believe so, sirs. Whoever he is, I hope you find him.”
They turned and left moments later, wishing us a breathless good day.
I sat back down and he plopped beside me. “I’m Roy.” He grinned broadly, holding out a hand. I recognized his accent to be from the north, although his drawl had been very accurate.
I looked at him suspiciously, cautiously taking his hand. “Cora.”
Roy squinted, making me feel entirely transparent, as though he knew how scared I was of my father, how I hated that my mother was never sober, how I missed Walter and Florence. I stared at my feet, flushing slightly.
“It’s good to meet you, Cora.”
I nodded, my eyes darting to his face before resting on the waves. His handsome face. Roy really was a good-looking guy and probably only three or four years older than me.
A thought struck me suddenly. What was I doing, sitting on a beach with some man who was probably an outlaw?
“I should go,” I said mechanically, wincing at the thought of returning home in the middle of another fracas.
“Don’t leave just yet.” Roy frowned. “I’m not dangerous. Illegal, yes. Unsafe in any way, no.”
I fought with myself mentally, wanting to stay, but knowing it wasn’t the best idea.
“At least keep me company for a little while,” he pleaded.
“Alright.” I sighed, sitting back down.
Roy began to talk asking me mindless questions. What was my favorite color? Green. Did I read? Yes. What books? Mysteries. Which ones?
His questions went on and on, until he got me to laugh.
“There.” He grinned triumphantly.
“What?” I asked self-consciously.
“I got you to smile. You really should smile more often. It’s a nice smile.”
I fought back a grin.
“Don’t hide it,” Roy chastised.
I let my lips draw back, showing as many teeth as I thought possible.
My smile faded as I noticed the sun slowly sinking closer to the horizon. “I should be going.” I sighed. “Really.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That’s too bad. I didn’t really want to stop talking yet.”
“Me neither,” I said softly.
“Can I see you again?” Roy asked hopefully.
I simply nodded.
“Here, in a week?”
I grinned, nodding again.
He beamed. “I can’t wait.”
Roy bowed deeply and kissed my hand. I responded with a theatrical curtsy before walking away.
“Next week!” Roy called from the shore.
I waved, giggling flippantly.
I cry brokenly as I remember how Roy was my sunshine, the light in my life. My mother and father continued to fight, I saw Roy. That was all I knew of life, all I wanted to know.
“Am I still enough?” Roy asked, barely moving.
I frowned as I rearranged my paper on the book I was using as a hard surface. “No. Your lips aren’t still.”
He sighed dramatically. “What was I thinking, letting you draw me?”
I stuck my tongue out at Roy, surveying my almost finished drawing of him.
“Are you done?” he whined.
“I’ll be done when it’s right,” I mumbled, shading the space below his left cheekbone.
“Perfectionist,” he muttered.
“Thief,” I retorted.
“Fair enough.” He shrugged.
After a few minutes more, I held up the drawing. “Done.”
Roy grinned widely as he appraised the sketch of his profile, the ocean and shore behind him. “It’s great. I’ll put it up in my new room.”
“Roy,” I whispered. “Do you have to go to Boston?”
He sighed. “Cora, we talked about this. I have to go. In my line of work, staying in one place for too long is dangerous.”
I looked away, my lower lip trembling. Setting the sketch and book on the sand, I drew my arms around my knees.
“Cora.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and I continued to look away.
“Cora.”
Another tear followed its path.
“Cora, please, look at me.” I did so, and Roy wiped the trail on my cheek. “I’m not leaving you for forever. I’ll be back to visit you as much as I can.”
“I’m scared,” I murmured.
“I’ll be fine, and so will you.”
“What if I won’t be fine?”
Something like concern flashed in Roy’s brilliant viridescent eyes. “What do you mean?”
I wondered if I was giving too much up. “Things aren’t… that great in my home.”
“What do you mean?” he queried, eyes narrowing.
I hesitated.
