Mabel's Desperate Escape
The Darlington residence was unusually empty for the rare break that Millyred’s outing had granted the servants. Mabel stood on tiptoe, creeping down the long corridor toward the telephone at the far end.
“Operator, please.”
A dry voice came through the receiver.
“Riverside, nine, number 0712.”
Mabel darted nervous glances over her shoulder, waiting impatiently for the connection.
“Connected.”
A click. Then Louise answered.
“Hello?”
“Roo, it’s me—Mabel.”
“Mabel! I was just about to call you. What happened with that day’s plan?”
Mabel’s voice was barely a whisper. “…I failed.”
“Damn it! No wonder it felt off. That dress was too perfect on you—there might have been blowback.”
Mabel poured out every detail of the day and the fresh punishment of staying indoors. “Roo, can I ask one thing? Only you would ever understand.”
“What is it? If I know it, I’ll answer.”
“How much does one room cost? A share like a dorm with others is fine too.”
“What? Are you really planning to run away?”
“…There’s no other way left.”
Silence stretched across the line.
“Hello? Roo?”
Mabel pressed the receiver hard to her ear, fearing a bad connection.
“Yeah, I’m here. Just thinking for a minute.”
A cool voice followed. “If that’s truly your wish, come to our house. Don’t worry about the rent.”
Tears pricked Mabel’s eyes at Louise’s unconditional kindness. “…Roo, I’m truly grateful just hearing you say it. But I can’t burden you with such a huge debt.”
“Debt? Nonsense. I was thinking about finding a roommate since I’ve been bored, and living with you would make it less lonely. The room for Mom is empty—use that.”
Mabel had been lost for where to start, yet hope stirred. “So when will you be coming over?”
Mabel hesitated. Concrete plans were still vague. “Um… I’ll sell whatever I have and gather money. You don’t have to worry about rent, but I can’t stay rent-free. I’m locked indoors now because of the restriction, so maybe only in a month or so?”
A bright laugh erupted on the other end.
“Running away and talking about curfew? Don’t wait. Slip out tonight. Make your decision and do it—drag your feet and it’ll fizzle.”
Her heart plunged.
“…Tonight?”
It seemed too soon.
“Yes, tonight!”
Sweat slicked her palm gripping the receiver.
Mabel scanned the room guiltily. In the wall mirror, her full-length dress mirrored back. Short hair, too. A dress mismatched.
She drew a deep breath; her ribs pressed against the corset, air choking her. She missed the freedom of wearing a flapper dress.
She had never chosen impulsively in her life. Until now, every decision had been her aunt and uncle’s.
Would she endure unhappiness living someone else’s life?
Or suffer pain in the life she chose?
Placing the two options side by side left her with nothing more to weigh.
Mabel spoke fiercely. “…See you tonight, Roo.”
“Bizzy noo!”
***
Past midnight, Mabel paced her room restlessly in her outing clothes. Every time she cracked open the door, the sound of Millyred and Walter bickering drifted in. Unlike before, Millyred’s voice rose and fell repeatedly.
“They’re still arguing…”
It seemed Millyred had been turned away from the neighborhood general store, earning public shame before the locals.
A leather trunk sat beside the door. Even with only jewelry, cash, and essentials packed, it felt heavy.
While packing, she had worked out a plan.
She had heard of students earning scholarships from working at Barnard Library or the dorm. With her good grades, she would secure a position and apply for aid.
‘Somehow I’ll find a way.’
If she slipped out without being spotted before the Plaza Hotel five blocks from the Darlington residence, she would have succeeded.
Lights blazed all night in front of the hotel, taxis waiting even late. From there, Riverside to Louise’s apartment was the easiest part of the route.
“What now…? Should I leave now?”
It might be better to depart while they argued. Their noise could mask any ordinary footsteps.
Mabel slowly surveyed her room. Thinking of leaving made her heart ache.
Like when Arthur had gone, she wrote a short letter and placed it on the desk.
Respected Aunt and Uncle,
I am sorry to leave so suddenly.
Thank you sincerely for raising and caring for me all these years.
I am not leaving forever.
Once I achieve what I want to do, I will return and apologize for today’s actions, then repay your kindness.
I will be fine. Please do not worry too much.
I pray both of you stay healthy until we meet again.
With love,
Mabel
If she did not appear at breakfast the next morning, some servant would enter the room and find the note.
With a heavy heart, Mabel blew out the lamp, lifted the trunk, and carefully opened the door.
The hinges creaked; she froze. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears like footsteps.
She held her breath and listened to the corridor’s silence. Only Millyred and Walter’s voices and the grandfather clock’s ticking.
Gripping the trunk handles tightly with both hands, she crossed the hall. Despite walking on tiptoe, the wooden floor creaked under the weight.
She kept her eyes on the master bedroom. She could not go back now. Thick runners covered the stairs—that was a small mercy.
At the bottom of the stairs by the front door, sweat beaded on her forehead.
She wiped it with the back of her hand, then seized the iron latch. With a loud metallic clang, she pulled it open.
Eyes squeezed shut, she slowly opened the door.
Outside was dark and the wind bitter.
Finally free of the Darlington residence, she closed the door without a sound and paused, listening. Fortunately, no one followed.
“Ah…”
She exhaled, leaning against the door. But there was no time to hesitate. She pressed the plunger firmly, head bowed, and set off toward the Plaza Hotel.
Fifth Avenue was the safest part of Manhattan.
Mabel had grown up here and never felt danger. Only now did she realize it was because she had never walked the streets alone at night.
The rhythmic tap of footsteps echoed unnaturally loudly. Chilled sweat and a shiver came with the cold wind.
Darkness was the perfect place to hide danger.
Her nerves prickled as something lurked in the shadows that might spring out at any moment.
Like a porcupine with quills raised, Mabel darted cautious glances, clutching the trunk handles—her entire fortune. But after only one block her arms were too weak, so she switched to the other hand.
As she turned onto Sixty-third Street, the steady thud of footsteps approached from the distance.
Her heart sank.
Head bowed, eyes wide above the hat brim, she watched the man in the fedora coming toward her from the opposite side—Sixty-second Street.
His face was lost in the gloom.
Mabel’s steps faltered.
‘Stay calm. It’s just a local returning home.’
Terrified he might recognize her, she kept her head lowered and quickened her pace. The man’s footsteps grew louder.