The Immortal American

  ~*~

  Later, in bed with my sister, she conveyed how frustrated she was that Mother was trying to sway her affections away from her fiancé. After everything that Jacque had said during dinner, I actually did listen to her. I was gladdened to do so. It relieved my pacing mind. I tried to provide comfort, and told her I would speak with Mother myself in the morning, and remind our mother that just because some of the redcoats weren’t busy didn’t mean that all of them weren’t drilling.

  But when Hannah fell asleep, I was left with my own whirling thoughts. I was certain that Jacque was jesting about making me into a spy. I wasn’t worried about that. I wasn’t even worried that France was willing to pay for the colonies to strike up against their mother country. I wasn’t worried about Hannah after she fell asleep. Perhaps I should have been. She was my younger sister who was looking to me for guidance. Only, I felt I had none to offer. I was obsessed with a man I wasn’t going to marry. But what I worried about, what kept me awake that night, was that I wasn’t alone in this infatuation.

  Jacque had folded each of his fingers around mine possessively while he was drunk, and mumbled about the cruelty of this earth before we departed. “. . . en vouloir à ce planète dès ça avoir à en vouloir vontre moi.”

  That’s what he whispered to my hand, saying his good night to me and that the planet had a grudge against him, and he would have a grudge against it. Strangely, just as I was fading into a restless sleep, I could have sworn he was with me in the very room where my sister and I slept. I sat up with a start and looked around the apartment. He wasn’t there. I knew he wouldn’t be. Nonetheless loneliness invaded my body when I couldn’t make out the form I hoped to be there.

  “What have you done to me?” I questioned the darkness. Settling back onto the feather bed, I closed my eyes and asked again, “What have you done to me?”

  I dreamt of Jacque whispering near my face, “Non, chér, que m’avez-vous fait?”

  What have you done to me?

  Chapter Eight: The Confession