#i try n stay clear of the discourse but this is a hill i might have to stand up on!

[jennycalendar]

just gonna go out and outright say it like . play with the slayer/vampire dichotomy all you want that's cool but maybe comparing spike wearing nikki wood's coat to a "berserker wearing animal skins" is not the win that you think it is and is actually horrendously fucking racist and the fact that apparently a whooOoOle bunch of my mutuals just REBLOGGED that is ! okay! still bothering me the next day

[happy-haunts]

Emily DeClaire Pt.2

EMILY DECLAIRE Pt. 2

Chapter one | Constance pt.1 : Constance pt.2

Chapter two | Mister Topper pt.1 : Mister Topper pt.2

Chapter three | Madame Leota pt.1 : Madame Leota pt.2

Chapter four | The Hostess

Chapter five | Captain Blood pt.1 : Captain Blood pt.2

Chapter six | Emily DeClaire pt.1 : Emily DeClaire pt.2 : Emily DeClaire pt.3

Chapter seven | Finale

!! WARNING THEMES OF VIOLENCE AND ABUSE !!

I can recall one night when I was eighteen, still hurting after William left, his stepmother and father were downstairs arguing with my grandfather about trying to bring William home when they heard about a rising threat in mutiny in the Naval forces.

“If you bring that bastard back to this town I will kill him.” I was relieved to know he was at least not dead, that meant he could return on his own.

“You have no power over the Gracey name.” Another man’s voice, Mister Gracey. “If you try to stop us we will ruin you, you may be the mayor but we have the town’s trust.”

“Do not cross me George, I would hate to see you and your dear wife get hurt.”

The next week I looked out my window and saw Vincent and Dorian in the graveyard at their parent’s funeral.

It had been eight years since then. 

Eight years since I left the house.

Eight years since Grandfather started to love me.

This house had become a sense of complacency, it felt as though this was the safest place for me.

If I never left I was never hurt, if I never left no one else would be hurt, if I never talked to anyone else they wouldn’t disappear.

My grandfather and I had begun having dinner together at the beginning and the end of every month, since those were the only dates when no parties were thrown or events seemed to be held.

He would have Delilah bring me a red dress, it had clearly been worn before so I suspected that it once belonged to grandmother.

We would eat and he would hold my hand, and then he would bring me to the living room where I would sing for him.

Grandfather would smile, his eyes taking in all of me.

I didn’t like it when he looked at me like that, but he assured me that it was because he loved me.

He would escort me back upstairs with his arm around my waist, then kiss me before leaving me to go to bed.

One night I had pushed him back, I told him I didn’t like when he kissed me like that.

“You wanted me to love you, Emily.” He held my arm tight as he pressed my back against the doorframe. “Or would you prefer to upset me?”

“No…”

“As I thought.” He was much more aggressive when he kissed me that night, pulling me close to him by the waist.

It all felt so wrong, my parents loved me and they didn’t treat me this way, not even William had treated me as such when I was young.

But still I stayed, because I had a family now that I had lost. Grandfather wouldn’t hurt me as long as I didn’t leave, as long as he never saw me leave.

The day was warm, even inside my room as I rested my head against the window the rays of the sun scorched me. But I didn’t much mind it, the warmth was a comfort to me.

But while I sat there I began to hear things which, I assumed might have just been my mind slowly creeping into insanity.

I was happily wrong about that though, for the sound became more clear and I made out a tune which sounded like it was coming from the street in front of the house.

“Damn it all!” I heard grandfather scream downstairs, “Those damn gypsies are going to disappear!”

Gypsies? I had never met a gypsy before, I wondered what they were like, they already seemed to have wonderful music.

I stood up and started to count the beats, then I stepped in time. Oh it felt so wonderful to dance again, I almost felt the shadows in my room materializing around me and joining in the dance, moving me around them as I kept rhythm, moving and moving until I bumped against my window.

Luckily it had been closed otherwise I may have fallen, although, as I looked down at the roofing above the porch I assured myself that even if I would have fallen it would have caught my landing.

