The Buttermore residence at number 42 Forest Avenue was a sharp-looking little cottage. The unweathered pine used in the construction would have attested to its newness, even had the yard not still contained scraps of construction material and various tools. It was a good-sized yard filled with the stumps of trees that had been cut down and used as part of the building material. The stretch of roadway just beyond the freshly whitewashed picket fence was one of the few that was bare dirt, not yet covered with white chert gravel. It was not yet completely dark when Staff arrived at six, the sun having set less than a half hour before. This was a good thing too, because there were no streetlamps and no other houses nearby to light the way, and Staff had neglected to bring a torch with him. He stepped carefully across the yard and knocked on the door, which opened to reveal Edin and Julietta Buttermore and the smell of cooking food.
The outside of the house was not yet finished, but the inside had already been converted into a comfortable living space. The front door opened to a parlor, separated from a dining room and kitchen by wide, arched doorways. A heavy sofa with a cover of shimmering golden cloth and two matching over-stuffed chairs were arranged around a fireplace, now filled with a blazing flame that brought the room to a pleasantly toasty temperature. Gold curtains with blue flowers covered all the windows. Staff noticed that all the shutters had been pulled closed.
“Sometimes a dinosaur will look in the window at night,” explained Buttermore. “And it gives Julietta quite a fright.”
“I can imagine.”
Between the windows, the walls were covered with framed pictures. Unlike many homes that Staff had visited where paintings still dominated, here every picture was a photograph. Many were of Julietta Buttermore, either alone or with her chubby baby. Only a few featured the entire family.
“You must have spent quite a pfennig to hire photographers,” said Staff.
“Not at all,” replied Buttermore. “I took all of these myself.”
“Edin is a wonderful photographer,” said his wife.
“I built a darkroom upstairs. It even has running water.”
Staff nodded in appreciation, though having only the vaguest understanding of photographic processes, he had no idea why running water would be of benefit.
“The railroad tells me that the first train of empty coal cars will arrive in two weeks,” said Buttermore, sitting on the sofa and indicating with a sweep of his hand that Staff should take one of the chairs.
“That’s good. By the time the spur line reaches the coal fields, we should have a shipment ready to be loaded aboard.”
“The lizzies are already digging?”
Staff nodded. “We have agreements from chiefs of three of the four nearby villages. I had them send out their diggers as soon as we had a contract with the railroad.”
“Do they know what to do?” wondered Mrs. Buttermore.
“Oh they know how to mine. Suusthek demanded tribute in semi-precious stones, among other things, and our local lizzies used to dig for them.”
“I heard that there was gold in the Suusthek,” said Buttermore. “Do you suppose they mine for it around here?”
“Ssithtsutsu supposedly took tribute from tribes over a huge distance,” said Staff. “But you can be sure that if gold is found anywhere around here, we’ll know about it. I would expect an even larger influx of settlers than we have now.”
“Let me check on our dinner,” said Mrs. Buttermore, daintily stepping through the arch into the dining room. A moment later she called out. “Dinner is served.”
Buttermore ushered Staff into the next room, where a small but well-crafted dining table had been laid out with porcelain dishes and fine silverware.
“You have a lovely home,” said Staff. “You seem to be getting along just fine in our new world.”
“We wouldn’t have been able to afford anything like this in Brech. Here the wages are so much higher and the land is very affordable. We took advantage of one of the loans the colonial government was offering for home construction too. The interest rate is far lower than a bank would have offered.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Of course there are no banks here yet, so we couldn’t have asked them for a loan anyway.”
Mrs. Buttermore brought out a steaming dish, held between two oven-mitted hands, and set it in the center of the table.
“Toad in the hole—my favorite,” said Buttermore.
When Staff finally left the office manager and his wife, he was surprised at how much he had enjoyed the evening. It was extremely dark, so he borrowed an oil lantern and walked back toward the town. Several times along the way, he heard the sounds of something moving through the gravel behind him. When he turned to look, he didn’t see anything. He expected to be set upon by velociraptors or worse, but finally he caught sight of the culprits. It was four or five ornithomimus, dashing out into the road to snatch insects attracted by the light. Though they were twice as large as velociraptors and just as swift, they had small, toothless mouths suitable only for prey far smaller than a man.
The following morning, Staff walked to the docks and watched as a massive ship carrying the Accord Banner of Greater Brechalon slowly pushed its way into the bay. By the time the S.S. Sabrina had been tied to its berth, hundreds of passengers had lined her deck and the shoreline swarmed with scores of lizzie dock workers and their human foremen as they prepared for unloading. Just beyond the hustle and bustle, sitting on a small pile of luggage next to a supply shed, he found Miss Jindra. Her coal black hair was streaked with a few strands of grey, but otherwise she looked as radiant as she had when he first saw her playing the piano in the S.S. Arrow’s first class lounge.
