Chapter Thirty #2
Oh, the storm that was brewing between her and Father as they stared at each other.
She’d embarrassed him, but it was only fair for the embarrassment he’d caused Mr. Gobel.
Nora welcomed whatever maelstrom broke loose when Mr. Gobel left.
She deserved to have her choices respected, and Ezekiel—not some man who was one walk through the woods away from becoming a meal—was her choice.
“I think it best I take my leave. The meal was delicious, and I thank you for your hospitality.” Mr. Gobel rose from his seat with said delicious meal untouched.
He paid her a great kindness in calling her poor behavior hospitable. He deserved better than Father’s machinations and her sharp tongue.
“I am sure you will make a fine husband to the right woman. Unfortunately that woman is not me. Feel free to illuminate your colleagues if my father does not.”
He nodded and left the kitchen.
Father glared at her and scrambled after his colleague making his apologies and claiming a misunderstanding about her being attached.
Heat roiled through her at the shared humiliation of tonight’s supper.
The kitchen was too hot, but going to her room required her to pass by both Mr. Gobel and Father.
The Guardians had warned her to stay inside unless with one of them, but she needed a moment of escape and coolness before she faced what was sure to be an explosive argument.
The courtyard gates would be locked and all her neighbors inside.
It was too dark and cold for anything but a short respite.
Nora would have the privacy she needed to collect herself, and the coolness would do wonders for helping her to think straight.
To be safe, she grabbed her steak knife from the table.
After unlocking the back door, Nora stepped onto the crumbly stoop.
Ezekiel had insisted he would fix it soon, but she’d made him promise to wait until after he’d finished composing the operetta.
Still, the reminder of him was another reason not to regret thwarting Father’s scheme.
Ezekiel was a good man. Father would like him if he’d only give him a chance.
Light from the various kitchens cast rectangles along the brown grass, and the rooster stood in one rectangle, glaring at her for daring to disturb his precious hens.
Nora pulled the door closed behind her and leaned against it.
“That was quite the row, wasn’t it?” Adler’s voice came from the shadows next to her. “I feel for the poor turkey. Mr. Gobble, wasn’t it?”
No. Not him. She fumbled for the knob behind her so she could retreat back inside, where Father would witness the attack of Adler the man or Winston the hallucination.
“Ah, ah, ah. We’re not finished talking.” He moved from the shadows into the light cast by the kitchen and captured her wrist above her knife-wielding hand. “What’s this? You think you can get rid of a hallucination with a knife?”
She smashed a fist into the side of his face.
He rubbed his jaw, snarling. “So you want to play rough, do you?” He slammed her by the throat against the door at the same time he twisted her wrist until pain spiked up her arm.
The knife clattered onto the step.
He stretched for it, keeping the controlling pressure at her throat intact.
The divided attention was just the opening she needed to use her hands and a foot to push from the door.
Adler lost his balance and stumbled over the step. Her legs tangled in his sprawled ones and she fell forward, half landing on the angry rooster.
Great squawks and flapping feathers assailed her as she pushed to her hands and knees.
Before she could gain her feet, Adler’s full weight pinned her to the ground.
Nora hoped the territorial fowl would decide to launch his own attack on Adler, but the bird must have realized the wisdom in running from such evil.
A sharp tip pressed through the material at her back and scraped against her skin. “Try to jerk up or throw me off, and this knife will slice through to your lungs and heart. Scream, and I’ll do it anyway.”
Nora turned her head to the side. “Why not just kill me now?”
“Too quick, and we’ve been waiting too long not to enjoy this properly.”
A shiver skittered down her spine, the slight jerk resulting in more pressure against the knife’s tip.
“Do you want a hole in your lung before we even begin?”
“No.” She needed to stay hole-free if she had any hope of calling for help and escaping.
“Good. I want to savor this moment.” His hand dug into her hair and tugged.
Though her neck tilted up, Nora pressed the rest of her body as tight against the ground as possible.
“Stand up! And don’t think that just because you can’t feel the knife that it’s not ready to pierce your lung.”
The knife pulled away, and he lifted her to her feet by her hair.
“Now walk forward.” The point dug into her back again.
It was an awkward march with his hand tugging her head back and she arching away to avoid the knife’s tip scraping against her skin.
When they reached the corner of the courtyard, he commanded her to lower to her knees.
She obeyed, careful not to drop so fast the knife gave her dress a new opening.
Once there, he released her hair and shoved her to the ground.
