“What am I to do, Malvina?” I said, shocked by her blunt phrasing. “I am his wife and he does what he will to me.”
“There are compounds you can take to keep his seed at bay, you’ve seen me administer it,” she told me, ignoring the flinch as the mixture seeped into the cut under my eye.
“I am already with child, Malvina,” I told her patiently. “It is far too late.”
“I have compounds for that too, child,” she said, removing the cloth and grabbing both sides of my face. “The way he’s been carrying on with you, you’ll lose the little one, but you will die with the babe if you continue your pregnancy and then who’ll watch over Iris? I ain’t gonna be around too much longer, child. See for yourself what he will do to you.”
Malvina had told me never to divine the future, as it's bad for the soul and dangerous to see outcomes not meant for the living to be privy to. I looked at her doubtfully, but her eyes gave me permission and encouragement to open that Pandora’s box. I swallowed and closed my eyes, reaching out with my mind to grasp the veracity of it, and there it was. Visions of blood running down my legs, beatings and pain and Iris watching. I saw Malvina too, but before I could make sense of the budding vision, her crone hands wrenched my shoulders.
“Stop, child!” she roared and then dropped her voice to whisper. “Ye needn’t see more.”
“But Malvina…” I started, still reeling from the scenes of horror that had bled into my brain. “I saw you.”
“I have made my decisions and I know what’s important. What happens to me as a result is of no matter,” she snapped, turning back to her paste, slapping more of it on with her wiry fingers.
“What happens to you, Malvina?” I asked, knowing I would not receive an answer.
“Never you mind, child,” she said, grabbing a mug of a steaming brew and shoving it towards me.
“This is it? The mixture that will end my pregnancy?” I asked, watching as she gave one single nod. “Is this what leads to your fate?”
“It ain’t your business, child.” She scurried around, sweeping and stoking the fire while I held the beverage and contemplated what drinking it would mean. After an hour of holding it blankly, I slowly raised the cup and drank. It was as bitter and unpalatable as my future, but I forced it down while Malvina nodded her approval.
“I taught you most what I know, girl,” she said, coming to sit next to me. “When I’m gone, come to my shack and look under the woodpile for your inheritance.”
“I don’t want you to die, Malvina,” I said, a lump forming in my throat.
“You live and then you die, child,” she told me, easing me back down on her cot to rest. “I’ve been here longer than most, and I’ve had my share of life, and it ain’t been good. My kids came and went, ashamed of their old witch of a mother, except you. You’ve been a daughter to me and in turn I showed you the way of women in desperate situations. A way we can have power.”
“I love you, Malvina,” I told her honestly, as my insides began to churn, the cramps coming on strong.
“And I you, child,” she said with a craggly smile as she petted my hair gently and coaxed my mouth open to pour another mixture in, sweeter this time. “Sleep now.”
My fear is temporarily allayed by the dark rolling over my vision. Though the calm is brought artificially by a cocktail of herbs, the knowledge makes me no less soothed, uncaring of what I might wake to or if I might wake at all.
Chapter 6
Kat
Beams of brilliant light come shining through the cracks of the curtains, inviting me to greet the day with more zest than I’d been planning to. As I wade through the haphazardly strewn shoes and snack wrappers on the floor, I shake my head. I have got to get my act together. I’ve ordered room service and quickly realize whoever delivers it will know my dirty little secret. That I’m literally dirty.
As I start to pick up I hear a rapid knock at the door and curse under my breath. I take a brief look at myself and am pleased that at least my hair and face aren’t as thrashed as my room.
I swing open the door and am surprised to see Kayla standing there rather than room service. I cannot believe she is already beautifully coiffed for the day. Her braids hang loose, eyes bright and she’s sharply outfitted in clearly bespoke turquoise cigarette pants and an embroidered black midriff top.
“Hello, sunshine,” she smiles as I open the door and motion for her to come in.
“Good morning, and welcome to my slovenly suite,” I spread out my hand to display the majesty. “I will allow you in even though I don’t see you hiding any pancakes or bacon.”
“Oh girl,” she laughs as she looks around in a mixture of horror and amazement. “Some things never change.”
“Yeah, yeah. The good thing is that my actual apartment remains clean because I’m never there,” I shrug as I lean over and continue picking up trash, happy to see her automatically join me.
“So you just let the housekeepers clean up after you?” Kayla snorts as she raises a bag of mostly crushed pork rinds up and wrinkles her nose.
“No! That would be unprofessional. I don’t use housekeeping and then furiously clean up before I leave, so they only have to worry about normal housekeeping,” I explain, laughing at how ridiculous it sounds out loud.
“Ah, so no one else is subjected to a barrage of Little Debbie wrappers.” She throws a coffee cup at the trash and actually lands the basket, and of course, she doesn’t give it a second look.
“Yes, now you see. Feel free to switch to