It would have caught my landing.

No, I wouldn’t.

I won’t.

Even so the music called and I opened the window.

No.

I leaned out and felt the warm summer air stroke my cheeks. The feeling of the sun and the breeze felt like when mother and father would run their fingers through my hair.

Yes.

I stepped up onto the window ledge.

I jumped.

I stumbled a bit at first but soon found the edge of the overhang and wobbled off the edge, falling into the wildflowers which decorated the hill in grandfather’s backyard.

As I gathered myself I realized I had lost my shoes, but I brushed that off and headed toward the music.

The town was so full of people! Children pointed to the band of gypsies which danced in the street just beyond the front of Grandfather’s house. Couples glanced at them with silent amusement, I could tell from some smirks and gawking they were impressed by the group.

Unfortunately the awe was short-lived when the authorities showed up, they knocked over boxes and hats used to collect money, they poked and antagonized the gypsy entertainers, and when one of the men began raising his fist they hit him with a club.

I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp while onlookers hurried to walk past the scuffle, they were ignoring them.

I had to duck into the shadow of a building when I noticed grandfather come out of the house, he surveyed the scene and smiled.

“Officers, I trust you have this handled?” He tipped his head as thanks and the officers replied in kind with eager nods.

‘I should go back to my room while he is out of the house.’ I had thought, ‘No, he’s gone into the town square, you should stay.’

I pressed my back against the building I hid beside, panic was filling my chest as I urged myself to not do something reckless.

But I am selfish, and I did not listen.

I hurried toward the scuffle and stepped between an officer and a gypsy man, the officer was confused for a moment and then gave a devious grin.

“Look at the little canary boys,” I instinctively clutched the fabric of my yellow dress. “What’s a little birdie like you gonna do?” That was an excellent question, I hadn’t thought that far. I knew I needed to act but how I would act never crossed my mind.

“Why did you hit him?”

“What is this your daddy?” I furrowed my brow at his taunt.

“My father is dead, I want to know why you believe physical violence would suit you better than words?”

“They are not allowed to be here, in the town.”

“And who says that?”

“Mayor DeClaire, which means you and your little gypsy friends had better get out.” He leaned closer to me, making me arch myself backwards.

“Is it a law?” He hesitated for a moment, I took advantage of that. “If it is not a law then how can you enforce such an act? Would you do the same to the townsfolk?”

“Of course not! You are gypsies! You’ve come here to rob us and ruin our town.”

“Are you?” I asked the gypsy man behind me, he seemed rather shocked that I was asking at all.

“N-no! We are entertainers, we have nothing else to sell but our talents!” I looked back to the officer who I could see was under pressure.

“The mayor told me about these thieves and they are not allowed in this town!” I saw him adjusting his club as though he was itching to strike me.

But the town was crowding around and some of the amused on-lookers from before started in on the officers.

“If there is no law forbidding gypsies then why are we barring them from our town?”

“Why does the mayor believe they thieve and ruin our town?”

The discourse had begun now between the town and the officers- I took this moment to turn to the group of entertainers and file them away to the woods.

“Thank you,” the man I had stood in front of said to me, “I am Joshua, I lead this group of misfits.”

“A pleasure to meet you, I’m Emily, it’s my first time in town.”

“Well that much is obvious, you could have gotten yourself killed for speaking out like that.”

“But why?”

“Because of this town’s beloved mayor, you’ll need to be careful not to run into him after this- he’ll have your hide.” I began squeezing my fingers, Joshua didn’t know the half of it. “But if you need to seek shelter you are more than welcome to stay here, if you had not have stepped in we would have brawled with those damn corrupt trash.”

“Now, it’s not their fault it seems to be that they’re only doing what the mayor says. I’m sure if I talk to him then-.”

“Have you forgotten what I’ve said? He’ll have your hide!”

“Well I would like to help somehow, if you are not allowed to go into town then I will.”

