Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Baby

Esmeralda was playing with a baby when Malcolm came through the door. Malcolm had a plan for what he was going to say, and how he was going to say it. He just wished he was more confident about it. The chances were low. There was no way someone this beautiful would have gotten through life without dozens of men doing exactly what he was trying to do now. And he wanted her to choose him? The amount of time she spent on him the night before was the only reason he was here now. And yet, he could think of a million reasons she was talking to him, but actually despised him. Not one of them made any sense. 
When he saw the baby, Malcolm wondered whether this was a good or bad sign. A baby would scare a lot of guys off. Maybe she was just a bold woman who decided not to marry the father and that’s why she’s really here. Maybe she wasn’t as used to rejecting men as he thought. He wasn’t sure he could handle this. He had never… And as much as he wanted to be noble about it, the baby was frightening him pretty badly too. Was it too late to go back?
“Malcolm, hi. Can I do something for you?”
She seemed confused. He had just been standing there, hadn’t he? Damn, a new possibility sprung to his mind. What if she was just being friendly and she has a husband? Was she interested at all? Maybe there is some use in keeping up with gossip after all. A smile grew on his face, brought on only by his conscious effort to be pleasant, casual, and not a complete twit. “Hi! Whose is— who is this?” Malcolm sputtered out, nodding towards the baby.
“Oh! Don’t worry, he’s not mine. He belongs to Elga and Murgin. His name’s Ethan.” Wow. All of his explanations now seemed completely ridiculous. He knew that the Bergins’ recently had a baby. It hadn’t even occurred to him. “You want to hold him?”
No, I really don’t. “Ok. Yeah, sure.” He had her hostage now. Or, she had him hostage? He was already nervous enough coming here. The baby really wasn’t helping. 
“So, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see Mr Bergin about something.” (Crap, now I need to think of something to say to Mr Bergin) “But I’m not in any hurry or anything.”
“Murgin’s out of town right now. Maybe Elga can help you?”
“No, it can wait.” (Thank god.) The baby didn’t seem to like him, and chose now to start whining and squirming. Malcolm tried gently bouncing and patting the baby on the back. That’s what you do with babies, right? He casually glanced around, trying not to look worried. This place looked very different empty. And with the daylight coming in through the skylights. This was probably one of the nicest places in Penance. Skylights are fancy, and expensive. Were they difficult to clean? He looked back to the baby. Not helping. Ethan was about to start full-on crying, and he wasn’t sure he could deal with that. Just keep patting his back. It’ll work eventually, right?
”Do you want me to take Ethan back? You both look a bit fussy.”
“I love holding him, but you should probably take him. I’m sure you know how to calm him down better than I do.”
“Yeah, probably.” The way Esmeralda smiled, Malcolm suspected she didn’t believe him. Oh yes, he was being amazingly charming. All he needs to do now is trip over himself and fall on his face. Without a baby in his arms, at least he wouldn’t take anyone else down with him. Maybe he should have kept the baby. Dropping babies is a grand way to get to a woman’s heart.
He sat silently as Esmeralda took care of the baby. Was she feeling as awkward as he was? He shouldn’t have come today. He should have waited. They would have run into each other eventually.
“So, how are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“You’re not as talkative as yesterday.”
“Oh, sorry, let me take Ethan up to Elga and then we can talk.”
“Okay. But I didn’t mean that in a bad way, necessarily. Not that I don’t like you talking, I just—”
“I’ll be right back.”
While Malcolm was downstairs, contemplating how badly that went, Esmeralda was upstairs panicking about how much of a mess she was. She couldn’t point to what was so fascinating about him. He just was. And unbearably adorable too.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Cleaning up.

Esmeralda cringed when she came back inside. She had a lot of work to do. She sighed and picked up a chair back, figuring she should start right away. She looked around the room, as if it would give her the key to carpentry. Elga was standing in the doorway.
“I was just cleaning up after myself. I’ll have the place fixed up before long.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”
“No, I really should. And I want to!”
“I don’t think you understand. You really shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Do you know how?”
