"Ruin and Redemption"

Derrick Attempts Monogamy

The sound of the horses’ hooves on the dirt road made Lizzie shudder as she had never shuddered before. They seemed to be in a hurry. Ever since the time last month when the angry mob had taken her to hang on the gallows she had been spooked. Every little noise made her jump, and the sound of horses’ hooves, of someone approaching her place on horseback, was unbearably scary.

Lizzie was sitting in the living room with Patsy, pouring herself a cup of tea from the teapot, her black shawl draped protectively around her shoulders. She couldn’t let Patsy pour for her any more, now that she knew she was black herself.

Derrick was upstairs. He rarely left the house now, preferring to be close should Lizzie need him. It was difficult respecting Lizzie’s wishes for distance between them, when he wanted so badly to comfort her. She had been cold, unyielding and shell-shocked since the incident. And she had accused him of wanting the divorce so that he could move to Charleston and be with his French whore, when he had only suggested the divorce in an attempt to protect Lizzie. Why couldn’t she see how much he loved her?  He had hardly even gone out to see Scarlett he was so worried for her, and so wished he could comfort her. He cried to himself in the afternoons when he thought of his father’s part in inciting the mob; How could Henri have done such a thing to his wife whom he loved so much? The betrayal by his father haunted him as he lay upstairs examining the patterns of light and shadow on the ceiling. He heard the horses’ hooves as well, and they startled him. What was the hurry? Was someone else coming to attack his wife? How was he going to make it downstairs? “Patsy!” He called desperately, hoping she was somewhere in the house.

“Coming, Derrick!” She called up the stairs. “Lizzie, you come up here with me; We’ll all stay together…I can come down and open the door later if you want me to.”

Lizzie mutely followed Patsy up the stairs. Her hair was streaked with silver now. It’s luster had faded from her youth, but not until the incident last month had the first strands of silver made their appearance. Not until then had she felt really and truly old--- Old and helpless and faded. She had doubted during the ordeal if Josiah, her old beau, would even stay the course. Whenever she had tried to catch his eye, he had turned from her. She had been worried that at the last moment her ever-faithful friend would change his mind and abandon her to the angry mob. Thank God, he had not! But still, she had felt terribly alone when she could not catch his eye.

Patsy hurried into Derrick’s bedroom, flinging the door open for Lizzie who ran to the side of her husband’s bed.

“Derrick! They’re coming for me again! I can’t stand it anymore!”

Derrick struggled to sit up and comfort his wife. “It’s alright, Lizzie,” Derrick assured her, holding her around the waist. It was a relief to have her safe in his arms for a moment. Lizzie leaned against his chest. Derrick would protect her. Then, remembering she was black, and she would only sully him, Lizzie pulled away and brushed herself off, and pushed the loose strands behind her ears.

“I’m sorry, Derrick,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to grab you. I’m just so scared. You aren’t going to turn me over to them, are you?” She asked, sincerely concerned.

“No, of course not! I’ll see what they want and turn them away if I need to. I wouldn’t think of letting them take you away, Lizzie.”