The Mystery of Margorie Walker, Page 4

  3. The Vanity’s Tears

  Mrs. Lefebvre

  The rain was pouring outside. The weather had not been well for several weeks. People in the town had gradually succumbed to the blues of such weather, never taking off those melancholy and doleful faces of theirs. It irritated her much, for she had never fancied her job and yet when the weather was bad, more and more people got sick and came to her. When they did, she always had to confront those annoyingly sad faces. It was as though the world had ended and everyone was dead.

  There was only one relief right now. That is- her husband was invited to the palace to help with the king’s mysterious disease. When he was not around, it would just indicate one thing- she could do whatever she wanted again. What she did was rather simple. The couple opened a small clinic in the village. It was small because they did not have much asset to start with. Let along her husband was so kind-hearted that he would never sell expensive medicine. The villagers relied on their clinic to cure their illness. In the beginning, she loathed it so much because the house was always filled with the sickening odor of medicine. Yet, her husband seemed to possess no special talents and skills but the right material for being a doctor. When he was out, she would try to earn some more from the sales. She raised the cost secretly and sold the medicine to the villagers at a much higher price. Indeed, her husband might find out when he returned but he never was the kind that could lecture his wife. He was more like controlled by her.

  Peeking out of the window, she smiled a pleased smile. The longer her husband was gone, the more the family could earn. The villagers might protest but they could not possibly help it, for it was the only clinic within hundred miles or so. Selfish, egoistic, irresponsible were people’s images of her. Nonetheless, she would rather claim money-oriented was her nature.

  She did not have a wonderful childhood to begin with. Being one of the victims herself, she had experienced how poverty made one suffer. Her family was awfully poor. Her father started a business once but ended up in bankruptcy. She nearly had to starve everyday without adequate food. Her parents were servants in noble family but it was not a happy life. They were usually exploited. She had five siblings to share her duvet and meal with. It was detestable and intolerable, so she thought. In her youth, she already dreamt of becoming rich one day, so that she could escape from her unfortunate fate. When she was in teens, she grew to be a very attractive and beautiful woman. She went through an amazing time in life once. Men from various districts came to court her. Their admiration became her vanity. Their money became her rewards. And their love became her greed. She was not yet satisfied with numerous boys around her. She wanted more. Yes, more. She had no intention to marry any one of them as she had seen a better way to earn herself a living. By relying on plenty of boys that loved her, she could gain so many benefits that one could hardly think of. They bought her presents, provided her with houses to live and gave her luxuries. Her life at once was filled with pleasure and worth.

  When she was twenty, she was the town’s most popular girl. She became a fine young lady. Her wealth was without doubt created by her admirers. She resided in an enormous cottage with several maids serving her. She lived the wildest life any other women could ever imagine. She went out with boys and benefited from pleasing them. She had learnt that when they were drunk or simply praised, they were more generous. Some people, indeed, found her behavior disturbing and disgusting. The elder might think she was acting more like a prostitute but she did not care. Her beauty betrayed her heart. She was far too hungry for money and she would not give a single notice to any words that disgraced her. In her mind, she only saw the good sides of being endlessly selfish.

  At first, she rejected hanging out with married men. However, the wealthier she got, the more she spent. She had not the habit of storing money. Whatever she got, she spent it right away, leaving not a single penny in her house. Soon, her demand of a materialistic life grew stronger with each passing day. She yearned for more. Soon, she no longer cared for etiquette and morals, seducing men of all perspectives. The married men certainly found her satisfactory, for she was a wild and open woman. She knew ways to entertain them, making them happy. Unlike their wives, she was young and charming. In their eyes, she was a devil wearing an angel’s clothes.

  Such life continued for a while before she met him. Right, the unusual man among all.

  For him, she vowed to devote her entire life and spirit. For him, she even tended to abandon all that she had. He had such mysterious magic that cast a spell on her for she had never been that yielding before. She was utterly drowned in his temptation.

  To be frank, he was not the most handsome among all she had met. Neither was he the richest. Yet, he had this humor that appealed to her. She was twenty-two at that moment and he was nearly forty. A typical married businessman. She encountered him in the pub one night. The man sat alone in one corner. Unlike others, he was not drinking or chattering with girls. He was watching, carefully and seriously at every other person around him. His charisma attracted her. The second their eyes met, she swore she was completely drugged.

  They spent a rather impressive relationship for about half a year. He never asked about her other partners, which somewhat irritated her a bit. Generally, the group of men that courted her was often pretty much very jealous of one another but this man. He never envied others. Perhaps he realized he had her totally under his control.

  “What makes you so confident that I won’t abandon you?” She once asked him.

  “That’s not confidence.” He answered with a smile on his face. “That’s mutual trust.”