“Ha! They will have a manhunt out after you! You’ll be caught within a week.” I gave him a playful smirk and crossed my arms proudly.

“I like those odds, I wager I’ll raise money for you and have you living like kings!” Joshua couldn’t hold back his laughter, he slapped me on the back.

“You got a deal Miss Emily, say, if you win then I’ll make you a gypsy like us.” As we approached the camp I began to take in the area, wagons with busted wheels which needed repair sat in a semi-circle around a large fire, clothes hung pinned to strings that were attached between wagons, and the people… Oh the people… They were dancing.

I took an excited step forward but stepped back - not wanting to intrude on their festivities.

“We don’t have much, but we celebrate every day nonetheless.”

“How wonderful!” The excitement was building in my chest, I grabbed Joshua’s hand and met his gaze. “Won’t you join me in a dance?”

“I am more of a look-out-.”

“Just one dance?” I begged, the music called me just as it called me this morning.

“Alright, one dance.” He chuckled.

It was liberating.

I twirled, pivoted, and glided.

I soared.

Before I knew it the sun was going down and the light turned all the trees golden, I bid the entertainers farewell and danced all the way home. People on the streets would whisper about me and called me ‘gypsy’, in response I would take their hands and have them join me in a dance. This would either result in flushed faces or reluctant laughter, I climbed the tree in the backyard which was planted close enough for me to walk up the overhang and back into my room.

I flopped onto my bed with a satisfied smile, what a wonderful day.

———

The coming days were similar, I would go out of my window and into the streets of Liberty Square and perform.

I would stand near the back of the town by the tree line which held the gypsy camp inside and sing.

“Alas my love you do me wrong,

To cast me off discourteously;

And I have loved you oh so long

Delighting in your company.”

People would gather near and throw coins, some would throw coins and continue listening. It felt good to sing to someone else, even more satisfying was that it would provide for the gypsies.

As the days turned to weeks I grew bolder and began asking the butcher for leftover meat he could not sell, I bought stale breads, and stale cakes.

I had won the bet, and I was now an official gypsy.

I remember one of the best days I had was when I had seen grandfather in the town, he was arguing with the officers about me.

“If I paid you for your morality, Gail, I would have given you a cross not a badge! Find that gypsy and rid this town of her lies!”

So I ducked into the only shop beside me, which was the Haberdashery.

That was the first day I met Mister Topper, he tried to keep as busy as he could and ignore me but I convinced him to see me the next day! And the next day.

And the next day.

But I think you get it.

Right from the start I had slipped and told him I was a DeClaire, but I told myself I wouldn’t say anything about grandfather just like before. If he didn’t ask then there was no sense in bringing it up.

However, that was what set Mister Topper apart from William, he always asked about me. Topper would be working on his hats and I would sit beside him asking about his family, his life, and of course hats.

“Well, my life is rather boring I suppose.” He had said while he brushed one of the hats, “When I was sixteen or seventeen my mother and father disappeared after leaving to help a friend of he family - he’s died young from what I heard, god rest his soul.” Topper sighed, “So I took over the family business and my brother, Ezra, hitchhiked out of town. I did everything possible to advertise the Haberdashery seeing as it controlled whether I would eat that night or not, I gained quite a reputation. I’ve been to Persia, Tokyo, Paris, Milan, Egypt, and many more all just to make hats for the rich and noble.”

“Oh! That sounds so grand, what was it like?”

“It was the same as every other country, it was shit, this hat makes my head feel like a pea - this one has too much fabric. Everyone's a critic.” He grumbled and placed one of the hats inside a hatbox to wait for it’s owner to arrive.

“I don’t know, I think it would be lovely to see the Nile river, I hear it goes on for Niles and niles!” Mister Topper chuckled and placed his hand over mine, he leaned in for a kiss and I instinctively drew back.

“Oh, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-.”

“No! No! It’s not your fault! I just have a …” I looked away to try and think of the words, “A bad history with … affection.” He was silent for a moment, I could feel his eyes on me- surveying me.