“You won’t be able to board the Sabrina for a few hours,” he said. “And even then, she won’t be leaving port for four days.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You’re in a big hurry to get the best cabin available?”
Miss Jindra looked up at his face, her dark eyes brimming with sadness.
“I was hoping to get aboard without having to face you. I don’t really deserve even this little courtesy.”
“You made a mistake.”
“I am a thief. I always have been. My mother deserted us and my father died when my sister and I were still young. We had to steal to feed ourselves. Then when my sister died of typhoid, I was all alone. I had nothing else but to steal to survive. Even after I became an apprentice to Madame de la Rosa though, I couldn’t get it out of my system. I couldn’t stop taking what others had that I did not. I soothed myself with the unction that at least I was not selling my body. But in the eyes of Kafira, is not one sin equal to another?”
“I’m afraid I’m not really the one to ask.”
“I despised you for your weakness, you know. To me you seemed another Abahu, with the strength of the spear, and yet without the capacity to use it to save your city or your soul. I despised you for your weakness and I was angry that it was not me that you had chosen upon which to demonstrate your strength of spear. Yet I am far worse than a warrior who makes poor choices in his chosen prey. I am a thief, not even a great or clever thief, not a thief that steals for righteous reasons. I am just a thief without any control. It seems that I have far less bridle on my inner beast than you do on yours. How can you stand to look at me?”
“Why don’t we go have something to eat?”
“I don’t want to leave the dock.”
“All right.”
Staff walked across the dockyard and purchased two smoky sausages and two bottles of Billingbow’s soda water from Mrs. Gopling’s cart. He returned and handed one of each to Miss Jindra. Balancing his food and drink in one hand, he turned one of her suitcases on end with the other hand and sat down upon it.
“I will admit to a certain amount of disappointment when I found out about the source of your illness,” he said. “But then I compared it, as you have done, to my own weaknesses. In that light it didn’t seem so damning.”
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br /> They ate in silence for a moment.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Back to Brech for now. Back to Madame de la Rosa. After that, I don’t know.”
More silence. They finished their ad-hoc meal and Staff dropped the debris into a nearby dustbin. He snapped his fingers and one of the nearby lizzies came running over, gathered up Miss Jindra’s possessions and carried them across the dockyard, stacking them with the outgoing freight.
“I’ve met quite a few remarkable women in the last few months,” said Staff. “You were the only one I could have seen myself getting to know in a more substantial way.”
“If it weren’t for her?”
“Yes, if it weren’t for her.”
“What is it about her?”
“I don’t know,” said Staff. “Good luck.”
He clasped Miss Jindra’s hand in his own for a brief moment, then letting go of it, he turned and walked east up the hill and away from the docks. He didn’t look back, and he never saw Amadea Jindra again.
Chapter Nineteen: Senta and Graham
Senta finished washing her face and brushing her teeth. She walked back to her bed and examined the dress that lay there. Even though Zurfina had not returned, clothing continued to appear each morning. Sometimes Senta ignored it and wore one of the dresses that she had purchased for herself at Mrs. Bratihn’s, but more often she simply slipped into whatever strange accouterments appeared. She had already put on her underclothes, including her bustle, when she lifted up the dress by the shoulders to examine it. This one was actually not too bad. It was black with puffy white sleeves and white lace trim around the neckline and the bottom. The only problem was that the bottom was just below her knees.
Senta rolled her eyes then slipped on the dress. She reached behind her and easily fastened the row of tiny buttons that ran up the back. Opening her top dresser drawer, she rummaged around and found her knee-high socks with one-inch horizontal black and white stripes. She sat down on the bed and pulled them on, and then put on her black patent leather high heels. Looking in the cheval glass, she decided that it didn’t look too bad.
Once downstairs, she thought for a brief moment about preparing some breakfast, but decided she’d rather walk to Mrs. Finkler’s. It was a new month and her pockets were once again filled with her stipend. The desire not to have to clean the kitchen and the fact of her newfound wealth had both conspired to disincline Senta to cook since Zurfina had left. And as Bessemer didn’t seem to mind, preferring to catch and eat wild prey anyway, she scarcely took the time to prepare any meals at home anymore. She looked at the steel dragon’s empty corner and then headed out the front door.
Senta had almost completely crossed the yard before she noticed Graham standing at the gate. His brown hair was neatly combed and his freckled face had been recently scrubbed. He wore a tan and white horizontally striped shirt that made him look chubbier than he actually was and a new pair of dungarees cut extra long and rolled up into cuffs over his work boots. In his right hand, he clasped a handful of small white flowers.
“You look kind of ridiculous,” she said.
“You should talk. I mean… you look nice. Here, these are for you.” He shoved the handful of flowers in her direction.
“Thanks. I didn’t think there were any flowers in bloom yet.”
“These are the only ones. They grow in the dinosaur poo.”
“Pretty. So what made you decide to come around here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must have some idea. I haven’t seen you in a whole month.”
Graham mumbled something.
