Summer Lightning Read Online Free Page A

necessarily indicate the age of the writer.
    All the letters had at their heart the feeling that the world was meant for couples. Whether the letter stated that the writer was looking for a spouse or a parent for children (already gotten or yet unborn) a lover or a housekeeper, each made clear that the loneliness of the writer was increased by the observation that every being on earth went more happily as one of a pair.
    The time until three-thirty passed pleasantly enough. She meant to leave in plenty of time, for she would have to walk very slowly to keep from exhausting herself. It was only when Edith tried to stand that she found the weakness in her legs had not passed off. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she felt so weak that she leaned her head on her hand and closed her sore eyes.
    In the dungeon beneath the castle, the only light came from smoking torches in the wall. The captive maiden would have been glad to shout defiance to her guards, were they not, like all the inhabitants, feasting in the great hall above. Now that there was no one to see, she could give way to tears. One by one they dripped from between the fingers that hid her eyes.
    When Edith looked up, the small wooden clock on the wall told her it was five minutes past four. Distressed, for the post office closed at five o’clock, Edith knew she’d have to hurry. In her haste, she half-fell down the last several stairs, twisting her ankle. She hopped on her other foot for a moment, biting her lips to keep back a cry.
    The crash brought out Mr. Maginn, like a malevolent cuckoo from a shabby clock. Edith realized he was at least partially sober and she bit her lip. While he was drunk, she could deal with him fairly well. Sober was another matter.
    “Well, well, Miss Edith, you won’t flee so easy this time.”
    “Mr. Maginn, you’ll have to pardon me. I’m late and I . . .”
    “Mighty hoity-toity, aren’t you—for someone who’s owing back rent? Come on in here, and let’s have a little talk about that . . . and other things.”
    “Really, Mr. Maginn, I can’t right now. If you’ll just let me go, I’ll have your rent when I ... at least, I hope I will.”
    But he stood in the doorway, staring at her. He beckoned her over by crooking his fat white forefinger. Edith felt she had but two choices—to go to him or to run away. As each step was a shooting pain, she had in fact no choice at all.
    Trying not to limp, she walked into the bright, seemingly clean apartment. Despite the fact that each surface was dusted and every pillow plumped, a smell lingered in the room, as though the exhalings of Mr. Maginn never really faded. The smell caught Edith by the throat. She tried to breathe shallowly.
    “What am I to do with you?” he asked, coming closer. His tone was a travesty of the paternal.
    “I hope to pay you this afternoon, Mr. Maginn. I am on my way to the post office and I feel confident . . .”
    He ran his hand down’ her arm, insinuating himself closer. “You’re a lovely thing, me darlin’. All ripe and delicious, like peaches and cream.”
    “You’re too kind,” she said, recoiling. One of his teeth must be rotten. His breath would choke a horse. “As I said . . ,”
    “Now, it don’t seem right that you should have to struggle so. I’ve had me eye on you for some little time, sweetness. Things are bad with you. I could be willing to make life that much easier for you.”
    His arm was about her waist. Despite her hand firm against his shoulder, his strength was slowly but certainly bringing her closer to his spongy body.
    “Say you leave your door unlocked tonight,” he whispered wetly in her ear. “Say you be happy to see me. Then I’d be more than happy to make your dreams come true. It’s not right such a beauty should be sleeping all alone.”
    “Please, Mr. Maginn. . . .”
    “Oh, yes, my lovely, you’ll say please. And thank you, Ringo, you’ll be saying pretty as you can.”
    She was bending away from him