“May I ask why? If it’s not too much?”

“Oh no, no!” I laughed and waved my hand, giving a small shrug. “It’s just this man I know … He …” I was shaking, as though speaking about it might cause me to drop dead. “He kisses me … And I’m too scared to stop him.” I winced thinking about it, “I’ve tried before and he -.” I looked at Mister Topper now and was unable to speak, his brown eyes were warm as they intently kept attention on me. “I don’t want to think about it anymore, I … I can’t think about it anymore.”

“Of course, Emily.” He took my hands and gave my knuckles little pecks, “We’ll take all the time you need, I promise.”

“Thank you, I’ve never told anyone about this before, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? Silly girl.” He laughed and gave my knuckles more kisses, “I can’t say I don’t want to know, I can’t say that I wish you would have told me sooner, but I can say that I am glad you are comfortable enough with me to tell me.” He smiled, his smiles were more than comforting - they told me someday all that I worried about would be gone. “And I’ll be here when you’re comfortable enough to finish the story.”

“I love you.” I blurted but pursed my lips when I realized I let my words get away from me. Mister Topper turned red and he tightened his grip on my hands.

“I love you too, Emily.” tears rolled down my cheeks as I smiled.

“Thank you, thank you…” He hushed me and pulled me into his arms. “Thank you, Horatio.”

Everything was perfect, my life was as close to perfection as it was humanly possible to get. I was in love, I had wonderful friends and making more!

Even that evening when I was getting dressed for dinner with grandfather I didn’t feel as drained, in fact as we sat at the dinner table I listened to what he was saying.

“And those damn gypsies are still pestering me, they’ve recruited one little whore to seduce my officers and render me powerless.”

“But why do you hate the gypsies?” Grandfather paused as he was about to eat a mouthful of stew, I normally only nodded when he spoke to me. “What have they done?”

“They’re thieves and vandals.”

“How do you know?” I could tell he was getting annoyed, but if there was a chance I could change his mind I would try.

“Because of their blood, they were born from poverty and thieves - so they will always be in poverty and resort to thievery.” He grabbed his wine and began angrily gulping it down.

“That’s not true.”

“What did you say to me?” He snarled.

“I-I just think that perhaps they’re more than that.” I smiled while stirring my stew, “Maybe some of them strive for more, like being great musicians… And as far as the canary goes -.”

“I never mentioned the canary.” I quickly ate a spoonful of my stew, grandfather had set down his spoon and took off his napkin. “They say she has an exceptional voice, a little gypsy girl …” He stood from the table and walked around behind my chair. “With a crown of wildflowers decorating her hair, and a yellow dress complimenting her frame.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, which had begun trembling. “Emily… Won’t you sing for me?”

“I-I’m not quite finished-.”

“Emily.” He growled.

“Yes, sir.”

Tonight was different as I sang ‘Greensleeves’ to grandfather, usually his gaze looked dreamily over me as if I were a serving of juicy steak. Tonight his gaze was filled to the brim with rage, but more than that his rage was unsure. Grandfather was more than ready to lash out at me, but could not confirm that I was the person he wanted to lash out on.

But then he relaxed, he smiled, and escorted me to my room as he usually had - moving to kiss me but I placed two fingers on his lips.

“Oh-um… Sir, I think I must be coming down with a cold from the dust in my room.” I said rather sheepishly, “I would hate for you to catch it.”

His rage began creeping up once more, as red began spreading from his neck to his face. But once more he was unsure if his anger was rightly placed and he took hold of my chin tighty. “Fine then, I will take double once you are better.” I said nothing and instead slipped into my bedroom, he did not leave just yet. Instead grandfather gave a long look over my barren room before resting his gaze upon my yellow dress which rested on my bed. “Goodnight, Emily.” And he closed the door.

------

I decided to lay low for a day or two before heading back into town to collect more money for the gypsies, when I went to deliver my goods to them they had invited me to stay and dance - and who was I to argue?

