by Fey Truet
I put a hand on her shoulder, and when she met my eye I shook my head.
“And, no, Manna. You can’t have that. Even if I didn’t finish it, I still made it for Madame. In—”
“Ahhh,” Manna groaned.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“But, instead, I was thinking you’d like the one that I made specifically for you? But I suppose if you want that one so badly Madame would prefer another whole one.”
I shakily reached into my bag, my bones tightening at the motion, and pulled out a burlap sack decorated with Manna’s name, and then another with Celia’s. I couldn’t wince or show a painful expression if I wanted for the skin on my face felt stretched as tight as our model’s corset.
I was utterly relieved when Manna impetuously dashed over and grabbed her bag from me and pulled out the cake, scarf, hat, and gloves I made her.
“Oh, goodie, goodie, goodie! So soft. Y’know I always wanted a set since I started working here. You’re the best! Here Celia. Look what she made us.”
Manna grabbed Celia’s bag and threw it into her lap.
Celia sighed and looked down at it.
“It’s cute,” she said, and I let out a tightly wound breath.
Celia opened the bag and ruffled through its contents with the slightest of smiles and the pain I momentarily felt dissipated for now.
“Thanks,” she told me. “So what did you do with your goat? I know you didn’t release her.”
I felt the tears prick at the back of my eyes again and shook my head without allowing them release. “No. I took Tiny’s advice and left her with her uncle.”
“That must’ve been hard?” Celia asked.
I turned to where Manna ran off to the other room. She was bothering one of the hairdressers, most likely showing off. I nodded at Celia.
“I figured. You loved her. You love all of us because that’s all you know how to do. I bet that’s why you still haven’t been to see your brother.”
I froze, and that was exactly the response she was looking for because the dark waves of her hair flew over her shoulder.
She narrowed her eyes at me though I could feel the anger wasn’t completely mine to burden.
“Ugh! Why do you do that to yourself? Don’t you how hard it is to watch?”
I looked towards the door. It wouldn’t be hard to leave, but the weight of leaving things as they stood made it a huge burden. So I turned to Celia.
“Do what?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
We’ve had this conversation maybe hundreds of times over the last two years.
“Live like this. Every day of your life you’ve always lived it for others. For your father. For your mother. For your brother. Don’t you know that if it weren’t for any of them you wouldn’t be in this situation right now? You could be doing so many things, but because of them all you’re doing is torturing yourself over what you won’t ever be able to do. What you haven’t done yet.
“And if that isn’t bad enough, you won’t even go see the person you sacrificed everything for because you’re scared of that ungrateful little terror. It’s very clear that he doesn’t know how much harm he has done. Even so, don’t you think he deserves to know how much his words have tortured you? That, even now, everything you do, everything you’ve ever done was for him! Even… At the very least, don’t you deserve a little peace? Just to be a little selfish. It’s. This? You don’t know how… hard it is to watch you. You… don’t!”
She was now standing, but it made no difference with the tears flooding down her overheated face.
I covered my own wet face and continued to watch her.
I knew she was aware of the fact that Pohlin and I had fought, but I had no idea she knew to which extent. How long had she been watching me? Scrutinizing my every move?
She knew I hadn’t seen my brother in over two years but was still giving him my all.
I just had no idea.
“What would you have me do, then? You are one of the few people who understand my plight. I’m not… The small life I had was spurned and snuffed out long ago, for now, I live as a ghost in a story, the ending already well known. And it is the right of the living to make choices. All else not in that order is a twisted half truth sure to turn a world black.
“The truth as Pohlin spoke it stands. I made my last decision and now I must endure until it is for naught to do so. And all, and I’m sorry to say, even you, must suffer for it, for I am not so smart as to realize it.
“You say I should be selfish, but can’t you see that I have been? For all I’ve done and even now, suffering is much more suitable than peace. How could I not see it when my younger brother had? And by his own admission, he would not see me for such imprudence. Even so, it remains that my only selfish wish is that the ones I care for are and will remain well.
“I am sorry it is hard for you to watch,” I said, but even I could hear the bitterness in that last remark. It reminded me of the argument I brought up earlier.
To hurt, or not to hurt?
Celia fell to her knees, a dilemma of her own working through her eyes. Then she looked up at me. “I will not apologize. Especially when you cannot differentiate between selfishness and selflessness. You are no different from my brother, and he too digs his own grave.”
“I am not your brother!” I yelled at her. “And if I were I’d be ashamed of your behavior. Your brother joining the war was no fault of your own. He left to support you from afar because he felt that he couldn’t do enough here. Could you know how that feels? It’s an impossible feeling, and to leave for war with such low morale, and in spite, you crush his soul even further!”
“I don’t—” she tried, but I wasn’t done.
“You don’t respond to any of his letters. When he came to see you in the last season you refused him your smile and gave him no encouragement before he left. In what state do you think he is in? Do you think the Governess took you in out of the kindness of her heart? He sacrifices for you as I for my brother and does either of you spare us any woe?
