mouth a thin line. Her eyes glinted black. Mrs. Kennie laughed heartily. "I doubt my facilities are qualified in this case." She put a hand on Claire's shoulder. "This is a very special case." Claire looked at the thin woman shyly, with wide eyes.
The woman looked over the group again, her black eyes settled on him for a bit and she frowned. But then she shrugged. "All right, come on in." She said as the gate rolled up with a clattering noise.
"When are you going to get yourself a field gate?" Mary chided her. "This thing is ancient."
The woman sniffed. "It's saved me from many a bandit in its day. I don't trust those F-gates one bit. One power outage and you're vulnerable to looters and thieves."
Mary chuckled as they walked into a small lobby. "Meredith, we haven't had a power outage in fifty years. And my Cantor F-Gate has never let me down."
The thin woman snorted, stepping behind the counter. "I never buy anything made by Cantor. Everything they make is over-padded and over-priced. That will be four-fifty." She said. Mrs. Kennie reached for her purse. "The young man too." She said. She pulled out a silver card.
The thin woman shrugged again. "Fine." She pointed behind her. "Men's baths are that way."
Claire looked up at Mrs. Kennie. "I don't want to go in without him." She said firmly.
Mrs. Kennie smiled down at her. "Sweetie, that's not how it works." She said. "I'll go in with you, you won't be alone."
Claire shook her head. "No, you stay here. He needs to come with me. He'll need my help."
Mrs. Kennie exchanged a look with the owner. Meredith looked over at Beast, noting his lack of arms. "It's fine with me." She said. "The baths are always empty at this time anyway, so no one will complain." She drummed her fingers on the counter.
"At least let me help you wash your hair." Mrs. Kennie said to Claire. “You'll need help removing your bandage.
Claire relented. The three of them entered the baths. Her eyes widened at the large space they entered. Everything was empty and extremely white. There was a locker area with benches to sit on while you undressed. Mrs. Kennie helped her out of her rags and unbound her feet. She had no shoes, so her feet were tied up in more rags.
Her shadow merely stood in a corner, his eyes moved over the entire space steadily. Claire wondered if he was perhaps uncomfortable in large spaces, where he couldn't watch everything at once.
Mrs. Kennie removed the bandage on the side of her head, looking over the wound. “It's closed up nicely. You'll have a scar, but it'll be hidden by your hair.”
They moved to the next area, where water sprayed on her from the ceiling. She kept her eyes closed tightly at first as the water ran over her head and body. After a while, she opened her eyes. She stared as the water and bubbles streamed off of her and hit the stark, clean white tile floor, going down the shiny metal drain. The water that ran off of her was gray. She reached out her hands and let the water from the ceiling pool in them. She had never seen something so clear and pure before. She watched intently as she opened her hands and the fat clear drops hit the tile.
Soon she was scrubbed clean. Mrs. Kennie exclaimed loudly as she washed Claire's hair. "Now, this is a wonderful surprise!" A long red lock of hair fell across her eyes. Claire looked up at her through her red, wet hair with her head tilted to one side.
Mrs. Kennie smiled. "You have very pretty hair." She said. "Once it's washed and all the tangles are out. Now, time to soak." She pointed to the large pools of clear water that occupied half of the building. She gathered up Claire's clothes and headed for the door. She paused at the body standing still as stone, leaning in the corner. "Just make sure she doesn't drown herself, okay?" Then she was gone.
Claire sat on the edge of the bathing pool, trailing her feet in the water. Her hair was brushed out now and it draped over her back and over her shoulders. She lifted one red lock up between two fingers, inspecting it closely. It was so different than her scraggly brown hair. Except this was her real hair, under the dirt. She caught a movement in the corner of her eyes. It was just her shadow, moving closer to the pool. He just stood there, saying nothing. There was something wrong with him, she decided.
"You're still dressed." She told him.
"Yes." He agreed.
She narrowed her eyes, giving him a sideways look. She stood up and walked up to him.
He watched her as she stood right in front of him, looking up at him. Her skin was a pure, pale white, her hair was dark red and fell straight as a pin. Her blue eyes stood out more in her clean, thin face. They were a bright blue, glowing under the harsh lights that flooded the pristine bath room.
His own sharp yellow eyes were on hers. They stood that way for a long while. Her, with her hands on her hips. Him, merely looking down at her.
"Come on." She said at last, firmly. "You need to get clean too." She tugged on his cloak with both hands.
Still, he looked down at her. He noticed how dark his cloak looked against her skin. Her hands would be dirty again just from touching it. Finally, he bent down onto his knees. Even then he was still taller than she was. He lowered his head. She put her hands to the sides of his face and looked at him intently.
Again, there was a long pause, before she broke the silence again. "It feels pretty good to be clean." She said to him. She dropped her hands and pulled at the neck of his cloak, trying to figure out how it closed. "Besides, I want to see what else you are hiding under here." She said to him. She found a clasp behind his neck and pressed it. The cloak dropped away from his body, bunching up on the bright tile floor.
