Friday, September 3, 2010

The Weight of Water







The smell of pork stew simmering over the fire on the hearth roused Richard. His appetite had returned and even though he was incredibly sleepy, his hunger was excruciating. As he rolled over in his half conscious state he could hear voices in the distance. He thought he might be dreaming but they seemed so clear and familiar. He could hear actual words and the sound echoed across the yard. He moved again and leaned on his elbow to try and locate his wife. She was not in the parlor or the kitchen. Perhaps she had gone outside to collect more wood. As he sat up further he spied the moist wooden spoon and like a mischievous child he quickly dipped it in the large cast iron pot, blew the heat away and tasted the ambrosia. The taste of actual meat felt like a dream and made his stomach growl all the louder. The voices seemed to grow closer and Richard, a bit wobbly stood and steadied himself with the back of a chair. They were definitely familiar.

“Victoria?” He called.

“Yes?” He heard her respond from the great parlor.

“Someone’s here.” He replied. He pulled the curtain back and the sun seemed to obliterate everything in his field of vision. The pristine white snow had half buried the window and packed tightly against the glass pane. AT any moment the glass could burst letting the snow slide right into the living room. His eyes met the ground level and could just barely see above the white surface. Two people in black moved with difficulty through dense drifts. Based on their footwear it looked like a man and a woman. At that exact moment a deafening clatter reverberated through the manor. The house shook as if it had been hit by a large mortar and Richard fell to the floor. From his position he could see the ceiling quiver from the calamity above and the intense weight of destruction. A thick cloud of dust filled the room and the chimney flue backed up choking the area with thick, blinding smoke.

“Victoria! VICTORIA!” He yelled. He scrambled to his feet quickly and ran out into the hallway to find the staircase collapsed and the second floor imploded from the great weight of the snow.

“VICTORIA?” He yelled, but there was no answer and his greatest fear began to take hold.

“Mr. Rhys?” He heard a voice call from outside.

“Yes! YES! I’M HERE!” He called out.

“Mr. Rhys, it’s Mrs. Hopkins!” She exclaimed and her voice was laden with panic. “Thank God you are all right.”

“Is Mrs. Rhys with you?” A man’s voice echoed through the back entrance. Richard realized that Mr. Watkins had escorted Mrs. Hopkins out to the flatlands.

“NO! No. She was in another part of the house. She did not answer when I called.” He said trembling.

Mr. Watkins moved through the damaged back entrance. He startled Michelango who was already frightened by the calamity, reared and loosened her tether. She threw her head and whinnied. Before Mr. Watkins knew what was going on the horse had escaped through the back kitchen door into the cold white drifts.

“Miriam!” He shouted to Mrs. Hopkins who was trailing behind him. Richard met Mr. Watkins in the kitchen and they both moved to the back entrance to find Michelangelo stuck waist deep in the snow and Mrs. Hopkins toppled on her side.

“Oh God, Miriam, are you all right?” Henry asked as he rushed back outside. Richard turned and reentered the hallway blocked by tons of snow.

“Victoria! VICTORIA! Can you hear me?” He yelled but again there was no answer. Just cold silence. Henry helped Miriam inside as Richard ran back into the kitchen.

“We have to find her! We have to find Victoria!” And he pulled at Mr. Watkins. The panic and the weight of despondency began to crash over Richard as if were being pulled out to sea. He felt as though his mind was slipping away. The idea of his wife and child being taken in the blink of an eye---of a life snuffed out so quickly and with no warning seemed unreal and unfathomable. They had survived the great blizzard. They had endured cold and starvation. She had dodged a possible miscarriage only to be taken. Why now? Why have the unquenchable desire to live and to overcome only to be snuffed out like a candle. He began to dig through the debris lifting planks and shoveling snow, crumbled brick and plaster with a small tin bucket. Even his worst memories of London, of almost drowning, being orphaned, starving, the beatings, sleeping on gravestones and stealing moldy bread, the cold, the damp and slogging through human waste to retrieve used copper or animal bones to sell for food---of the unfairness and injustice of his plight in life could not compare to the loss and absolute nothingness that began to invade him. He wondered what all the dreams were for---where was the Indian woman and why did she show him such extraordinary things? Why had fate brought Chelsea into his consciousness? He dug for the card in his pocket and found nothing. He was suddenly aware that he had actually been somewhere other than in a dream state. He experienced more than just musings and the idea jolted his heart. It fluttered with possibility and grief, hope and terror. What if he could find Chelsea? What if when he found her she could take away the circumstance he currently found himself. He checked his pockets once again and to Mr. Watkins he looked like his mind may have gone feeble as a result of the storm. Still the card was gone and so it must be with Chelsea.

“Sir. You should eat something.” Mr. Watkins suggested. He turned and dug into the small basket that Mrs. Hopkins had brought. He produced a piece of dried sausage. Richard snatched it up and took several bites chewing like a half crazed animal.