I danced with them till the sun went down and then began my walk home in the dark, swinging myself around lantern posts and humming. The last thing I expected on my walk home was a group of pirates, they were grouped together along the sidewalk holding sacks filled with something. What’s worse is one of them looked at me and gave a hoot and holler.

“Oi! What is this we have here? A pretty little treasure walking all on her own?”

“Henry, leave her alone.” A large man said, to the other who had a face like a turtle.

“No, no Henry’s right! She’s wearing gold, Charlie, so that means she’s free to take with us.” They circled me while I backed up to a lamppost.

“Like that little canary everyone is talking about, tell me little birdie do you sing?”

“Guys! Come on let’s go.” Charlie insisted.

I mustered up every ounce of courage in my body and belted out a song I hadn’t had a chance to perform just yet.

“Got a whale of a Tale to tell ya lads! A whale of a Tale or two!” They looked rather astonished, but more so when I began dancing around them. It was my turn to be surprised when they even joined in the song with me.

I heard clapping once we had finished and when I turned to see who it was, I couldn’t believe it.

William.

“WILLIAM!” I screamed and ran for him, tackling him in a hug as we laughed.

----

“Wait, that’s not how He told it.” Terra furrowed her brows in confusion.

“No it’s not.” I looked at the pirate which had been put on trial, he was glowing a deep blue while he refused to look at us. “William is rather private when it comes to emotional moments, but I …” I linked my arm around his, “I don’t mind.”

-----

“Emily! You’re much shorter than I remember!” He twirled me around in his arms, I giggled.

“I think you’ve gotten taller!”

“After all this time, I can’t believe I would find you here.” He set me back on my feet and placed his hands on my shoulders. His ocean blue eyes were so much brighter than when he was in that house, he was different now than before - matured perhaps? “They’d convinced me you went to a convent and you will not BELIEVE the nunsense I’ve been up to.”

Still William.

“Oh? You’ll have to tell me.” He cocked his head to the side as he examined me.

“What’s wrong? You’ve gotten so serious Emily.”

“No I haven’t!”

“Dancing with pirates aside, you don’t seem as carefree.”

“Well we were children then, I’m obligated to grow into a young woman.” He looked me up and down and grinned.

“You surely are, and I’ve enough gold to take us wherever we want to go! I have a ship now, and oh! Remember how you always wanted to go to Spain?”

“I wanted alot of things back then, William, I was a rather selfish child.” I rubbed my arms and gave a little smile, I didn’t like thinking about when we were younger.

“Emily?” He smoothed my shoulders with his hands, “You can say whatever you need to, okay? Like if… You moved on.”  

“Well, I have… His name is Horatio Topper, and he is so sweet, you would love him William.”

“Horatio, huh? Sounds like a priest I probably pissed off.”

“William!”

“What are you doing out here so late anyway? Do you know what kinds of goons you could have come across? Bandits? Gypsies?”

“Oh stop it, the Gypsies are wonderful people, I just got done dancing with them.”

“Ah, dancing with gypsies and pirates - there’s the Emily I remember!” We started walking back to grandfather’s house, reminiscing on old times and filling each other in on our lives as of late. For me that meant telling William about the gypsies and the canary.

“I’ll have to stop by one of your shows, I missed hearing you sing.” He lingered a moment as I stood before grandfather’s house, “Well, I ought to let you go- I know how protective your grandfather is.”

“Yes… I’ll try to visit you William.”

“You’d better, little one!” He chuckled and gave a small wave before leaving.

----

The next evening was important to me for two reasons, I had met Madame Leota that evening and we made our deal, as well as Mister Topper and I …

I had been watching him work, his hands glided over the smooth fabric, sewing, mending, and determined to make this hat - which looked similar to all of his fantastic hats- the best hat among them. He always strived for perfection in his work, that is what made him the best.

But as he glanced over to me and smirked, I knew I was ready… I knew.

I placed my hand on his cheek and kissed him.

The kiss was long and deep, it felt as though it only lasted a few moments but the reality was we were kissing so long that we had not heard William come in to purchase a hat.

