Celestial Springs

Chapter 9-1

Chapter 9

1846

“How are you this afternoon, madam?” Hazel asked as she sat the supper plate down on the table near where Mrs. Edwards was sitting by the window.

“Good afternoon, Scarlet! I’m doing quite well,” she replied with a smile. “Isn’t it a lovely fall day? The air seems crisp, and the birds are chirping as they busily prepare for cooler weather. Oh, how I wish I could go out and join them. Do you think tomorrow I could go for a stroll? Down by the pier? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I was at the pier waiting when my husband came home?”

“Madam, I’m sorry, but I think you know such a thing wouldn’t be allowed,” Hazel replied, straightening the items on the table. “Besides, it is a bit windy out, and you’re liable to catch a cold.”

Her face fell in disappointment, but she heard a soft coo from the sleeping babe next to her and decided it wouldn’t be good for the baby to be out if the air was too chilly. “I suppose you’re right, Scarlet,” she began in a quiet tone, not wanting to wake the child.

“Madam,” Hazel interjected, dropping to her knees next to the woman in the chair. “Look at my eyes, madam. What color are they?”

With a wrinkled brow, she looked closely, and then after a moment of consideration she said, “Why, they’re hazel. I always thought you had green eyes, Scarlet.”

“That’s right. My eyes are hazel. And what color is my hair?” she asked gesturing to the bits visible around her cap.

Again, confusion flooded her pretty face. “That’s odd. Your hair looks… brown today.”

“It is brown,” she smiled, kindly. “And if my hair is brown, and my eyes are hazel, then my name isn’t Scarlet. My name is….”

“Oh, Hazel!” she exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing the woman kneeling next to her by the shoulders. “I’m so sorry! How did I not recognize you?”

“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Edwards,” she said, still smiling. “You will learn.”

As Hazel pulled herself to her feet, a thin hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a bit too forcefully. “But, Hazel—that’s not my name either,” she said in an eerie whisper.

Hazel froze. She’d been warned about this conversation, and she knew the answer she was supposed to give, but a wave of compassion overwhelmed her, and for a moment, she decided to listen without speaking.

“Everyone is always calling me that around here—Mrs. Edwards. Surely you know that isn’t my name? Why, I’m not even certain why they think it is.”

“Madam…” Hazel began, seeing the conversation taking a path she was not comfortable with.

“My name is Mrs. Hayes,” she said, her brown eyes staring at Hazel intently. “Or Ginny. My friends call me Ginny. And though you are a servant girl, you may call me Ginny if you wish. Or Mrs. Hayes. But please, stop calling me Mrs. Edwards. That is not my name.”

Hazel pulled on her arm, and it was released. “I’m sorry, madam. We were given clear instructions never to call you anything but madam or Mrs. Edwards, and though I would

like to honor your wishes, I’m afraid I must call you madam or Mrs. Edwards or else lose the only gainful employment I’ve been able to find these past six months. You understand, don’t you—madam?”

“But why?” Ginny asked, pulling herself to the edge of her seat. “Why does he insist on forcing you to call me something that is not my name?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know about that,” Hazel responded as she began to walk backwards toward the door. “Now, please eat your supper, and I shall be back shortly with your evening medication.”

“I hate taking that medicine,” Ginny replied, her shoulders slumping. “It makes me feel so… foggy, as if I can’t remember anyone or anything.”

“I’m so sorry about that, madam,” Hazel said, one hand on the doorknob, and she truly meant it. “But Dr. Grigsby has prescribed it to you, and I’m quite sure it must be taken or else both of us will pay the consequences. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be back shortly to check on you.”

“Very well then. Thank you, Scarlet.” Hazel cleared her throat, and brown eyes turned to look at her where she stood, still holding the doorknob. “I mean, Hazel. You are Hazel.”

“That’s correct, madam. I am Hazel. And I shall be back shortly.”

Once the door was secured behind her, Hazel hurried to the kitchen area where she had seen Joanna and a few others working on folding hand cloths earlier. Hazel had been there for only a few months and had gotten very few answers regarding Mrs. Edwards. She was told specifically what she could say and what she could not say. However, her own confusion and curiosity were beginning to get the better of her, and now was the time when she could hold back her questions no more.

She found Joanna and sidled her way in next to her, not wanting to interrupt the woman standing on the other side of the communal basket while waiting for a break in the conversation. After the woman finished her sentence, Joanna addressed her. “Hazel? What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be upstairs?”

Joanna was older. Her hair was a dark blond, her face beginning to wrinkle. She had been here a while, a long while, and she had a reputation for putting up with very little nonsense. Though she wasn’t necessarily a superior, she acted like one and was often treated accordingly. Therefore, Hazel had to guard her own fervor a bit and did her best to keep her tone light and her words nonchalant. “Yes, ma’am,” she nodded. “I was just in with Mrs. Edwards.” She surveyed the faces and immediately got a reaction from each of them, mostly of annoyance and disapproval, very few hints of concern or sympathy. “She said something… odd.”

“What else is new?” the woman who had been talking when she approached, Tilley, a rather loud, rather large, blonde woman, guffawed.

