Shoes
On this day in particular, after cleaning up a house owned by the rich, and quite snobbish Davenports, Safiya returned to her bare apartment to grumble in silence.The doorbell rang. Ramya held up a gold embossed envelope when Safiya let her in.
"I have been invited to one of Roman Landry’s parties, and I’m allowed to bring a friend. Would you like to go?” Ramya said excitedly.
“Sure, it sounds like fun,” Safiya replied in her usual calm, level voice.
“You can borrow one of my dresses that I got from my photo shoots. I’m sure you’d fit them.”
“That would be great. How did you get invited to such an elite party?”
“My new pictures have come out, and I’ve officially become a supermodel. I’m on every billboard and bus panel from here in London to Wales.”
“That’s great. When is this party?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
~~~~~
Safiya and Ramya walked carefully up the stone steps and into the entrance hall of Roman Landry’s gorgeous country estate. The air was filled with a buzz of voices. There were dozens of beautiful women in long dresses, handsome men in black tuxedos, and dignified servers handing out sparkling glasses of champagne.
Safiya tried to blend into the background in her floor-length silver dress. Her hair was in a french twist, piled on top of her head with just a few ringlets gracefully tumbling onto her bare shoulders. She held a tiny purse in her nervous, fidgety hands as she shifted from one foot to the other. Her feet were uncomfortable in the small silver shoes that pinched at her toes.
“Would you relax? You’re jumpier than a jackrabbit,” Ramya tried to calm her friend. Ramya was wearing a form-fitting red gown over her deep ebony skin. She had a few sprinkles of glitter in her hair. She had a short ‘do of tiny black ringlets that covered her from the top of her head to the nape of her neck. Two small ruby teardrops hung from her ears.
A hush came over the crowd as Roman Landry descended the stairs. He looked dashing in his tuxedo. He quickly glanced at the faces of the crowd before him. His eyes fell to the shoes of his guests, looking for a pair worthy of his attention. His gaze fell upon a petite foot, barely covered by the thin straps of a silver heel. His eyes ran up the dress, over the sizeable bust, and rested on the beautiful face of the owner of the tiny foot. Safiya noticed Roman staring at her and blushed. She felt embarassed at having caught his attention, and hoped he’d turn away, but he continued to stare. He was charmed by this pretty woman with an even prettier foot. He walked towards her, the crowd parting before him. They all watched as Roman approached Safiya and asked her to dance.
“Oh, I really don’t dance very well,” she managed to stutter.
“But someone with such graceful feet as yours must surely dance. Please, allow me the pleasure.” He took her hand and led her to the ballroom floor. The orchestra began with a beautiful waltz, and the two began to dance.
“You are wrong about your talent. Just the quick movement of your toes surpasses that of the most elegant dancer.”
“Thank you,” she blushed even more.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Safiya,” she replied.
“A beautiful name, to be sure.”
More couples came onto the dance floor, while others stood near the refreshment table. Soon, the groups of women forgot about Roman, and went back to their gossip, and the men stopped eying Safiya and returned to their discussions.
Roman led Safiya out into the courtyard. The cool summer breeze played with her curls.
“Ow!” Safiya cried as she stepped in a crack and stumbled in her tiny-heeled shoes. Roman led her to a stone bench near a trellis crawling with hollyhocks. He took her foot in his hands.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, but these shoes pinch my feet, and it’s hard to balance in them.”
“Well, let me take them off.” Roman removed the small shoe and began to kiss Safiya’s foot. This made her very uncomfortable. Just as the clock began to strike twelve, Safiya pried her foot from Roman’s grip and stood up.
“I... I have to go. Bye,” she managed to stammer. She ran back into the ballroom and out the main entrance door, dragging Ramya with her. Roman still held her silver shoe in his hands.
~~~~~~
The next day, Safiya received a hand-written invitation to Roman Landry’s house. He wished to return her shoe. Although hesitant, Safiya decided to accept. She arrived at Roman’s estate in a fashionable cocktail dress, loaned to her by Ramya. When she got to the large front doors, they opened before her, revealing a large dinner set out in the main hall. Roman greeted her and escorted her to her seat. The butler removed the covers from the many silver platters and started scooping servings onto plates.
Roman and Safiya ate in silence. For Safiya, it was an uncomfortable reticence, but Roman appeared quite content to simply eat his meal quietly, all the while eerily keeping his eyes on Safiya.
After dinner, Roman led Safiya to the parlor, where her silver shoe was sitting on a red velvet pillow on the coffee table. She went to pick it up, but Roman’s firm grip on her arm kept her inert.
“I want you to sit down, Safiya. We have important matters to discuss,” Roman seated himself on a leather chair, and Safiya sat across from him. “I have been searching a long time for the right pair to complete my collection. I think I’ve found it.”
“Right pair of what?” Safiya broke in.
Roman continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Would you allow me to keep them?” he nodded in her direction, and Safiya assumed he was talking about the silver shoes from the night before.
“Well, I guess, but I would need to get the other one.”
“Nonsense! They’re both here.”
Safiya looked at him quizically. What was he talking about?
Roman got up from his chair and stepped out of the room. When he got back, he was holding something. Safiya now knew what he meant, and she screamed when she saw what he was holding. She looked to the butler for help, who had been standing in the corner, but all he did was lower his head grimly and close and bolt the parlor doors.
~~~~~
Roman placed his new pair in his display case, right in the center. This was what he had been looking for. Safiya’s beautiful tiny feet rested on a smooth purple pillow, the stumps where they had been cut off freshly cauterized. Roman could now sleep peacefully, while down below in the garden, his faithful butler was burying Safiya’s body.She had a horrible job. All she did all day was clean houses. She was a maid, and not too happy about it.