“Of course! I was the daughter… Never mind. You’re right. Murgin won’t be too mad, will he?”
Elga laughed. “I think he’d be surprised if a precious thing like you could stop a bar fight.”
Esmeralda gritted her teeth and did her best to ignore being called a ‘precious thing’. “Why did you let me run things then? On a Friday?”
“Well, frankly, I don’t know if I could stop a bar fight either. They don’t happen all that often, and Murgin needed to go out of town.”
“Sure. I’ll go upstairs then.”
“We can talk, if there’s anything you want to talk about.”
“I’m tired.”
“I just couldn’t stand if you went to bed upset. It really is fine that you didn’t stop the bar fight, you know.”
“You know I travelled here by myself, right?”
“I suppose I could have guessed that. Why?”
“I just want you to understand that I can handle myself, so you don’t need to take care of me.”
“I understand. Now, can we talk about something more pleasant before we head to bed? For me?”
“Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
“Humor me. Anything interesting happen at the bar tonight?”
“Not really. Spent most of the night talking to someone who wouldn’t even say anything back,” Esmeralda lamented.
“Oh? Who?”
“Malcolm Nessel.”
“Sweetie, it’s not you. He’s not a very talkative person.” 
“Did something happen to him?"
Elga laughed. “Oh no, nothing like that. He’s got a pretty normal life. He’s just always been a quiet boy. I think he’s just self-conscious.”
Esmeralda didn’t believe her. You don’t just end up self-conscious like that. Something had to have happened! But she had to put it aside. Malcolm clearly was trying to move past it, just like her. If someone tried to undo all her work, she’d never forgive them. It wouldn’t be fair to try to do that to someone else.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Malcolm, Part 2

This doesn't feel right to me. It's too... bare, or fast-paced perhaps? It feels like all the information to care about is there, it's just not presented well. Like it's speeding by so you can't get a good look. *sigh *
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“Malcolm? Am I boring you?”
“Sorry, I’m just not used to it. Talking. I don’t talk much to people. Especially new ones.”
Esmeralda grinned. “You’re talking to me though.”
“Yeah. Although really, you’re talking to me,” Malcolm pointed out.
“Then you should talk. Tell me something.”
“Like what?”
“What’s the most exciting thing in the world to you?”
At this moment, the only thing he could think of to say was, “You,” but he felt utterly ridiculous about it.
“I think I like when you talk better,” he decided.
“Ok, what should I talk about?”
“What's Fishery like?" 
Esmeralda put herself as having come from the Middle Ward, trying to fit in with where she would imagine a Bergin relative would be. It was difficult to explain because although Penance had some semblance of social ranking, it was not nearly as cleanly divided as it was in Fishery. 
So, first she told him about the Middle Ward, where business owners, and civil servicemen, like policemen lived. It was also where the maids and servants’ families lived. Esmeralda knew quite a bit about the Middle Ward because Sarah lived there. Of course, she couldn’t tell Malcolm about that. The Middle Ward wasn't as nice as the Upper Ward, where the aristocrats lived, but it was certainly livable. Most of Penance was like the middle ward, with a few parts, from what she's heard, that are like the lower ward. Although that was because the equivalent of the aristocrats here did not actually live in Penance, and there were far fewer of them.
She wouldn't be able to stand living in the Lower Ward, where the working class lived. It was damp and dirty. It was as close as you got to the swamps without leaving Fishery, and she'd often heard about how dangerous it could be there. She told him about how the all the fishing was in the Docks Ward, and you could do all the shopping at the Fish Markets. She actually went on about Fishery, including the differences of living there versus in Penance, for awhile. She hadn't really noticed how much she had to say about it all until she had started talking. She had so much to say that she forgot about the customers, who were now in the starting stages of a brawl. Esmeralda looked, considered, and pulled Malcolm outside.
“You don’t think we should try to stop the brawl?”
