Little Girl Lost (2 page)

One day Tavera was doing just that when her ears perked up, hearing something downstairs. Could the woman be home already? Panic squeezed her heart as she quickly put everything away, cursing to herself as she pushed books, knick-knacks and drawings back where they belonged. Tavera closed the crawlspace door as quietly and quickly as she could before she ran down the stairs, hoping the woman wouldn’t beat her too violently for being upstairs. She threw open the door, stopping short as her dark eyes fell upon the scene.

In the back area where the sausages were made stood two men. One of them she recognized as the man who grilled the sausages, his eyes widening in alarm as they fell upon the little girl. Out of the storage area came another man, this one similar in coloring and build to the first but with darker hair. He held a few chains of sausages in his hand, looking to the griller before turning to the little girl, his face calm.

For a brief moment Tavera wondered what they were doing but a sinking dread in the pit of her stomach told her why they were there. Behind them the back door was wide open. She ran toward them hoping she could get back the things they were intending to steal. “No, don’t!” she screamed, the griller already out the door and gone before she made it to the back room.

Just as she reached the work table, the other man tipped the piece of furniture over, the sound of wood splintering and metal clanging ringing in her ears. Tavera just barely jumped out of the way as it came crashing down, shrieking at the sound and her narrow escape. Laying on the floor, she looked up just in time to see the second man run out through the back door. He didn’t bother shutting it behind him.

Tavera scrambled up and around the table, running just outside in time to see them bolting down the alley. “Wait!” she shouted, her voice shrill, fear propelling her scream down the snowy street. “Please! Don’t! Come back!” The men disappeared behind a building, not bothering to heed the trembling girl’s pleas.

Tavera ducked back into the house, slamming the door behind her and trying to lock it, the tears in her eyes making the latch difficult to work. She began sobbing as she realized it was broken, wiping at her streaming eyes with the backs of her dirty hands as she looked over the scene. One of the legs of the table had fallen off, the door to the storeroom wide open. Tavera walked over to close it, drawing her breath in horror as a realization prickled in her brain.

The machine. She had left all he parts out on the table for the woman to inspect them and the man had tipped over the table. If Tavera knew any prayers, she would have recited them as she dropped to her hands and knees, desperately searching for the pieces of metal which belonged to Auntie Greswin’s precious machines. Panic stricken eyes scanned the floor, finding a few but not all. Quickly, she popped up and grabbed the broom, sweeping maniacally in the hopes of knocking one of the missing pieces out of hiding. A few actually did roll out and she spread them all out in front of her, counting the pieces feverishly. Tavera cursed. They weren’t all there.

The sound of the front door opening flooded Tavera with fear. She felt as if she would vomit and it took every shred of her being to keep herself from passing out from fright. Instead she sat there on the floor, frozen.

“Girl?” The shuffling of Madame Greswin’s feet and the tap of her cane drew closer, her shadow reaching the back room before she did. The two beady eyes glinted in the firelight and set themselves on the shivering girl. The woman stopped short, her cane banging hard on the floor as her wet, shriveled mouth quivered on her face. A thin, high whistle came out of her mouth as she stared at the girl, her gnarled knuckled gripping the head of her cane. “Where…where did you get that ribbon, girl?”

The ribbon. She must have put it in her hair and forgotten to take it out. Just as Tavera gained her voice back, the woman’s eyes darted to the floor in front of her, falling on the metal pieces in the girl’s apron. Tavera felt the rage of the woman growing steadily and then the sharp, hot pain of being grabbed by the ear.

The woman’s fingers had an iron grip on the tender point and Tavera shrieked in pain, blocking the woman’s cane with her hands, the hard wooden shaft cracking against her wet hands. Auntie Greswin panted, her beady eyes glazed over with intense emotion. She dropped her cane to the floor, her free hand reaching into her apron pockets. The glint Tavera saw out of the corner of her eye elevated her terror to heights unknown and she fought against the old woman, shrieking and kicking, managing to drag the old woman to the floor with her. But the bony, stone like fingers still gripped her ear.

