The Glass Rabbit

Mariah held up her skirt as she ran across the mansion, crying horribly loud. The party guests watched the host’s daughter sprint through the crowd, sobbing uncontrollably. She ran past them all, sniffing sporadically to catch her breath between tears. Mariah bolted into the study and slammed the door.

The crowd quieted in an instant, one could hear a pin drop, as they all simultaneously turned their heads to see her father standing at the top of the enormous staircase. He gripped the railing and leaned over, shouting across the room. “Mariah! Mariah!” He gave up and turned to his left to look at the young man standing beside him. The young man’s eyes sunk heavily in guilt. The father took the young man and walked him to another room upstairs.

Mariah pounded on the door. “How could you! You lousy, no-good, lying… no-good… liar! Oh!” She folded her arms aggressively. “He said he loved me,” she testified to herself. “Jesse said so when we were children! And now – oh! – now he says he’s in love with Elena. He and I were meant to be married and now… now! Oh! Now he’s a liar! A liar!” She stomped her foot.

“Don’t forget lousy, and no-good.” Mariah suddenly turned around and pinned herself against the door. She saw a tall, swarthy man with a large, green, polka-dot cravat under his starched three piece suit. He stood beside a wall of shelves and bookcases filled with antiques and collections. He was holding a small glass rabbit figurine in his hand.

“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t be in here,” Mariah said politely, and then dug daggers with her eyes.

“No?” The man looked around the room carelessly. “Says who?”

“Says my father.”

“And your father says who, exactly, can’t be in this room?”

“You, sir.”

“Strange. As I recall, your father opened his home to all his guests. Especially those he invited personally.” The man placed the glass rabbit back on the shelf beside him. He began to approach her.

“You should have said something so I didn’t make a fool of myself,” she blamed him.

“And miss that wonderful exposition? Now I’m all caught up. Except for your name.”

She was reluctant at first, but in wanting to prove something, she answered. “Mariah Townsend.”

“I’m sorry to hear your troubles, Mariah,” the man said honestly.

“I am too,” she replied bluntly.

The man laughed. “Now, I wonder why Jesse wouldn’t stay true to his word and marry you?” he teased. “Of course, if he really did say all that – like you explained so eloquently to the door.”

“He did say that, and it’s none of your business, Mister…”

“Abel.”

“Mister Abel, it’s none of your business.”

“There’s no need to call me mister, I am nothing of the sort. And frankly it’s become my business, as I know the full business.” Abel was now standing in front of her, looking down at her and smiling coyly.

Though she was much shorter than him, she tried establishing dominance, lifting her chin with confidence. “Since it’s my business to begin with, you ought to know that it’s mine to settle and you should stay out of it.”

“Frankly, Miss Mariah, it sounds settled. Jesse loves Elena.” She pushed him away and walked to the other side of the study. Abel laughed heroically. “My, you’re a handful and a half, aren’t you?”

“Just go away, won’t you! Oh, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“You mean at the party or in this room?”

“Both – I wish you’d just leave.”

“Your father invited me; and though I have little taste in formality, even I know it’s rude to leave so soon. As for the study, I thought I’d browse your father’s collection.” Abel crossed the room, passing by Mariah, and returned to the shelves on display. He admired them, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “There’s a lot to be said about what a man collects. It explains all there is to know about him.”

“What do you collect, Abel?” Mariah asked condemningly.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled brightly. “Information.”

“That explains why you’re so nosy, I suppose,” Mariah insulted.

“It’s hard to avoid a conversation when you’re the only other one in the room. I find I’m someone who knows a little about a lot. Tell me, Mariah, did Jesse really promise you two would be wed one day?”

“Why do you care?” she shouted, aggravated with his persistence.

“I’m curious. I’ll be the first to admit I’ve said plenty I never meant. But to speak so lightly about love – tisk, tisk, that’s a dangerous game.”

