Make No Mistake - Chapter 23
Rising From The Ashes
Make No Mistake is a novel about a women’s rights activist, a life-changing event she cannot remember, and an underground book club poised to take down the patriarchy. If you’re new to the story, you can find all the previously released chapters on the Home page: juliewise.substack.com
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Chapter 23 - Rising From The Ashes
Maggie sat with her back to the wall, the comforter tucked like a cocoon around her body. She glanced down at the contents of the package – a letter with three names, a date, and a warning about a photo that now lay face down on the bed. She felt like a deer trapped by the headlights of an oncoming car. The image in the photo had seared into her pupils, blurring her vision, and flooding her mind with terror and shame.
Daylight was fading. She shivered and tugged the comforter closer. Oblivious to everything but the accelerating drumbeat in her head, she stared out the window.
Soft footsteps in the hallway broke her trance. Hannah. Maggie held her breath until she heard the footsteps moving away.
She turned the photo over with the tip of her baby finger. It was like touching a poisonous snake. She stifled the wild cry that threatened to crack open her chest and forced the anguish back into the box where she had locked it away so many years ago. No, not now. Not ever. No, no no no no…. a voice howled inside her head.
Her mind skidded sideways, careening over the edge, splintering like shale on a mountainside.
The room grew dark.
She was shaking. Cold. Reaching out, she felt a smooth icy surface. She tried to sit up and slipped, cracking her head on something unmoving. She lay still, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Where…am…I?
She rolled onto her side and pushed herself up slowly. She could see a white outline now, a cold box encasing her body. She blinked. Dark and light squares emerged from the blackness.
And a putrid smell.
She pulled one knee underneath her and leaned forward. As she reached out, she realized she was sitting in her bathtub. But that made no sense. Grabbing the faucet and the side of the tub, she heaved herself to her feet. She leaned on the towel bar, stretched out and flicked on a switch with the edge of a finger. A blinding flash.
“Oh … my … god …”
Orange and yellow blobs floated in the toilet bowl, mingled with brown crusty splotches of…blood? She stepped on the bathmat and looked in the mirror. A jagged line sliced the upper edge of her cheek, shooting up toward her left eye like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes felt fuzzy, and the room started to move. She sank to her knees and stretched out on the cold tile, wrapping the bathmat around her trembling shoulders.
Hannah stretched and looked at the clock. It was 5 a.m. Dawn shimmered on the windowpane. She put on her slippers and padded down the hall to the guest bathroom. There was a light on in Maggie’s room and she could hear the pounding of fingers on the keyboard.
She fed Evelyn and put her down for a sleep. When she went down to the kitchen to make breakfast, she was surprised to find Maggie at the table, gulping down coffee and skimming the morning paper. She had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was matted, and she had a bandage on her cheek.
“Maggie, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Rough night,” Maggie said, as she stood up and poured herself another cup of coffee. “Gotta go. Things to do.”
She headed to her bedroom.
In the streets, everyone was talking about the mass arrests and the upcoming trial. Headlines screamed: Magdalen Tried for Treason! Lineups for courtroom seats stretched for blocks from the Front Plaza near the Supreme Court. Media outlets scrambled to get a spot. Social media went wild.
@Magdalenknows You got the wrong girl
@iamMagdalen I am Magdalen
@onguardforMagdalen Convict at your peril
@theMagdalenclub Blood on your hands, Power
@therealMagdalen Catch me if you can
“This one,” the President said, pointing to a photo of a young woman with dark hair. “That’s the one we’ll start with.”
“But we don’t have any proof that it’s her,” Daniel said.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s the bait. Whoever Magdalen is, she’ll come forward. She won’t sacrifice a young girl for the cause.”
“Are you sure this will work?” Daniel asked.
“Have I ever been wrong? Of course, it will work. If another letter shows up from Magdalen, we know we haven’t got her in jail. And then? We’ll change our tactics. Gotta keep those bitches guessing.”
He punched Daniel’s shoulder.
“Make it memorable, Danny boy. I’m counting on you.”
By the day of the trial, the country was buzzing with rumors. City cafes and country kitchens hummed as people declared an unofficial holiday, and sat glued to their devices, waiting for the live audio from the Supreme Court.
