Second Child (exerpt) by: John Saul

It was almost eight o'clock, and the girl peered at her reflection in the flickering light of the oil lamp that stood on the small table by her cot. She looked beautiful tonight-the white dress she'd been working on for two months fit her perfectly, and with its long sleeves ending in lacy cuffs, and the fifteen rows of tiny ruffles that covered its bodice, it looked almost like a wedding dress. Perhaps, indeed, it might be her wedding dress, except she was sure it would be bad luck to wear the same dress at her wedding that she'd worn at her first big party. But she could never afford another dress like this one- She stopped herself. Of course she could. After she married Joshua, she'd be able to afford anything she wanted. Surely he would buy her the material so she could make herself a wedding dress even more beautiful than this one. Her eyes wandered to the third finger of her left hand and the small gold ring set with a single perfect diamond that he'd secretly given her three months ago. "We won't tell anyone," he'd said. "We'll keep it secret until the ball. By then I'll tell my parents, and everything will be all right." And tonight, the night of the ball, they were going to make the announcement. She would stand beside him as he told all his friends that he'd fallen in love with her and was going to marry her. They'd be surprised-she knew that. But when they saw how happy Joshua was with her, they'd all gather around her, and suddenly she'd be a part of them. She checked her dress one last time, then blew out the lantern and left her room in the eaves of the mansion, making her way quickly down the back stairs. She was about to slip out the door when she heard the cook's voice speaking sharply to her. "And where do you think you're going?" The words made the girl freeze, but finally she turned to face the woman she'd worked for since she was fourteen. "To the ball," she said. The cook glared scornfully at her. "And what makes you think they'll let the likes of you into a place like that?" The girl smiled serenely. "They'll let me in," she said. "I've been invited." "Have you, then?" the cook asked, her skepticism clear in her voice. "Well, if I were you, I wouldn't pay any mind to what the boy around here tell you. They'll say whatever they have to to get into a girl's-" "Not Joshua!" the girl exclaimed, her face burning with embarrassment at the cook's insinuation. "he's not like that!" She scurried out the back door before the cook could say anything else, and hurried across the lawn to the beach, carrying her dancing shoes-the shoe's she's spent nearly a week's salary on-in her hands. She hiked up the skirt of the dress, determined not to let anything stain its hem, and started down the beach toward the bright yellow gaslights that glowed from the windows of the new clubhouse perched in the southern point of the cove. She came at last to the foot of the path leading up from the beach to the clubhouse, and stopped to put on her shoes. She waited for a few minutes, for it was here that Joshua had promised to meet her. Together they would walk up the path and enter the clubhouse, and people would know what had happened before Joshua even told them. In her mind she'd rehearsed the scene over and over again: Joshua, tall and handsome in his cutaway jacket, his arm protectively around her shoulders, his handsome features st determinedly as he announced to his friends that he'd decided to marry her. She had even imagined the disapproval she would see in their eyes for a moment, before they realized how much in love she and Joshua were. But when they saw, their disapproval would vanish and they would welcome her with open arms. A slight breeze came up, and the girl shivered, then looked around once more for her fiance. She looked at the watched tucked into her beaded bag and saw it was almost eight thirty. She was late. He must have already been here, and was waiting for her up above, in front of the clubhouse itself. She climbed the path, carefully holding her skirts well above the dusty trail. At last she reached the top and stopped to catch her breath. Now, through the windows, she could see everyone dancing. All the women in their beautiful dresses, their throats covered with beautiful necklaces, jewels dangling from their ears, sparkling with an almost unnatural beauty. And then, spinning out of the crowd, his arms around a beautifully pale girl in a dress the color of an emerald, she saw Joshua. He was smiling down at the girl, and she seemed to be laughing at something he was saying. Then he looked up and saw her. Instantly, she saw him recognize her and stop dancing, and she turned away from the window, hurrying toward the door, knowing he would be waiting for her just inside. She pushed the door open and stepped into the clubhouse, then crossed the foyer to stand in the immense double doors that opened into the huge dining room where the ball was being held. Joshua, still standing with the pale girl in the green dress, was staring at her. Then, slowly, the other couples on the floor stopped dancing and began to turn toward her as well. She paused, puzzled. Why wasn't Joshua coming over to her? Why was he just standing there, looking at her, his eyes looking... And then she knew. His eyes looked frightened. As if he hadn't expected to see her. He hadn't told his parents at all. She could hear the people around her murmuring among themselves now, and here and there a soft titter of laughter. Instinctively, her eyes locked on Joshua's, she started toward her finance. And then, miraculously, he came to life and started toward her. A moment later he was there and his hand was on her arm. "I have to talk to you," he said, his voice low, "In the kitchen." His fingers closing on her arm like a vise, he steered her across the room, weaving through the crowd, which seemed to draw back to let them pass. Then they were through the door, standing in the kitchen. The cooks and waiters, all of them in their uniforms, stared curiously at her. "Wha-What is it?" the girl murmured. "What's wrong?" Joshua licked nervously at his lips, and his eyes refused to meet hers. "I can't marry you," he said. "I talked to my father, and he said if I marry you he'll disown me." The girl gasped. This couldn't be happening-it was impossible. "I have to have the ring back," Joshua told her. He was holding her hand now, his fingers on the ring. It wouldn't come off. Jerking her hand away, the girl tugged at the ring, struggling to pull it off her finger. "Is that all it's about?" she demanded. "Just money? You told me you loved me. You told me-" She choked on her own words, her eyes flooding with tears. She pulled harder at the ring, but it seemed to have become part of her finger. Joshua, his eyes suddenly cold, was already turning away from her. "It's all right," he said, as if talking to a child. "Why don't you just leave? I'll get the ring tomorrow." And then he was gone, disappearing through the doors to the dining room, not even looking back at her. She stood stunned, staring at the door through which her lover had gone. It had been so easy for him-he's never cared about her, never! She struggled with the ring again, but it still refused to budge. But she had to get it off her finger-it felt like it was burning her! She had to get it away from her. Her eyes darted around the kitchen, and then she saw it. On a large chopping table only a foot away, there was a meat cleaver. A strabgled cry coming from her throat, she seized thr cleaver in her right hand, at the same time laying her left arm on the chopping block. The cleaver rose above her head, hovered for a split second, and then she brought it down. The razor sharp balde slashed through her left wrist, and she froze for a moment, her hand lying severed on the wodden table, blood spurting from the stump where her hand had been only a second before. As one of the kitchen girls screamed, she dropped the cleaver to the floor and picked up the severed hand. A moment later she pushed through the door into the ballroom. The dancing had started again, but she shoved her way through the whirling couples, her eyes scanning the crowd until she finally found Joshua. She stopped, waiting for him to turn. And then, at last, he saw her. His eyes widened slightly as he gazed at her blood drenched dress. And then, as she hurled her left hand at him, the hateful ring still on her third finger, he stepped backward. The hand struck his chest, then fell to the floor, his white shirt stained with crimson. As screams began to fill the ballroom, the girl fled, plunging out into the night. For her, the ball was over..... ALL DONE! HOPE YOU ENJOYED

true love hurts

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