He turned his head slightly in her direction, his yellow eyes were so bright just then. "Are you sure?" He asked. His voice was still without emotion, just as dead as dust. But she looked at those eyes and felt herself shiver slightly in the warm, damp air.
She looked away quickly. "Yes." She said firmly. She found a row of buckles going down his spine. She fumbled with them a bit before she steadied herself and tried again. They were unusual to her. There was a place she could press to unlock them, but it took a few minutes to find it, and discover just how to press it.
Finally she had them undone and his back was bare before her. The skin there was unmarked by dirt, and was a smooth, soot-black. She frowned. There were strange, dark-red markings on his skin, across his back. She ran her fingers over them. There was no difference in touch, so this was his skin, and not just dirt. She slowly traced the markings, they were hard to make out. She had seen something like this before. She tried to remember as she continued to trace the marks. She realized that they were letters:
1 . 8 . 3 . 4 . 8 . 7 . "Do you know how to read?" Claire asked.
"Yes."
"Can you read this?" She traced the symbols on the tile with the soap. She forgot to add the dots, and the letters were kind of squished together, but she thought well of her first attempt. 18 E4 s7
He examined her writing. "Beast." He said. "What does it mean?" She asked.
"It's another word for monster."
She frowned. "Is it your name?" She asked.
"No."
She walked around him so she could look at his face. He
turned his head, his eyes followed her. "What is your name?" She asked him, looking him right in his strangely bright eyes. "Nightmare." He answered.
She shivered again, but couldn't look away from him. "Is
it really?"
"I was called that, by someone, a long time ago." He said. "But that's not your name." She said slowly. "Beast
sounds better. I'll call you that instead."
"If you wish." He said. He turned his eyes away from
her, looking at the door.
She turned her head as well, but didn't see anything. She
looked back to him, he was still staring at the door. "Let's get you
clean." She said.
She helped him undress. She had some difficulty. The
metal straps binding his shoulders were bolted into his body,
through the black shirt he wore. It was of a strange, stretchy
material, but she couldn't get it free of the straps. She pulled
hard, but it didn't even tear. Finally, after much fumbling, there
was a click and it fell away. She picked up the shirt and frowned
at it intently. The metal rings set into the shoulders looked so
simple now.
The boots and pants came off much easier by comparison.
His skin was unmarked and hairless. She frowned at him. "My
father had hair on his chest." She said to him.
"Most do." He said.
She gave him a queer look, wondering if he was making
fun of her. Then she pushed him under the shower and washed
his hair. There was no transformation in color this time. His hair
remained black as pitch, though she did wash a good bit of dirt from him. It was then she noticed something else. "You're dirty. but you don't stink." She said to him. It was true. After she had washed away the smell of garbage, she found that he didn't smell like sweat. She wondered if he did sweat, or if he did and he just
smelled different than most people.
His clothes smelled awful though. They were covered in a
dark brown substance that absolutely reeked. She dumped them
under the shower for a bit and then draped them over a bench so
they could dry.
"Your hair is shiny now." She told him.
"It's wet." He answered.
"Hmph." She pushed him into the bathing pool. She
found a plastic bucket and rinsed him off.
He looked at her through dripping clumps of hair. His
eyes were nearly fierce. "Is this necessary?" He asked in his
deathly still voice.
"Yes." She said simply, and poured another bucket full of
water over him.
She took a step back and slipped. The bucket flew from
her hands and landed on the tile with a clatter. She grabbed him
around the shoulders to steady herself. He didn't waver, still as
immovable as a rock. She wondered how she had managed to
push him so easily before.
It was then that Mrs. Kennie walked in. She saw them in
the bath, with Claire's arms around the body. She let out a high
gasp and dropped her bundles.
Claire turned to her. Beast had already turned his head
before the door had opened. Claire smiled brightly, stepping out
of the bath. She walked quickly to Mrs. Kennie. She was careful
not to run so she wouldn't slip again.
"Are you all right?" Claire asked, smiling at her. "Yes, child." Mrs. Kennie said, collecting her bundles
from the wet tile floor. Her eyes were narrowed on Beast. He
merely gave her a dull blank stare back. She humphed under her
breath and turned her attention back to Claire. "Your, uh, clothes,
weren't salvageable, so I brought you a few things from the
restaurant."
Claire looked at her curiously, then peered at the packages
hopefully.
"It's always good to wear something. To cover up." Mrs.
Kennie said. "It's called modesty."
Claire nodded. She knew that. "Except for the bath,
right?"
Mrs. Kennie hesitated. Her eyes darted over to Beast for a
second. "Uh, right." She smiled at Claire. "And having nice
clothes can make one feel nice as well." She unwrapped her
bundles, pulling out a cute black dress. She helped Claire into it
and buttoned the front up for her.
Claire twirled, watching as the skirt swished lightly. It lay
pretty straight, but it did flare out when she moved. And it wasn't
entirely black. There was a lace collar and a white square on the
front going up to the collar. She fondled the smooth black
buttons, smiling.
Next were a pair of shiny black shoes. Claire gasped in
delight. She had never, ever owned shoes before. "These are
mine?" She asked.
"Until you outgrow them." Mrs. Kennie said, smiling. "Thank you." Claire said happily, stepping into them.
