Page 25 of Fragile Wicked Things
Rochester shifted in his chair, and looked first at Catherine and then the others. "The African race is a rubber ball.The harder you dash it to the ground, the higher it will rise.'"
India looked at him with a quizzical stare.
"African Proverb," Rochester explained, which seemed to exasperate India—her mouth fell open and she became flustered.
"Good God, what kind of school did you attend to pick up African proverbs?" Lewellyn said with a laugh.
"Life," Rochester said.
"When I was ten, we were caught in a most hateful riot. It frightened me. Do you remember that, Edward?" Catherine said.
Her words concerned me. I wondered if she was becoming forgetful and whom she thought she spoke to when she asked Rochester that question. He never answered, but didn't correct her either. An awkward silence fell, which India filled by drawing everyone's attention back to me.
"Well, Jane, educated or not, you must have some talents that you can show us afterwards. Do you play?"
"I assure you she does not," Rochester answered for me, which annoyed me.
I was confused by his behavior that night—how he could bestow an act of kindness on me, ask for forgiveness, and then ignore me in the presence of everyone. His flirtation with me may have been meaningless, and tonight he illustrated that if he chose someone to marry, it would be someone like India.
"Please don't speak for me, Mr. Rochester." This caught him off guard, and he stared at me. At least I had his attention. "I don't play any instrument, sing, or paint. My talents are compassion, patience, and selflessness, qualities required to care for people."
"I quite agree," Catherine said.
"Such are the qualities of a nun," Rochester said. "I wonder if it is a religious habit you'd feel more comfortable in rather than that dress. I'm afraid you're turning a hue of red, Jane."
His comment hurt me to my core, and made me feel like a child playing dress-up for the adults. I took a short breath and fought back tears. "Does my embarrassment amuse you, Mr. Rochester?"
His mouth fell open but no words escaped him. He turned away to avoid looking me in the eye as I did him. "Not at all. Again, I must apologize for my behavior."
"I seem to bring out the worst in you."
Rochester turned to me then and whispered so that I alone could hear. "It is I who brings out the worst in myself, having sacrificed my soul at the devil's altar."
His eyes penetrated mine, and I saw something in them that concerned me, something that tormented him. But those were the last words of any significance he spoke to me that night. What followed was talk for the sake of politeness without having to say anything of any importance. The Roths were about to embark on a trip to Europe in the new year, although I wasn't sure why they were going since they didn't seem to have enjoyed their last trip abroad. Everything had been "dreadful" according to Lewellyn, from the lack of society down to the food. Europeans lacked hospitality and couldn't be compared to the Southern one, Lewellyn opined. Having read much about Europe, I knew many details about the continent, and I was sure that nowhere had it ever been described as "dreadful." Not the food, not the wine, not the art.
Having tuned out Lewellyn, my interest wasn’t piqued until he was halfway through a sentence. "…they’re sisters, twins actually, and no one has seen them for quite some time. Disappeared on their eighteenth birthdays."
"Oh, how dreadful," said India.
Lewellyn continued, "Of course, the police don’t suspect foul play. There were signs of an animal attack. Quite gruesome. Their blood-stained personal belongings were scatter about by the roadside, but no bodies."
Rochester turned to Lewellyn. "Animal attack?"
"Oh, no more talk of such ghastly stories," Mrs. Roth said.
"Why do they suspect an animal attack if there are no bodies? What have the police found?" Rochester seemed determined to get answers.
Lewellyn ignored his mother-in-law, saying, "Turns out, they’re not the only ones to have disappeared. There was a similar disappearance outside Jackson, Mississippi involving a married coup?—"
"—Oh, heavens, no more," Mrs. Roth said, louder this time. "Let’s only speak of pleasant things."
Rochester fidgeted in his chair, and a shadow came over his face. He was lost in his thoughts and didn’t hear India speak to him.
"Are you attending the New Year's Eve Masquerade Ball?" I overheard her ask Rochester a second time.
"I don't dance," he said without looking her way.
"Catherine, help me persuade your grandson to attend. It will be a grand affair. The Greers are going and you know they only appear at balls of a certain stature," Mrs. Roth said.