Daniel arrived at his office early. He needed a police escort to get through the growing crowds. He gulped down a few shots of bourbon before putting on his black robe. Pacing around his chambers, he glanced at his notes, anticipating the Marshal’s call.
Maggie sat in the back corner of the courtroom. She wrapped a red shawl across her chest and clasped her hands in her lap. Alicia came in, gave her a little wave, and found a seat near the door. She had a long red scarf around her neck.
Brian, Shelley, and the rest of their book club sat together, wearing white t-shirts and a touch of red. Maggie’s book club members sat near the front. Hannah had begged to come but Maggie insisted she stay home with the baby.
“We don’t know what they’re up to. It could be a trap. You need to be safe. Keep the doors locked.”
She was startled to see Jack walk in. He looked around the room and when he spotted her, he gestured that he wanted to talk to her.
Later, she mouthed.
“All rise,” the Marshal called.
“The Honorable, the Chief Justice and the Associate Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States. Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable, the Supreme Court of the United States, are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now sitting. God save the United States and this Honorable Court!”
Daniel entered the courtroom and took the center seat behind the bench, flanked by the other Justices. He adjusted his glasses and looked up into a sea of white and red. Mostly women. A scattering of men. He frowned and examined the faces. His wife wasn’t there. Madeline will come, he thought. I know her.
“The Supreme Court of the United States in now in session. Please be seated.”
There was a murmur as the spectators took their seats.
“Calling the case of the United States versus Maria Magdalena Alvarez.”
A middle-aged woman near the front of the courtroom sobbed. The man beside her wrapped his arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear. The parents, Daniel thought, raising a hand to his mouth to hide a grin.
The Solicitor General stood and began his opening statement.
“Mr. Chief Justice, and may it please the Court…”
A deep voice resonated from the back of the courtroom interrupting him.
“I…am Magdalen, Your Honor.”
Daniel stared at the woman. Wrapped in a red shawl, eyes blazing, her face framed by gray curls, she glared at him. She tossed off her shawl to reveal the words written in bold print across her white shirt: I AM MAGDALEN
The entire courtroom turned in her direction.
“Arrest her!” the Marshal shouted.
Two court officers moved toward Maggie. Another woman with gray hair stood, took off her red scarf and pointed to the words on her shirt.
“I am Magdalen,” she announced.
The officers stopped and looked back to the Marshal for guidance.
“Arrest them both.”
One by one, women around the courtroom stood, displayed their shirts and announced that they were Magdalen. The Marshal grabbed the gavel and pounded the desk.
“Order!” he shouted. “Order in the court!”
Additional officers arrived to make the arrests. The Marshal glanced out a window and approached the bench.
“Mr. Chief Justice? The streets are filled with them. All wearing those shirts. We can’t arrest them all. We don’t have the manpower.”
Daniel held a quiet conversation with the Associate Justices.
“The court will adjourn for one hour,” the Marshal announced over the clamour.
Daniel strode out of the courtroom and into his chambers, locking the door behind him.
Daniel collapsed in his leather chair, head in his hands.
“Get a grip,” he muttered. “This was supposed to be open and shut. Think, man, think.”
He reached in the side drawer for his bourbon and noticed a black and white photo taped to the bottle.
It was a photo from his safe. The one of Meg.
He dropped it on the desk, like it was on fire. He glanced around, expecting to see someone standing in the shadows. The office was empty.
Then he saw the note under his glass.
Five words. Typed in bold.
We are coming for you
He crumpled the note and filled the shot glass to the brim.
As he finished a third glass, he heard a key turning in the lock. His left hand shot under the desk, ready to press the alarm.
A tall slim grey-haired woman stalked into the room. He took a long look: silver-studded black leather boots, tight black leather pants, a white t-shirt knotted at the waist, short black leather jacket and large, red-framed glasses. Daniel’s right hand dropped to his crotch.
The woman tossed her head back with a chuckle.
“Checking the ‘crown jewels’? I see you haven’t changed a bit, Danny boy.”
Daniel froze. He examined her face more closely.
“Madeline?”
“In the flesh, my darling. Have you missed me?”
She blew him a kiss. He jerked back.
“Where the hell have you been? And how did you get in?”
Madeline held up her hand, keys dangling.
“You gave me a key, years ago, don’t you remember, dearest? In the hope that I might visit for a little afternoon delight.”
