M’ill and H’ill: Part 3

Some of you had asked for more stories about M’ill and H’ill. Part 1 and Part 2 can be found here for better context.

A breeze blew gently through the trees, carrying cheerful bird songs with it. Everything was peaceful and at rest in H’ill…except us. Hilda’s rake scritch-scratched in the earth, preparing the soil for more seeds. I tried to follow her example, but I kept pausing, rubbing my hands where blisters were beginning to appear.

“What did you say we were planting in this spot?”

“Sweet potatoes,” Hilda answered. “I can almost taste them now! I’ll show you how to make my delicious casserole when we harvest.”

I surveyed the large garden plot. We had already planted carrots, potatoes, rutabaga, turnips, lettuce, and I don’t know what else. So far, all we had to show for it were a lot of little heaps of dirt.

Hilda paused from her work for a moment. She put her hand on my shoulder, “I know. It is hard work with little to show for it now, but don’t give up. We’ll have such a celebration at harvest time, plenty for ourselves and plenty to share.”

I smiled back weakly, “I’m sure you’re right.” I wondered how long it took for callouses to form. “Can I take a break?”

“Of course, we need to rest as much as we need to work.” Hilda began raking again.

I set down the hoe (perhaps a little too eagerly) and headed to the spring. I took a long drink of the fresh water. While I drank, I watched a family gathered under a tree with violins, flutes, and a guitar, playing a simple song together. The youngest child was squeaking something horrible on his violin. Judging from his gap-toothed smile, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Do you want to join us?” the wife called. “You can sing the part with us.” She laughed as the littlest girl hit a shrill note on the flute. “The children are still learning, but the song will be beautiful soon.”

“No, thanks.” The squeaking was too much for me. Maybe I’d join when they had advanced a bit more.

I started walking again, slowly, letting my feet carry me along. I found myself looking down on M’ill. Smog and smoke rose from it, but those hot neon signs peeped through dimly. Perhaps…?

I heard footsteps behind me, “Carissa?”

Carissa. He called me that now. Beloved. 

Usually, my heart beat a little faster to hear him speak, but now as I turned to face him, I lowered my eyes. He knew. The rule writer always knew. “Oh, hello,” I said aloud.

“What are you doing, Carissa?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just feeling kind of tired.”

“Do you want to walk with me? Or we can find a place to sit and rest together.”

“Thanks, but I was thinking I might go down to M’ill for a little bit. You know, see what’s going on down there.”

“I see.”

I still didn’t make eye contact. I answered his unspoken question. “I’m not going to do anything wrong. I’ll be careful.”

“I wish you wouldn’t, but you are free to go.”

I bristled. Of course I was free to go. “Well, you can come too if you want.”

“No,” he looked down over M’ill. “I’ll be waiting for you here. Don’t stay too long. It’s such a beautiful day to enjoy and I don’t want you miss any of it.” He settled onto a bench under a tree that looked out over the valley. It looked as if he really meant to just sit there and watch me.

“I’ll be back soon. See you later.” I could feel his eyes the whole walk down. Well, it wasn’t so much a walk as a slide. The hill was steep and the going down was much faster than coming up had been. I barely reached the bottom with my dignity intact. I was dusty and already very thirsty. It would work out though, I just needed the afternoon to lighten up a little, have a little fun.

Plunging into the current of people, I allowed the crowd to carry me along. All the different people, all the bright colors, all the jostling and shoving. It was exciting, though I kept a sharp eye out for pickpockets and tried to avoid eye contact with people with strong wills. I wanted to keep the clothes on my back this time. Still, it would have been easier if I had a companion. Milly had been so sure of herself that she seemed to pave the way for everything. I wondered where Milly was now. In a prison cell somewhere? Had she had her trial? I would have to ask him when I went back. He would know.

In my musings, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and I ran hard into someone. Expecting a stream of swearing or a worse revenge, I jumped back on the defensive. But when the man turned around, I caught my breath. I knew him. The one who had stolen my ring and later my clothes smiled at me, “Why, what a surprise! How delightful to see you! You look…different. How have you been?”

I forgot to be upset about seeing him again. “I’m doing all right. I’ve been living in H’ill. How about yourself?” I fidgeted in my white dress. It seemed to stand out here. It was ever so plain.

“Oh, everything is going just swimmingly, bit of a whirlwind though with plays, cocktail parties, dinner at the club. Why, I hardly have a spare moment!” He smiled and winked. “I’m free now though. Join me for lunch?”

Mr. Charming offered his arm. I took his arm and followed him deeper into the city.

We dined at a rooftop restaurant with a grimy view of grey buildings. I was so thirsty! The waiter must have refilled my glass three or four times and I was still parched. We dined on tough steak and mealy potatoes. I felt hungry even after the second course. I wondered at the fact that Mr. Charming seemed to truly enjoy the food, savoring each morsel and swirling his wine glass with relish, but perhaps that was part of his act. I thought wistfully of the food from H’ill, which always left me full and yet wanting more.

