Smaragdus

When Therese arrived at the museum early next morning, she saw Carol hunched over the documents describing the famous jewelry. When she noticed Therese, she put the folder away as if she had lost all interest in it for now.

“You wanted to go over the centerpiece?” Therese said, hoping to redirect Carol’s attention to the papers at hand.

“We’ll have plenty of time to do that,” Carol stated, “right now I’d like you to enlighten me about emeralds in general.” She had made up her mind, Therese understood, and there was nothing she could say to get Carol to focus on the necklace and the earrings again.

“What do you want to know?” Therese asked, hiding her disappointment in the sudden turn of events.

“Everything,” Carol smiled, “I know a bit about diamonds but emeralds not so much – other than they’re beautiful.” She looked at Therese’s eyes, which she only now realized were green as well. Therese had removed her glasses, which Carol took as proof of her myopia. “I’m curious to know what makes some of them more precious than others.”

“Grading emeralds is the same as grading all colored gemstones,” Therese explained as she pulled out some samples she had been clever enough to bring along. “You look for the color, the clarity, the cut and the carat weight, in this order.”

Carol picked up a green gem she found particularly interesting, and examined it through an eye loupe magnifier. “I love the pure green hue in this one,” she commented, handing the stone over to Therese.

“The hue is important,” Therese admitted. “Emeralds range from yellow-green to blue-green, the primary hue always being green.” She placed a few yellowy ones on her palm, letting the light play on their rough edges. “Gems that are noticeably lighter in tone aren’t even called emeralds,” she elaborated, “they’re known as green beryl.” When she raised her eyes to seek Carol’s, her irises were saturated with moist verdancy. Thin, tangled copper threads around her pupils looked like infinite starbursts to Carol. She wondered if the husband Therese had so casually mentioned the day before could set those curious filaments aglow.    

“It takes more than just a pure hue to make a fine emerald,” Therese continued, averting her eyes. “A top specimen must also be highly transparent. If a gem is dull, it’s not of good quality. It’s as simple as that.” She put the stones back in their box.    

Carol was reluctant to finish what she thought they had only just begun. “The first one you showed me,” she started, “despite its gorgeous color, it seemed to have imperfections on its surface.” The way she said it made it an eager question.  

Therese nodded. “Emeralds have flaws, that’s for sure – inclusions and fissures on the surface,” she elaborated. “These imperfections, as you called them, are described as jardin, emerald’s ‘garden’. They do look a bit mossy, don’t they?” A faint amusement flickered on the curves of her mouth, which Carol was grateful to notice. It was the first time she had seen anything resembling a smile trying to make its way on Therese’s lips. “And each imperfection is unique for each emerald. Knowing this, we can identify individual stones and learn how they were formed to begin with.”

Carol was mesmerized by what she thought was the exciting world of the emerald only now opening up to her in its endless permutations. She gazed at the first specimen with renewed appreciation, the tiny fractures on its smooth cut, the gas bubble trapped inside, and even the scraggly clot of crystals attached to it. “They’re beautiful,” Carol said. “Without them it wouldn’t have any character.” She was inexplicably moved by what she saw and understood, although the realization felt somewhat disproportionate too. It’s only a rock.

“I’ve always found diamonds a bit boring,” Therese said, “since their grading is purely based on a strict loupe standard.” She pulled out another fine example and examined it under a desk lamp. “Emeralds, on the other hand, are judged by eye only. You base your appraisal on what you see naturally.” The thought consumed her, threw her off the track for a fleeting moment. “We look for perfection but do we find it? Rarely – as far as emeralds are concerned.” Therese paused for a moment. “Stones lacking any flaws are nearly impossible to come by, which is why almost all of them end up being treated to enhance their clarity.”  

It took a while for Carol to notice that Therese had stopped talking. She glanced at the diamond wedding ring on her own finger, and a sudden chill pervaded her body. Therese had a mere narrow gold band to mark her marital status, she noticed. It looked matte, worn-out.

Therese’s reticence bothered Carol. It made her want to shout out outrageous things just to test that stubborn façade of hers, to force out a reaction whatever it might be. Therese wasn’t unkind, Carol thought, but then again she didn’t exude warmth either. Therese Belivet was an enigma demanding a solution, occurred to Carol unexpectedly. I have almost a year to get to the bottom of this, to the bottom of you.

