~ The Pawn ~

by

Nancy Minnis Damato

The stone mansion rose like a sacrificial altar in the midst of the green patchwork fields. Inside, shoulders squared, Josefina Taylor glared across the breakfast table into Father’s cold eyes. "I cannot do what you ask." Her protest hovered at the open windows of the sunroom, threatening to destroy the surrounding serenity.

"Ask?" Josef Taylor bellowed. "Mine is not a request. You will carry out your part as I command, or you will remain locked in this house until your teeth rot and your hair hangs in wisps."

The danger of her platinum curls paling into transparent shreds seemed absurd. I can never live the life Father and the church demand. With Mother’s increasing bouts of melancholia, Josefina had managed Father’s household remarkably well, although he would never agree. No matter how hard she tried, he always furrowed his brow and directed her attention to a shortcoming on her part. Josefina stretched her small frame as tall as possible, her silence thickening the air.

"If that is your mind," Father rasped, "I can accommodate such defiance by withdrawing permission for you to attend François’s banquet this evening." His eyes flashed, "And, for your furtive shopping trip in two days. Rid us all of the gloating you bandy about with such relish."

Josefina waited quietly.

"I should never have allowed Mother to convince me you had earned that foolish coming-of-age gala François orchestrated." Josef slapped his newspaper on the breakfast table. Accompanied by the clatter of nested china, the unfurled print announced BANKERS GATHER.

Josefina jabbed at the dark banner. "After this charade, I will be thought a fool, lacking the sense to make an everyday decision. Any other woman could portray the submissiveness you demand--and to your satisfaction. You know I choke on every word."

Josef rose, scowling, his stocky body forbidding.

"You brought in tutors from outside our community," Josefina reasoned, "to teach me law, history, finance. Pressed me to excel at my studies." Her words tumbled out in rapid fire, sharp and shrill. "Why now, when I stand on the brink of womanhood, do you demand I appear foolish and unschooled before your peers?"

Josefina knew she pressed too hard, and worse, with Father’s least appreciated reasoning. In step with their patriarchal society, Father disapproved of women exhibiting ambition and ignored their competency. Josefina had given up her lifelong dream of serving in Father’s bank after he killed her aspiration with one declaration. "No woman will ever be granted a chair at the table in my board room, nor on any other bank seat--unless she comes seeking mastery of her inheritance."

Despite Father’s feelings, Josefina had no choice but to rely on his investment in her; she had exhausted every other reason to be freed of this pending humiliation.

Father growled, "I indulged your education solely to protect Mother, judging your brothers poorly inclined to protect the family’s interests should I fall into decline. For that lapse, never prove me wrong."

He cleared his throat noisily. "As for this ‘charade’ as you refer to it, a widowed Austrian of title and an Elder of The Church seeks a permanent alliance with Worldwide Bank," Josef shrugged, "obtainable within the rights of a marriage contract." His voice calmed; his gaze appeared preoccupied. "There are children near your age. They will provide you with company."

The hard edge of the chair seat struck Josefina’s backside before she realized her knees had buckled. Widower? Elder? Father had said "provide you with company".

Josef ignored his daughter’s near collapse. "The gossips ruminate over your willfulness and aired ambitions. They warn The Elders I allow you too much privilege. You must prove them just that, rumormongers, without foundation." Josef grabbed up the newspaper and strode across the room. "As for this marriage offer," he declared, "I, too, wish to bind our interests."

"I have a right to choose my own future," Josefina called after his departing back.

"Your only ‘right’ is what I grant you," Josef countered over his shoulder. At the archway he stopped and turned around to face her. "Do not make a fool of me, daughter. You know very well I never engage in idle threats. Such folly would not be worth your grief suffered." His glacial blue eyes never wavered.