Young Writers Society

Eleanora

It was particularly busy in the store the next day, the day after the bandit attack.

As I helped each customer, I couldn't stop thinking about Elias. I found myself jumping at each ring of the bell, my heart racing until I noticed it was just another housewife getting ingredients for dinners for the week, just another ruffian looking for oil for a lamp or a length of rope.

The heat of the noon, the gradual changes in shadow as the sun moved, it all passed so slowly until, finally, it was sundown. I had prepared his sister's package early this morning, retrieving the forgotten note from where it had flitted to the floorboards.

I slipped the parcel beneath the counter, removing my apron from my waist and the protective white puffy sleeves from my arms. I took the cash from the register, taking it back to the large green safe in the back. I then changed into a clean dress, a light pink one. I had about 10 dresses total. A luxury for most, but I often combined different blouses with long skirts, tucking in the blouse respectfully with a shawl over my shoulders and a bonnet on my head.

I walked out of the store, locking up and sliding the key in my dress pocket before heading over to the pub/inn next door. We had a town restaurant but it was normally pretty crowded. Usually, pubs in towns were very seedy and full of whores, but the family next door kept it respectable for the most part, only one or two women selling themselves while the men drank. The pub wouldn't be busy for another hour, so I decided to get some supper.

The girl behind the bar looked faintly familiar. She had probably come into the store at one time or another.

"Good evening miss," she said, "what can I get you?"

"I know you don't officially serve food, but I often come in and eat. Do you have anything tonight?"

"Yes miss, potatoes, rice and beans. You know how scarce meat can be."

I nodded. "Thank you."

My eyes wandered around the pub, it was the first time I had been there since Ben had died. I noticed then, huddling in the corner was an old stand up piano.

"Has that always been there?" I asked the lady behind the bar.

"Yes, it hasn't been used in years, however. Do you play?"

I nodded. "Once a very long time ago. May I?"

"If it isn't horribly out of tune," she said, laughing lightly, "sure. Your food will be ready soon." she walked to the back, what I assumed would be a kitchen.

I stood from the bar stool and walked hesitantly to the instrument. I hadn't played in so many years, the lighting was dim, and the piano was probably in worse shape than a salamander in the snow.

I lowered myself onto the hard bench, smoothing my skirts out. My fingers floated hesitantly above the keys. They had yellowed over time, chipping from abuse and discolored from cigar smoke. Taking a deep breath, I played the first chord, C major.

The notes rang through the pub louder than I expected, startling me somewhat. I noticed one of the keys so far was very flat and it made me cringe a little bit, the very jaunty, major chord sounding slightly sinister and more minor due to the flat note. But I noticed, my fingers felt comfortable. This was where they were meant to be, on the keys of the piano. I belonged here, more than I had belonged anywhere else in a very long time.

I recalled a sonata I'd learned before, a beautiful yet obscure sonata with flowing notes and phrases. It was fairly simple, but I loved the sound. I began to play, really play. My left hand finding the groups of notes to make chords, my right hand dancing over the keys. Occasionally, I cringed as I hit a note that wasn't in tune, the sharp or flat slightly marring the illusion of music, of this melody that could enthrall you.

I became so lost in the music that I forgot I was hungry, I forgot that Ben had died, that I'd murdered him. I forgot the responsibility of the store, the precariousness of living in Jade. All of that disappeared, it was just me and the keys, this instrument that could be manipulated into creating beautiful sounds, very much like I had been manipulated, only this piano made the pain beautiful. A perfect storm. A light in a room that had been dark for a very long time. This one moment was my peace, my salvation. My own personal hallelujah.

The sonata ended, the final note lingering throughout the pub and I closed my eyes, exhaling deeply.

"That was beautiful."

I stood up so quickly I knocked over the piano bench. It was a man's voice I heard, not the quiet voice of the girl behind the bar. I did, however, notice that while I'd been playing, she had set my dinner out.

My heart jumped in my throat and I kneaded my hands together, gripping the light pink fabric of my dress.

"Thank you," I whispered to Elias, his broad shoulders blocking my view of the door.

"I came to get my sister's package, hoping you hadn't closed. The lanterns in the store were out and I heard the music, so I came to investigate."

"I see." I bent down to pick up the bench and set it upright before sitting on my barstool, sipping the tin cup of water the barkeep had set out.

He sat next to me. "Where did you learn to play like that?" he asked. I flashed back to the big house I shared with my parents, the large grande piano in our living room, the number of warm, sunny days I spent learning to play inside when my playmates were outside, frolicking around.

"I just sort of taught myself, you know. You like music?"

"My mother played," he said. Then he shut his mouth as if he'd said something he didn't intend to say. I chose to ignore 'played', the past tense form of the word. It was obviously a personal matter and I didn't want to be improper.

"I have your sister's parcel at the store if you want it," I said.

"No, now I'm hungry," he said before politely asking the young woman to get him a plate as well. "We can eat together."

I tried to arrange my face in the most neutral expression possible, but in reality, my body was recoiling. My heart was racing. I felt sick. The smell of a man, listening to his breath, it all reminded me of Ben. Elias smelled of clean soap and leather, a very distinctly masculine scent. I feared him. Not because I questioned his character, but because I'd never met a man in the past that had treated me with anything other than disrespect. Even my own father had cast me aside, angry that my mother hadn't, and couldn't bear him a son.

Even my own husband had touched me against my will.

"What's that?" Elias asked, pointing at my arm. Since I'd been with Ben, I had gotten thinner. My wrists were smaller and my sleeve had slide a little bit up my arm. There was still a faint bruise from where Ben had grabbed me, the night that I... that he...

"Nothing," I said, quickly pulling my sleeve back down to my wrist before resting that hand in my lap.

The food was good, Elias seemed pleased when he got his plate. For the most part, we ate in silence.

"How are you managing with the store?" he asked, finally, setting his fork down in his pile of beans.

"Everything is going well, thank you," I said stiffly.

"I know your husband's death has been difficult. That bandit attack seemed to really frighten you. I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

I tensed even more at the mention of my husband. My hand was now shaking.

"Everything's fine." My voice was cold, stiff. Unforgiving.

"Do you have anything in the job that might need fixing?" he asked.

"Why does it matter?" I snapped.

He ignored my anger. "It's difficult not having a man in the house. I was simply being polite." he looked at me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He wanted to find something wrong, to fix. To give him an excuse to be near me.

I shook the thought out of my head. Don't be stupid, Elle,

"Yes," I found myself blurting out. "One of the shop windows rattles at night."

"Ah, well that's no good. You have some very nice panes of glass in there."

"Thank you."

"I'll come by and fix it tomorrow." he picked up his fork again, eating. I had barely touched my food, my stomach was rolling.

"7:00?" I suggested.

"Absolutely. Are you finished?" he gestured to my plate, untouched.

"Yes," I said, getting up, reaching into my dress pocket for a few coins.

"Don't worry," he said, tossing a few on the counter. "Let me walk you over, I need to get the parcel anyway."

"Alright," I said, the corners of my lips twitching into a tiny smile as we walked out of the pub.