“We have to find her.” Richard whispered and he wasn’t sure if he meant Victoria or Chelsea. The look in his eye seemed deranged and his emotions moved like torrents through him. Then suddenly he remembered what the Indian woman had taught him. He dropped the sausage, gazed up through the hole of the house into the deep blue sky and said, “Thank you ANSA! Thank you, Ansa, PLEASE!”

As Mr. Watkins began to help Richard clear the wreckage Mrs. Hopkins could only stand as a sentinel while the men worked. She was stunned, her face ashen with disbelief. How could she have come so close---within feet of her beloved Victoria only to be separated by time and space.

“She’s alive.” Richard said. “She’s alive---she can’t speak to us yet. She’s alive.” And the tears rolled down his face as beads of sweat formed on his brow. “She’s going to be all right.” He said in a calm and reassuring tone. The faint sound of drumming began and the hushed almost inaudible resonance of native voices made them pause.

“What is that?” Mr. Watkins asked.

“We must continue with our work!” Richard directed.

“Yes, yes. She’s going to be just fine. Victoria?!” Mrs. Hopkins began.

“That’s right, Miriam. Keep calling to her.” Mr. Watkins said. The clear blue sky filled with heaven loomed above them in its royal grandeur. The gentle breeze blew the snowflakes and colorless dust fell down into the gaping hole of the house. They brought with them the golden light of sunshine as they trickled down and lit on Richard, Henry and Miriam. They touched down like soft blessings or the subtle flutter of angel’s wings.

It was a gorgeous summer afternoon. The sunlight lingered in the sky until almost 9:00PM in June. It was bright and clear and almost piercing. Thankfully it was not a humid day and sojourns for New Yorkers were pleasant. Ashley had escorted Chelsea out of the cemetery. It was almost 5:00 and the twosome ambled along Fifth Avenue in a kind of lover’s haze. There were no words as words were not needed, just the sensation of hands clasped together or the electric connection of an arm threaded through another’s. They were in their own world delighting in each other’s reverie.

“Are you hungry?” Ashley purred.

“Are you referring to food?” Chelsea replied.

“There are some wonderful restaurants further up. Would you like to have dinner with me?” She asked. Chelsea smiled as if she had a secret. She didn’t respond immediately.

“Well?” Ashley said as she stopped. Chelsea studied her new amour for several moments. She seemed overwhelmed by the intensity of her feelings.

“I would love to, but…I think…I need to lie down.” Chelsea replied. Ashley was a bit deflated but she understood completely that her friend needed time to process the events of the day. For the first time she could see Chelsea’s fragility.

“Are you all right?” Ashley asked.

“I’ll be fine. I think I need to go home and unwind and be quiet for a little while.” Chelsea replied.

“I’ll put you in a cab.” Ashley said and she took charge exactly the way Chelsea remembered Richard taking charge. Her heart swelled again and she was thankful that Ashley could understand. They walked for several blocks through Park Slope, Brooklyn hoping to find a cab or a car service. At Tenth Street there were plenty of taxis and Ashley helped Chelsea into the car. Just before she closed the door Chelsea gazed at her longingly and mouthed the words ‘I love you’. Ashley blew her a heartfelt kiss, closed the door and watched the car pull away. She turned and let the events of the day cascade over her. As she walked she moved up towards Prospect Park not knowing why except that she wanted to tread in the footsteps of her prior life. She wanted to walk in Richard’s shoes and imagine the horse drawn carriages moving to and fro along the turn about that was Grand Army Plaza. She imagined the wool coat and the cotton trousers. Leather soled shoes that buttoned up the side or maybe boots since Brooklyn was considered the country back then. She could smell the crisp white cotton shirt with the stand up collar and the black silk tie. It made her neck hot and she subconsciously pulled her hair up into a ponytail to find relief from the heat. The summer breeze carried the soft white tufts of seeds floating aimlessly in the golden light. The sun’s rays had arched themselves across the curve of the world and it felt like infinity. When she looked up again she could see Chelsea moving towards her. She had been weeping and her face was contorted in a way that revealed panic and despair. As she moved closer Chelsea embraced Ashley with such ardor that Ashley was taken aback.

“I thought I’d lost you.” She said through her tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Ashley replied and she noticed that Chelsea’s hair was exactly like Victoria’s. It was the same texture and color and softness. As Ashley pulled herself from the embrace she was stunned to find Victoria in her arms.

“The house!” She said and her tears overwhelmed her. “My husband!”

“What’s happened?” Ashley said and she thought for a moment she was slipping away. Her entire body vibrated with electricity. Victoria was in a long dress, the same dress. Her hair pulled up as usual and in her hand she clasped a card. Ashley hailed a cab and instantly they were moving around the park. As the taxi pulled up Ashley was shocked to find a wrecking crew taking the top floor of the house apart. As she fumbled for the cab fare she dialed Felix’s cell phone.

