Thursday, December 3, 2009

A job


Esmeralda woke up the next morning with the sudden realization that she would have to start looking for a job. It was a good run, but she couldn’t live much longer on the money she grabbed on the way out of Fishery. It was the only part of being upper class helpful for this journey. She peeked out of her room to see if anyone was around. She liked Mrs Bergin, but last night she came on a bit strong. Esmeralda didn't feel like talking right now. When she got to the bar, Mr Bergin was busily scrubbing down the floor with his kid (she assumed) on his hip, very much looking like he was trying not to look like he was waiting for her. 
“Mornin’.”
With all the people in here last night, it hadn’t occurred to Esmeralda just how large this place was. And the silence was... She could almost breathe it in. Sadly the smell had gotten worse, as the place was now covered in day old beer instead of fresh beer. “Good morning.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Good, but I need to talk to you about something.”
“What about?”
“It looks like I’ll be staying here long term. Or at least, longer than I had anticipated.” (Did I actually expect to reunite with them right away? Not to mention the lack of plan afterwards. Why am I so dumb?) “Do you know where I could find a job to tide me over?”
“As a matter of fact, it would be very helpful to have somebody do more of the menial tasks around here. Gives us more time with the kids and all. What do you think of that in exchange for room and board? The work’s a bit boring but it’s easy. What do you think? And we’ll throw in a bit of cash every once in a while, so you can have a little spending money.”
Esmeralda felt more like they were taking her in as a stray dog than an employee. However, she was not below taking such an offer. “Sounds perfect. When should I start?”
“Now, if you’re up for it. You can start by scrubbing the floor.”
She cringed reflexively, “Weren’t you already doing that?”
“Now I can move onto fixing the chairs that were broken last night.” 
“You do that yourself?”
“As opposed to?”
“There’s got to be someone you can hire to do it. Penance doesn’t have a carpenter?”
Murgin laughed, “Maybe if this happened once. We don’t have the money to pay for other people to keep fixing our furniture. Besides, I’m pretty good at it.”
“Then I’ll get started here.” Esmeralda glanced at the rag she was given with concern. She wasn’t prepared to become the help. Trying to show no hesitation, she dunked the rag into the bucket and then went to work on the floor.
“Esmeralda? You might want to ring that out over the bucket first.”
“Right, right, sorry.”
Esmeralda stared at the rag, and then at the floor. As much as she hated the idea of the task, she wanted to do it right. And she would be excited! All she had to do was imagine her excitement, and it would happen. Concentrate. Get it done, be happy with it. She needed to remember to do this more often. She always felt better if she got herself energized about something. Also why, she believed, everything always felt better after a good night of sleep. You need energy to be happy!
“Esmeralda, do you need something?”
“No! No, I’m good!”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I think so. Just to make sure, how do I, uh, dry the floor when I’m done?”
“You can just let it dry by itself.”
“Right, of course. I’ll be done in no time. What should I do afterwards?”
“Just do this, and then come see me.”
Okay, she could do that. “Of course, sir. Will do!”
Murgin had to admit, he could get used to being called sir. But he had never seen anyone so excited over cleaning the floor. “Esmeralda?”
“Yes?”
He wanted to mention her change in mood, but didn’t want to worry about possibly making her feel uncomfortable. Maybe she’ll do a better job this way. “Have you eaten yet?”
“No, sir.”
“Then your task is to eat when the food is ready.”
“And I’ll work on this in the meanwhile?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Ok, no problem, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“You are very welcome, young lady.” He smiled at her, and walked off. She was an odd one, but he liked her.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Gambini


