Phantom Manor Ch8

CHAPTER 8:

A sad song played out from the piano. The exuberant singers were gone and the light outside was dimming. Melanie still sat watching the people who passed back and forth, though fewer were now coming in than going out.

The bartender absentmindedly cleaned the same spot he had been cleaning five minutes before; the pianist only swayed a little with the mournful tune that needed no words; the poker players had abandoned their game and were talking in hushed voices about times long gone.

Melanie looked toward the clock. She had been there for nearly four hours now. Her father would be so angry when she finally got back to the manor, but she didn’t care. It had been nice to go and visit the town.

She stood up from her chair and started to walk out when her cloak fell off. She knelt to pick it up, but when she turned back around again, there was a man standing in front of her.

His eyes were red and blood shot and held something sinister behind them. His lips were curled up into a peculiar smile that sent shivers down Melanie’s spine.

“Well, well, well, look at what we got here boys,” he said and a group of men at the table behind him snickered, “If it isn’t Miss Melanie Ravenswood. Why, I would know you anywhere, Henry puts up all them photos of you all over town. I almost feel like I’ve grown up with ya, ain’t that right boys?”

“Yessir.”

“How about you let me go buy ya a drink, eh?”

“N-No thank you, I’ll just be going.” Melanie tried to push her way past him but he grabbed her around the waist and swung her around until she landed down hard in a chair beside one of his friends.

“Come on and give us a kiss there, sugar,” mocked a grizzled man next to her.

“Pucker up sweetheart.”

“Ain’t she pretty when she’s scared spitless.”

“Don’t worry honey, we don’t bite.”

“Excuse me, sirs, but I’m afraid I’ll need to ask you to leave,” said the bartender suddenly. He had sensed the trouble and came to the rescue of the poor girl.

“Hey buddy, you just serve us our drinks and mind yer own business,” said the man who had first approached her, shoving the bartender aside.

The next thing Melanie knew, she was sitting amidst chaos. People were punching each other across tables and turning over chairs. She leaped to her feet and tried to run from the room, but something -- or someone -- grabbed her and she feel to the floor.

She closed her eyes and winced knowing she was sure to be trampled when suddenly she felt herself lifted up in the air. She opened her eyes and found herself sitting shakily on a bench in front of the saloon. Beside her sat Andrew Fletcher, a concerned look on his face.

“Miss Ravenswood, are you alright?...Miss Ravenswood, can you hear me?”

“Y-Yes,” she finally stuttered.

“Are you hurt? Do you need somethin’?”

“No…I….I think I’m fine…just a little shook up.”

“Well I’ll bet,” he laughed nervously, “I mean, I’ve never been to Philadelphia but I’d bet they don’t have any fights like they do in western saloons.”

“Do you mean…do you mean this happens regularly?”

“Pretty much every night. They started in a little earlier tonight than usual. It starts when some sucker gets too drunk and does somethin’ foolish, and then another fella says somethin’ foolish, and just like that, the whole lot of ‘em are throwing punches like no tomorrow. The best thing to do is to leave before it starts gettin’ dark.”

“One of those men…he tried to…to…” Melanie tried to get the words out of her mouth but she couldn’t. Her throat closed up and she tried so hard to force back the tears, but it was to difficult a task and soon they spilled down her cheeks like rivers.

“Miss Ravenswood, I know you’ve had a hard night, but trust me, none of those guys coulda ever touched you. They just fool around; they don’t ever do nothin’.”

“I hate this town,” she finally sobbed out, “I want to go home.”

“I can’t say I know how you feel,” he said, putting an assuring arm across her shoulders, “I grew up here and I’m used to it. I’d bet in a big city like where you came from, I’d be mighty scared.”

“But there’s nothing scary in Philadelphia.”

“Well, it depends on who you’re talkin’ to. I mean, I’m used to the small houses here, the open city streets. But in a big city, you can’t really walk right down the middle of the street. Why, I’d be dodgin’ carts and whatnot, and then I’d get lost cuz I’m not used to all those huge houses. I’d probably end up right where you are right now, only I’d be wishin’ to go to Thunder Mesa instead.”

“I still hate it here.”

“Now how could you say that when there are so many people here who care for you? There’s your father -- he cares about you more than a whole city of people. Then there’s Bertha Granger and all the people who went to your party. There’s Mr. Wright…and there’s me. I’d never let anythin’ bad happen to you, Miss Ravenswood.”

“Really,” she said trying to smother her sobs.

“Why of course! I didn’t go runnin’ into that brawl just cuz I think fightin’s fun. I remembered seein’ you in there earlier today and when I heard the fight broke out…well I knew you were new here and might not know to leave very early, so I went back and checked on you.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much Mr. Fletcher, I didn’t know what to do. I thought for sure--”

“No, no, no. Don’t think about it anymore. Why don’t I walk you back up to your daddy’s house? I bet he’s worried sick about you.”

Melanie just nodded her head and got to her feet, dusting off the parts of her skirt that had gotten dirty. She was so tired, Andrew had to half carry her home, but neither he nor Melanie minded very much.