Roses and Black Glass: a dark Cinderella tale

by Lenore, Lani

  Wren looked up at the sound of the angry cry, and when she saw Henry clinging to the man’s shoulders and throat as if to choke him, she knew that all the color had drained from her face. Her insides clenched, tangling in a knot that grew increasingly tighter. She knew from the first moment that this was not going to go well. Teetering one way might send them both into the machine, but even if they avoided that, she knew Henry would not win.

  No, no, Henry!

  Worthy did not go down, for he was much larger than Henry, but he did drop his club, which slid under the machine where the scavengers lived, disappearing into the dark. This gave Wren enough time to get up off the floor, for Worthy had forgotten her completely, but Henry was not so lucky. The boy had a lot of anger, but not much body mass to back it up. He was easily thwarted by the larger man.

  The Devil flipped him over onto the floor and gave no warning before he began to smash his heavy fist into Henry, even though the boy was trying to block and kick with fury – anything he could do to lessen the blows. A mighty punch in the gut made Henry drop his guard from his face, and then the blood began to flow.

  Wren’s first instinct was to run, but she knew that she couldn’t leave this as it was, or she would have nothing more than a broken, bloody mess for a brother.

  The man was hitting Henry in the face with his bare knuckles, the blows slow but forceful. Blood was pooling out of his nose and mouth, droplets splattering over the floor. Worthy didn’t see that Henry was a child, much smaller than him. All he saw was the red of his rage. The sight of the boy’s blood was only feeding that fury, and the sadistic grin on his mouth proved it.

  Someone do something!

  Wren looked around frantically at the other workers, many of them women and children who were too afraid to do anything, thinking the same might happen to them if they intervened. Some had not even pulled away from their machines. This was such a frequent occurrence that it didn’t faze them – just as long as they weren’t the ones on the ground.

  She was as afraid as the rest of them, but she couldn’t let this happen to Henry. She didn’t know what the consequences would be, but she cast that aside. This man was going to kill him if she didn’t act!

  Knowing that she couldn’t wait for anyone else to step forward, she let her instincts take over. Wren pulled herself off the floor and ran toward Worthy, casting off her fear and inhibitions. She leaned in with her weight and threw herself into him, shoving him as hard as she could.

  A vengeful wail burst from her lungs and the man lost his balance, flailing backward. His girth made it impossible for him to regain his footing before he fell flat on his large rump. That was enough time for her to grab Henry and help him get out of harm’s way. He seemed disoriented, but she wasn’t surprised at that when she considered the amount of blood that was running down his shirt.

  That will never come out.

  “Are you okay? Henry?”

  She clasped his head between her hands to force him to look at her. He managed to nod, and she saw that his eyes were able to focus on hers. He was, at least, not too damaged.

  Thank God, he’s –

  Her thoughts were shattered by a piercing yell of agony, and she lent her eyes back to the scene. On the floor, Worthy had toppled over and instinctively reached back, stretching out his hand to catch something for leverage – but he hadn’t been quick enough to remember the spinning machine. His scream filled the factory as his hand was caught in the weave, but the machine did not yield for him, and within moments, had torn off several of his fingers.

  Blood gushed out in spurts, dying the weave a hideous red. Everything seemed to stop then. The other workers – so many of them grimy, unclaimed children – were standing back, simply looking on with horror in their eyes while the overseer writhed on the floor, clenching what was left of his mangled hand.

  Wren was frozen in place, unable to move or even breathe – do anything except stare at him, knowing she had done it.

  This is not good. It’s not happening…

  She was in a daze when Henry grabbed her arm, and then they were running through the mill and out onto the street. No one stopped them. No one outside even knew what they were running from, but Wren knew, and also grasped that it would be better for them if they didn’t stop.

  They ran until they were tired, and Henry pulled her into an alley before they halted. He leaned back on one side of the narrow space and she slumped against the other. Breathless, they looked at each other in wild surmise. They didn’t need words to know exactly what the other was thinking. Perhaps they had escaped the worst of the beating, but the worst was to come. Even as they stood here, Wren knew that everything she had worked for – everything that she had tried to preserve – was over.

  Chapter Three

  1

  “This disappoints me,” Miss Nora said. “It really does.”

  Wren and Henry were sitting in front of her desk, which served as a barrier to keep them separated from her sympathy. She was not their mother, and since they had caused trouble for her, she was also not their friend. She might have denied that she knew them at all if not for her contract with the factory. Wren knew she must take what she could get from the woman as far as mercy, but already knew it wouldn’t be much.

  Wren had finally convinced Henry that they had to come back to the Home even despite what might have been awaiting them. If for no other reason, they could not simply vanish and desert Max. Wren was certain that once Miss Nora had seen how badly Henry had been beaten, surely they would get some compassion. She was at least right about that, though it wasn’t much more than getting Henry doctored properly.

  Wren glanced over at the boy now, and she felt terribly guilty with her small welt compared to what he looked like. His cheeks were puffy with bruising, and one eye was nearly swollen shut. His bottom lip was split, but he was lucky that he still had all his teeth – if she had a right to call it lucky.