“You asked if I knew how it felt to watch me, but now I ask you if you know how it feels to watch you? You hate your brother as my own brother hates me. Am I to take encouragement from the fact that you despise your brother that takes care of you the best way he knows? I don’t know how he can stand to face your bitter rejection, but watching you, I don’t have the courage to be discarded by my brother a second time. I’m sorry if you can’t understand,” I told her closing my eyes.
For a long moment, all we could hear was the sound of each other’s sniffles.
Why do we harm each other as we do? Is it really our right when we’ve been harmed ourselves? It just doesn’t feel right. Is it just not supposed too?
The door suddenly opened, and Manna still wound up from her gift burst in.
“Hey, guys! Lay is here so we… best… go—Uh, did I miss something?”
I wiped away my tears and blinked the rest away.
“Ah. Yes. But the moment has passed. You say Lave’ah is back. I must see her at once. Celia?” I asked.
I turned to see her still mopping up. She shook her head and then raised herself to meet my eyes.
“The moment has not passed. You say choices aren’t for the dead, but for the living. Then I order you to see your brother, your courage aside. If your brother is truly like me then he doesn’t hate you! He just wants you to stop being stupid without considering others’ feelings!”
Celia bumped into me as she rushed past.
“Lave’ah. I must take a personal day. I am not feeling well,” I heard Celia say as I rushed out behind her. Only she hurried out the moment Lave’ah gave her permission, and disappeared into the throng of people bustling about outside the boutique.
“Okay? Now I know I missed something. Is she going to be okay?” Manna worried, her eyes wider than I’ve ever seen them.
I couldn’t help but smile. With Manna
around, Celia would be okay.
“Yes,” I answered, locating Madame’s knit tucked in the waistband of Manna’s pants.
I snatched it from her earning a “Hey!” and went to Lave’ah.
She crossed her arms.
“When you first came to work here you promised me that you’d never cause me any problems as I recall. But you haven’t been anything but, since. Today, because of you, two of my girls aren’t in and you just sent one running. I’ve lost customers. Been yelled at. Harassed. Even stalked. What have you to say for yourself, Ms. Emare Tales?” Lave’ah asked.
To a stranger, I’d imagine, she sounded irate, but I could hear the inconsolable endearment in her richer voice.
I smiled and handed her all the final assignments I promised her customers.
“I finished all the alterations and knits, and even the Brogdan’s patterns, but unfortunately for Madame, I didn’t get all the way through her bond hat.”
My boss sighed and pulled out the silk moiré and linen patterns I put together. “I’m surprised you finished this much. I’ll give these to the girls downstairs to work on. I expect all your work is satisfactory as usual?”
“You’re not going to inspect them?”
She’s never gone a day without inspecting all of my work and giving her approval. My mouth hung a little.
She pursed her lips and I could almost hear the growl in its stead.
“Do I need to?” There was her growl.
“Oh. Ah. No. It’s my best effort at best. I mean. Uh? Better than my usual quality.”
“Good! Helene has your final pay if you are taking immediate leave,” she said, me hearing the reluctance in her voice.
Surely she didn’t want me to stay?
“Ah, yes. It’s getting late and there are still a few more things I have to do. But I want to thank you for the party you let the girls throw for me last week. It was really kind.”
She considered me for a moment.
“Oh, my gosh, Sis! Is your face actually red? Hahaha! You’re blushing! Hey, everyone! Lay is blush—”
I backed away when Lave’ah grabbed Manna and put her in the next worst thing to a chokehold. Even frightened, I was a bit jealous.
Those two always fought like that, though siblings, and yet you could see how much love was still there. Pohlin and I never fought until he told me he hated and never wanted to see me again for I was a freak.
“Walking corpse!”
I took a deep breath that hurt in my chest.
“I have... to go now.”
I turned around and rushed for Helene, whose face pulled down in disgust.
Not everyone here was sad to see me go.
“Here!” she said, throwing my final wage card at me so I wouldn’t come any closer. 30D, it read. An honest pay. Even so, I still heard those words.
“Walking Corpse!”
I started to run out, but when I got to the door Lave’ah called out for me.
I stopped and considered running out, but slowly turned around and met her eye.
“For what it’s worth, you weren’t an incompetent employee. If circumstances should change in your life, you should know that you are always welcomed back. I didn’t completely mind the problem you were,” she said.
I stared at her for too long.
She growled, “Ahem!” at my rudeness which made me jump.
“Uh. Thank you!” I cried out.
Before I broke apart I ran out, ignoring Manna’s farewell.
With permission now, I had one last place to go.
What Is Love?
There was a book I used to read Pohlin. What is Love, it was called.
I hated it, though it was Father’s favorite. It soon became Pohlin’s favorite as well.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine why.