  He bought her gifts like many other men but she treasured his part the most. He often sneaked out to meet her at night. Sometimes, she crept into his house while his wife was not present. The excitement of such affair sparked off her passion for life. She lived only for him. Solely for him.

  Had she ever made any precaution she would not have ended up the way she did. Their love burnt for some time before it went off. It all started when he told her he went bankrupt. He made a huge mistake in one business and lost all his money, or so he claimed. She sympathized with him as he told her his wife left him because of his debt. She invited him to live together with her in that enormous grand mansion another man once bought her. Things went smoothly at first. They got married and had what seemed like a beautiful fascinating life. He treated her so well that she felt as though she was in heaven. Before meeting him, she never thought any real love could ever exist. But his sudden appearance in her life just convinced her there was a possibility for her to live a normal life like any other women in the town.

  Little did she know that her affair with him would make her suffer till now.

  He betrayed her…

  He abandoned her…

  One night, he left. With all her money that is. She returned from a royal ball and the moment she stepped into the house, she knew something was wrong. Her maids had fainted, lying unconsciously on the floor. No one came to greet her and the house was spookily tranquil. She went through the hallway only to find the door of each bedroom was wide open. Every room was in a mess. Apparently, she was robbed.

  She shrieked and called out for his name, but nobody answered her. The next day, farmers in the village reported having seen him carried a bulky luggage and ran away in a carriage. Soon, the landlord came to claim back the mansion, saying her husband had sold out her house and that she had no authority to possess that land anymore. She was exasperated and yet astounded. She went everywhere seeking him but never had this person exist. The owner of the pub said he was never a businessman, nor was he really married. The house he used to live belonged to his aunt, who had passed away not long ago. Afterwards, her children inherited her house and threw him out. He then lied about having gone bankrupt and becoming homeless.

  All in all, it was just a trick to deceive her. He was a liar. A terrible thief.

  After losing everything, she lived in a home tempora
rily. She prayed in the church every day to repent all her previous foolish acts. However, things turned around when she met another man. This time, she was so certain that he was not a liar. He offered her a place to live and in a couple of months married her. She was brought to ecstasy.

  But then, adversity never failed her. That man, whom she loved with her whole heart, perished during a plague. It was as though she forfeited everything again. This time, she lost all the passion and hope for life. She wept every day and night. When finally she could no longer shed another drop of tears, someone offered her his hand. He was the dead man’s dear brother. Unlike his brother, this kind man was not a businessman. He was not wealthy either. He lived in a house near the rural village and worked as a doctor and pharmacist. Yet, all the medicine he sold was of pretty much low cost on grounds that the village was poor. When she was at the bottom of her life, this young doctor lent her a shoulder to cry on. She was charmed, indeed. It was then she realized she had never wanted anything better than happiness and true love. She wished, very strongly, for an everlasting love. All the memories of being young and wild remained as a trace of sin to her, but at least, she found the one she could truly rely on. She married the doctor.

  One fortunate thing that followed was that they did spend a rather happy time together, for at least a few years or so. And then, things changed. Like a disease, the desire of being rich and proud relapsed. Soon, she found that her poor husband had not the ability to satisfy her. Even though he loved and cared for her dearly, she still wanted something beyond mere love. Her greed for the sweetness of being wealthy returned and surpassed her. She began making changes on her husband. At first, she convinced him that they should increase the cost and he didn’t hesitate to agree with her. Since her husband was a rather wimpy man who sometimes feared her, he answered to her requests instantly.

  But then, when she further demanded a rise in the cost, her husband declined. It was then she knew he was too much a responsible and considerate doctor who did not bother to make profit but to just cure the patients.

  She was exasperated. As she saw there was no way they could ever live a prosperous life with her husband being so “kind”, she diverted her attention to other things. She began having affairs with rich gentlemen. Though her husband knew that very clearly, he did not bother to correct her. Instead, he let her have her own way. Realizing that her husband was not a bit jealous or angry, she was even more furious. She lost the fun in having affairs and went on torturing him in another way. When he was not around or was called on to help in some other places, she would torment the villagers. She knew well her husband cared for his patients more than anything else, so she decided to avenge by making the patients suffer.

  Once, her husband left the village to town for several days and during that time, she raised the medication fee so high that it was almost not affordable for any sick villagers. She did not mind being unable to earn money anymore, for at that time, she wanted revenge more than anything. A revenge on her husband.

  As she witnessed those terribly ill patients walked out of their clinic looking helpless and anguished, she laughed to herself. The pain the others were suffering gradually added up to her content and pleasure. It was ferocious yet astounding. The more other people suffered, the happier she felt.

  Until this day, she was still smiling secretly in her heart. The rain had not yet stopped and her husband would not be home for at least a week. She did not fear the villagers complaining to him after he returned because he was always afraid of her. He would just comfort the villagers and apologized to them personally.