The others reacted with the same sort of laughter, and Hazel waited for them to stop before she continued. “Yes, I understand why you would react that way. But, she asked me to call her something different. She asked me to call her--Mrs. Hayes.”

Joanna dropped the towel she had been holding. “Hazel,” she began, looking her square in the face. “You have been here long enough to know the rules about Mrs. Edwards. First of all, we only call her Mrs. Edwards or madam, regardless of what else she wants us to call her.”

“We call her plenty of other things behind her back,” Tilley muttered, poking another woman standing next to her in the ribs, causing them both to giggle.

Joanna looked at them sharply and the laughter died. “Secondly,” she said, returning her focus to Hazel, “we never comment on any of the ridiculous subjects she asks for our opinion about. We never acknowledge what is or is not out the window. We never hold the baby. We never comment on when her ‘husband’ might be coming back, or if we’ve seen the ship. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I know all of that, it’s just that….”

“It’s just nothing!” Joanna exclaimed. She grabbed Hazel by the arm and pulled her a few steps away from the others. Leaning in closely, she said, “Hazel, he has given us very strict orders, and we must abide by them. Clearly, you are beginning to grow sympathetic towards her predicament. I suggest you stop before you end up unemployed and she ends up injured. Or worse.”

Hazel stared into Joanna’s intense green eyes, seeing nothing but a sincere warning there. After a nod that she did understand, Joanna released her arm. “Do you know more?” Hazel whispered.

Joanna sighed as if she couldn’t believe that her words were still falling on deaf ears. “What I know is not of your concern, Hazel. Your job isn’t to know. It’s to do. Bring the food. Bring the medicine. Change the sheets. Be pleasant if you can. Don’t ask, don’t comment. Do you understand, or do you need to have another discussion with—him?”

The warning was clearer that time, and Hazel stepped back over towards the doorway without averting her gaze. “I’ll just be getting her evening medicine,” she replied quietly.

“See that you do,” Joanna agreed.

“Or else, she might end up like the first Mrs. Edwards,” Tilley chimed in laughing.

Hazel’s eyes widened, and Joanna shushed her harshly. “Tilley! Watch your mouth!” she admonished, picking up one of the towels and striking her with it. The other woman, next to Tilley, stood in horror with her hands over her face. Seeing these reactions, Hazel took the opportunity to flee the room before Joanna could turn her attention back in her direction. She had no idea who—or what—Tilley was referring to, but it was clear she was going to get no further valuable information from any of those ladies, so she hurried on her way to take Mrs. Edwards—Ginny—her evening medication.

She wasn’t surprised to see her still sitting next to the window, rocking back and forth, but she was disheartened when she approached the table and saw that not a bite was taken from the supper plate. “Madam?” she asked quietly.

Ginny jumped, turning her gaze quickly towards the sound of the voice. “Oh, Scarlet! I didn’t hear you come in. You startled me.”

With a sigh, Hazel replied, “I’m sorry, madam. I didn’t mean to. Can you remember my name, madam?”

Brown eyes narrowed in on hazel ones, and after a brief moment, the confused expression lifted. “Oh, Hazel! How are you today? I haven’t seen you. Isn’t it a lovely day?”

“That’s right, madam. It is me—Hazel. I brought your supper a little while ago. Do you remember? We talked about how windy it is. Would you care to eat something before I take your plate? It doesn’t look as if you’ve even touched it.”

Glancing at the supper plate, and what appeared to be some sort of brown colored meat and a side she couldn’t quite discern, Ginny wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you, Hazel. I am really not that hungry this afternoon.”

“It’s evening, madam. Look, see the stars are coming out. The moon will be up soon,” Hazel pointed out as she took the supper plate in one hand and sat the medication down on the table with the other.

“Oh, the moon!” Ginny exclaimed. “Inconstant moon. You cannot trust that deceitful orb, you know, Hazel.”

While she was certain asking any questions was against protocol, Hazel could not help but want for clarification. “Why do you say that, Mrs.—madam?”

Her arms were crossed now, and the rocking had stopped. “Twice. It was only supposed to wane twice before Mr. Hayes returned to me. Now, it’s done so… at least a half a dozen times. Possibly more. I can’t even stand to look at it. I don’t bother to count on it, certainly don’t trust it. It shifts and changes however it likes with no regard to the minuscule individuals beneath its beams.”

“Well, then, perhaps you should be more comfortable if you retire to your bed for the evening? You do have a book on your nightstand. Maybe a bit of reading before bedtime?” Hazel asked, steering her away from the topic that was clearly upsetting her.

Ginny looked over at the book next to the bed. “I’ve read that book a dozen times,” she replied. “I would love to have another. Do you think that might be possible? Or—even better—some paper and a writing utensil. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to send a letter to my mother.”

“I’m sorry,” Hazel began, a hand on her shoulder, “you know that I’m not allowed to give you anything to write with. I wish that I could, but it is strictly f*******n. I will see about getting you a different book, though. Is there anything in particular you would like to read?”

After a moment of reflection, Ginny replied, “I should like to read the Bible.”

Hazel cleared her throat. The answer had caught her off-guard. “Well, I can’t imagine that would be against any rules. I will see what I can do. Now, please take your medicine,” she said, offering the cup. “And I will return to check on you once more before bed time.”