"Do you have anything for Beast?" She asked.
"Uh." Mrs. Kennie was taken aback. She looked over at
Beast. "I'm afraid I don't have any men's clothes." She said. Claire grinned at Beast. "Looks like you will have to wear
your old things."
"I don't need new clothing." Beast said. He stood up and
stepped out of the bathing pool.
Claire noticed that Mrs. Kennie was looking at the ceiling.
"What's wrong?"
Mrs. Kennie hesitated again. "I don't know, er, Beast very
well. It's not polite to see him undressed." She said.
Claire thought about this for a bit. "I don't know much
about him either, but he can't undress himself." She gave the
older woman a wise look. "Boys are different than girls, you
know." She said. "My mother told me."
Poor Mrs. Kennie was quite flustered by now, and did not
know what to say to that.
Claire misunderstood her discomfort. "You see, boys
have-" "I think I will just wait outside." Mrs. Kennie said loudly,
getting up and leaving quickly. "Just hurry along before another
customer comes in." Her voice followed her out the door. Claire shrugged and ran back to Beast. He was knelt
besides his clothing. She bent and picked up his pants. She
looked up into his face. "Are you uncomfortable?" She asked. "Not around you." He answered.
"Okay." She said simply. "Let's hurry and go." She held
up his still-wet pants.
Chapter III – Mrs. Kennie They entered the Sword and Rose from the front entrance. Claire's eyes widened. There were large glass cases covering one wall. She ran up to them, peering inside intently. "What are they?" She asked in wonder.
"These are my dolls." Mrs. Kennie said proudly. "My late husband made each one for me. They are all life sized and each one is unique."
Claire inspected each one closely. There were so many! There was a blond one with curls and dusky blue eyes, a brown haired one with bright green eyes, a black haired one with violet eyes, and countless others. They all wore the prettiest dresses, pink and black and white, some with ruffles, some with lace, embroidered, satiny, and velvety. They wore cute lacy headbands and all of them stood or sat with their hands neatly in their laps. She even found one with cute black shoes, like hers.
She reached down again and touched a lock of her hair. "There are no red-haired ones." She said.
"Natural red hair is quite rare." Mrs. Kennie said. "I doubt my husband ever met anyone with red hair, so he probably didn't know what it looked like."
"Oh." Claire said. She looked up at Mrs. Kennie. "Am I strange?"
Mrs. Kennie chuckled. "Yes, but all in good ways." Claire smiled, her eyes sparkled when she smiled. Mrs. Kennie put a hand on top of her head, smiling back at her fondly.
"You want me to stay here." Claire said suddenly. She could see it clearly in the older woman's face.
"If you like." Mrs. Kennie answered. "I wouldn't force you to."
Claire thought this over. "I'll stay for a little while, as long as Beast can too."
"I thought it might be that way." Mrs. Kennie said.
"And," Claire began. "You don't..." She searched her brain for the right word. "keep me." She said finally, even though it didn't sound right. "If I want to go, then I will."
"I thought that must be so as well." Mrs. Kennie answered. "Are you hungry, child?" Claire nodded. "Go on to the kitchen then." Claire turned and ran on ahead.
Mrs. Kennie gave her dolls a long
look and sighed. She jumped slightly as a dark shadow fell on her. Beast had stepped beside her. He stood next to her, looking ahead, towards the kitchen. "Claire is not a doll." He stated simply, and continued walking.
Mrs. Kennie frowned at his back. "I know that." She whispered to herself, and followed.
*** Claire stayed with Mrs. Kennie at the Sword and the Rose for over two months. She still remembered the junk piles she came from quite vividly. But she had been there long enough for her body to recuperate and her too skinny limbs to fill out. Her face was different too. Her cheeks were rounder and there were no longer shadows under her eyes. And Mrs. Kennie brushed her red hair silky smooth every morning.
She even gave Claire her own room. It was small and filled with boxes of materials for Mrs. Kennie's doll's clothes. A small bed was pushed against the wall, under the room's one window.
Claire liked looking out that window. She could look out at the Silver District. It was so different than the junk piles. The streets and buildings were organized and clean. She liked to watch people walking around. There were no hunted, desperate looks. No fear about the Carriers flying overhead.
Claire felt that while she got along with Mary Kennie well, the woman didn't like Beast too much. She would glance at him often. Sometimes warily, and other times disapproving.
Claire liked Beast a lot. He was interesting. She was so curious about him, where he came from and what had happened to him. He was tall and dark and a little scary. But, he needed her help. Not like Mommy had needed her help to carry water to the hut or to sort scraps. Claire felt that Beast needed her much more, that he would be utterly helpless without her.
She didn't know why, but the thought made her smile. "Sit down." She told him, wielding a comb and brush. He obeyed, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She placed a small box behind him and stood on it, so she could see over the top of his head.
"I'm tired of your hair being so messy all the time." She said as she began combing his hair. It was a tangled mess. She had to pull on the comb hard. Beast did not complain all during this. When she broke a few of the comb's teeth she tossed it aside and switched to the brush.
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