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James frowns, his eyes searching the both of us.
“Of course, Momma. I’m glad you liked the soup. I’m going to wash the bowls now. You rest.”
I ease off the bed and reach out for the bowls, but James tucks them under his arm.
“I’ll help,” he says.
We walk to the corner of the shack with the wooden pail of water on the floor. I dip the rag in it and set to cleaning the bowls.
“What was she talking about?” James asks.
I’m not about to tell my little brother that Mother was once a slave and, among other things, used her body to earn money. “I’m not sure. She said I’d do well, at first. She’s not thinking clearly.”
James glances over his shoulder at Mother’s curtains. “It’s getting worse if it’s in her mind now. What are we going to do? Are there any other places that can hire you?”
I shake my head. I’ve been to all the seamstress shops in the city, including the ones I have no business being in. “I have an idea, but I’ll have to check it out tomorrow.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
Another thing I’m not about to tell my little brother is thatIplan on becoming a slave and usingmybody for money. “No need to get your hopes up if it doesn’t work out. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
James glares at me for a moment but goes back to Mother.
I take the dirty water out and dump it in the street. A short walk brings me to the queue for the well. Standing behind Mrs. Maggrie, I choose to take in our rundown corner of Lowtowns rather than talk to the old woman. It’d be nothing more than how she misses her husband and how tragic my father’s death was. Neither of which I’m interested in listening to again.
Little children find a way to run and frolic in the dirt between houses that were scrapped together with leftover materials from the homes of nobles and merchants.Ignorance is bliss.
With my two pails of water full, I walk back to our shack. As always, I’m forced to gaze up at Castle Orthani. The castle gleams with the moon hanging so low as to be a perfect, if ominous, backdrop. Maybe in another life I could have been so lucky as to be born a noble who walks those halls rather than trudge through the muck and grime of Lowtowns.
When I enter the shack, James sobs on his bed of straw.
My heart stops and I nearly drop the pails of water, but Mother moans, letting me know she’s still alive. I stagger over to the corner and place the pails down before I remember to breathe.
I’m sorry, Momma. I have to do this. For you, for James. You both need me more than I do.
I pull out a small wooden box, the last of my father’s belongings. I open the lid and take the two remaining sheets of paper, placing one off to the side. I rip the other in half since I have two letters to write.
Dear James,
I’m going away for a while. I’ll be sending money to you so you can take care of Mother. Don’t steal anything other than food. If you get caught with anything more than that, you’ll lose a hand, or worse. I need you home with Mother. She can’t take care of you if something happens to you. So be careful, and think of her first in everything you do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
I love you,
Diane
Now for the hard one.
I glance over my shoulder. My curtains hide me, but Mother’s words expose me worse than being naked in the street.Was she in a similar situation when she sold herself?I wipe the tears from my eyes after two stain the empty page. I dip the quill into the last of the ink and write my apology.
Dear Momma,
You told me not to, but I must. There’s nothing else for me to do. You’ve always had me hide my face to avoid that life, but it’s what I have. It’s all I have. I hope you’ll forgive me. Please know that this is not your fault. Fate hasn’t been kind to us, and I don’t think it’s going to start any time soon.
Your loving daughter,
Diana Blaze
Writing father’s last name as my own chokes me to the point I join James in his weeping. The shack fills with the pitiful noise of two crying for their dying mother who grunts and moans with each breath.
