The garden was in bloom and the only remnants of the rain were sun-lit flowers with tiny tears of glistening rain-drops that clung to the petals before letting go and falling endlessly to the damp ground where they disappeared forever. Chapter-13
Fourteen
Had she not have died in her sleep several months earlier, Charlotte’s mother would have thought the wedding was beautiful. Conrad had spared no expense and used the occasion, not only to display his new bride, but, as a showcase for his newly acquired status and as a venue to entertain prospective clients. Charlotte was radiant in her pure white dress that hugged her close and revealed her pureness of form while hiding the emptiness that she felt inside. Pete never returned to her and after her mother had died, Conrad seized the opportunity that her vulnerability had handed to him. His generous contributions convinced the Parson to persuade the elders to convince the ladies who suggested to the parishioners that Conrad would be a fine match for Charlotte. And the parishioners followed suit as they closed in around poor Charlotte and constricted her into the world that they had wanted her to have. So when Charlotte excused herself and vomited in the dressing room commode, the older ladies dismissed it, to the younger ones, as typical wedding day jitters.
The sanctuary was filled with acquaintances and well-wishers as the cathedral organ announced Charlotte’s presence. The congregation stood and watched as the beautiful Charlotte, escorted by a distant cousin, walked up the isle with her flowing white train being held aloft by two twin daughters of a parishioner. The Santos’: Orlando, Rosa and the boy, stood together in the finest clothes that they could not afford as Orlando would not let his wife and son be seen in any light other than how he saw them. Conrad stood at the front of the church and watched as Charlotte made her way to the altar. Charlotte held Conrad’s hands as he held them out to her. They exchanged vows and Conrad lifted Charlotte’s veil to kiss her and was overjoyed as he mistook her nervous smile and laugh to be one of happiness.
The wedding party posed for pictures then the couple walked hand in hand to the limousine that waited at the front of the church to whisk them away to the reception that was a decadent affair in reward for the parishioner’s accomplice, and, after the obligatory dance and toasts in their honor, the limousine then whisked them to an airplane that took them to a far away place where Charlotte’s dowry was plundered during the honeymoon ritual that was brutally preformed on her. Conrad now had Charlotte and Charlotte now had everything of nothing that meant anything to her.
After Charlotte had willed Conrad’s first seed to die in her womb, Orlando’s Rosa would help nurse the weakened Charlotte back to health. The two became close and inseparable friends. And after his third seed had died inside of her, Conrad’s actions toward her became harsh and nasty as he burnished her into a trinity of his own design: his quiet beauty who never misspoke, his mechanism for cathartic release, and the bearer of his rage. Charlotte would turn more and more to Rosa for solace as she suffered dutifully as everyone had expected her to.
Across From the Bayou: Copyright 2010 by Harold Robert Hunsaker
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