“Yes, he did. When we were still children he told me he loved me. He told me by the big tree next to the lake just west of here that he loved me.”

“How old were you when this marriage was arranged?”

“We were both seven,” she tried her best to make it sound legitimate.

“Miss Mariah, you sound awfully foolish for holding so dear the words of a seven year old boy.”

“He meant it! We meant it!”

“One of you did.” Abel faced Mariah. “The other grew up.”

“You don’t know the first thing about love, Abel. You know nothing about Jesse, either. He’s twice the man you’ll ever be – you’ll see. He’ll realize he’s made a terrible mistake and return to me.”

“I don’t believe many can return to where they’ve never been,” Abel said slowly.

Mariah flared red hot inside. She took a step towards him. “You have some nerve, Abel. How dare you insult me with your clever, cheap jokes. I’m practically a stranger to you, and I’m sure my father invited you out of pity, seeing how brash and immature you are. You know nothing of mine and Jesse’s love, and you should be ashamed of yourself knowing that for the rest of your life you’ll never find someone who will love you like I love Jesse.”

Abel took a step towards her. “I already feel quite relieved I’ll never be loved be someone like you.” He pointed back at the shelf behind him. “You know what you’re like, Miss Mariah? That glass rabbit I was holding. You’re beautiful but dangerously fragile, just like the love you’ve envisioned between you and Jesse. If it’s perfectly placed on a shelf as such and no one touches it, it’s worth admiring. But once you pick it up, you see right through and realize there’s nothing there.”

Mariah’s eyes boiled with rage. “Why you!—”

Abel put up his hand to stop her, taking another step towards her. “I haven’t finished. You see that chair, Miss Mariah?”

“Will you stop being so cordial?” Mariah demanded.

“Fine. You see that chair?” Abel pointed behind her at an upholstered chair that had been worn and faded from use. “See how it’s been sat in and tested? It’s got four legs to hold it up, so that no matter how you sit on it, it holds you up. Perhaps that’s what Jesse’s love with Elena is like. It may not be nearly as beautiful, like the glass rabbit you are, but it’s strong and durable and it’s been tested and tried.”

Mariah sighed out of frustration. She was fed up with Abel accusing her relentlessly. But for once in her life she had no defense. She walked closer to him. “I suppose, Abel, you know all of this because of all of the women you’d loved, is that it?”

“I’ve never been in love,” Abel confessed. “But I’ve seen good love, plenty of it. And good love can be felt without even knowing anything about the person they’re in love with. You can tell it’s real, without even knowing her name.”

“Why should I believe a word you’ve said with such little experience on the subject?” she challenged him.

“You can’t,” Abel admitted, walking the rest of the way to her. “But you can either admit Jesse never loved you or you can continue living in your hollow, transparent lie in order to make yourself feel better.”

Abel stood against Mariah, looking down on her once more. She tried keeping her chin up as she fought his stare with hers. Mariah slowly tilted her head in realization. “Oh, Abel. I see. You’re too afraid to be in love. So you study it and preach it like it’s your own. But you can’t tell me the first thing of what it’s like to give everything you have for someone. You can talk about ‘the good love’ and create moving metaphors, but you’ve never been kissed at night by someone who’d move the sun and the stars to see you again. All you collect is information and no experience.”

Abel and Mariah were inches from each other’s face. Abel clenched his jaw and swallowed hard. He looked away from her. “Perhaps, Miss Mariah,” he began slowly, “What I lack in experience, you have; and what little you know, I can teach.”

“Perhaps.” She straightened her posture and walked away from him towards the door. Mariah gripped the door knob and looked back at Abel. “But there’s only one thing you can’t teach, Abel. And that’s hope, and hope is only learned through experience. And as long as I live, I will always believe Jesse will love me again.” Mariah opened the door and left.

Abel stood still for a moment in the study, staring at the door. He turned back to the shelf and walked slowly up to the glass rabbit, and held it carefully.