A tale tall

Red

The red parasol set off her creamy skin and grey eyes. And walking under the summer sky, she looked pretty as a picture. Tonight she would make her debut in upper class society, she was turning eighteen and the thought of the party terrified her.

She was walking across the Saturday market with her nanny, who had been with the family since her oldest sister was born twenty five summers ago. They were looking for silken sashes that the seamstress forgot to buy for her dress. She was sent to run the errand because they knew she was always particular about her clothes and they didn’t want to buy the wrong color.

She folded her parasol and went inside the canopied nursery that housed plants of varied origins; some came from the Deep South, others from the farthest corners of the East.

She was looking at purple and yellow and spotted orchids when she came face to face with him. He was a merchant; he made wines and cheeses in his farm and vineyards north of the town.

His heart skipped a beat, he never imagined in his thirty six years he would get this close to the female he has admired since he first saw her walking home in short skirts from school. She was just fourteen then, and he knew he would never be given the opportunity to court her and make her his wife. She belonged to the ruling class and he was a lowly trader, a working class man who had no material comforts to promise his future wife.

He found her enchanting; she had a grace that not even the nun-run school she attended could teach. It was intuitive as a panther is born with its slinky demeanor. She did not walk, she floated on the ground. She had the habit of running her hands through her hair and it did things to him he never imagined possible in this lifetime.

She came away from the nursery with a pot of tea roses, borne by her nanny in her sturdy arms.

She smelled of rosewater and he wondered if the plant would be used to make the water which perfumed her person.

He followed her, not on his own volition, it seemed. She skipped to the dry section of market, where trinkets from four corners of the world were sold. Silver mirrors, gold jewelry, copper kettles, all manner of bags and textiles and figurines and brushes and ribbons made a menagerie of merchandise in this part of the market.

He wanted to buy everything she touched. He wanted to feel how her finger tips feel if only through the things she came in contact with.

Her name was Lianna, that much he knew and she bore the surname of the family that ruled this small island principality tucked in the latitudes where the East met the West. She is a bright student. He knows because one night he bribed a gang of hooligans to break into her school and steal her test papers and notebooks. She got good marks and was a diligent and well read pupil. You could tell by the breadth of words she used to answer the questions on her exams.

She loves strawberries, for when they are in season, he would watch her come to the market with her posse of servants purchasing kilos and kilos of the fruit that she sometimes ate right there without washing them. He has paid a small fortune to servants in her household to give him information, anything and everything, about the object of his affections.

She likes to bathe at night in a hickory tub filled with aromatics and warm water. Her long hair is always carefully groomed and is never allowed to sway loose whenever she is out. But in the bedroom, as he saw with his binoculars through her window, she does not plait it for sleep. It hangs loose up to the small of her back like a copper curtain. It stirred his loins in a manner he knew was improper, especially since she seemed so distant.

He is invited to her coming out party, for even though he belonged to the merchant class, his family has warranted enough respectability in society to earn them the right to consort with the nobility of the island. He sent his RSVP the day after the invitations were sent out and chose his party ensemble soon after. To say that he was excited would be an understatement.

Carriages lined the generous driveway of the palatial mansion Lianna lived in on the night of her debut. The ballroom sparkled with lights, which were reflected on the flatware, stemware and cutlery. An sixty piece orchestra, that came from across the ocean played music that mimicked the sea’s movements. Everybody wore finery, borrowed or otherwise, as if parties like hers happened everyday.

He would be introduced to her later on, along with the multitude of single men and women who will be presented to her as potential friends, playmates, and lifelong mates. Of course, he knew, he could never belong to the latter category. The most he could hope for is to be allowed in her orbit for her amusement.

After a procession of three hundred forty two males, his turn came to face her and to have her say his name, Auguste, to his face thrilled him. But as he was to step forward and take her hand in his to kiss, a shot from a revolver rang out. The bullet pierced her heart and his blood ran cold, as if he was the one who was shot.

He saw her collapse on the floor and he saw the crimson blood flow from the wound that left a hole in her heart.

He thought, this can’t be. We’re not even friends yet. I have so much to show you! You can’t die. Don’t die, my darling angel, don’t die!

The guards caught the miscreant who harmed her, but they all knew taking his life would not bring back her own.

Emboldened by the crisis, Auguste came forward to Lianna, and kissed her mouth, willing his breath to jumpstart the air in her lungs. He prayed as he kissed her, bring her back, bring her back. She is so young, it wouldn’t be fair. Please if You’re listening, don’t break my heart. I haven’t even gotten to know her yet.

Everyone gasped, as the blood that issued from Lianna’s wound flowed back into her body and the bullet in her heart was expelled and pierced her attacker’s heart. Her wound closed and he knew she was alright, finally when he felt the warmth of her breath on his nose.

He was to let her go, but she held him fast in her arms, tangling her fingers in his hair. They kissed for a few minutes, to catcalls and cheers from those who witnessed it.

She was out of breath then, and her eyes were alight with mirth when she let him go. He stood up and helped her get up. Her dress was unstained. She did not let go of his hand the entire evening. She danced with him, taught him how to, for he never bothered to learn.

Before the party ended, she asked him to meet her in the courtyard by the fountain.

“Wait for me, I just have to ask someone something,” she instructed him.

Her eyes were shining when she met him, with what he hoped was love.

She told him, you have my father’s permission to pay me court.

It was more than he hoped for. He jumped up and down with joy.

“But if you ask me, I’d rather elope,” she said with a wink. “I know you, you know. Nana knows you’ve been sniffing around me for the longest time. She set my father’s spies on you to make sure you won’t harm me. It was her idea to invite you to my debut.”

He was speechless. The tables, for once, were turned on him and he never felt so good.

“I don’t just love that you love me. I know all about you, how you work hard, how you love your family. I know everything!” she was as giddy as the schoolgirl she no longer was.

He finally found his voice. “Okay then. I’ll give you one night to really think about this. If you really see me as a potential husband, send me your red parasol tomorrow. Then, I will come to your father to ask for your hand in marriage.”

It was the first thing she did the following morning; send him her red parasol at daybreak.