Perfect.

My life was perfect.

The coming days Mister Topper and I danced, we visited William, we were in love.

I stayed till closing with Mister Topper one night and went with him upstairs to his living quarters, we had dinner and I laid with him on his bed while I hummed to him.

“Lovely, you have a lovely voice, Emily.”

“That’s what they pay me for.” I stated rather proudly, I snuggled closer to him and bit my lower lip. Was I ready to tell him? Was I ready to show?

I sat up on the bed and began unbuttoning my dress, making Mister Topper panic and grab my hands.

“E-Emily!”

“No, Mister Topper please.” I whispered, my back to him. He hesitantly released my hands and I took off the yellow dress, I sat before him in my undergarments the Chemise I wore scooped low enough that the ‘B’ which decorated my spine was visible.

“Dear god … Emily what is this?”

“When I was Seventeen.” I shut my eyes while I focused on getting the words out. “My grandmother was grieving over the loss of my father and I know she … she must have been missing him so much, and she must have hated that I have his eyes. So one day after she had been pushed too far, she branded me.”

“Emily …” He held me close to him, rocking me back and forth while kissing my head. “I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”

“It’s okay,” I smiled up to him, “I’m okay now.”

What more could I say?

I didn’t want to make him anymore concerned.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” I whispered, resting my head on his chest once more.

“Of course, my dear, would you want me to sleep on the floor beside you?”

“No!” I gripped his shirt, “Please, I want to hold onto you.”

I had never slept so soundly, I had never felt so satisfied, I could never go back to that house.

I should have never gone back to that house.

The sunlight filtered into the room, Mister Topper and I woke in eachothers arms. We made breakfast and I had spent the day with him once again, keeping him company on his work bench and exchanging kisses every so often as he worked.

As the sun set I gave him one long kiss on the lips before leaving to the house, climbing into my window and flopping onto my bed with a delighted sigh. I didn’t even bother to shake the wildflowers from my hair as I slept and dreamed of being back at the Haberdashery with Mister Topper.

———

The next morning I woke by hearing my door opening, thinking it was Delilah bringing in the leftovers from breakfast I rolled onto my side with a dreamy smile.

“Good morning.” Came my grandfather’s voice, I snapped my eyes open and saw him standing there with his hands clasped behind his back- face a bright red. “And where have you been, I wonder?”

“What do you mean?” I could only whisper now it seemed.

“The late Mrs. Harper could not host her party this week, due to the disappearance of Mr. Harper, so I had thought we might have dinner together as a treat.” My heart sank, I thought perhaps I could vomit. “But when I came to your room you were not here, and again still in the morning you were gone.”

“I’m sorry I just … I was just…” I couldn’t think of a lie.

“It was remarkable timing as well, since I had just been to the Haberdashery this week…” I could feel my eyes widen as I sat up on the bed now. “I was hoping to ask you about it over dinner, but I have my answer now.” He stepped toward me, plucking a dry petal from my hair and pulling a small journal from his pocket. Within the pages of the journal he revealed wildflowers pressed inside, the petals matched the ones in my hair. “You must be quite infatuated, staying there for two days.” He snapped the journal shut, but I reached out for it- to grasp the only thing of Mister Topper’s. Grandfather grabbed my hand and pulled me up to his face, placing the journal under my chin to keep my eyes trained on him.

“Please, you said you loved me, then love me enough to leave him alone.”

“You dumb little whore.” He growled and threw me back onto my bed. “You belong to me, how dare you!” He dropped the journal as he grabbed my throat, his fingers burned on my skin, my vision had white sparks flickering within it’s corners. “I PROVIDED FOR YOU, I GAVE YOU A HOME! YOU BELONG TO ME!” He threw me on the ground and pressed his boot on my leg, I thought for sure he would break it. “I’ll do better than I did with William, I’ll make sure he can’t return.”

“No!” I screamed and grabbed his leg in an attempt to push him off of me- but he was built like solid brick.

