THE DEATH OF EMILY PRITCHETT
A short story by Hickory Cole
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The Death of Emily Pritchett
Copyright © 2012 by Hickory Cole
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
She is very beautiful, more beautiful than anyone else I have ever witnessed. Beyond her beauty she has a unique kindness in her eyes, a very gentle soul. Were I able, I would reach out and touch her, but there’s no use in talking of the absurd. I watch her every day as she comes and goes from Pritchett Manor. It is my good fortune that her favorite place in this large palatial home is the back parlor. This is where I steal my glances at her. I don’t think she notices me staring at her, even when she stares right back at me, almost through me.
Emily Pritchett is the sole heiress to the Pritchett family fortune, the most sought after, eligible debutante in Augusta. She has the most exciting life, constantly being called upon by the most handsome suitors, attending social galas and other public affairs that I have no true knowledge of, besides hearsay. I never venture beyond the walls of this house. But this story is not about me. It is about Emily.
I can hear Emily entering the house and all the usual commotion that comes with it. Cheerful greetings are extolled by the staff as they take her parasol and hat, and then a cool glass of lemonade is offered and refused. There is a new excitement in her voice, one that I have never heard before. She dispatches the staff to prepare for the coming evening. A guest is to be expected promptly at 7:00 pm for dinner and dessert. His name is Mr. Gilroy, Terrance Gilroy. That name has been mentioned around me before, but always in a manner consistent with frivolous fantasy. She has always fancied the young man, but her admiration always seemed similar to mine of her, one to never be revealed. That appears to be changing now.
The next four hours fly by as if minutes with all the excitement in the household as everyone prepares for his arrival. Everyone in this house adores Emily because of her kind nature and wants the best for her. They all feed off of her excitement. The anticipation in the air is palpable.
The time finally arrives, and a knock is heard at the door. Emily’s parents are away on vacation in the Caribbean, so the large banquet table has been arranged for two, an intimate setting at one end of the long table. The staff welcomes Mr. Gilroy and ushers him into the back parlor, where he sits waiting for his lovely hostess to join him. He fidgets a bit as he sits alone. His eyes dart about the room taking note of the large portrait of the Pritchett family hanging over the fireplace. He glances at me, showing no reaction as he scans the room. He continues, until he stops on the large wooden chest sitting in the middle of the room. It is a rather large piece of furniture, constructed of solid oak with a dark red tinted stain. Though it is clearly a storage chest, it has a table top for its heavy lid, giving it the dual purpose required for it to be situated in the room as it is. Mr. Gilroy diverts his attention to other items in the room, but keeps returning to the large storage chest in the center of the room. After a few minutes he lets his curiosity get the better of him, and he moves the silver coffee service off the table top and onto the sofa cushion next to him. He lifts the large lid, with more effort than he initially thought it would require, revealing the cavernous insides of the chest. It is empty.
He lowers the lid to see Emily standing in the doorway to the room. He is taken by surprise and is clearly embarrassed by his juvenile actions. Emily simply smiles.
“Did you find what you were looking for in there Terrance?” she says playfully.
Terrance blushes as he quickly replaces the silver tray back on the table top. “My apologies Miss Emily. It is such a striking piece of furniture, and my curiosity got the better of me.”
“Stop blushing you silly thing. It’s just an old chest we use to store our heavy quilts in the summertime.”
Terrance stands. “May I say you look positively extravagant Miss Emily.” He is anxious to change the subject.
“You may Mr. Gilroy.”
“Then let me say it again. You look divine.”
“Well which is it Mr. Gilroy, extravagant or divine?”
“Both. And I’ll add lovely. But I’ll stop there if I am making you uncomfortable.”
“I think you know women well enough Mr. Gilroy to know that withholding such compliments is not required, nor appreciated.”
“Then I’ll add beautiful for now and try to pepper in the remaining dozen I have in reserve throughout the evening. I’m afraid if I continue this pace my limited vocabulary will fail me when I hope it to serve me the most.”
Emily blushes herself. “Mr. Gilroy. I’m not sure what you are implying by that statement, but I assure you I am a lady and no silver tongued devil will change that in one evening.”
Terrance blushes as well. “Clearly, as I just warned, my limited linguistic talents have failed me as I meant to imply nothing about…any…I only meant…”
“I do believe your comments to be innocent Terrance. I apologize for teasing you. And your vocabulary is holding up just fine.”
