The flame of the last match finished scarring my fingers- I was hoping that my fingerprints would no longer be recognizable. Amelia couldn’t walk any further through the lush brush, and I put her on my back where she bounced like a doll. The buzz of the crickets filled the night, both piercing my ears and reminding me that I was still alive, still responsible, still under panic. We were lucky it was summer- in the winter it would have been too cold to hide out in the Danish countryside, and this countryside was wealthy. Long driveways, private citadels, tennis courts, and personal forests separated the houses. Most of the lights inside the houses were off, but the lamps outside the houses glowed and the lawns sparkled with fresh dew without a care for utility bills. The tops of windows glowed with blue and violet, and I came up to a house with thick spires and a thatched roof.
Amelia’s eyes had rolled into the back of her head. I knew that for an adult, food without seven days could cause brain injury, but for I wondered if for a child, it might happen sooner, especially with all the rugged sleeping we’d done. I never thought of myself as very wealthy, but compared to sleeping on the street with your seven-year old as your only line of defense against possible rapists, the shithole apartment we shared in Flensburg with that phony asshole was luxury.
One driveway was lined with cars. As I got closer, the buzz of crickets was overtaken by the sound of a party. There was a white gazebo on the side of the house, the rows of white chairs tilted and scattered- the ceremony was finished, and I had a flicker of hope- I could leave Amelia under a tree, enter the party as a guest, take food, and bring it back to her.
There was one purple dress in my bag, and I hadn’t worn it since before Amelia was born. As I slipped it on I thought about how simple it is for women to look fancy- just one piece of fabric, the right show of skin, color on the lips, and right away, my body was broadcasting, “Woman! Woman!”
Amelia, limp, unfolded under a tree and I covered her with leaves. She didn’t move, except for the rhythmic inflation and deflation of her round cheeks. She forgave me.
The house had a tall gable roof, the attic window open, and a tree right next to it, the branches like staircases. If I didn’t have the purple dress, I would’ve used that tree to sneak in, I thought. That was my mind going on overdrive in stealth mode, and I wasn’t going to have to do that anymore. Down the driveway, the valet boys were looking at me, and they motioned me toward the arched entrance. It was like walking into a glass of champagne- the walls sparkled, the marble floor reflected gold light. I kept trying to remind myself that rich people weren’t necessarily evil, they were just rich, and these were the first human beings to lay eyes on me since I killed Johannes.
Cheeses were daintily presented in tiny platters. I took a block, then three, until I suddenly felt like I’d become a large cheddar cheese. I held onto two more and was about to make a run for it, out to find Amelia, when a warm hand pressed into my upper back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make the rounds sooner,” he said. “We want to thank you for coming. Really, it means a lot to us.” I was caught. My head felt like it had been hit by a frying pan, and I clenched the cheese in my palm.
“Julia’s always been talking about her cousin from Salzburg, and here you are finally.”
I almost laughed I was so relieved. I did laugh, a wicked, wild laugh that exploded from inside my chest. I thought I would scare him, but the man came closer to me, like nothing I could do would disgust him.
After the party he showed me the guest room, and I couldn’t imagine what luxury I had. But every minute ticked loudly with my pulse, like my face was throbbing, as I thought about Amelia. I had to get out to her, and bring her back in here. I laid in bed and thought for a while- I was trapped in the best place I could have possibly ended up in- a warm room, a comforter with floral print, a billowy mattress- and I needed to get out to drag her back in. The house had an alarm, and I knew that if I opened the front door the whole house would wake up, but then I remembered. The window in the attic.
I went to the top floor, and when I opened the door, I was overwhelmed with the smell of freshly sanded wood. The whole room was made with wooden planks- blond birch lined the floors, the angled walls, and framed the skylights. The room was younger than the rest of the house, like a recent addition, not yet creaky. The window was, faithfully, still open. I leaned over the frame, ready to step onto the roof and hop to the branch, when a light knock awoke me. I turned around, and saw a figure sitting in a chair, leaning against a thick wall post. His facial features were not easy to decipher in the shadows- it was like his body had been smeared over by a black pastel crayon.
“Johannes?” I said, even though I was pretty sure Johannes was dead. After all, I’d killed him.
“No,” a familiar voice said. It was the groom, the charming bravado of the evening replaced by somberness.
“Oh,” I said cheerfully, compensating for his sudden lack of frills, “Taking a break from the nuptial sex?”
He didn’t respond and I wondered if maybe he didn’t know what the word “nuptial” meant, but he did. “What have I done?” he said. “This was all a very expensive mistake.”
I came closer to comfort him- after all, even though I’d had to kill Johannes, it didn’t mean I was a cold bitch. I kneeled down next to him, and to my surprise he dove down from the chair, holding onto my arms, pulling his wet face into my collarbone.
“Can you forgive me? For what I’ve done to your cousin?” “Yes,” I said. He fell to the floor with a wave of relief, and the color came back to his face. I eyed the window. “I need to go outside,” I said.
He didn’t hear me. He sat up and abruptly kissed me, full force. The sleazy son-of-a-bitch, and yet, I liked it. He moved his hand under my jawline and touched my face, he made me feel completely free from rationality, and when our lips unchained, I thought about how this was a really awful time to be meeting my soul mate. My daughter was starving in the brush.