“No, no, it’s better this way. If they don’t get it out now, they’ll just go home angry. It’s perfectly fine.” In reality, she didn’t know how to stop a bar fight. She could discourage an individual pretty well with a stab of her dagger, but she didn’t know how to handle this. “Sorry for dragging you out here,” she offered, but he was smiling anyway. A small smile, but most definitely a smile. The sort of smile where his pretty eyes smiled with him. A pretty smile for a pretty face. A rather enchanting face, out here in the moonlight. It was all the moonlight’s fault, of course.
If he had been braver or cleverer at that moment, he would have made an adorably charming comment about how nice the company was, or made some sort of joke. “That’s okay.” 
She smiled back at him, and asked what made him smile. 
He blushed. "Oh, nothing. Well, anyway, thanks for everything. I should be going now." 
With that, he left. Esmeralda wished she could've gotten him to say more, but at least he did not seem upset. She shouldn’t have been so talkative. Maybe next time.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Malcolm


“Es, dear, would you mind handling the bar tonight? Tobin has a fever and I’d like to sit with him.”
“Where’s Murgin?”
“He’s out taking care of some important business. I know you weren’t supposed to, but I’d very much appreciate it.”
She was looking forward to a quiet night with a book she’d just bought. It was the first thing she’d gotten with her own money, that she’d earned herself. A partially fictional account of what the God King might’ve been like as a young man, a hundred or so years ago. Back in the old world, when he had to endure terrible persecution. In the book, he apparently had a sister. She wondered if it was true, and what happened to her. The author got to interview the God King several times for the book. Much of it is fictional, but some of it isn’t. Sadly, the God King would not say which parts were and weren’t true. He said it ruined the artistic integrity of the book to start teasing it apart in such a manner. She wanted to dig into it so badly, but it could wait until tomorrow. She couldn’t say no to the Bergins. “If you’re okay leaving me in charge of the bar for the busiest night of the week, I am up for it.”
“Thank you, Es. You’ll do just fine.”
As she waited for the rush, Esmeralda decided that she would not let this night bring her spirits down. She had been in a good mood that day, and she wasn’t about to let this night bring her down, even if it turned to mayhem. She was ready! She had boundless energy tonight, and she was ready to use it! It was going to be a wonderful night. She had decided.
The crowds came and demanded she give them the means to forget the week for awhile. As it became less hectic and the crowd began to settle in, Esmeralda noticed a young man about her age, sitting by himself, slowly sipping the beer she’d given him. She had seen him before, but never really noticed him. It was unfortunate if he wanted to be alone, because Esmeralda decided in that moment that he would be her entertainment for the night.
She bounced over to his table and beckoned for him, “Come sit at the bar!”
Unsure of how to take this, he waved her off and continued sipping his beer. Esmeralda, not one to be turned down, pulled at his shirt, and insisted that he keep her company at the bar. This, in turn, caused a good portion of his beer to spill. Esmeralda whipped out a rag and apologized as she began wiping.
“Why don’t you sit at the bar while I clean this up, and I’ll get you a new beer in just a second?” She smiled as if she’d been planning this the whole time, and the young man gave in.
Esmeralda more formally introduced herself as she gave him his new beer. When she asked him his name, he looked at her, almost suspiciously, but seemed to decide that this was not a terrible offense. His name was Malcolm Nessel. 
"Now, I may not be the best of company since I still do have to work and it’s a busy night, but it’s not too bad for a Friday and I’ll come back to chat as often as I can. So, how old are you? Are you still in school?" 
No, he just got out of school. He's 17. 
"Oh, what are you going to do now?" 
He fell silent again, so she changed the subject. She started to talk about other Penancians, like Brian Taylor, who seems to start arguments to win them when others tire of him. “I’m still not sure whether he’s incredibly insecure or cocky. Still he gets thrown out regularly. We don’t need non-customers (he’s never bought any drinks) antagonizing customers. But let’s not talk about him. We don’t need to ruin our evening.”
Malcolm said nothing. He simply stared at her, and let her continue to talk, still trying to figure out how he ended up over here. He smiled with what he hoped was encouragement. She was cute, but he wasn’t interested in the people that did and did not annoy her.
Esmeralda suddenly ran away to, as Malcolm saw when he turned around, convince a man who was climbing onto the tables to not do so.