  There were papers on the desk, detailing their release from the factory, giving up all the discriminating details, which Wren was certain made them seem like the ones fully at fault. She didn’t want to read them and there was no real use in speaking against the charges. All she could do was beg for mercy.

  “I suppose the only thing I can do now is give you your choices. Do you want to go to the workhouse? Be on the street? Or do you want to continue to stay here?”

  “We want to stay here,” Wren said quickly. Her heart was beating furiously, hammering away at the nails in her coffin. She felt that since this had happened, they would be cast out on the street for certain, regardless of what she said.

  Henry still hadn’t tried to make a case for himself, and Nora was waiting for him to. When he did not, she called for his attention.

  “Henry,” she said sternly. “Your sister loves you very much, and you have hurt her by this.”

  Wren saw his eyes widen – saw the words welling behind his lips and she begged for them not to burst free. When he actually managed to keep quiet, she was relieved.

  “I’m going to try one more time to place you in work, but this is the last chance. I have often refused that any children in my house should go to the mines, but perhaps that is the only place for you.”

  “No!” Wren protested on his behalf. She knew how treacherous the mines would be. There was often news of cave-ins, and even if not that, she still did not want to imagine her brother down there alone in the dark. “Please just put us in another factory and nothing like this will ever happen again.”

  Nora eyed them both, giving particular consideration to Henry, but she didn’t say anything else on the subject.

  “Henry, you may go. Wren, I’d like you to stay a moment.”

  Henry cast a glance at Wren and then tromped out heatedly, glad to be free, but the idea of time alone with Miss Nora did not make her feel at ease. It could not have led to any good conversations.

  Once the woman was sure that Henry had gone, she looked Wren in the eyes.<
br />
  “You need to prepare yourself for the worst,” she said firmly. “The two of you lashed out at a supervisor and caused him to be severely injured. This is not something that’s easily hidden or forgiven. No one wants a defiant youth.”

  “But you will try,” Wren led on hopefully, though she felt she was asking in vain.

  “That man violated our contract, but that cannot explain away what you did to him. I’m not going to hold my breath, and you shouldn’t either. I may still be able to get some domestic work for you, but if I can’t place Henry within the next few weeks, then he’s going off to Armstrong’s to work in the mines. I’ll leave it to you to tell him – or not – as you see fit.”

  Wren felt tears pressing behind her eyes, but she couldn’t say that she hadn’t known. A thousand consequences had gone through her mind and this had only been one possibility. They couldn’t get away with what they had done, even if it hadn’t been entirely their fault. It would have been better if Henry had just let her take the beating. At least it would have been over and done with.

  She looked down at the scarred surface of the desk, trying to keep herself together.

  “May I go now?” she asked, her voice low and strained. But Nora would not release her.

  “There is one more thing.” Wren looked up, wondering how this could have gotten worse, but knowing it was about to. “A husband and wife who were at the visitation yesterday have expressed a desire for adoption, and I have approved it.”

  Wren wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Her heart was tugging one way and her mind the other. If she was a puppet, she would have been tangled beyond use. She remembered the woman she had spoken to and her husband with the hungry eyes. Was it them?

  “They want to adopt Max – only Max.”

  Wren’s face fell as understanding sank in, passing from cautious expectation to absolute fear.

  “What? No!” It was her natural reaction to protest, whether or not it was acceptable for her to do so. She had been looking after Max since he was a baby, and though she’d claim she didn’t want him to look to her as a mother, she couldn’t help but feel that her own child was being ripped from her.

  “Wren, you know how often we get to move children out of here,” Nora said reasonably. “This is for the best.”

  “He’s my brother. Don’t I get a say in this?”

  “It’s a courtesy that I’m telling you first,” she said firmly.

  Wren looked back at her, hardly able to believe this harshness. Miss Nora was not usually cruel – distant, perhaps – but this all seemed particularly cold to Wren. She stared at the woman until finally Miss Nora sighed, looking so aged in that moment that it was frightening. Wren saw a reflection of herself beyond the hard life that awaited her.

  “Wren, I know how you feel about the three of you staying together, but let us face the facts. You’re growing up to be quite an attractive young woman and you can’t hope to hide it forever. Despite your effort, you’ll eventually be bought off to be someone’s wife – if you’re lucky enough to even get a commitment like that. Who’s going to protect them then? Henry, with his attitude, may never get out of here, and this could be Maxwell’s only chance before it’s too late for him as well. Would you rather him be on the street? Down a mine shaft somewhere with Henry? You need to think about what is the best thing for Max; not for you. He’s young. There is no future for him if he stays here. Be reasonable.”

  Wren was trying to be reasonable, but all she could think was: I’m going to lose both of my brothers now. All of this struggling to stay together, and for what?

  “The Ausbrooks are wealthy,” Nora said as a way of consoling her. “They have an estate in the country and have traveled out to prepare the house for him. He’ll be well taken care of, will have a good education and will grow up to be a fine young man with the love of a family, like he deserves. How could you ask for more than that?”

  In her heart, Wren knew she was right, but yet it was a lot to swallow at once.

