the boy (3)

I dressed myself in a blue suite with dark blue shoes, the attire for gentleman. Jessica came and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Boy, are you done in there? Hurry up now!" By this time I was fixing my bow tie and putting on my cologne.

"Yes, Jessica, I am almost done."

"Well hurry up! I don’t want you dawdling away in the bathroom when she arrives!" I opened the door and let Jessica take me in. She looked me up and down, making sure I was picture perfect. "Alright. Go downstairs and sit on the sofa. Don’t move from there!" I nodded my head. The wooden stairs creaked as I put my weight on each foot, stepping down, gazing at the hustle and bustle going on below me. Marie was wiping off the coffee table in the main living room, and Cook was busily setting things on and off the stove. I gazed at the frenzy before me. Yes, this was my life, but is this what I wanted. I glanced at Marie, noticing the water stain on her uniform. Her back was bent as she hurriedly wiped down the table and went to straighten the curtains. Such beauty could kill a man. Jessica grabbed me by the back of the collar on my suite. " Come on boy! Don’t just stand on the stairs!"

"Alright, alright." I shrugged her off of me and went to sit down on the silk, white sofa. Flowers of every color were in the painted, glass vases, standing on glossed pinewood stools. You’d think, after all this trouble, my mother would be grateful, but it didn’t surprise me by what happened when she arrived.

The black coach arrived at the front of the house at five minutes ‘til 2 in the afternoon, the usual time. The horseman stepped off of the buggy and opened my mother’s door. There she was, a thing of beauty. Her brown hair was tied in a bun in the back of her head, covered by a large feathered hat. Her long, black gown sparkled in the afternoon sun. She always dressed to impress, as was expected of her. She delicately stepped out of the coach, taking the hand of the horseman, gazing up at the mansion before her. Jessica was already at the door, welcoming her, and I was standing just inside ready to be judged and scrutinized as always. Jessica nodded and curtsied, smiling profusely as my mother took small steps up to the front door.

"Jessica, please. You are a common housemaid. Do not act like anything more or anything less." Jessica stood erect and stopped smiling at once. I felt almost sad for her. She was not just a housemaid, but of course, mother would know nothing of that, and to talk back was out of the question. She stood there, taking whatever mother was going to give her, without saying a word, hiding her disappointment and brokenness like a champion. She stepped inside and eyed me like a hawk. "Boy, what have you been doing while I’ve been gone? Growing tall I see. Anything useful? Can you write? Can you read?" I could hear the sarcasm in her voice.

"Yes, mother. I am well versed in literature, and I write, although very little." I stared at her forehead to avert her eyes.

"What am I to expect from a young heathen, such as yourself?" She took off her hat and placed on the coffee table in the sitting room and walked around. She was satisfied with the arrangement. "Jessica!" Came her shrill voice. Jessica came to her aid. "Tell cook to serve me in my study. I shan’t be dining with Benjamin."

"Yes Ma’m." And with that, mother walked off, leaving Jessica and I to stand alone on the front porch. The horseman returned to his buggy, nodding as he sat upon his seat, and left us. Marie was standing in the shadows of the front room.

"She’s awful, isn’t she Marie?" I said quietly.

"Benjamin!" Jessica scolded. "Don’t talk about My Lady that way." I rolled my eyes. It was her job to keep me in line, wasn’t it?

"Yes, Sir. She’s quite mean." I chuckled. Marie was still young. Jessica sighed, and pushed me out of the way so she could close the front door.

"Well, that’s enough of that." She wiped her hands on her apron. "Marie, go into the kitchen and prepare My Lady’s dinnerware. Benjamin, go upstairs and find a use for yourself." She then walked towards the back of the house. Marie and I stood looking at each other. It was a different feeling, then, staring at her. I could see her blush the longer I stared.

"I must be going to work, Sir." She looked down, trying to hide her face.

"Yes. You do that."

Carefully sitting on the shrine of time, one will notice that there is always nothing going on, and that there are no ordinary moments. In life, you can see the earth change before you if your eyes let go of the illusion in front of them. It takes patience to learn this skill. I cannot say I am the master of it, but I have the knowledge of how it should be.

Looking beyond myself, I could see, in those years, only one constant that I began to enjoy. Yes, it was Marie, my Marie. The day mother came home, Marie and I had finally noticed each other in a new light. I could tell by the way she would blush each time she averted my glance. I was so caught up in it, but, in this situation, wouldn’t you be too if you were me?

Mother took it upon herself to inspect every inch of the house before retiring to her room.

"Cook, the kitchen is adequate, but if I’m ever to bring guests over, I can’t have them be served on such plain ware. Order gold dinnerware. I don’t want to see these plates again." I was still standing in the front room after Marie had left me, listening to the conversation mother was having in the kitchen. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"But, My Lady, these plates were my mother’s." I could tell from the tone of Cook’s voice how frightened she was to speak up.

"Well, isn’t that lovely?" Mother said sarcastically. "Why don’t you wrap them up and put them in a box and get me my gold dinnerware. Is that too much for you to do? Do I need to hire another cook?" Poor Cook hurriedly went to the cabinets and started to take out all the plates and dishes, her back to mother.

"N..n..no, My Lady. As you wish."