“How did you become so enamored with emeralds in the first place?” she asked Therese nonchalantly. After all, she didn’t want to appear too nosy.  

Therese looked at Carol with another half smile on her face. “Quite by accident,” she said. “I was given a chance to study gemology, and even though I wasn’t that into the field in the beginning, I soon found the world of precious stones very appealing.” She took her time before continuing. “Finding emeralds added yet another dimension to my infatuation…” Therese had a dreamy look in her eyes. “I sought to learn all there was to know about them, of their restorative qualities chronicled in countless legends and lores.” She seemed overcome by something she had just recalled. “Not only are emeralds believed to relieve you of stress and lassitude, they are also said to reveal truth and to protect its bearer against evil.”

Carol had been listening to Therese with growing interest. “And have they worked for you?” she asked softly.

Her question broke the spell Therese had fallen under. “If only our lives were so simple that all we had to do was to take comfort in some green rocks dug out of earth’s bosom.” Her words were accompanied with an easy laughter, but to Carol it all sounded unmistakably joyless and bitter.

“Do you have the specs for me?” Dannie asked Therese when she had returned home after work.

“Not yet. We didn’t get to talk about the centerpiece yet,” Therese replied apologetically.

“Therese! I need those asap,” Dannie grumbled. “The work has to be started immediately if we are to have it finished on time.” Running his hand through his curly hair, he looked desperate.

“I know, I know,” Therese sighed, “but I couldn’t make her give them to me when all she wanted to do was blab endlessly about emeralds in general.” She was frustrated but not so much with her boss than with Dannie who had the patience of a grasshopper.

“It’s your job to get the info,” Dannie nagged, “to provide me with the means to take this to the next level.” Agitated, he kept pacing the floor.

“It’s only my first job in this, and you know it very well,” Therese said, raising her voice. “What is this all about? Why are you acting so jumpy all of a sudden?”

His back turned on her, Dannie stopped in his tracks. Something about him seemed frozen, almost frightened. “Madame came by.” It was all Therese needed to hear to understand her friend’s odd behavior.

“What did she have to say this time?” she asked, careful not to let Dannie see and hear what she really felt inside.

“Just that we better not muck this up.” Dannie collapsed in the chair. He looked exhausted as if he’d been holding his breath all day up till now. “Fuck.”

Therese went to him and wound her fingers in his wavy hair. “You can’t let her get to you like this,” she said gently. “Her bark is worse than her bite, you know that,” Therese consoled him, but as soon as she had said it, she knew it wasn’t true.

Ten years earlier

“Next! Therese Belivet, case number 645-A.” She was ushered in to sit next to her court-appointed attorney she had never seen before. “What do we have here…” Skimming through the case file, the elderly judge had a dour look on his face. “Robbery, man-slaughter – how old is she again?” he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

“Seventeen, Your Honor,” Therese’s attorney was quick to comply. The gangly man in a suit looked very young and inexperienced.

“And she has denied the allegations?” The judge asked, avoiding looking at Therese as he spoke.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the attorney confirmed. “Repeatedly.”

The man behind the bench rubbed his chin pensively. He looked tired but not entirely disinterested. “She was apprehended at the scene of the crime?” The wrinkles on his forehead deepened into flabby furrows.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Preoccupied, the judge seemed uncertain as what he was about to do was the right course of action for him to take. “The acts alleged in the petition are very serious, and personally I’d have rather seen this case tried in the criminal court,” he started gravely. “The evidence speaks for itself. However, since she is a first time offender and still a juvenile, there are grounds for leniency.”

Displeased, the judge leaned forward in his seat. As if only now noticing Therese, he narrowed his watery eyes and turned his attention to her. “You are a very lucky young lady,” the judge pointed out to Therese’s big surprise. “Nothing would please me more than to see you in a proper correction facility, but instead I have decided to grant the appeal of your generous sponsor.” He motioned to the bailiff who was waiting by the door. “Since she is willing to vouch for your good behavior during your probation, so be it.”

The door opened, and a brown-haired woman in her thirties entered the room. Impeccably coiffed and dressed in black pencil dress, she sauntered slowly past the court stenographer and headed straight towards the bench. The woman oozed wealth and confidence, both of which Therese knew nothing about. She had never seen the stranger before, nor had she any clue what was to happen next. A decision had been made without her having any say in it, Therese concluded, and somehow it had worked for her benefit. Even now she was being left out of the conversation dictating the next phase of her sorry life.