Elga patted the bed, “Come over here and tell me about it.”
It was dripping with sympathy. Esmeralda was annoyed that she was expected to pour out her troubles on a first meeting. “I don’t think I really want to—”
“Sorry, it’s just me, trying to keep the conversation going. I don’t mean to pry, dear. I just was hoping to get a little background, that’s all! See if there’s anything I can do to help. No need to get into the little bitty personal details.”
Esmeralda kept it as simple as she could. Her siblings ran away, her mom got sad, and she came to look for them. Elga just hugged her and waited. Esmeralda let it happen, unsure what she could do besides push her away, which seemed cold. She considered what she could say when Elga pulled away from the hug, and wondered why the woman smelled like peppermint. When Elga did pull away, Esmeralda was left feeling confused and a bit invaded, but thanked her for the hug anyway.
They sat for awhile before she spoke again, “So, I’ll be heading back once I find them."
“I can help you.”
“I don’t think…”
Elga sat straight up and patted Esmeralda on the back, “No! I insist! We have a great number of connections, and we may as well put them to use.”
“You don’t know who I am. You don’t know if I’m telling the truth, you don’t know if I’m in any way a decent person.”
“I can feel these things.”
She couldn’t tell whether she was being played, or Elga was just incredibly naive. “You wouldn’t want to help me if you knew who they are. I don’t like them much myself.”
“You are not your family. And being worried about them regardless of what they’ve done shows a good person. I won’t judge you based on them, I promise.”
“I guess I might as well. I already mentioned their names to your husband. Curtis and Mary. Both redheads.”
“Oh. Oh, you don’t want to be involved.”
After all that poking and prodding, and ‘you’re so good for being worried’? She wasn’t going to let Elga shut up now. “Maybe not, but if you know where they are, you have to at least tell me.”
Elga looked away, “I don’t know if you…”
“You don’t know me at all! Tell me where they are.”
Elga strained, trying to decide if the fact that this girl deserved the information outweighed the fact that none of it was good news. She came to the conclusion that the child was persistent enough that she’d find out eventually. Why make her go through all that extra effort? “They’re working for the Gambinis.”
Esmeralda closed her eyes and sighed, groaning internally. Oh, wonderful. “Hmm… Can I get a room from you?”
“Absolutely no problem, dear. How long will you be staying?”
“I don’t know. I guess until I find them.”
"Are you sure? You won’t be safe if you get involved with what they're doing."
What exactly were they doing? She didn't actually know much about Gambini. She'd heard the name before, and she often heard about people dying and gossip around it being caused by Gambini family. Of course, not too long ago, Penance was like that for her too. Then again, it was understood even to the this woman, who trusts so readily, that the Gambinis were not people you wanted to get involved with. 
"Yes. Yes, I need to find them. How did you and Murgin find out they're with the Gambinis? Are you sure?" 
She said they had come here with the Gambini son, Marco. 
"Why?" 
"To conduct some sort of business, I assume. We wanted to stay out of it. He introduced us to them, almost as a notification that these were his people. I think they're in too deep for you to get them out, sweetie, and we can’t help you with this." 
Esmeralda closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She felt like her whole body was moving but realized it was only her heartbeat. She was stuck. There was no win for her. She should be used to this by now. Story of her life, as they say. “Goodnight then.” 
“Wait, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it more?”
“Talk about what?”
Elga knew she should let it be, but she couldn’t. “How you feel, maybe more detail about what happened?”
“No, not really.”
“You need to. You can’t let it eat you up inside.”
“Maybe later. Can you just leave me alone for now?”
“Sorry, yes, of course.  I’ll just get you a room.”

Friday, November 20, 2009

Meeting Elga

So, I kinda suck at this experiment. But I'm working on it. Here's what I had intended to post yesterday.
-----------------------------------------

Esmeralda ducked into the closest exit, which was a door leading upstairs. She hoped this wasn’t a private area. The noise of the bar was still present, but had faded to a muffled background noise, for which Esmeralda was grateful. She pulled down her hood, and walked lightly upstairs.
“Hi!” came an ebullient voice suddenly, nearly knocking Esmeralda down the stairs. “You know, you don’t have to sneak up.”
Esmeralda slid her hand to her hip, ready to pull her dagger. “Just felt a bit awkward. And trying to get away from, “ Esmeralda nodded at the brawling sounds. The woman smiled and nodded her acknowledgement. “Does this happen a lot?”
She shrugged, “Once or twice a month. Come up, come up.”
Esmeralda stared at her for a moment, not sure what to think of this lady, “Um, I’m fine here, thank you.”
 “Dear, there’s no need to sit on an uncomfortable old staircase. I just wouldn’t feel right leaving you here when you’re so clearly shaken.”
Esmeralda opened her mouth to argue, but decided against it in the end. 
At the top of the stairs was a tidy little desk with two lanterns on it. A large window let the moonlight in by the desk. There was another window at the end of the longer of two hallways, and she could see light pouring out beneath a few of the doors. It smelled like wood and the night air. It was a crisp air, or at least crisper than Fishery ever got. Letting the dry air flow into her nose, Esmeralda could almost taste the leaves of fall. It was extra refreshing after the stuffy, stagnant air of the bar. 
The woman put out the lanterns as she beckoned for Esmeralda to follow. She was lean, though she had a round, not quite chubby face. As she moved, she gave the impression that her body has and will always be moving, not so much for the sake of moving as the need to be busy and productive. Esmeralda wondered if someone had planted the soul of a squirrel with the enthusiasm of a puppy into the woman. 
 They walked into the shorter hall where Ms Squirrel unlocked one of the rooms, and invited Esmeralda to please be comfortable as she lit a lantern and closed the door. The entered a relatively plain bedroom, although it did not feel like it was meticulously laid out to be that way like the downstairs was. Messier than she’d expected. The bed was unmade, the floor was not even fully picked up. One thing she could say for the room, was that despite the mess, it smelled lovely. And she could see why. There was a bowl of dried flowers on each nightstand. Still, Esmeralda was surprised Ms Squirrel would let her in here. Grabbing the closest chair, she decided it was probably best not to get “Ms Squirrel” stuck in her head as this woman’s name.
“Thank you for the hospitality, but, umm, who are you?”
“Oh, goodness! I apologize. Introductions, yes. I’m Elga Bergin. And you are?”
“Esmeralda, um…” New name, or real name? “Hill. Esmeralda Hill.” She twitched a bit, but she felt there was no good reason to be lying about that. Besides, it might be easiest to explain if she was looking for her siblings, assuming they kept their names post-Fishery. “What should I call you? Mrs. Bergin or Elga?”
“Elga, please. And I’ll call you Esmeralda?”
“Okay.”
“Wonderful! At least for now. Hopefully, as we get to know each other we can give you an appropriate nickname. Perhaps ‘Es’ or ‘Mer’. No one deserves to be saddled with a four syllable name.”
Esmeralda shuffled a bit in her seat. ‘As we get to know each other? Does she think I’m taking up residence in Penance?’
“I’m not planning to stay in Penance for very long.”
“Yes, sorry, sometimes I get ahead of myself. But I assume you wanted to stay at least until Murgin kicked all the brawlers out?”
“Murgin was the bartender? I talked to him a bit, but then the fight broke out. We never really introduced ourselves to each other.”
“Oh yes, Murgin Bergin. He’s also my husband and owner of this establishment. Speaking of the fight, where are you from, and what are you doing here? Travelers aren’t usually bothered by bar fights.”
Esmeralda took a moment to think over how to say this without getting kicked out. Having already mentioned her siblings to her husband, outright lying was not a feasible option. “Fishery, and I’m worried my brother and sister are in trouble.”

