Trembling With Fear 12/01/2019

​Mother Knows Best by Ashley Millette

Adelaide stood on a pedestal in front of a floor length mirror, twisting to either side to examine her new dress. The lights in the fitting room were dim, masking the rows of dresses lining its perimeter. A passerby wouldn’t know what lurked behind the walls of the innocuous brownstone. In the 1980s it had been the popular Beatrice’s Bridal Shop but over the years it had traveled down the family line and fallen into disarray. Now it served as the final resting place for long forgotten gowns, slowly eaten away by gypsy moths and time. 

Somewhere nearby a lock clinked and a door creaked open. Adelaide heard something heavy thump against the wall as Carl made his way through the darkness toward her. They hadn’t gotten around to replacing all of the lights yet. A sly smile slid across her face as he entered the spacious fitting room, his reflection fracturing and reforming as he made his way past a myriad of mirrors lining the bare walls. Grunting, Carl slid a large sack from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground.

“Darling, fix this won’t you?” Adelaide gestured toward the seam under her left arm, which had started to split open. Carl said nothing but was at her side instantaneously. Adelaide assessed herself in a mirror that rippled in the middle, evoking a fun house effect that made her stomach bulge and her legs shrink. She glowered at the manipulation and looked away, instead inspecting Carl’s hands as they reset the stitch in a flurry. 

The doctored image had jolted her and she could no longer keep thoughts of Mother out of her head. Mother could be so cruel. She just wanted Adelaide to be better she had said, to be smarter and prettier. And Adelaide had tried. She earned straight A’s and glowing reviews from teachers. But it wasn’t enough. And so Adelaide decided to enter the Tuscaloosa County Beauty Pageant. If she could win, she could prove to Mother that she was pretty. 

Adelaide prepared for weeks. From the local thrift store she procured a dress. It was old and tattered but a soft pink that illuminated her mousey brown hair. She fixed it up as best she could. From Mother’s jewelry box she had borrowed a pair of diamond earrings that glistened like the sun. Adelaide had never been one for fancy hairdos but she curled and sprayed and pinned until every last strand was in place. She left a note for Mother on the door before she left for the pageant. I have a wonderful surprise for you, she had written. 

But it was not wonderful. The judges were cruel like Mother. They had ripped her apart, piece by piece. Judge #1 hadn’t liked her dress. It belonged in the dumpster. Judge #2 didn’t like her earrings. They were cheap and fit for a harlot. And judge #3…oh how she hated Adelaide’s hair. You’d be better off with a wig, she had said. Any wig. Adelaide was turning to flee the stage when she saw Mother in the audience. Mother always looked so pretty. But she shook her head in disappointment, as she often did, and a single tear slid down Adelaide’s cheek. 

At home Adelaide had pleaded not to discuss the matter but Mother had chastised her anyway. “Let those judges be a lesson to you, darling. You must stop trying to be something you aren’t. You’ll never be pretty, you’ll only embarrass us. Trust me. Mother knows best.” They had not discussed it again. 

Mother smoked too much and drank even more and soon she found herself in an early grave. She’d left Adelaide nothing. And so she moved in with Carl, the mute neighbor boy who’d watched from the shadows until the day Adelaide ran into Judge #2. She’d seen her through the window of a shop downtown and followed her home. She’d only wanted to talk but the discussion became heated quickly, Judge #2 yelling obscenities about ugly girls who don’t know their place. Carl emerged from behind an alley dumpster and with one swift thrust of a shovel crushed the side of Judge #2’s skull into the pavement. Adelaide knew she should be horrified but she wasn’t. Instead, she ripped the beautiful (and most importantly, real) diamond earrings from the dead judge’s ears and frolicked off into the sunset with her Prince Charming. 

Judge #1 had been an easy mark too. And she had the most beautiful dresses. Adelaide couldn’t choose a single one so Carl made her a new one from the lot. Carl had no interest in running the bridal shop but oh, how he loved to snip and stitch. Judge #3 had been more difficult. She’d moved away with no forwarding address. But when they found her leading outdoor retreats in the Adirondacks Carl went to fetch her. Adelaide’s eyes flitted to the lumpy sack on the ground before returning to her own reflection. 

“I’m almost ready my love!” she announced, excitement overtaking her. Carl had finished with the seam and stood silently as she smoothed the beautiful dress and adjusted her new diamond earrings. “And now, for the final touch…” Adelaide trailed off as she pulled her mousey hair back into a tight bun. She gestured to Carl who kneeled down and pulled the sack open. A pair of feet, clad in hiking boots, spilled out, followed by the rest of a limp body. He pulled at something attached to Judge #3’s head and, when it wouldn’t give, made a single snip with his sewing scissors.

Carl stood behind her and fitted the hair onto her head, tucking remnants of scalp neatly underneath the hairline. Adelaide turned back to the mirror, her elation bubbling over and erupting into a smile. The long black curls fell like a dark waterfall over her shoulders and a single red drop slid down Adelaide’s cheek. She brushed it away.

“I’m so pretty,” she whispered. “Just like Mother.”