Pinnacle (ONGOING)

Chapter Five

     I was drunk on the atmosphere. On the fantasy that I was dancing with Michael Rhodes. Though I knew well that Mr. Wells was the sane party in the matter of the gentleman's infamy, I admit that I had been fighting the urge to beautify myself and attention grab for so long that my first taste of it had sent me over the realm of rational thought. Like where exactly Michael had been all of these years, and what he had been doing.

     "You look beautiful tonight, Sophie." Michael had said, stealing these questions from my lips.

     "Thank you." Was all I could say. Looking him in the eyes was hard enough, but touching his hand with every bob and weave we executed... My hands felt as if they were on fire.

     "You look well." I returned, unable to meet his eye.

     "Well?" He guffawed. 

     "Well..."

     "Baby steps, I suppose. It is not every day you dance with a beautiful wallflower and expect her to bloom just for you."

     Perhaps it was a banal sentiment, I thought. But it struck me in a queer way that I honestly could say nothing in response to. His eyes were deadly territory, and I resolved to look at his chest.

     "And now the procession falls silent." He remarked, jokingly. 

     It was just too much, his closeness, his continued berating of my silence. It took everything in my body to wait until the last twirl and bow to bolt from the dance floor.

     Michael coughed from behind me somewhere.

--Later that week--

     That Sunday, I slowly slid into the pew next to my elderly companion Lady Shaw.

     "Naughty girl, you're late!" She whispered tersely, batting me playfully with her fan and sporting her usual finery; Strikingly bold sapphire adorned her frock for the Lord's Day, coupled with her signature poorly applied rouge and face caked with powder. She was lively as usual in a sea of somber browns and greys.

     Her thin lips curled into a wry smile and without another second to spare, I was entertained to a dirty joke. Stumbling to recall the punchline she finished with; "Stick his bill up his arse!" with a cackle. 

     Mama batted me with her fan, side-eyeing me with disapproval.

     Many had conflict with Ms. Shaw for this reason. But I found only great endearment for her character. It was she alone who looked past my exterior of young and plain. There following, a few songs were heartily sung off tune and with wavering bravado by my elderly companion.

     "Now Sophia, you must give me your answer on whether or not you can spare some time to feed the hungry this week's end." Lady Shaw declared after the closing prayer was said. Her feathers fell forward from her plumed hat to tickle my nose as she shot me an especially targeted look.

     "I have a prior engagement, Lady Shaw, I apologize," I said, guiltily. Laying my palm over hers.

     "Well..." She huffed dramatically.

     "I suppose you came after all, and that is a blessing in itself." She patted my hand with a grin, but just as quickly, she took off determined in another direction after catching sight of the poor organist whom she tortured to no end.

     "Mrs. May!" She called from a distance.

     "I cannot get one word in! You must play slower."

     "Well, Lady Shaw, you lack bifocals despite your ability to wear them." She retorted tiredly. Not catching the humor.

     I heard faint exchanges as my parents, and I exited the chapel onto the quaint trail home. The trees were aflush with color and caught the light of the rising sun to its right. It sent the path into an array of kelly and gold.