Wednesday's Word: Bully. An Excerpt from The Invisible Maid

  Welcome to Wednesdays where I share a snippet from one of my stories using the previous day's word from the New York Times' game. WORDLE. Yesterday's WORDLE was BULLY. 

Here's an excerpt from The Invisible Maid, a story now available on Kindle Vella.

READ NOW ON THE KINDLE VELLA PLATFORM

That night, I awoke to a commotion in the courtyard. Could it be Collin spying on Mr. Griffin’s ghost again?

Beside me, Millie lay on her side, her breath whistling. I edged toward the window. Moonlight glistened on the snow. A burly man with a cap pulled down around his ears faced Tommy. They stood directly below my window. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but from the man’s threatening stance, I could tell he wasn’t sharing pleasantries or chatting about the weather.

The man pushed Tommy’s shoulder and sent him stumbling backward. When Tommy scrambled to his feet, the oaf kicked him in the chest, keeping Tommy down.

My thoughts raced. I had to help, but how? I watched, horrified, as the man punched Tommy in the face. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was like a blow to my own belly. I pulled back from the window, unable to bear to watch. My gaze landed on the chamber pot beneath the bed. I nudged it with my foot. Empty. Was that good or bad?

Tommy’s cries floated up through the window. I picked up the pot. I knew the likelihood of hitting anyone was as slim as Tommy himself, but perhaps the surprise of a flying chamber pot would stop the beating. But for how long?

Tommy whimpered again, falling to his knees, and I didn’t waste another moment. I drew up the sash and aimed for the brute’s head.

As my pot sailed out the window, more questions sailed in, like what if it hit him? What if the BULLY discovered who had tossed the pot? Would he then come after me or Millie?

But when the chamber pot landed true and broke into pieces on the crown of the big man’s head, I had only one question. Now what?

I knew I should duck and hide but horror kept me transfixed on the collapsing body. Beside the big man, Tommy stood and tried to run but cried out, crumpled to the ground, and grabbed his foot.

“Good for you.” Millie clucked behind me.

I flashed a look at my sister. “Brussels sprouts are good for me. I think this could be very bad for me.” I threw a wrapper over my nightgown.

“Where are you going?”

“To see if I’m a murderer.”

“Stop.” Millie put a hand on my arm. “Don’t go.”

I again looked out the window, and guilt swelled in my chest. “Tommy’s hurt.” I hadn’t meant to kill Tommy’s tormentor, and I certainly hadn’t meant to injure Tommy.

I threw Millie a wry smile, grabbed the quilt off the bed, and slipped out the door. Relief tingled down my back when Millie followed.

In the alley, I threw the quilt over Tommy’s shoulders while Millie bent over the big man. Chamber-pot fragments lay scattered around his prone form. I glanced up and down the quiet alley, searching for witnesses to my crime. A breeze blew dead leaves, but nothing else stirred.

“He’s alive,” Millie pronounced, standing and shivering from the cold.

I fought a sob of relief. I knew the big man would be more trouble alive than dead, but I also didn’t want to be a murderer.

“Drat!” Tommy exclaimed when he again attempted to stand.

I rounded on Tommy. “You half-wit! Do you owe this man money?”

Wincing, Tommy scrambled to his feet and balanced on his one good foot. “What do you think?”

I pushed him, and he fell onto his backside. He stared up at me open-mouthed and looking like a dead fish. I grabbed Millie’s arm and towed her back inside where it was warm and we’d be safe. I let the door slam behind us.

“What about Solari?” Tommy hobbled through the door and rose on his toes so his nose matched mine. “Are we going to leave him here?”

I grabbed Millie’s wrist so I could tug her up the stairs. “He’s your mess.” I tossed the words over my shoulder. “You clean him up.”