the death of selah sophya (a work in progress)

May 15, 2008 - 20:32 PM PST

Interview 1

a tumble down stairs? nonsense. she hated stairs.. said there was always the chance of stepping on cats. didn't trust stairs. or railings either. especially wooden railings. something about the grain.
unstable? i don't know what you mean by the word. her balance was superb. labyrinthitis runs in her family, but she was clear of it. you can tell after the seventeenth year. she was sounder than the oak behind the kennels. not that i would ever presume to make such an observation.
what did she like? well, sir, not that it was any of my business, or yours for that matter, but she liked shears. yes, shears. she enjoyed something about the thought behind them. i mean, she liked to trim her own hair. not much of a comparison to wool, i must say. it was like silk, that hair of hers. fine as a baby's.
no, i never touched it! what a thing to say! what cause would i have to touch her hair? now, as i was saying, she liked shears. used to have them sharpened right here on the property. no, she didn't send out for much. she was awfully private sir.
what do y'mean? 'course some people knew her. i knew her. well, after a fashion. how much could i have really known her, i'd like to know? her shut up in all this wilderness, too many friends to count and more lovers than i can remember rightly. oh, sir, please don't put that in the report, i shouldn't have said it. please sir, it wouldn't do for that mess to be in print.
well it is the truth! i didn't live blindfolded or with my fingers in my ears. what between indian butlers and nigerian footmen, you'd think we were running a sideshow. no, i don't know what that phrase means, to be honest. she used to say it all the time. whenever we'd get new help.
no, i was never replaced.
i don't know why.
i supposed she liked me, sir. i suppose i did the job well.
it was a special one, i can tell you that. one that needed a soft tone. the gentle touch. i'm the quiet type, she used to say. said i was perfect for her needs. she had so many needs, sir. her bones, her blood, her skin, of which were taken the best care, sir. she needed so many night time remedies. she needed them, sir. that's certain. couldn't bear to have mirrors around the place. said they showed up all her sins.
no sir, she wasn't a christian. wasn't an atheist either, before you feel inclined to ask. i don't know what she believed. she wore a rosary now and then.
wore prayer beads too, come to think of it. she sang all the time, you see, and i never understood what she was singin' about.
she could have been praying. i couldn't say. i will say this. she warbled nicely, when i could catch a breath of it. she'd shut up as soon as anyone let on they could hear her. i think she liked that. the thought of it, i mean. that someone was listenin', but she wasn't to know about it.
cats? what've cats go to do with it?
she didn't want to step on one, is all. would you? all that horrible yelping and scratching and what not. enough to drive the sense right out of your head.
yeah, there were a few about, mostly tabbies, but now and again a siamese or two. don't know where those came from. awfully expensive, i understand. and the bluest eyes i've ever seen, and that's saying a bit, as i was employed here.
oh, sir, her eyes were the bluest i'd seen til those cats showed up. like small glaciers, sir, not that i've ever seen a glacier. i've heard of them, though, and that was enough. i doubt any real glacier would live up to her eyes, though, if you follow me sir.
why yes sir, i was dutiful. i did my duty, as i was told, and as i knew i should.
habits? well, i suppose we all have our habits, sir. i mean, yes. yes, she had her own set, as you say. she was in love with her cats sir. she really was.

Interview 2

she ate like a horse, and that's the truth. i never understood it. she ate and ate, and never gained a pound. she always looked too thin to me, like she was starving, but heaven knows she wasn't. very particular eater, too, i might add. sure i can tell you what she liked. 'tsnot as if she's here to scold me for it. she liked bread sir, loved any kind we made, 'cept rye. that she'd feed to the ducks to fatten 'em up. oh yes, she loved duck, sir. especially the neck. used to watch her eat it, when i was an upstairs girl. never seen bones picked so clean, i'll tell you, she was better than the dogs.
oh yes sir, we had dogs. she didn't, by any means, but we always were feeding a stray or two. personally, i prefer them to cats. snobbish, beastly little things, but dogs, ah dogs are different. they'll guard you, they will, and are always happy to see you. yessir, i will say it, and so can you. i hate cats. but, it waasn't my affair what she wanted to do with her money or her house. i didn't feed them, not a chance! i wasn't about to feed a nasty tabbie, or any of those fancy bitches she'd had bred in france.
like i told you, she ate more than any other woman i've met. what did she eat? well, duck for one. she loved it. she even cleaned the birds, if you can believe it. got right into the mess and loved it. she kept the feathers, used to make quills out of 'em. her fingertips were always a horrid blue during the night and morning hours. she'd have 'em scrubbed up by the time any company would come around, but goodness was it a sight before noon! oh yes, what else was there...cabbage. loved cabbage, but only the purple stuff. her and her colors. like a superstitious heathen, i always said. she always needed COLOR. couldn't abide anything plain. she liked spicy things, too hot for most, you'd think she wanted to burn her tongue away.
i don't know why she liked cats. she wasn't at all pettish or sulky like those bitches. yessir, always bitches, never a male in the lot of 'em. she didn't like men, sir. oh, now, don't take me wrong, she had her lovers. i'm not sayin' she didn't have plenty of those! but i mean around the house. oscar was the only one i'd ever seen about, and he did no more than tend to the grounds and look in on the horses. no sir, gentlemen weren't usually at the parties. not that i'd know much about those. i was a downstairs maid by the time she became used to throwing them. too much noise, if you ask me. all those carriages and horses and shoes. all the ladies never quite seemed to be ladies, there was so much shouting and stamping and drinking. not that i don't mind myself a bit of sherry, but these women, i don't mind telling you that they could clear a pub before the tender knew he was out of stock! well, she always had whiskey, vile drink if you ask me, or white wine. not that she sipped either of 'em. she had white wine with every meal except breakfast, and then she'd have champagne. whiskey was for every time in between. one day, and this is the truth sir, she ran out of ink and used her whiskey to write with, if you can believe it! she did! the chambermaids saw it, clear as you like, and do you know she didn't even try to hide it? tacked it up on the door to the kitchen for all to see. and what do you suppose it was? it was a list of wines for a party that evening! no sir, i did not say she was a drunk. i just said that she drank. she was never rude, sir. nor violent, neither. she was always a lady, very sweet. oh, she had a temper, but in a pleasant sort of way, if you understand me.

Interview 3

of course we're upset, sir. it's not as if we're glad about the entire affair. why, i've worn through two pairs of shoes simply cleaning out the place. it's not a shack you know, and the lady was more than a bit of a pack rat. you don't mean to tell me that you've not seen the parlor? it's stuffed with clothes and paintings and shoes and music. i'm surprised the piano and organ were cleared out so quickly. they must have fetched a nice price. why yes, sir, all of its to be sold. she had no one to leave it to, of course. no, no children, at least none on the books. but i'd know if there'd been children, sir, as i've been here for the better part of twenty years. i was a young girl when i came, and i dont' mind telling you that the missus wasn't happy with me coming. oh, well, sir, she was a jealous type. didn't want anyone younger than herself working anywhere near her. she had no tolerance for competition. not that i could see what i was competing for. there were never any men about, at least, none that i saw. oscar, as i'm sure you've heard, was the only hired one.