Episode 21:In his shack

 

‘It’s that ugly woman…again’ thought Connor.

It was the third day since she made her unwelcomed invasion of his sacred sacred shack.

In more ordinary circumstances, he would have welcomed her voluntary measures to come see him. It is just that her actions are causing him to arrive at a conclusion: she is not coming to his shack to see “him.”

Connor wondered what kind of relationship Michaela must have with someone as radiant as Gale. Just a few days ago, Connor was quick to classify her as an “ugly woman,” not being able to draw any sort of appreciation from her physical features–she was too skinny and small, reminding him of a mouse and to say that her bust was of modest size was an understatement. And of course, there were her features that were interesting, but that is it. Her dark eyes set in her tiny face, above her plump cheeks and her small flat nose were ‘interesting,’ ‘peculiar,’ but not ‘pretty.’ And the way she dressed in dull khaki green or grey or brown and had her hair hidden underneath her cap made her face look very quaint. But then Connor had always fancied lanky haired girls with fair cheeks like damask roses and eyes like glass, and he is only turning seventeen this winter.

 

So far, he has been receiving mails from the magistrate who called himself “Schwartz,” informing him of his current investigation into the apothecary owner, Gale Hulder and his reputation in Fullgreens. So far he didn’t tell him his first name. He even wondered if “Schwartz” was really his surname.

In the letter, Schwartz wrote ‘This man has an undeniable advantage when it comes to resolving his grudges…through poisoning’

After burning the letter in his tiny fireplace in the backyard, he thought,

‘So, so far, this shady magistrate is doing everything he could. I guess I should be grateful that he is so outgoing in his quest to uncover what’s behind my father’s death…But,’

After he watched the letter turn into ashes and the smoke rising, he peered inside the opened door of his shack, shooting a rueful gaze at the the Asian woman who was staring intently at something in the corner, unaware of or perhaps just indifferent to his presence.

He remembered asking magistrate Schwartz how he was possibly going to win the trust of such a woman in person, and after momentarily seeming to be in deep thought, he raised his eyes,

“Give her…food?”

Right then and there, Connor knew that when it comes to approaching her, he was on his own.

Calling out to Connor who seemed clearly irritated, Schwartz said, “Usually works,” and after he slammed the door, he fidgeted his hands, murmuring, “Food.”

Connor shook his head, his dark curls swaying, in order to expel the memory of the magistrate’s unexpected obtuseness. Now standing in front of the door, he was able to comfortably observe her from the corner of his eyes, because she was too obsessed with that furry thing to even be civil or even acknowledge his gracious acceptance of her sullen demands.

‘In hindsight, it was smart of me to get the rabbit. But now all she does is stare at that creature.’

After patting himself on his back, he remembered the first time she approached him. It was around two in the afternoon of the day after the flea market. He just had a late lunch, and he preferred to have it in his cool shack that acts as both his place of retreat and storage room. He also kept the caged rabbit in the midst of his salt, oil, and tool supplies and his spare wood and coal. When he is working in his stall, he puts the caged rabbit in clear sight for any prospective buyer, but when he stays at his shack for an extended period of time, he takes it with him in case of theft. As he just enjoyed his biscuit and cheese where there isn’t the sight or smell of blood, he heard a slow but distinct sound of knocking. Brushing the crumbs off his mouth with his forearm, he rose and opened the door to look down at his most unexpected visitor.

‘I mean, I hoped for it, but I didn’t think she would actually come…everyday’

Then began their discomforting tradition of him letting her come into his shack, quickly glancing around to see if there were anyone around, shutting the door as soon as she entered,

The second day she made her visit, he tried to conceal his shock at her impertinence and casual indifference to getting caught, a suspicious unmarried woman of a race not familiar to most people in New England, coming inside the private abode of a man who has yet to make it a week since he came town. Also there was his father. He wondered, is she just brazen or just out of her wits?

At first he allowed himself to think that it was rather adorable of a grown woman to be so interested in seeing a rabbit. But upon close scrutiny, he couldn’t shake the weird, disturbing idea that perhaps her reason for soliciting to be near the rabbit was not out of tender attachment for a desirable furry pet as he expected. What actually seemed to manifest in her piercing eyes was, perhaps, an unhealthy, twisted obsession with seeing a locked, helpless creeter.

‘Well, whatever is the reason she keeps wandering around my butcher shop.’

For now, he has to let her to visit his shed all the time, anytime she wants, regardless of whether it is convenient for him or not, even if he finds her silence and beady eyes a bit irksome. Even when he first opened the door to her, she communicated with her eyes, peering beyond him at the cage, shifting her eyes at him, her dark shiny orbs that reminded him of a doe’s, asking for entrance.

But the next day, he was peeved, so peeved to learn that her “doe-y eyes” was just a ploy to grant her access and later when he blocked her way in order to get her to at least thank him, she dared to ask him why he was in the way, again without saying a word but just with her eyes. When he stood, gaping in shock, having never been so brutally ignored even by his step sisters, she passed by him to crouch over the cage.

While these unpleasant memories of the past three days reared their ugly head, she finally rose. When he saw her standing, giving the cage one last look before leaving, his face lit up, his pouting mouth spread into a congenial smile and the look of childish annoyance dispelled as if it never grazed his sweet, innocent face.

“Oh, you’re going?”

‘Of course, she is going…finally!’ He can almost yell in elation.

As he quickly made way, even gallantly extending his arm that pointed toward outside, she moved but then paused. She slightly tilted her body toward a surprised Connor, her hands fidgeting her tiny brown pouch tied to the band of her apron, her eyes cast down on the floor.

As he looked down at her light pink lips were twitching as if she wanted to tell him something then her eyelids, he thought

‘I didn’t realize before because she was so weird…but…her lashes are longer than I expected.’

Somehow the knowledge made him unconsciously shuffle his feet, a slight movement that would only be visible to her if she didn’t seem so deeply troubled by her thoughts.

Finally the strange woman said “I” in a rushed voice, as if she wanted to say something badly, but she glanced sideways at the door, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he thought there was a brief but distinct agony in her usually calm and collected eyes. A lot might suspect that she was simply unable to hide her clumsy, bashful nature in front of such a dreamy eyes with green eyes. However, to Connor, she didn’t look like a blushing woman playing out her cards by being purposefully coy. She seemed as if she was barely containing a deep struggle.

Then blurting out a hasty word of courtesy, something like “good day,” she hurriedly left, living Connor alone in his shed.

Bafflement and subtle annoyance replaced his surprise as he stared her vanishing form, making him murmur,

“What was that for?”

Making an upside down smile, he shrugged and approached the cage. The heavy set, sedentary rabbit was nothing interesting to look at, except from a very practical point of view–quality hide and meat. He wondered what about the rabbit caught her attention so much.

Opening the lid, he tossed in some extra dry alfalfa, and one of the questions that plagued him while he stared at the immobile animal was

‘If she wanted to buy it, what was she waiting for?’