Collection of Older Works

Flashbacks of a Fool: Chapter Sixteen

Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"

Genesis 3:1

 "This simply cannot be!"

Nathaniel smoothed his arm curiously as his mother continued, delving deeper into one of her usual and torturously dramatical diatribes. He was sure she was still speaking after her last comment but could not for the life of him surface to listen to the rant he was sure would continue for hours to come.  His arm was still eerily haunted by Annabelle's tight grasp though it had been long minutes since she'd reluctantly released him to take Logan to the dining room.

Recalling her hesitancy, a confused frown lined his brow. What on earth had prompted his bride's stark paleness and sheer terror? The cold fear that dilated her eyes into utter blackness struck him of the oddest but then in looking to his mother whose face was flushed with anger, he quickly agreed that Annabelle could not be blamed for her fear if indeed his mother was the cause. Had it not been for his immunity to his mother's normal terrifying presence, he was sure his reaction would have been very similar.  The blatant stare of disdain and disapproval of which he'd long since become accustomed to would without fail reduce Medusa to a crying shame let alone a barely recovered, weakened girl like Annabelle.  But he knew better and noted he had to reassure Annabell that his mother was a harmless creature.

Holding the drawing room door open, his mother brushed past him reddened with anger, refusing him a single glance though her new found silence screamed of outrage. A slight hot prickle tickled Nathaniel's neck, his irritation refusing to ease.   Tugging at his cravat, he surveyed the empty hall at whose end was the dining room with his wife and child.

His conscience offered 'Escape would be rather easy...'

Perhaps.  He could leave his mother be and spare himself the lecture at least until she calmed he debated while lazing at the doorway to the drawing room. He had not in fact yet entered; a speedy escape would be advantaged by that. But no, wishful thinking would settle nothing he agreed dreadfully.  Walking into the room and shoving the door shut, Nathaniel accepted he would have to deal with her sooner or later. If he left then, later would be much worse as it would only bring about further tears from his mother than the ones were on cue to fall upon his first word.

Cynically testing his theory, he said "Mother-"

"My nerves!" she bellowed, fainting upon a gilt chair, fanning herself feverishly, "You mean to kill me; surely you mean to rid yourself of me!" she gripped the arm rest, then pressed her open fan against her chest, "How will I ever eat? How will I ever sleep after suffering such cruelty! Such ghastly betrayal!"

Lord in heaven. The tears which Nathaniel expected from her began falling alarmingly. Tearing off her bonnet and thrusting it opposite her, she gasped for air, loud sobs breaking through each attempted breath. Appallingly, Nathaniel looked on. For the love of God, could she be serious? He groaned in frustration.  As if his mother had not been difficult before, the marriage seemed to have thrust her into other levels of difficulty--but she was after all his mother.

Clinging to forced calm, he rose his hand absently, "Calm yourself mother. Will the staff not think it odd that the woman whom was once my governess is so affected as if it had been her own son who'd wed behind her back? Perhaps some tea will help."

Gasping sharply, her hand extending expectantly in the air.  Certainly the extended hand was in wait for his kerchief to which she would then cry into for the remainder of their discussion leading Nathaniel to regret not having taken the speedy escape offered him before.  Resigning to his freedom for the time, he handed his mother the desired handkerchief, rang for tea then sat opposite her.