In the book, there is a boy who follows a mole to a feast for all life. When the boy tries to eat, the food is taken from him and all the Earth’s creatures try to throw him out, so the boy asks why. All the animals and plants tell him it is because humans lack love, and the feast is only for creatures who share Mother Earth’s and Father God’s love. So the boy leaves the feast to discover what “love” is and why humans don’t have it. He searches the very edges of Earth until he is very old.
The story, for all its beautiful illustrations, doesn’t have a happy ending.
When Pohlin and I were still together, he’d have me read it to him every evening before I left for work.
“Why do you like this story?” I’d asked. “To say that we are discriminate and uncaring and take without giving anything back to the world is wrong. I don’t like this story.”
His answer shocked me.
“I like it because the boy reminds me of you, Emare. You love without even realizing it and go overboard when you don’t have to.”
I was speechless.
I was nothing like the boy in the story, but just for today, I hoped I could be.
I arrived at the gate to the second level and showed the keeper a residence pass. It was the one my father’s sister’s husband gave me so he could receive the payments for my brother’s expenses.
Father wasn’t my real father so his sister considered me nothing to her. My brother’s relatives had hated Mother.
I had no other relatives I knew of.
I only had Pohlin.
I took the pass because I had no idea what would happen to Pohlin if I didn’t pay.
For the most part, Ann and Caid Setes did seem to care for Pohlin as their own. I think part of it was due to the fact that they hadn’t been blessed with children of their own. But the demon was right to direct me to them. They were middle class and could provide for Pohlin in ways I could only dream. They even put him in their will.
Pohlin attended an expensive school and had a meal at all three wakes with snacks in between. They bought him clothes at every growth spurt, or even just on a whim, and the presents they lavished him with made the little notions and knick-knacks I used to smother him with senseless.
I mean, what is a kiss and a colored pen as opposed to a gateway.
Pohlin had a family in the sense of the word and I only served as an embarrassment.
I looked up at a clock and saw that it was at the fifth hour.
Because I knew nothing of this place, I decided to head straight for the Setes residence.
Pohlin, I feared, would be done with school by this hour.
I could knock out two task at once and be done with it.
People stared at me, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was different this time. I looked the same as usual. Was it because this was it? My last time here?
Then I realized what it was. I had never been here during the peak hours. Sometimes I came early in the morning, and other times I came after dark. There were never so many people out when I frequented and I scarcely crossed people my age. But at present, they were everywhere in this level.
It was mostly girls.
I couldn’t help but to stare at their uniforms, which they all seemed to wear, that all seemed identical in style.
Black or brown dress shoes. Bare or stocking legs. Solid dark skirts that varied in length. The snow white button-ups under the different colored vests, all of them with bandannas that matched each colored color.
It was unique how they all wore the bandanna differently. Some used them to tie up their hair or wore it as a headband. Others wore it around their neck like a scarf or tied it around their arms or legs. But the majority of the girls I saw had them wrapped around their waist like a belt. I caught onto the style and also noticed that certain age groups wore certain colors. The youngest I saw wore white, and the oldest, black. Everyone in between wore beige, brown, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, and grey.
Then in staring at them, I messed up big time.
Somewhere along the way, I took a wrong turn.
I looked at the street sign and saw letters that didn’t spell out
“Opticon Pl” as I was so used to but “Trevors Ln” which I couldn’t read.
“Oh, no!”
I looked around and couldn’t even tell which part of the three way fork I came from.
Why are there so many pathways?!
I looked at all the people, trying to gauge a tolerant soul, and just about paled. Many narrowed eyes found my humbly mislain form.
I couldn’t stand here looking lost.
“Well, I guess I’ll go, um, this way,” I pointed to the path straight ahead of me.
So I walked along “Converge Ln” wishing I could read even one of the signs, and walked, and walked. In short, I never found Opticon Place along that path. What was worse was I was growing hungry, and with hunger, my skin grew too tight for my human frame.
“Oh,” I wailed miserably.
I let my head hang as I stood there for a moment when I felt my nose flair.
Sugar and sweetness flooded around me carrying me on a river of confectionery goodness. It was such a sweet feeling I never wanted to—
“Thunk!”
Apparently, the window had other plans.
Blood and heat rushed to my face and neck even before I heard the laughter and snark remarks. I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them and pushing myself up.
The smell caught my nose again when the door of the bakery, I somehow managed to drag myself to, opened and bathed me once again in sweetness.
I turned back to the window, and, in a glowing case, soft textured cream cups swirled to paradise caught my attention as the heavenly white delicacies basked in all the world’s light.
My mouth watered.
Then I saw the crispy brown crumbs topped on red waves of cream, a huge wedge revealing the gentle orange texture sponged to perfection. My head tilted towards golden cookies, some filled with mountains of brown, white, or multicolored bliss, while others were topped with rainbows straight from cloud nine, and I—Bumped my head again.
It was a good thing too. It was just what I needed to snap out of my hunger induced deliria. I had to find the Setes Residence; not get lost in my hunger.
Even so, I couldn’t help but think Scarlet would love something from here. She loved sweet things as much as I.