“You wanted this.” He growled, “You wanted me to love you.”

He stepped away and picked up Mister Topper’s journal, walking out of the door.

I heard the lock snap into place.

My throat hurt but I wasn’t going to waste any time, I jumped from the window, stumbling down the overhang and landing on my back in the wildflowers - I ran to the Haberdashery and burst through the door.

Mister Topper dropped the bowler he had been working on and looked at me, “Good lord Emily I-.” He looked me over a little more and hurried to my side. “Emily what’s happened?”

“We need to leave, we need to leave now!”

“What? Why? I can’t just leave … My work…” But he trailed off as he touched my neck. “Emily, what happened? Who did this?”

I shook my head while tears rolled down my cheeks, “There is no time! We must leave!”

“You must tell me why! Someone has hurt you Emily please, just explain.”

“Because… He’s coming to kill you Mister Topper and I won’t let him take you away from me.”

“Who? The King of Persia? Because he is the only one who actually stood a chance.” Mister Topper chuckled but I grabbed his coat.

“We must leave, you have to trust me.”

“Emily, who hurt you? Who is coming to kill me?”

“My grandfather! He’s stolen your journal and he is coming to kill you!” I felt like a thread that had been pulled taut and split in half. “He treats me like a possession and you’ve tainted it! He puts his lips on me and no one else! He makes me feel DISGUSTING!” My voice was shrill as I stepped away from Mister Topper, “AND HE IS COMING TO KILL YOU!”

“Good god Emily…” I rubbed away the tears with my palms, avoiding his gaze.

“Please don’t tell anyone, I just want to leave here with you.”

“And we will, Emily, I’ll leave here with you tomorrow evening.”

“What?” I finally brought my gaze to his, “But what if he comes here? What if he takes you?”

“I’d like to see him try, he may be built like a redwood but he’s still older than I.”

“I-I suppose… But I don’t want him to find me here, if he catches me out again I…” Mister Topper rested his hands on my shoulders and kissed my head.

“My sweet Emily, I can’t believe all this… So much has happened and how your spirit is still so alive.”

“It hardly feels like it..” I whispered, “I must go before he discovers me again, you promise I’ll see you tomorrow evening?” I hesitated a moment before adding, “Promise me everything will be alright?”

“It will, everything will be fine, Emily.” He gave me a long kiss and I went right back to the window.

[xtruss]

Opinion

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez's Eloquence in the Face of Arrogance is a Master Class

By eviscerating a Republican’s excuse for his foul-mouthed abuse the congresswoman showed the power of rhetoric

— Francine Prose | Guardian USA | Tuesday July 28, 2020

It’s worth watching the video to see how Ocasio-Cortez, without particular outrage or emotion, pronounces three words that explode like smart bombs in the decorous House.’ Photograph: AP

Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s 23 July address to the House of Representatives was a welcome reminder of what political speech can be: eloquent, lucid, truthful, intelligent, moving and persuasive. It also made you aware of how low public discourse has sunk. From both sides of the aisle, we hear soundbites, attacks, promises that vanish before the ink dries, reasons the rich should prosper while the poor stay poor. We’ve learned to accept the word salad – rambling, digressive, inarticulate, salted with evasions, distortions and lies – we’re served whenever Trump comes to the table.

By contrast, Ocasio-Cortez’s address was a masterpiece of heartfelt, unadorned plain speech that (consciously or instinctively) employed the tools of the orator, the rhetorician and preacher. What carries us is repetition, rhythm, emphasis, cadence, pronunciation (the congresswoman leans into her Bronx vowels) and a seamless transition from each event or idea to its larger implications.

Walking up the steps of the US Capitol building, the congresswoman, as she tells it, was “minding my own business” when she was “accosted” by Representative Ted Yoho, a Republican from Florida, who “put his finger in my face … He called me disgusting, he called me crazy, he called me out of my mind, he called me dangerous.” Then she went into the building to vote, to make sure, she adds, that her constituents from New York’s 14th district can keep their homes, feed their families and live with dignity.