“Felix!” She exclaimed.

“Hey babe, what a nice surprise.” He replied on the other end.

“Felix there’s a wrecking crew demolishing the house---the big white house that I made you look at the other day.” She said and her voice quivered trying to hold back her tears.

“What?!!” Felix replied. “Tell the foreman to stop---there’s a court order – a stop work order. I’m leaving now.” And he hung up. Victoria sat in the back of the taxi her head in her hands. On the seat next to her was Chelsea’s business card. Ashley looked at it for a moment wondering how it came to be in her possession. She tucked it back into Victoria’s delicate hands.

“HEY!” She shouted out the window. A burley looking teamster glanced at her momentarily. She took Victoria’s arm and helped her from the car.

“HEY, man, I’m talking to you!” She repeated.

“Yeah?” The man grunted.

“You have to stop! This property has a stop work order.” Ashley said. The man looked at her condescendingly and started laughing.

“I don’t stop unless there’s paperwork and cops.” Then he took a long pull from his iced coffee.

“Fine. I’m calling the cops right now.” Ashley threatened.

“Look, hon. This is city property. Unless you get Mike Bloomberg himself down here there ain’t no stopping. So do me a favor and take a hike.” He replied.

“This is my house!” Victoria screamed and she slowly floated down to the grass unable to bear her own weight.

“Do me a favor and take your crazy friend there and yourself to some other place to throw a fit.” The guy said. Ashley went over to Victoria and sat next to her on the grass. Victoria let her hands tenderly feel the underside of her pregnant belly. Her face was swollen from crying and from the immediate duress.

“Are you all right? Do I need to call an ambulance?” Ashley asked but Victoria couldn’t understand. Her weeping subsided to otherworldly sobs that held the weight of time within its confines.

Felix pulled up with Louis and Archie. He jumped out of the private car and immediately went to the foreman.

“I bought his house yesterday--- from the city. It is now private property and your boss is responsible for the repairs and renovation.” Felix ordered providing papers as proof.

“That’s right. And there will be no chintzing on the materials to fully restore this building.” Louis added.

“Who the fuck are you?” The foreman said.

“Louis Appelbaum I am on the board of the New York Historical Society and I suggest you call a stop right now if you don’t want to get slapped with at least a dozen fines.” Louis answered.

“Like I told the broad over there you’ll have to get Mike Bloomberg on the phone for me to stop work.” The foreman answered. Felix lunged at the man as Louis held him back.

“Go ahead, pal. Take a shot. I’ll fuckin’ kick your ass out to Long Island.” The foreman added as he threw his coffee on the ground and took a fighting stance. Louis dialed his phone and after a few rings a kindly woman answered.

“Yes, is Christine Quinn in please?” Louis said. “Thank you. Hey Christine! How are you? Uh-huh, listen I got a little problem over here near Prospect Park. Yeah we got a guy who won’t honor a stop – work order. Yeah, as a matter of fact it is Felix’s house. Hold on.” Louis said sweetly. “She wants to talk to you.” Louis handed the phone to the foreman.

“Ummm, yeah. Uh-huh. Papers.” The foreman stretched out his hand as Felix placed the papers. The foreman looked them over as his face grew increasingly red. He turned away and kicked at the dirt like a boy being reprimanded in the schoolyard. “Yep. I mean, yes, ma’am.” He uttered. He whistled to the guys on the top floor and then passed his finger across his neck to signify stop working. The workmen looked confused.

“STOP WORK ORDER. FROM THE CITY!” Felix yelled. The men laid their tools down and sat on the edge of the newly demolished wall awaiting their next directive. Felix looked over to see Ashley soothing someone that was not there.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly. She stood up and took a step towards him.

“That’s Victoria. That’s the woman I was telling you about. She works here. I think she’s kind of poor. I bring her food.” Ashley said quietly so as not to upset her friend.

“There’s no one there, Ashley.” Felix said concerned. And as Ashley turned around Victoria had vanished.

“I can explain but you have to be open to what I’m going to tell you.” She said guardedly.

“You’re not well.” Felix replied.

“No. You just don’t understand what’s happening.” Ashley replied.

“This house is yours. I bought it for you. That’s what I understand. I love you. I want to help you. And if that means I go to every specialist in the city---in the world to make you well again, I will.” Felix said and his eyes were moist and Ashley was so moved by his expression that she could no longer hold back her own tears. She moved easily into his arms.

“I’m gonna fix this house up. Louis is going to make sure it is restored to its brilliant grandeur. And now that this douchebag has royally fucked it up, it won’t cost that much.” He said softly. “Let me take you home. It’s been a hard day.” He said and his words made sense. She needed guidance and care for the moment. She needed food and a hot bath. She needed a nice glass of red wine. Most of all she needed Chelsea.

“I have something else to tell you.” She demurred.