The dagger had a short blade and black marble handle adorned with a silver crucifix, the same as the medieval-looking cross around his neck, like he was cosplaying a crusader with his trinkets. Pathetic.
Looking back on this moment, she had no idea what possessed her to relax her entire body. Maybe it was from the tiger who suddenly became eerily still, or perhaps she was relying purely on instinct. Regardless, she let her body go completely limp, and her hands dropped from their vise grip on the man’s forearms. Her back sank into the cold ground, and her attacker was left hovering over her, knees straddling her. He looked at her in shock as she let the tension leave her body and turned her head to the side as if in defeat. And right in her line of vision was the key. Right there. Two inches from her hand.
It was in that instant of confusion, that half-second, where her attacker clearly had not realized that she now had space and leverage to move up under him. So with as much force and swiftness she could manage, Ophelia thrusted her right knee up into his groin. He doubled over and moved both hands to his crotch, removing the dagger from her throat and allowing her to grab the key.
“Fucking witch!”
He dove back to her throat with the dagger in his right hand just as she launched her fist, key first, into his face and dug deep into his flesh. She dragged the key down the side of his left face, catching his eye and drawing blood.
“ARGHH!”
Ophelia scrambled out from under him and desperately crawled to the stairs. It felt like the tiger was nudging her along with its snout. Suddenly, the stairwell darkened as two figures blocked the minimal morning light. A sob of recognition burst from her.
“Help,” she breathed out. Her plea was desperate and just loud enough for Gregory and Brian to determine the severity of the situation.
Her attacker looked up, eyes frantically glancing among the two men and Ophelia. Gregory and Brian raced down the stairwell, shouting. Her attacker ran like a wild man. He sprinted past her and shoved Gregory into the stairwell wall as he fled up the steps and into the stream of morning commuters.
The tiger was back.What did that mean? The sound of her steps was the only thing preventing her from being consumed by her past. The tiger represented such a dark and turbulent time in her young adulthood. One that she thought was over and done with.
She ran for five more minutes until she reached a creek that flowed out from a bayou set in the distance. She hastily removed her shoes and sat on the dirt-and-stick-covered bank, allowing the water to cool her feet. Lying back, she tried to focus on unclenching her jaw. She reached for that internal strength she knew was within her. She began to recite two lines of poetry by Rainier Maria Rilke that helped her through the aftermath of that dark time.
“Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
Again, she told herself. And she recited it again and again until her breath returned to a steady cadence.
CHAPTER TEN
Ophelia pressed her body deeper into the damp ground on the creek bank. She would be muddy, but she didn’t care. She was calm again and ready to organize her mind. She needed to understand the events that brought the tiger into her life.
Delphine’s death had corresponded with her dream of the tiger, where she pulled out her father’s revolver. The tiger must have been warning her of the danger nearby. Then, with the attack all those years ago, the tiger was her rallying cry to fight.
Aside from the Exodus verse, she couldn’t think of another connection between the perpetrators. They couldn’t be the same person. Her attacker was dead. A year after her attack, she saw his lifeless body on a sterile gurney under the fluorescent lights of the Office of Chief Medical Examiner in Crown Heights, Brooklyn.
After the incident, NYPD looked for the perpetrator for a year. Eventually, her case went cold. It didn’t matter, though. Ophelia continued to call Detective Lewis religiously. Ophelia was unwilling to let him forget about her attacker.
When NYPD found a dead man in a Brooklyn park that fit the description of her attacker, Detective Lewis asked if shewould be willing to come in and identify the man. She wanted to see that monster’s lifeless body, so she could rest knowing he was gone from this earth. Sure enough, it was him. She didn’t even ask for his name. She didn’t want to know. He was dead, and that was all that mattered.
But there was a thought forming, floating just out of reach on the periphery of her own understanding about the serial killer and her attacker. They were connected, she was sure, but she needed more than just the Bible verse to confirm it.
Ophelia got up from the ground, brushed off the sticks and leaves clinging to her, and made her way back to the Pine House.
Mawmaw satin her wingback chair in the treating parlor, impatiently waiting for Ophelia’s return.
“Well, where is my sweet tea?” she asked as Ophelia entered. Mawmaw groaned with impatience as she tried to stand by herself. Her grandmother really could turn on a dime with that mercurial nature of hers.
“Guess I’ll get my own damn iced tea,” she grumbled.
Ophelia steadied her arm and positioned the walker for her. Ophelia followed her slowly into the kitchen, grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, and the pitcher from the fridge.
“Sit down,” Ophelia told her. “Here.” She placed the glass of iced tea in front of her on the kitchen table. “How exactly do they protect?” she demanded as she sat adjacent to Mawmaw.
“Goodness,” Mawmaw said, exasperated. She paused to take a sip of the tea and wipe the ring of condensation left on the table. “They just do. The spirit always protects their owner, which is why they appear when danger is near. It’s like the protector casts a shield over its owner to ward off evil. You know, my sister, your great-aunt, had a tiger as a protector too.”
“Really? What was she like? I’ve never heard you talk much about her.”
“She asked too many damn questions, just like you. Surprised her protector wasn’t a stupid parakeet.”
“Ha, ha. Are you done being sassy now that you have your drink?”
