Cutler 05 - Darkest Hour

reluctant to take the tray and get Louella in trouble.
    "It don't matter no more, Miss Lillian. I'm too old to worry about it and the truth is, my days here is numbered. I was going to tell the Captain this week."
    "Numbered? What do you mean, Louella?"
    "I'm going to leave The Meadows and go live with my sister in South Carolina. She's retired from her position and it's time I was retired from mine."
    "Oh no, Louella," I cried. She was more like family to me than a household servant. I couldn't begin to count the dozens and dozens of times I had run to her when I had cut a finger or bruised a knee. It was Louella who nursed me through all of my childhood illnesses and Louella who mended my clothes and sewed my hems. When Eugenia died, it was Louella who gave me the most comfort and who I comforted.
    "I'm sorry, honey," she said, but then smiled. "But you don't worry none about yourself. You're a big girl now and a smart girl. It won't be long before you'll have your own household and you'll leave here, too." She hugged me and left.
    Just the thought of Louella's leaving The Meadows sickened me. I lost my appetite and stared blankly at the food she had brought, dabbing my fork into the potatoes and meat with little interest. A few moments later, the door swung open again and Emily glared in, nodding.
    "I thought so," she said. "I saw the way Louella was sneaking around. You'll be sorry, the both of you will," she threatened.
    "Emily, the only thing I'm sorry about is that it was poor Eugenia who was taken from us and not you," I spit. She reddened like I had never seen her redden before. For a moment she was speechless. Then she hoisted her shoulders and turned away. I heard her thick heels click down the hallway and then I heard her door slam shut. In moments it was deathly quiet. I took a deep breath and started to eat again. I knew I would need my strength for what was surely to follow.
    I didn't have to wait long. When Papa returned that night, Emily was there at the door to greet him and tell him about my defiance at the dinner table and what she would characterize as Louella's and my conspiracy to disobey her commands. I had gone to sleep early and woke to the sound of Papa's heavy footsteps in the corridor. His boots pounded the floor, and suddenly he burst open the door to my room. In the light behind him, I saw his silhouette. He was carrying a thick, cowhide belt in his hand. My heart began to pound.
    "Put on the lamp," he commanded. I hurried to do so. Then he entered my room and closed the door behind him. His face was red with rage, but after only a moment in his presence I got a whiff of the bourbon. It seemed he had taken a bath in it. "You defied the Bible," he said. "You blasphemed at my dinner table?" He raged not only with his voice, but with his jet eyes that were fixed on me so firmly, I could barely breathe.
    "No, Papa. Emily asked me to read and I did. I read over fifteen pages, but she wouldn't let me stop and I was hungry."
    "You let your body overcome the needs of your soul?"
    "No, Papa. I read enough of the Bible."
    "You don't know what's enough and what isn't. I told you to obey Emily as you would obey me," he said, drawing closer.
    "I did, Papa. But she was being unreasonable and unfair and cruel, not only to me, but to Louella and to Henry and . ."
    "Pull that quilt back," he commanded. "Pull it!" I did so quickly.
    "Turn on your stomach," he ordered.
    "Papa, please," I begged. I started to cry. He seized my shoulder and turned me abruptly. Then he lifted my nightgown so that my behind was bare. For a moment I felt only the palm of his hand over it. It seemed he was stroking it softly. I started to turn when he roared at me.
    "Turn thy face away, Satan," he cried. The moment I did so, I felt the first blow. The strap burned into my flesh. I screamed, but he struck me again and again.
    Papa had slapped me before, but he had never beaten me like this. After a moment, I was too shocked to cry. I gagged on my sobs instead. Finally, he decided I had been punished enough.
    "Never, never disobey a commandment in this house and never slam a Bible onto the table as if it were a common book," he instructed.
    I wanted to speak, but all I could do was choke on my words. The burning went so deeply, I felt the pain reach into my chest and make my heart feel so hot it was as if the strap had cut through my body. I didn't move and for a long moment, I heard him standing over me, breathing hard. Then, he