“And now the show begins.”
The crunch of winter grass indicated he walked away from her.
The fool thought by having taken her knife that she was unarmed.
Nora yanked the knitting needles from her pocket.
They weren’t sharp and they couldn’t pierce an abundance of material, but there were plenty of soft spots on the neck and face they could jab.
She scrambled to her feet and spun to face Adler a stone’s throw away.
With all the power of her musical training, she belted out a scream for help.
Adler launched something in his hand through the air. The window to Mrs. Reed’s kitchen shattered.
The door flew open. Light illuminated Adler’s devil grin and glinted off the knife he, once again, held ready to strike.
“Good gracious, Miss Davis! What is the meaning of throwing rocks at my window!” Mrs. Reed demanded. “Wait, what are you doing?”
Adler lunged at Nora before she could process Mrs. Reed’s role in this show.
Nora dodged, bringing her knitting needle at a downward angle as he passed. It missed his neck and skidded down his jacket until it caught a hole. The sudden stop jolted the needle from her grip.
“Miss Davis! Stop! He’s trying to help you!”
Help me die, maybe.
Adler turned and lunged again.
Make that definitely.
This time the knife arced around from the side.
He was too close to dodge, so she dropped flat to get below the swing. Nothing sliced her, so she must have been fast enough, but his forward momentum sent him flying over the top of her and skidding across the ground.
Light flooded the area as other neighbors flung open their doors.
Mrs. Reed screamed. “What have you done?”
Nora pushed up as the woman ran past her.
Adler rolled over, exposing a face screwed into pure agony. His hands clutched the hilt of the knife embedded in his stomach as he writhed. Mrs. Reed fell to her knees next to Adler, her hysterical cries calling Nora a crazed murderess.
All around Nora, voices shouted.
Someone ran out the open gate as women surrounded Mrs. Reed. The looks of accusation and fear they directed at Nora made no sense.
“He attacked me! I was defending myself!”
They knew her. She would never intentionally hurt someone otherwise.
“Lies! My brother came out to help you, and you attacked him!” Mrs. Reed broke into racking sobs that belonged on a stage, for they were no more genuine here than they were there.
“He was trying to kill me!”
The women on either side of Mrs. Reed exchanged glances.
“That’s what her mother said when she attacked that man, remember?”
“She isn’t mad too, is she?”
“Madness runs in the family. It was only a matter of time.”
Nora went cold. This was the show Adler had been talking about. A staged public display of insanity. Was he even really hurt by the knife? The blood sure looked real. And his face was ashen and contorted.
“Nora? What’s happened?” Father’s voice trembled behind her.
Mrs. Reed rose to her feet and staggered toward Nora. “Your daughter just stabbed my brother.”
“But I didn’t! He was attacking me and fell on the knife. I’m not crazy. He wanted to kill me.” She looked around, but everywhere she looked, doubt, pity, and fear met her. She turned to Father. He would know. He would understand. “He’s Winston, and she’s Ursula!”
“Listen to her. She’s even imagining us as different people.” Mrs. Reed drew their neighbors in with her lies.
Father wrapped Nora in a protective hold when Mrs. Reed strode closer, shaking an accusatory finger.
“I knew you were mad when I saw you this morning. Talking to the air and claiming there was someone out your window when there clearly was no one there. And now this! There was no one out here but you. You were yelling at the air, claiming someone was trying to kill you. You were fighting the air with a knife and those”—Mrs. Reed waved her hand at the remaining knitting needle in Nora’s hand—“sticks. Adam only wanted to help you, to calm you down. And you stabbed him!” She turned into the nearest neighbor as another round of racking sobs shook her body.
“That’s not what happened!” A glance around revealed not one person except Father believed her. She tried again. “That’s not what happened.” Her words died on a whisper, taking with them the hope of ever being believed.
Father hugged her tight. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t you worry. We’ll sort out the truth.”
Except when the police arrived, they didn’t believe her either. Nora’s knitting needles, the steak knife, Mrs. Reed’s testimony, and Nora’s own declaration of Adler being Winston and Mrs. Reed being Ursula condemned her. Before the police carted her off in handcuffs, Mrs. Reed stopped them.
In a move that appeared magnanimous to the naive, Mrs. Reed proclaimed her forgiveness in a loud voice, but when she leaned in to give Nora a compassionate hug, she whispered, “Your torture has just begun, Eleonora. I’ll see you soon at Longview.”