  “How long?” she wanted to know. She heard her own voice breaking up, but she swore she wouldn’t cry – not now.

  “Several weeks yet. They hope to be back by the end of the month. Plenty of time to say goodbye.”

  2

  After that, Wren didn’t have much to say to anyone. She was irresponsive to any verbal attempt as she carried out her chores and helped to prepare supper for the rest of the children. By the time she sat down with her brothers to eat, she was like a ghost, drifting about, transparent and with no purpose.

  The meal was one of their more conservative. It was an oatcake with onions and a small amount of potato, which outshined everything else, despite it being such a little chunk. They did eat better than this on occasion, but it seemed that Nora’s displeasure had affected the menu. They were all being punished for it. She had lost the income from two workers and intended to make up the difference somewhere.

  Wren stared blankly at the table, beyond her plate of food, not paying attention as Max pushed his oatcake off onto the floor. Henry tore his into little pieces, stirred them around on his plate for a bit and then finally put one morsel past his sore lips. He had only just tasted it before he spat it back out onto the plate and shoved all of it away from him across the table, making several of the others look up from their own food in surprise.

  “I don’t want this,” Henry muttered sullenly.

  Wren snapped back to herself. She could see that look on Henry’s face – the way he stared down at the table, lips clenched. She suspected that something else was bothering him instead of the food, but decided to feign ignorance. She hardly had the energy to deal with his issues right now.

  “What’s wrong with it? Is your mouth sore?” He was still swollen from the beating he’d taken. There was no denying that.

  “It tastes like shit.”

  “Henry!” She didn’t like to hear him say words like that. It was unrefined, and they were not lowlifes. They had been taught better than that. It did, however, make several of the others at the table giggle, which roused Maxwell’s attention, because he did not understand.

  “What’s ‘shit’?” Max asked, looking up at her with his inquisitive four-year-old eyes. Wren was aghast, but Henry snickered with his head down. There was a short smile on his busted lips.

  “It’s a word none of you should be saying,” she scolded them all, then glared at Henry. She lowered her voice to rebuke him. “That’s perfect, Henry. Just what we need is to have him saying words like that in front of his new parents.”

  It was out of her mouth before she’d thought much about it. Wren froze, waiting for him to demand what she meant by that, but Henry did not seem to grasp onto it.

  “We don’t need new parents,” he told her. “We have parents somewhere.”

  “Who gave us up,” she reminded him.

  “Exactly. It didn’t work the first time. Why would it work again? There’s no point in hoping for it. It’s not going to happen!”

  Wren was angry with him, furious in fact. He was so young and stupid that he could not possibly understand what was happening right now, just under his nose. She almost erupted and told him what Nora had said to her – that he was going to be sent away and Max was being taken – but she managed to keep it contained inside. It was stagnant water in an old bottle.

  “What happened today is not alright,” she warned him. “It won’t be forgotten or forgiven. We won’t just waltz away from it like nothing happened. You need to stop living in a fantasy and realize that there are going to be consequences!”

  “What happened?” a girl across the table asked. Her name was Polly and she was around seven years old – much too young to be concerned about it.

  “Wren pushed the Devil into the machine. Tore his hand right off,” Liam informed her quietly. He had been there to see it.

  “Was he trying to get the gold?” Polly asked innocently.

  Wren felt a chill run through her. Henry looked at her
knowingly.

  “Then there’s no sense hoping that someone will adopt us then, is there?” he asked smartly. “That’s a fantasy too.”

  Wren was fed up, unable to take any more. She wanted to yell at him but held back for the others’ sakes. Instead, she lifted her tin plate and slammed it back down on the table, scattering food and making a loud noise that startled them all.

  “You’d rather stay here and eat shit? Fine. Maybe you’ll get your wish.”

  Wren’s face flushed when she allowed herself to say the forbidden word, but she was too angry to go back on it. She got up and walked away from the table, leaving Max there and Henry bewildered. He just didn’t understand. Did he really have no grasp on what they had done? Did he not know that they weren’t going to be excused from it?

  I can’t deal with this. I just can’t.

  Wren went to the girls’ washroom, closing herself away. She sank down in the corner against the wall, feeling the coldness of the tiles pass through her dress. She was alone, and she didn’t bother holding back her tears. Everything was falling apart around her and she could do nothing to stop it. Soon, her family would all be gone and she would be the only one left.

  I won’t have anyone at all, she thought. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to belong...

  The door of the washroom began to open and she tried to turn away so that no one would see her sorrow. Tears were contagious in this place.

  Glimpsing a familiar form made her look up, and she was surprised to see that it was Henry. She was so shocked that he had come after her that she simply stared at him, dumbfounded. After that, it was too late to hide her tears.

  “You’re not supposed to be in here,” she told him, but that meant very little to her rebellious brother, who didn’t care for rules. He sat down next to her against the wall, watching her as she tried to get a handle on her emotions. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, knowing they made her eyes look puffy and old.

  He was quiet for a few minutes as he waited for her to stop sobbing, looking sober and patient, which was very unusual for him.