She took a few steps forward. He launched himself out of his chair.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” he growled. “You’ve played right into my hands. I knew you’d come out of hiding for your darling girl, you bitch.”
Madeline crossed her arms, planting her feet firmly on the floor. Her eyes narrowed; her voice grew hard.
“Shut up, Daniel. Sit down. I see you found the photo.”
She paused, watching his face. She pulled another photo out of her leather briefcase. A photo of a dusty box, labeled ‘M.C. 1968’.
“How the hell did you get that?” he shouted. “I’ll have you arrested. That’s private property.”
He lunged for the photo. She dangled it above her head and shoved him back with a boot to the knee. He fell against the desk, breathing hard.
“Not so fast, sweetheart. Here’s what you’re going to do for me.”
She handed him a piece of paper.
He scanned the paper and dumped it into the waste basket.
“No way.”
“Oh yes, Daniel. This photo is just one of many. Forty photos, from your little collection. Twenty women, wasn’t it? Before and after you and your buddies had your fun. Packages are ready to go to the police and all the major media outlets in the next 30 minutes. Your choice.”
He crossed his arms and stared at her.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
She placed her hands on her hips.
“Some of those girls died, Daniel. Did you know that? You could face murder charges. How long do you think you would last in prison? All those men whose appeals you denied over the years might enjoy getting to know you better, if you catch my drift.”
She watched him squirm. As the silence grew, she smiled.
“It might be time to give Big Brother a call,” Madeline said. She put the photo back in her briefcase and checked the gold clock on the wall.
“Although, if you wait ten minutes, I have the feeling he’s going to call you. He’s also entertaining a guest, right about now.”
She strolled toward the door.
“Oh wait, one more thing.”
She dug a legal-sized envelope out of her briefcase and tossed it on the desk.
“Open and sign, Daniel.”
He tore open the envelope. Divorce papers.
“No way,” he said. “You can’t get away with this.”
“Watch me,” Madeline said, pulling the photo out of her briefcase again and waving it in the air.
Daniel signed. She picked up the papers.
“Ciao, amore.”
Madeline walked out the door, wiggling her fingers in a final goodbye as she locked the door behind her.
Daniel shredded the note and the photo. He poured another drink.
A few minutes later, Daniel heard a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The Marshal unlocked the door and poked his head inside.
“Sir? We have a problem.”
“Ya think?”
“We checked all the women in the courtroom like you asked. Their names really are Magdalen. It’s on their ID.”
Daniel shook his head.
“All of them?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”
“Sir?”
“Call the Justices to a conference, and then call the court to order. We’ll be there shortly.”
He pulled Madeline’s list out of the garbage and drank straight from the bottle.
After a brief conference behind closed doors, the Supreme Court Justices returned to the courtroom.
“All rise.”
Daniel took his seat and raised his eyes to the ceiling. Everyone followed his gaze.
He closed his eyes and said in a low voice.
“The case is dismissed.”
Shocked silence filled the room, fractured by sudden cheering that spread like a tidal wave through the hallways, spilling out into the streets. Daniel slumped in his chair, head in his hands. The Marshal pounded the gavel and called for order. No one paid attention.
Maggie and Alicia hugged. Book club members did high-fives. Jack grinned as he made his way through the crowd to Maggie.
“How’s it feel?”
“You don’t need me to tell you, Jack. Look around. And this is just the beginning.”
He studied her face.
“What else do you have planned?”
“Who me? Nothing.”
She winked.
This is a powerhouse of a chapter, as you intended! Who could resist a juicy denouement between villain and heroine, right in the nick of time?? Not me.
I'll have more cohesive thoughts once I absorb it all, but this was gritty and real and very well done. I can't stand when authors avoid the ugliness of reality, even in fairy tales; your skillful handling struck the right balance between keeping it tasteful enough for polite company, so it can be discussed in book clubs and the like, while still refusing to dilute the brutality of conflict as it really is for those who are not privileged enough to avoid it.
We can't afford to coddle people's fastidious sensibilities when our reality has become as grim as your fictional one, and the fact that mainstream media has been doing just that for so long now has made our situation exponentially worse. Thank you for being far more honest in your fiction than they are in their journalism; I have MAD respect for that.
Woo hoo! 🔥