  The door creaked open and a woman walked into the clinic. She looked up from the counter and stared at the young girl in the front.

  “Mrs. Lefebvre.” The girl muttered under her breath. She had an eccentric way of dressing. She was wearing a plain black gothic dress, tight for her body. Her dark hair covered her entire back and way down to her bottom. Her eyes gleamed with menacing glare.

  Mrs. Lefebvre snorted. She was not very glad to see this girl because she remained her strongly of one thing- youth and beauty. She remembered being beautiful and young once but now, her face was wrinkled and no matter how much she tried to cover her age with make-up, she was still a typical middle-aged woman.

  “May I help you?” She asked coldly.

  “My mother is sick.” The girl said, her face expressionless. “I want to pick some medicine for her. Please, if you would kindly offer some help.”

  “What’s her illness?” Mrs. Lefebvre asked.

  “She’s got a rather serious cold, I think.” The girl went on. “She coughs endlessly and sometimes, blood comes out of her mouth.”

  “Well, that’s pretty easy to tackle.” Mrs. Lefebvre went back into the storage room and returned with a pack of medicine.

  “Twenty dollars, please.” She said.

  “Twenty dollars?” The girl’s eyes widened. “Isn’t it rather harsh?”

  “Pay or get out of here.” The evil woman stated.

  “I’ve got only ten dollars.” The young lady pled. “Please, you know living is hard at this time of year. The harvest is not good as expected. Just once, I’ll pay you back later.”

  “Stop messing around.” Mrs. Lefebvre shouted. “I don’t give a damn to how living is hard for you. Living is hard for us too! If I let you get away with ten dollars, what will others say? This is a business we are running!”

  “But Mrs. Lefebvre,” The girl stared at her. “I remember last time I bought the same medicine here, it only cost ten dollars.”

  “Last time!” Mrs. Lefebvre laughed. “That’s when Mr. Lefebvre was here, but now he’s away. I’m in charge of everything here. Get out of here if you’re not buying!”

  “Really, no concessions?”

  “No! Leave now or I’ll…”

  “You will what?” The girl grinned.

  Mrs. Lefebvre stopped to gaze at the girl. All at once, she felt queer. Whenever her husband was working, she was always standing beside him and yet, she had never met this girl before. It was all so weird. The way she dressed. The way she looked. The girl was wearing a grand dress but she claimed she had not enough money. What was she getting at?

  “Is this a joke?” Mrs. Lefebvre murmured, frowning at the odd customer.

  “Mrs. Lefebvre,” The girl sighed. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  Now that she thought of it, she did feel that the girl looked rather familiar. Where had she seen her? She had met her before, hadn’t she? But when?

  “Remember what you said to me last time I came here?” The girl asked.

  Oh yeah, she remembered her. The girl used to live in the same village with her sister, mother and granny. Her mother was always sick. She visited the clinic one time and that was when Mr. Lefebvre was out for business. Mrs. Lefebvre refused to sell her the medicine because the poor girl did not have enough money. Her name…her name was…something like Margaret... No, it was Margorie.

  “But…” Suddenly, Mrs. Lefebvre felt a chill running down her spine. It couldn’t be possible! It couldn’t be true! The girl should have died two year ago. She was wrongly accused of being a witch by her sister’s husband, Earl Beaumont. At that time, Mrs. Lefebvre was one of those who went along to witness with the execution, watching as the little girl got burned to death.

  “You know,” Margorie walked around. With each step she took, her heels knocked on the ground. “People are dying and you are enjoying their death.”

  Mrs. Lefebvre was still in too much astonishment and shock to say a word. She gazed as Margorie took another step.

  “This clinic hasn’t changed since last time I visited here.” Margorie stopped to look up at an old painting hung on the wall. “Nothing has changed, to be precise. Your greed, vanity and brutality. While your husband is now away helping the king, you’re feeling pleased watching others die.”

  “I…” Mrs. Lefebvre stammered, frightened.

  “Well, what would it b
e like if you were the one in anguish?” Margorie turned to face the woman, with the largest smile on her pasty face. “That would be fun to watch.”

  “No…” At this stage, Mrs. Lefebvre could only shake her head. Her whole body was trembling.

  “Afraid?” Margorie laughed. “You never were afraid. Others are afraid of death but I don’t think you do, for you enjoy watching it, don’t you? You know what; we are pretty much the same type of people. I enjoy the thing you enjoy and I shall enjoy it when the same happens to you.”

  With another cunning laugh, Margorie vanished in a bundle of dark mist.

  As for Mrs. Lefebvre, she was probably so frightened that she fainted. When she woke again, she was on her bed. Death bed…