An Acquaintance with Darkness - Ann Rinaldi [88]
Was that man leaning against the wagon smoking a cheroot Robert? He had long gray hair, a shabby jacket, and a soft-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes. He stood up straight when he saw me approaching.
"Marietta?"
I made a sound of acknowledgment in my throat.
"Thank God. Are you all right? Where've you been all week? Dr. Bransby was worried. You haven't been sick, have you? I wanted to come 'round but couldn't get the time."
"I've not been sick."
"You sound like you are. What is it, your throat? I knew it. You shouldn't be out on a beastly night like this. Well, let's get it over with. I can see Potter's Field from here. I'll walk you up there. I understand it's a young man. The Wasting Disease. A good specimen, fresh. Since that brat of a niece of his let Addie go, he really needs this one. He was making such progress with Addie ... I can get this specimen right over to the lab tonight. It's a good thing about the hanging, in 3 way, don't you think? Everyone is up in arms over that. Maybe they'll leave us alone for a while." He took my arm "Here, just in case anyone's watching. You're grieving remember."
I felt the gentle strength of him supporting me. We walked like that for a few paces and then I tripped on the hem. If Robert hadn't been holding my arm, I'd have gone down. "Oh no!" I cried. I said it sharp and clear.
He stopped. Still holding my arm, he turned to look at me. "You're not Marietta." He said it calmly. Then he took the veil by its edge and lifted it from my face.
"It's you!"
"Don't be angry, Robert."
"By God!" He grabbed me by the forearms. "What in hell are you doing here? Are you crazy? Where did you get these clothes? This isn't a joke! We could get caught. Does he know you're here? Who sent you?"
All the while he was talking he was pulling me into the shadows of some high hedges. He still gripped my arms.
"Robert, you're hurting me."
"Explain," he said
"Marietta is sick. I went there with a note from Uncle Valentine. She couldn't come."
"He let you come?"
"No, he doesn't know I'm here. He went with Annie to the White House to beg for her mother's life. Then, after, to see his friend Dr. Mudd."
"Who gave you those clothes?"
"Marietta."
"Marietta would never consent to let you come, sick or not."
"I told her Uncle Valentine agreed to it."
"You little lying brat. You're trying to ruin us, aren't you?" He released me. He moved away like I was something not to be touched. "Those clothes were taken from a corpse, you know," he said. "Did Marietta tell you that?"
I felt a new sense of revulsion at the smell I'd been breathing in.
"That dress was worn by a dead woman! All the clothing we wear on these excursions is. That dress was in a grave. Removed from a cadaver."
He was angering me, trying to scare me like that. I tossed my head and rallied. "Well, I can't get squeamish now, can I?" I asked him.
I saw something come into his eyes, for just an instant. Some glint of admiration, quickly concealed.
"Robert, please." I tried to sound bored. "This is wasting everybody's time. I want to help. I can help. Marietta told me what has to be done and I can do it. Please, Robert, cooperate."
He waved his hands at me in disgust.
I thought quickly. "I'm here now, Robert. You can hate me all you want. But if we don't do this now, you'll lose this specimen. And nobody's paying attention tonight. Everyone's at the protest in front of the White House. Even Merry and Maude. They're all fixing on the hanging of Mrs. Mary. Marietta coached me. I know what to do. Then you never have to speak to me again. Or see me. As long as you live."
"That isn't long enough," he said.
I felt a great heaving sadness inside me. Did I still care for him, then? But there was no time for that now. I started walking away from him, down the street to the cemetery gate.
"Where are you going? You