“What?”
“I said I guess I missed you or something.”
Senta smiled and stepping over to him wrapped her arms around his left arm.
“I was on my way to Mrs. Finkler’s for breakfast. Come with me.”
“I’ve already eaten,” said Graham. He didn’t say this to decline her invitation and she didn’t take it that way. It was understood between them that for him two meals in a row was no problem. “I’m buying though.”
“Then it will be a real date,” said Senta.
“No, not really.”
Graham turned and headed toward town, Senta still holding onto his left arm.
“I think you’ve grown since I saw you last,” said Senta, who was several inches taller than Graham.
“Yep. Da says I’m in a spurt. Look. If we’re going to be friends…”
“We are friends,” she corrected.
“Okay. Yes, we are friends. But you can’t go fighting my fights for me. You have to let me take care of myself. I’m a man.”
“Nope. That’s not how it works. You are my friend and if anyone messes with you, I will crush them.”
Graham stopped and pulled his arm from her grasp so that he could put both of his hands on his hips.
“And,” she continued. “If anyone messes with me, you can do the same, just like you did with that Freedonian wanker Streck.”
The boy thought for a moment. “Well, that seems fair.”
They walked the rest of the way to Town Square and easily found a seat inside the bakery café. Graham surprised Senta by pulling out her chair for her.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.” Gaylene Dokkins wiped the table with a cloth, and then crossed her legs at the ankles, leaning with her elbow atop Graham’s head. “My little brother must have finally got up the nerve to go see his girlfriend. Did he tell you he’s been moping around the house for weeks, mooning over you?”
“Shut up Gaylene,” whined Graham.
“I think he’s just sweet,” said Senta.
“Well, as my Da always says, ‘to each his own’. What can I get you?”
“We’ll have some scones and lemon curd,” said Senta. “Do you have any sausages or bacon?”
“Both.”
“Then we’ll have both. Maybe some fruit?”
“I’ll have to check.”
“Okay.”
As Gaylene walked into the kitchen, Graham crossed his arms and set his jaw. “You could squash her like a bug and I wouldn’t even mind.”
“So you were mooning over me this whole time?”
“No. I was just helping out around the house.”
“Say, aren’t you supposed to be working? Didn’t a ship just come in yesterday?”
“Day before yesterday. Only I decided to take the day off.”
“Are you going to become a gentleman of leisure?”
“I am getting pretty tired of working.”
“Are you really thinking about quitting at the dock? You could work for the railroad or the coal company.”
“It was a pretty exciting expedition with Mr. Staff,” said Graham, pointedly ignoring his sister who had returned and was setting out their breakfast. “Plus, I got to see baby lizzies.”
Gaylene set a tray with a plate full of scones, a plate of bacon and sausages, a bowl full of sliced melon, and small crockeries of lemon curd and honey.
“Come on!” cried Senta. “Baby lizzies? Really?”
Graham nodded.
“Were they cute and wee?”
Before Graham could describe them, he was interrupted.
“I hope I didn’t hear you say you planned to leave the docks,” said the man just entering the establishment.
Both children turned to look at the large man in khaki work clothes with brown hair, a graying mustache, and pool blue eyes.
“Corporal Bratihn,” said Graham, jumping up to shake the man’s hand. “I haven’t seen much of you since you got back from Brech.”
“Nobody has,” said Senta.
Bratihn looked at her for a moment, and then laughed. “That’s true enough. For a while I’ve wanted to do nothing but stay home, do some work on the house, and watch my children. Now I’m ready to get back to a more broad interpretation of living my life.”
“Why did you ask me about the docks?”
> “Because I’ve just been put in charge of the docks, and I can’t think of a man I’d rather have on my team than Jammy Graham Dokkins. In fact Mayor Korlann insists that you are the young man to begin grooming for the job of my assistant.” Bratihn slapped Graham on the shoulder and sat down at the table in the far corner, where Gaylene promptly went to take his order.
“See,” said Senta. “Things are looking up already.”
“You didn’t magic him into coming in here did you?”
She made her eyes large and round. “You never know.”
After they had eaten, the two twelve-year-olds stepped outside into the sun. Though still weeks away from spring, it was warm enough if one stayed out of the shade. The sky was clear and bright, a vast expanse of light blue unbroken by birds, clouds, or flying reptiles. All in all, this had been one of the gentlest winters since their arrival in Birmisia. The high-pitched whistle of a train sounded from the south end of town. The two children looked at each other.
“Race you,” said Graham.
Senta nodded and started running. The two of them shot out of the square and down Bay Street as fast as they could go. At first Senta, with her longer legs, kept even with Graham, but a hundred yards beyond First Avenue, the high heel of her patent leather shoe twisted beneath her and she fell face first into the white chert gravel street, skidding along to a stop.
“Blinking Heck!” she said, as she rolled over onto her back and sat up in the middle of the road.
The Drache Girl Page 29