Only once did the woman turn around to glance at her, and when she did, she smiled. Therese didn’t feel like smiling back, quite the contrary, but no matter how sullen she looked, it made no difference. Therese was being released to her custody.

“Come on then,” the unknown woman said as they had left the courtroom. “You must be starving. I’m afraid the food at the detention center leaves a lot to be desired.” She waited Therese to catch her step, fully expecting her to do as she was told the first time. “There’s a diner across the street that serves amazing waffles and pancakes.” The woman looked like she had never touched a waffle in her life, Therese thought, paying attention to her perfect figure. But she was hungry, and certainly she wasn’t in any position to argue with her.

They sat down at a booth facing each other. The woman ordered her food without asking what Therese wanted: a tomato soup, a cheeseburger with fries, and a waffle with strawberries and whipped cream. “No soda, just an ice tea, unsweetened,” she instructed the waiter. When Therese’s food arrived, she lit a cigarette and leaned back in her seat. For a while she seemed content just to watch her do away with the plentiful meal.

“You can call me Karen,” she spoke breaking the silence between them. Therese froze for a second, then resumed eating. “You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of, Therese,” Karen continued. “This is what I do. I help people. People like you.”

Suspicious, Therese looked up from her plate. The woman had helped her but what did it actually mean? she asked herself.

Reading her thoughts, Karen smiled at her misgivings. “I’m no stranger to the juvenile court, ask anyone,” she laughed, “and I bet they will all tell you I’m mad.” It wasn’t what Therese had expected to hear. “But I believe in second chances, especially if there is a good reason to believe that justice has not been served in the first place.” Karen lit yet another cigarette.

“I didn’t do it.” Therese had been quiet for so long, all the time she had spent in detention and in and out of courtrooms, the words stumbled out of her mouth like toppling dominoes.

“I know you didn’t, Therese.” Karen watched her so closely, the fine hairs on the back of Therese’s neck stood on end. “You were there but you weren’t the one who did it.” The truth billowed in front of them like the whiffs of smoke drawn from her cigarette.

“I’m not a burglar or a killer,” Therese mumbled defensively. “But I’m not a snitch either, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

Exhaling softly, Karen shook her head. “No, darling,” she said reassuringly, “we will put it all behind us and never talk about it again, okay?” She patted Therese’s hand gently. “I have something for you.” She took a business card from her purse and placed it on the table for Therese to see.

Karen Wright

Rough Diamonds

A Youth Program

And on the flip side:

“Become Brilliant!”

Confused, Therese examined the card. “What is this? Are you trying to convert me or something?” The words ‘Youth Program’ were enough to give her the creeps.

“Goodness, no!” Karen laughed. “God, or any other deity for that matter, has nothing to do with me. I’m interested in this life, not in the alleged one after.” She flicked some ash into an ashtray. “I want to provide a clean slate for deserving youth, to offer education, maybe even a job later on while fostering personal growth. Sound any better?” Her brown eyes flickered mischievously in the dim lighting.

Religion out of the equation, Therese felt immediately better. “So you’re a do-gooder? What’s in it for you?” She didn’t mean to sound quite so aggressive but Karen didn’t seem to mind.

“I suppose I’m one of those bored rich ladies who got tired of doing nothing but gossipy lunches,” Karen said. “I wanted to be an instrument of change, so to speak, to help those less fortunate than me.” She paused while the waiter served Therese her waffles. “And it’s been very rewarding… all those girls and boys I’ve been able to nudge forward.” The smile on her face was almost rapturous. “You are just one in a long line of young women I’ve come in contact with, Therese,” she explained, “and now it’s your turn, should you wish to take full advantage of what I have for you to offer.”

The freshly cut strawberries and the thick strokes of whipped cream over a pile of waffles had never looked better to Therese. She is an attractive woman dangling an opportunity of a lifetime in front of me, she thought. And it’s not like I have a choice since I’m under her charge now. No one had ever given her anything for free, and even if she neglected to understand the real meaning of not having a choice in the matter, she welcomed it. She wanted to welcome it, all of it. I might as well make the most of it, whatever this is.