When she reappeared on the steps, Yoho, in front of the press, called her, “and I quote, ‘a fucking bitch’.”

It’s worth watching the video to see how Ocasio-Cortez, without particular outrage or emotion, pronounces three words that explode like smart bombs in the decorous House. The insult is horrifying, but she’s not all that horrified. Because she’s had working-class jobs, she’s heard it before. She’s “tossed men out of bars”. So she’s not some fragile flower – read female – who can’t take the rough and tumble of Capitol Hill. Yoho’s abuse was neither “deeply hurtful” nor “piercing” to her, though she notes that his behavior was not an isolated event but part of a “culture of impunity” that accepts “violence and violent language against women”. By saying it in front of a reporter, he was giving other men “permission” to do the same.

It’s too bad this had to happen, but I, for one, am glad that “fucking bitch” has been entered – for the first time, I assume – into the Congressional Record. As hateful as those words are, they alone can express the nastiness, rage and contempt that are heavily diluted when the insult is euphemized into “a vulgar slur” or (as Yoho’s spokesman sweetly described it) “a barnyard epithet”.

Meanwhile Ocasio-Cortez’s speech takes another turn. She’d been ready to let the incident go, “pack it up and go home – It’s just another day, right?” But what drove her to speak up were the excuses Yoho gave Congress, insisting that it was all a “misunderstanding”, that “having been married for 45 years with two daughters, I’m very cognizant of my language”.

In a few rhythmic sentences, Ocasio-Cortez pulverizes the “daughter defense” – the suggestion, made by men including Brett Kavanaugh and Mitch McConnell, that having female children automatically makes them more sensitive and respectful to women.

“And this I could not allow … I could not allow the victims of verbal abuse, and worse to see that – to see that excuse and see our Congress accept it as legitimate. I do have issue with using women, our wives and daughters as shields, as excuses for poor behavior. I am someone’s daughter too. I am their daughter, and they did not raise me to accept abuse from men.”

“Having a daughter does not make a man decent. Having a wife does not make a decent man. Treating people with dignity and respect makes a decent man.”

That resonant word, decent, may remind some listeners of how the chief counsel for the US army, Joseph N Welch, began the downfall of the destructive and despotic Senator Joseph McCarthy by asking the famous question, “Have you no sense of decency?”

“She’s Different From What We’re Used to Hearing. She Makes Us Pay Attention!”

Ocasio-Cortez ends her speech with more repetitions (accost … without remorse) and variations as she thanks Representative Yoho and brings us full circle back to the Capitol steps. “I want to thank him for showing the world that you can be a powerful man and accost women. You can have daughters and accost women without remorse. You can take photos and project an image to the world of being a family man and accost women without remorse and with a sense of impunity. It happens every day in this country. It happened here on the steps of our nation’s Capitol. It happens when individuals who hold the highest office in this land admit, admit to hurting women, and using this language against all of us.”

In rhetoric, the name for the repetition of an opening phrase is anaphora, and if you Google the word, several sites direct you to Marin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. I’m not suggesting that Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez comes anywhere near MLK’s oratorical powers, but she’s on her way. She’s different from what we’re used to hearing. She makes us pay attention. With her tone, word choice, posture, her honesty, she makes it clear (in case it needs clarification) that women are as articulate, intelligent and brave as any man. Women have been accused of being irrational but the logic of Ocasio-Cortez’s speech proves (in case it needs proving) that women are as cool-headed as any man, certainly more than Yoho.

If, in the future, there are public speaking classes, students might study Ocasio-Cortez’s speech, which has been widely tweeted, viewed on YouTube and other social media. At least 10 of those views are mine. This was partly because she was speaking for me and every woman who has ever been called a fucking bitch. But I also kept watching because, as someone who, to quote Yoho’s sad, stiffly awkward phrase, is “cognizant of language”, I wanted to watch the congresswoman’s speech and try to figure out how she did it.

— Francine Prose is a former president of PEN American Center and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences