Hamlet looked at me, then his mother, and while staring directly at Claudius replied, “She saw Claudius leaving the conservatory. Right before Dad, your husband, was rushed to the hospital. Why would that be?”
I stood in petrified silence, wondering if I was going to be dragged out by security next. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?
“What do you have to say about this?” Gertrude asked me.
“Nothing.” My eyes darted around the room at the various guards who stood nearby. They were all under orders to keep what they heard and saw in these halls a secret or risk imprisonment or worse. Even so, Gertrude and Claudius knew it wouldn’t take more than a whisper or a hint from one of them to begin a cascade of bad publicity and questions. It also occurred to me that the guards were under orders to do exactly what Gertrude and Claudius demanded, even if that included imprisoning or harming me. I couldn’t feel my arms, and my tongue felt thick. “I didn’t see anything. He’s making this up.” Hamlet’s face fell, and I had to look away.
“Take him.” Claudius gestured to the guards as he and Gertrude exchanged impenetrable looks. Anger? Fear? Agreement? Impossible to know.
“Phee!” Hamlet cried.
“Talk to me again and I will kill you!” I screamed.
“Do not threaten the prince,” Marcellus warned.
“Why not? Will you put me in jail? Okay,” I shouted to the other guards, “I plan to kill Queen Gertrude and King Claudius, too! Take me away now. You have to. Get me out of this asylum!”
“Dear girl,” Gertrude said, coming toward me again.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed. “You believe Hamlet that this was an accident? What kind of accident? Who was he actually trying to kill?” I looked at Claudius.
His face remained blank as he commanded to Marcellus, “Take her home.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” I shouted over my shoulder as Marcellus pulled me by the arm toward the elevator. “How safe are any of you? You crazy—”
“Quiet,” Marcellus hissed, shoving me inside.
When we got to my apartment, Marcellus started yelling at me. “What do you think you’re doing shouting at the king and queen like that?”
“I don’t care who I—He killed my father!” I couldn’t stand there and argue. I couldn’t control my feelings. I couldn’t care what I said anymore. I collapsed on the couch and wept. And wept. Marcellus neither walked over nor tried to console me. Even after I had stopped sobbing—and I have no idea how long that was—I couldn’t and wouldn’t talk. I sat with my fingers pressed into my face, trying to feel something and nothing at the same time.
Eventually I took my sleeves, dried my face, and asked, “What now?”
“You stay here until we hear otherwise.”
I watched him walk to the phone in the kitchen and unplug it, then tuck it under his arm. “What are you doing?” I asked, trepidation breaking through the numbness.
He just looked at me, waiting for my mind to catch up. My lip started to quiver. “All of them?” I asked.
He did not answer but walked to my father’s room and returned with a phone cord and my father’s laptop. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, though I knew exactly why.
“I have to take your cell phone and your computer, too,” he said as he walked to my room.
When he disappeared from view, I ran for my purse and grabbed my cell. Maybe I could get a message off before he returned. Marcellus hurried back into the room as if he knew what I would try. He saw me before I could hide my phone and reached out his hand.
“One message. Please,” I begged.
He looked skeptical.
“To Horatio. You can read along.”
He looked wary but nodded his assent.
i need u. cm hom
He nodded again, and I pressed Send. We waited, looking at each other. It was my one chance to get someone I trusted into the castle.
Bing. I looked at the reply:
Horatio: Cnt miss mor skl. 2 bhnd.
“Shoot,” I muttered. “I can’t tell him?” I asked, knowing the answer.
Marcellus shook his head sternly and said, “I shouldn’t have let you even do this much.” He reached for the phone. I gripped it hard, but he pulled it out of my hand. Surprisingly, he remained next to me, holding it in his palm. I was hoping Horatio would say more. Maybe Marcellus was, too.
We waited through an unbearably long pause during which the only sounds we heard were the ticking of