Roy grabbed my hand. “You can tell me. Don’t be afraid.”
I sighed heavily. “My mother, she drinks. A lot. My father isn’t home much. And when he is, they fight.” I lowered the hand Roy wasn’t holding to the sand and drew an oval on the sand. “Half of our best china is gone from them throwing it. Well, when my mother’s sober enough to throw things.”
“Cora.” I glanced at Roy before adding a beaked head to my shape. “Do you ever get… hurt?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“Have you ever thought of leaving?” he asked through clinched teeth.
I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“Why?” he fumed. “What is making you stay? Why?”
“My mother,” I confessed, trying to stay calm. “She can’t lose another child. Not yet.”
“Someday you’ll leave,” Roy reasoned, regaining composure.
“I know.”
He exhaled loudly. “I’ll be back for you. I’ll save you.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” I smiled weakly.
I went back to the beach the next Saturday, willing myself to hold on to the memories of Roy. I hadn’t expected to find who I’d longed to see.
“The waves are beautiful in this light, huh?” a familiar voice commented.
I spun around, running towards Roy as soon as I caught sight of his handsome face. I kissed him ardently and threw my arms around his neck.
“If I’d known you’d kissed me like that,” Roy murmured, “I would’ve said I was leaving a long time ago.”
I blushed, smiling slightly. “You could’ve gotten me out of a kiss before now.”
“You know it.” He chuckled.
“So…”
“So?”
“What happened to Boston?” I asked.
“I figured what’s here is more important.”
I don’t guess Roy ever knew that his words were the anchor I held onto when he did have to leave for short periods of time. Everything was perfect.
“You know something?” Roy asked.
“I know a lot of things,” I replied wryly.
One corner of his mouth pulled up. “You know I swindle people out of their money daily and steal and lie and cheat.”
“Yes, you do.” I beamed, unwilling to let Roy think I was bothered by his profession.
He hesitated.
“Roy, I told you that my father scares the livin’ daylights outta me sometimes. I never told anyone else that, not even my sister. You can tell me anything,” I assured him.
He sighed. “You don’t know what really and truly makes me a social outcast.”
“If you want me to know, you can tell me,” I said gently.
“I show you,” he said softly. I wasn’t used to a meek Roy, only the cocky, playful Roy I’d met on the beach.
My thoughts on his sudden change were interrupted by a physical metamorphosis. The cloth on the back of his shirt ripped, two bat-like wings bursting through.
I was so shocked I couldn’t breathe.
Roy bowed his head, ashamed. He walked away slowly, wings moving with the wind.
After a moment of watching Roy's retreat dumbly, I chased after him. “Roy!” I called. “Stop, Roy!!!”
He halted and turned around, his eyes full of fury. “Got tons of questions, huh? What’s wrong with me? Why am I the way I am?”
“Roy,” I whispered. “You're scaring me.”
“You’re scared?” he yelled. “Then just run off! How long until you decide the freak isn’t good enough for you? Well, Miss Cora, even if mine are more prominent, we all have our faults, including you! You’re not perfect, just because you can draw a pretty picture!”
It was my turn to retreat, leaving Roy to handle his rage. I walked back to the place where we’d sat, musing bitterly about why I’d let a con man know my deepest insecurities, my fear of not being good enough, if he was just going to use them against me.
“Cora!” I heard yelled. “Come back!”
I glanced behind me to see Roy rushing towards me, and I quickened my pace, eventually finding myself sprinting. His hands caught my shoulders, pulling me back.
“No, Roy!” I snapped, attempting to yank free of his grasp. “I’m leaving, just like you want!”
“I never said that,” he protested helplessly.
“You didn’t have to,” I screeched. “This is just your little way of driving me away, huh? Insult me, manipulate me, put words in my mouth? Oh, I’m just the dumb southern belle! You can trick a silly, stupid girl like me any day of the week.”
“Talk about putting words in someone’s mouth!” he exclaimed. “I never said or meant that!”
“Well, if you didn’t mean any of it, then why did you say anything like it?” I said dangerously.
“I was angry,” he answered quietly. “And I’m sorry you got the brunt of my anger.”
I considered his apology for a moment, trying not to notice the wings still protruding from his back. They weren’t ugly or hideous, really, just strange. “You’re forgiven.”
Roy smiled sheepishly. “I guess you do have some questions.”
“Yes.”
“Ask away,” he said, trying to act careless, like we both knew he wasn’t.
“How did you get have them?”
He shrugged. “I was born with wings. Maybe my father had them. I don’t know. I don’t know him, so it’s a little tricky to find out…”
I nodded and clutched his hand in mine. “Are there more people like you?”
“I don’t know. Salem witch trials make one uneasy to share… abnormal things about oneself.”
I snuggled into his shoulder. “One more question.”
“Yes?”
“What is flying like?”
I looked up to see him beaming down at me. “There is nothing like it.”
I think Roy waited for me to draw away. He didn’t leave me for my imperfections, so why should he be abandoned for his? Roy was my other half, the part of me I didn’t know before him. Defects couldn’t change that.
He looked at me intensely for a moment. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Roy grinned crazily. “Marry me.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Marry me! We’ll move so far away that your father could never find you.” He laughed loudly. I’ll build you the biggest, most beautiful house you’ve ever seen!”
“Roy… I…” I didn’t know what to think. “Yes! Yes!” I repeated, giggling with joy.
Roy picked me up and spun me around. I laughed until we fell to the ground, dizzy.
“It’s a perfect plan.” He grinned.
“It is.” I sighed, sitting up straight.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“My mother.” What would she do without me?
“Cora, you do what you have to. I’ll wait here all night for you.”
I stand by the window in my bedroom, hoping for some sign of him in the night sky.
“Mother!” I yelled as I ran through the house. “Mother!”
I finally found her in the parlor. “Mother?”
“Hmm?” She stared at me drunkenly.
“I’m…” I couldn’t leave her. My heart sank at the thought of making Roy wait any longer, making me wait any longer.
She got up and half-stumbled across the room, getting something out of a chest of drawers. She staggered over to me, pressing something in my hands. “Make sure he treats you right,” she slurred.
I threw my arms around her. “I love you, Mama.”
“Cora.”
She returned to the couch sitting down and picking up her bottle. I looked in my hands to see her jade ring, the one she always used to wear, when Walter, Florence, and I were young, and everything was happy.
I slid it onto my right hand, promising to wear it always.
I rub the ring that still rests on my finger. I have fulfilled my promise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” my father roared, eyeing the clothing slung over my arm and the possessions I held.
I froze.
“Where?” he repeated, even louder. He struck me on the side of the head. “Where?”
I stayed silent, tears rolling down my cheeks.
He raised his hand to hit me again, but, before he could, a bottle crunched over his head. He fell limp on the floor, my mother behind him.
“It was empty anyways.” She shrugged. “Now you get out of here.”
With one final hug, I left to meet Roy, to meet the future.
I still don’t know what happened to Mother or my father. All I’ve thought about these last nine years we’d spent together is Roy. I stare out the window, despite the fact that I know he will never return.
Suddenly, a shape flies down, an enormous, silhouette. Upon closer examination, I realize it is raven.
I wait for hours, falling asleep in a hard wooden chair beside the window.
When I wake up, my back hurts, but I do not consider it. My heart hurts so much more.
I find a dress and try to convince myself that everything will be okay.
Day is breaking as I return to the window. Another form swoops down. One that doesn't look so bird-like.
I run down the stairs, to our foyer, to find the front door opening.
Intelligent emerald eyes with dark circles under them meet my hazels.
Roy embraces me, kissing me passionately.
“You came,” I whisper over and over. Tears gathering in my eyes.
My hand brushes against his wing and I wonder if this is how it feels to fly.
Relieved, weightless, entirely liberated.
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