“Have you ever been to H’ill?” I asked suddenly.

He blinked in surprise, “No, I can’t say that I have.”

I tried to describe it to him, about the food and the light and everything being real. “Life in H’ill is wonderful… most of the time. There’s a beautiful view from the top, but it’s such hard work. I mean, everyone plants gardens and raises animals; sheep, goats, chickens. There’s lots of music, but no phonograph or radio. The people have to make all the music themselves, so it isn’t always the best talent, if you know what I mean. No artificial, electric lights anywhere. It’s all candle or natural sunlight. It feels a bit rustic, but there is no mistaking that it is real life.”

“Hhmm,” he sniffed, “sounds like a pretty backwards place. None of the modern conveniences. No comfort.” He took my hand across the table. I was sure he noticed how rough it was. “What you need is a vacation, my dear. Stick with me. You won’t have to do any work today. No digging up your own dirty potatoes, no tending to the sheep. Say, there’s a concert tonight. Would you oblige and come with me?”

“A concert? Well, I was meaning to get back to H’ill tonight.” He looked so disappointed, I asked, “Is it supposed to be good?”

“Oh, absolutely first rate! I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

I glanced out the window. The sun was hanging low in the sky. It was probably too late to start back to H’ill now anyway, what with that steep climb and all. I felt I had just begun to relax.

He leaned in across the table and dropped his voice, “You know I could make you come, don’t you? I could put my foot down and refuse to be denied. But you know, you can make me do what you want too. Why, you could spin me like a top. Just say the word and I’m your slave, my dear.”

I met his steady gaze uncertainly. I didn’t relish the thought of another episode in the back garden, but this invitation to try my will against his? Could I come out on top in this contest or was it fixed? I thought again of his fine clothes and costly jewels and the crisp, large bills he’d handed to the waiter. I thought of going back to spend the evening with Hilda by candlelight, eating the simple farm fare, maybe Hilda telling a story for entertainment.

“I’ll go to the concert with you.”

“Splendid! First, we must stop to visit a friend of mine. She’ll have something for you to wear.”

“Oh, I’ll just wear this, thanks.”

“My dear, that is not evening wear.” His forehead wrinkled in disapproval. “My friend will have what you need.”

Mr. Charming led me to a nearby apartment. Producing a key, he entered with a flourish and greeted the woman reclining on the sofa, “Darling, I am escorting this young lady to a concert and she hasn’t a thing to wear. You’ll help her, won’t you?”

My mouth went dry. I recognized the girl with the beautiful plum-colored dress I had taken. Her eyes also widened in recognition and an odd-looking smile came to her face. “I’d just as soon help her out a window.”

“Tut, tut, darling. I really can’t have that. If you don’t supply this young lady with evening attire, I shall cut off your allowance.”

She scowled and pouted but jerked her head toward a door. “This way.”

Her closet was full of the most gorgeous clothes, every color and style, all with elegance and allure.

“Well, you can take your pick now. Or do you want the one I’m wearing?”

I lowered me head and blushed, “No, that’s all right. I really don’t want anything. You can pick something, as long as it will go over this. I’ll make sure I send it back.”

She looked at my dress, then pulled out a red gown. “How about this one?” Her voice no longer had the hard edge to it.

I took a look in the mirror as I held it to me. With it in my hands, I realized the material, though shimmering, was low quality and the construction hasty. I wondered if the plum-colored dress had been like this as well. I hadn’t paid attention at the time, but now I appeared to be turning into something of a snob. I noticed her reach out and take a fold of my white dress in her hand, rubbing it between her fingers gently. Perhaps the white dress was why the red dress seemed so inferior to me now.

“Where did you get this?”

“In H’ill.”

“H’ill? Really?”

“Yes, I live there. I mean, most of the time.”

She still fingered it, “It’s beautiful. Would you want to trade it?”

I turned and faced her quickly, remembering my words last time we met. From her expression, she seemed to actually be proposing a fair trade. If she did covet it, perhaps she did not have the power to take this one thing. “No, I must keep it.”

She looked disappointed but helped me pull the red gown over my white dress. She zipped it up and found a matching pair of shoes. While she helped arrange my hair, she said, “Tell me about H’ill.”

I told her about how I got to H’ill, then about the rule writer, Hilda, the garden, the squeaky violins, and more. Before opening the door back out to the sitting room, she looked me in the eye and firmly said, “Don’t take his money.” Outside, her hard sarcasm returned, “Here’s your doll. Play nicely.”

“Why, darling, I absolutely knew I could count on you.” He gave her an exuberant kiss on the cheek and whispered something in her ear while she pulled away from his grip on her wrist. Then, releasing her, he caught up his hat and swept me away again.

Part 4 coming soon.

Photo by Ben Rosett on Unsplash.