“But… don’t you wanna see the show!?”
Esmeralda wanted to argue, but the cheering of those around her suggested that it’d be better to just leave well enough alone. “I’ll just take your glasses to be refilled, ok?”
“But how will I do my juggling routine?”
Esmeralda refrained from explaining to him that that was exactly the point. It was too bad. Sober, he was an excellent juggler. “You’re an entertainer, James! You’ll think of something marvelous.”
Esmeralda had barely put the glasses down before she was talking to Malcolm again, “That’s James Wellington. He’s quite a character. He—” Malcolm felt he should point out that he had grown up here, while she had only been here for maybe a couple months, but she didn’t seem to give him a chance to say anything. He was fascinated with her, though he couldn’t really say why. She always seemed like a nice enough girl (not to mention extraordinarily beautiful), but tonight she was intriguing, perhaps because she noticed him, or perhaps because she seemed so different from the other times he’d seen her around.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Esmeralda's Work

Back from a long, long vacation. Here's the next part of my first draft of a novel. :-)
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Esmeralda reveled in her new job. It was terribly dull, but it was normal. It was everyday. Not having to worry about siblings that had the whole Upper Ward up in arms, and a mother who did little more than pretend to care was just fine for her. Cleaning dishes, wiping down the floors reminded her of her father, telling her stories, pretending he had a book in his hand to read from. Why it made her think of that, she wasn’t entirely sure. It’s not as though she had ever had to do this sort of work. Perhaps it’s because pleasant times lead to pleasant memories.
Those times were all before she understood the rest of her family. Occasionally she would wonder if her father was like the rest of them. Maybe if she had known him long enough… But she couldn’t believe that. He was her chance at being a normal person. A decent person. If she wasn’t like him, then maybe she was like them after all. Or maybe sometimes children just aren’t like their parents. But no, she knew she was like him. Just like him, and nothing like her mother. And nothing like her siblings. 
Thinking about all this made her realize that she wouldn’t be able to visit his grave this year. At least she wouldn’t have to listen to her mother’s comments about it. Amber never understood why someone would want to do such a thing. Esmeralda loved her, but her mind, and her heart, seemed to work differently. Perhaps it was too broken, but her mother seemed to see no purpose in a good heart.
Her mother would have come up with a plan by now. But Esmeralda, despite her initial resolve, couldn’t even decide if she wanted to come up with a plan. She couldn’t bring herself to end her lovely day-to-day living with a plot of any sort. Thinking past tomorrow was just stressful. At this moment, her mind was firmly settled into the realm of ‘They will not ruin my life or get me killed. They’re not worth it,’ but it was hard to say how long that would last.
What was her mother up to now? With all her children out of Fishery, would she go after them? Or maybe she wanted them all gone. Knowing her mother, Esmeralda knew if she did want her kids gone, it wouldn’t be because it was easiest, but because she had things to do and this worked with her plans. But there was another possibility. She didn’t want them gone, but she didn’t come after them because she didn’t care. It was an annoying little thought that kept trying to push itself to the forefront. Besides, even if it were the case with her or Mary, with the amount of attention she gave Curtis, it was hard for her to believe that she would just let Curtis go. But then, by the time Esmeralda left, her mother didn’t seem interested in finding Curtis. She was annoyed, and frustrated, but not looking for him. Esmeralda had never seen her mother like that before. Was she letting him go, and sulking about it? It seemed so…unlike her. But then, that’s why Esmeralda came, isn’t it? To find her siblings, and bring them back. Whatever she thought of her family, she still had this picture in her head of them coming back together, of being a family again. She knew they were bad for her. They were bad for anyone. She hated herself for wanting to feel connected to them. Even without being there, they could always ruin her day. 
The feeling would pass. Every day, as she spent more time with the Bergins’, she spent less time thinking about them. Each day that went by was one more that there was no contact, where she could relax a little more. And consequently, the Bergins’ began trusting her more. She could have gone her entire life without hearing from any of them again, and she would have been fine. Esmeralda, for the first time in a very long time, was happy.