“Evil little girl,” the woman snarled, the glint still dancing somewhere out of Tavera’s direct line of sight. The suggestion of what was there was worse than actually seeing it. “Stealing from me, breaking my machines! How dare you! I’ll not have such treachery under my roof. Evil little creatures must be PUNISHED!” The glint shot closer and then the pain of her ear went from a throb to something sharp and raw.

Tavera was unable to keep back a beast-like shriek as the sensation seared into her brain. Something brushed against her fingers. She wrapped her small hands around it, striking around as hard as she could with it. It hit something both hard and soft. Tavera struck it again and again before the little girl realized nothing was holding her anymore. Tavera dropped whatever was in her hands and without thinking shot up off the floor, propelling herself out the back door and bolting down the alley in the opposite direction that the thieves had gone.

Her boots and thin dress were worthless in the winter air. The thin leather soles skipped rhythmically across the barely cobbled streets as the girl ran desperately, tears threatening again in her eyes. Oh goddess, why had this happened? Her ear still stung. Cold, icy air licked the edges of her small body, the activity and pitch of her anxiety keeping her going. If anyone noticed she was bleeding, no one said anything. If anyone was concerned as to why a small child might be running around in the dead of winter without a coat, no one stopped her. So she ran, the energy it took to keep back her tears and run becoming too much for her to bear. Tavera finally stopped, slumping down against a crate and giving herself over to her sobbing.

The cold snow started to bite through her skin, the air pressing in around her. Still she cried, her hands starting to clench with cold, her body shivering. Why had this happened? Why had the woman done that to her? Her hand trembled as it reached up to the side of her head, the numb skin of her ear not registering the pressure but she felt the damage.

The little girl sobbed again, seeing her hand was covered with a red smear of blood, dark crust speckling her hand. What was going to happen to her? She couldn’t go back to the sausage shop; even if Auntie would take her back, she was liable to beat her within an inch of her life, if not out of it. If the Nabs got her, she’d be put on the block with a bad mark on her record. Only the worst professions took children like that and most of those children didn’t come back for another cycle on The Blocks. They were usually too crippled by whatever work they had been doing to do anything else or just disappeared.

There was no safe place to go for her. Eventually, someone would notice her and take her to the Nabs. From the Nabs, it would be The Blocks and then it wouldn’t be much longer after that. Tavera sobbed, trembling so hard she almost toppled over onto the snow, dreading whatever was to come and take her away.

The sound of footsteps barely registered in her ears as she faded away. The alley was staring to swim before her senses and she felt herself being lifted up. Tavera thought she heard, “red is my lucky color today.” Before she could try to figure out what it meant, she passed out.

Tavera sniffled, shaking her head from side to side slightly as she came to, still under the impression ill fortune was all that was hers. As she moved her head, someone came towards her and sat next to her, laying a soft, warm hand on her forehead. It was one of the kindest ways anyone had ever touched her. Still she started to cry again, trying to bring her hands up to push them away. Something seemed to be sitting on her chest and legs, weighing her down and the girl began thrashing around, trying to push the weight off her. Pressure came down on her shoulders and there was a low shushing sound beside her, something quiet and soft. Tavera managed to open her eyes, as sleepy as she was, trying to focus them on the person who had their hands on her shoulders.

It was a woman with blond curls and light eyes, her cheeks very rosy and her nose covered in some kind of white dust. She was plump without being fat, her pale bosom pushed up and out by the woman’s belt she wore around her torso. The expression on her face was kind and as her eyes met Tavera’s, she lifted her hands off the little girl’s shoulders, releasing her.

The woman smiled, her face a mixture of anxiety and relief under the make up. “You gave us quite a fright there, little one. Don’t worry, you’re safe with us.” Tavera’s eyes darted around the room, first across her body and then around her, trying to take in everything at once. She was covered in thick, warm blankets; this was the pressure she felt over her body. The room was lit with two oil lamps and over against one of the walls was the biggest mirror the little girl had ever seen. The woman smelled good and was still looking at her kindly.

“Where’s my clothes?” Tavera asked. She realized that she was naked under all the quilts. The woman laughed, leaning closer to her and brushing a stray hair out of the girl’s face.