Miss Mattie enters the room and announces that dinner is ready to be served.
Terrance takes Emily by the arm and escorts her into the dining room. The meal seemingly goes very well as the clinking of silver on fine china and crystal intermingle with the pleasant conversation and occasional outbursts of laughter. The clock on the mantle quickly spins off two hours before the pair return to the parlor. They sit on the sofa close to each other. Miss Mattie enters briefly, returning the silver coffee service tray to the broad tabletop with a full pot of coffee and fresh cream. Emily stares into Terrance’s eyes. She is smitten. Her night with him has gone as perfectly as she could ever have imagined. He looks back into her eyes trying to conceal the yearning he feels deep within. It is all too much. Base desire has no place in polite southern society, but her beauty’s only equals are her charm and warm spirit. He is in love.
To regain his composure he excuses himself to the lavatory. Emily calls for Mattie.
She says, “Miss Mattie, I believe we will not be in need of your services for the rest of the evening. Please excuse yourself to your quarters for the evening.”
Miss Mattie pauses, questioning how it looks to have a young man and a young woman alone in the house without a suitable chaperone, but decides discretion on her part is the next best thing to good judgment on the part of her employer. “Thank you ma’am. You have a nice evening.”
Emily bites her lip. The look in her eye leads me to believe she is pondering something she shouldn’t. Finally she convinces herself. She glances at me and giggles. She removes the coffee service from the top of the table and hoists open the heavy lid of the chest. She climbs into the chest and reaches up to pull the lid closed. She giggles again at the impropriety of it all, and how the young man will be surprised by her fabulous game of hide-and-seek. Before she disappears completely in the chest she notices that she dropped her handkerchief on the floor next to the chest. She pushes the lid back up and leans out to grab the dropped item.
The well-oiled hinges make no sound as the heavy lid swings closed catching Emily on the back of her head. Blood spurts onto her forearm and down the front of the chest before
she falls back unconscious into the wooden box, her arm scraping against the lid as it slips inside and she disappears completely, all except for a single lock of her auburn curls that barely show dangling under the lip of the table top. The handkerchief falls from her grasp landing on the floor in front of the large wooden box. The small spray of blood blends into the redness of the oak finish.
I stare at the sight. The most beautiful face I have ever known, the kindest eyes, the sweetest soul lies in distress out of sight. I am frozen against the far wall.
Terrance returns to the room. He looks puzzled by the scene. He looks at the coffee tray sitting on the sofa now where he had placed it earlier this evening. He stares at the chest. He notices the handkerchief and bends to pick it up. He is inches from her but can’t hear her shallow breathing inside the chest. Perplexed, he examines the cloth in his hand. He draws it to his face, and his nostrils flare as he takes in the gentle scent of her perfume. He calls out for her. There is no answer. He checks the other rooms in the house. He looks flustered as he considers what he may have done wrong to offend such a delicate lady. But there is no answer.
He walks directly towards me, staring at me, now through me. He is still looking for answers that are not coming. I cannot tell him what I know, and he does not ask. If only he would look in the chest. He had done it before, why not now? She can still be saved before the airtight box she lies in becomes her sarcophagus. But I can see it in his eyes as he stares at me. He has given up. There is a sadness in his eyes that will pale in comparison to the sadness he will feel when the truth is revealed. But for now he simply stares at me, and tucks the perfumed handkerchief in his breast pocket, and straightens his tie, and wets his fingers on his tongue to smooth out the part in his hair.
Terrance Gilroy leaves the parlor confused and unnerved by what has happened, grabbing his coat on the way out the front door.
I hang on the wall unable to save the most beautiful face I have ever beheld.
Other stories available online by Hickory Cole:
Photographic,
Amnesia
The Equation
The Offer
Replica
Orange
Frank Simmons
And be sure to look for my debut novel, Little
When Juni Little stumbles upon details that could explain a series of mysterious animal mutilations around his small home town, he tries to convince the local sheriff that the threat cannot be ignored, meanwhile the list of people he trusts begins to dwindle as those closest to him fall prey to those fighting to keep the secret of the beast buried along with anyone who gets too close to the truth.
To find the latest news and a complete list of all Hickory Cole works and where you can find them online visit my website, www.hickorycolebooks.com.