“Don’t worry about those old things. I just had to get them off of you so we could look you over. ’Sides, they were wet and we had to get you warmed up.” The woman reached over to the side of the bed, where a bowl sat, steam still rising off the top. She dipped the spoon in a few times before blowing on whatever she pulled out, looking at the girl again. “Kept the ribbons, though.”

“I don’t want them,” Tavera mumbled, eyes filling with tears as she looked to the side. Those ribbons...they had been the first thing the old crone had noticed. She never wanted to see them again. Tavera sniffled, the aroma of whatever was in the bowl wafting up to her nose. The little girl shifted under the blankets, deciding this was the warmest she had been in a long time. She rather liked it. Her mouth was a distrustful pout as she tried to look into the bowl, the woman still holding the spoon. “What’s that?”

“It’s soup,” the woman said, putting the bowl under her chin and offering her the spoon. “Ain’t you hungry? It’ll warm you up.” Tavera looked down into the spoon, opening her mouth slightly so that the woman could feed her, swallowing the warm broth. It did warm her up and it tasted good. Why was this woman so kind to her? The woman smiled and fed her another spoon of soup, blowing on it so it wouldn’t burn the little girl’s tongue. It was all very surreal to Tavera but she wouldn’t object to being placed in warm blankets and fed hot soup. She would only hope that it didn’t come to an end too soon.

“Prisca, Fior is here askin’ ’bout taking us both for a go. What should I say? Oh, you’re awake!” A thin, long haired girl popped into the doorway, her cheeks the same rosy hue as the buxom one. The girl smiled at Tavera, showing that one of molars was missing but she had a sweet smile. She sat down by the woman called Prisca on the bed, her brown eyes looking over Tavera. “You gave us all a scare!” she said, reiterating what the other had said. The skinny one placed her arms around Prisca’s middle and hugged her, sighing as she looked over the little girl. “You was bleeding something fierce but Sera got you patched up. You poor little thing.”

Tavera blushed at having someone pity her, swallowing the spoonful of soup the woman had fed her. She squirmed under the covers. Both the woman laughed out loud, Prisca’s laugh bordering on a high pitched cackle while the others was more sweet and melodic, the woman even putting a hand over her mouth.

“It sure is quaint to see a body blush in this house, ain’t it Gia?” Prisca set down the bowl and placed her hand on the girl’s forehead again, even bending over to kiss her on top of her head. When she did, her breasts smashed into Tavera’s face, almost suffocating her but the kiss was brief and the crisis avoided. Tavera snaked her arms out from under the blankets, letting them rest on top as she frowned, looking over the two woman that were looking over her hair ribbons and apparently trying to decide who should take which one. The little girl waited for a moment before she drew in a breath, touching her ear.

It was cut straight across, the slight point completely gone. It was still raw but someone had put something oily on it, the orange colored grease staining her fingers as she drew them away.

The woman named Prisca saw the little girl’s face and pity managed to force its way past rouge and powder. Tavera trembled as Prisca perched on the side of the bed. The woman’s warm hand brushed her knotty tresses out of her face and she tucked her hair behind her ears, careful not to touch the still fresh wound.

“Don’t you worry ’bout that, love,” said Prisca. She laid a hand on the little girl’s face, staring into her eyes. The eye contact made Tavera feel slightly uncomfortable but the woman held her head, the other woman sighing faintly in the background. Prisca kissed her yet again on the forehead before releasing her, letting her fall back. “You’re with us now and us brass take care of each other. Just get some rest.” The woman put a hand on her forehead before she pulled herself away, the thin woman taking her hand before leading her out. Prisca shut the door behind her so Tavera was left in the room alone.

Tavera sniffled under the sheets, drawing them closer around herself as she rolled over. Brass. It could have been worse. Tavera saw them walking the streets, wearing bells at their breasts as advertisement for something Tavera didn’t quite understand. All that she knew was men were interested in it and brass sold it. They frequented the temples in the morning, peddling their invisible wares on the surrounding blocks. She figured in time she would find out what it was they were selling. For now, Tavera knew she was warm and extremely tired. Without giving heed to the bumps and noises of the house around her, the little girl closed her eyes and fell asleep.