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Day Nine - Bergin's Inn


The tavern, Bergin’s Inn, was different than the others Esmeralda had been frequenting. True, it was still loud and just the smell alone was intoxicating, but there was also a warmth about it. It was dusted, cobwebs were cleared away, and the wood was a soft, comforting burnt orange, almost the same color as her hair, under the glow of the lanterns, which looked to be painstakingly placed to give off the perfect amount of light. Somebody clearly put a lot of time and thought into setting it up. It wasn’t gorgeous. It had a feel of a place designed to be dull, unremarkable. If there weren’t so many drunkards, it might be a nice place to sit and think. 
From the number of people, and the average level of inebriation in the room, she suspected it was the end of the week. Unless Penancians are just alcoholics, which was a distinct possibility. Perhaps she should have been keeping track of the days. 
Esmeralda made her way through all the merriment to the bar, feeling the night’s nectar, already starting to get sticky, against her shoes. The barkeep didn’t seem to be any more enthralled with the festivities of the night than she was. He was preoccupied with organizing everything behind the bar. “What’ll you have?”
She leaned in, hoping that she could drown out the raucous sounds of a busy inn with her thoughts and a conversation. She wasn’t hopeful. “I’m looking for some information, please,” she shouted.
“Sure thing.” He shuffled a few bottles around before realizing that ‘some information’ was, in fact, not a drink. “Sorry, long day. What can I do for you?”
Esmeralda was finally in Penance. If she couldn’t find anything out here she didn’t know what she would do next. Maybe she’d give up, but where would she go then? No, this is where they said they were going. She heard Mary tell Curtis that. And Mary was never one to hide. 
Esmeralda lowered her hood and took a deep breath. She just needed to start talking and get it out. He probably wouldn’t know anything, but she’d find that out soon enough. “I’m looking for a couple of teenagers,” she began, practically yelling to make sure he heard her over the noise while holding up two fingers. If she’d thought of a gesture for teenagers, she would have used it, but she made up for that lack of overcompensation by overemphasizing the nouns. She didn’t want to have to say anything twice. ”A boy named Curtis, and a girl named Mary, both with red hair.” (Stroking her hair) “Last time I saw her, the girl’s hair was a bit past her shoul—”
“Who are you?”
“What?”
“You’re not dressed to be a guard, and spies are usually a bit more subtle than that. Why do you want to know about them?”
Esmeralda could feel her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. Shit. She knew something like this might happen, but what exactly were they involved in now? They were going to get her arrested or killed. She tried to concentrate on breathing normally and keeping her voice from shaking, “They’re already in trouble? How much could they have done?” She knew she had taken far too long in traveling here.
“I honestly don’t know if you’re playing dumb or not, but I’ll say this—”
They were interrupted by unintelligible yelling and a chair being thrown across the room. The barkeep sighed and went to take care of it. He could certainly look intimidating when he wanted to. Esmeralda, as always, was not interested in being present for a bar fight. To think that she thought it was too loud before it started.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Day Eight



And so it went, going from town to town, learning how to defend herself and discovering what it really meant to live on her own. Despite having to give herself the daily encouragement, Esmeralda was surprised to find herself actually making it through. As long as she avoided trouble and kept her dagger handy for when it found her, she didn’t seem have any problems. She didn’t have to use it terribly much. Looking like she knew what she was doing was enough most of the time. Not an easy task for a less than confident girl from a rich family. Esmeralda figured that as long as she could make it through the first few stumblings of the trip, the rest would work itself out. 
She practiced in the taverns, hoping that slowly, she’d feel better about all of it. She’d have made sure the guards were there in case anything went wrong, but for the moment she was ignoring the existence of guards. She still felt a natural inclination to respect authority, but had not resolved that particular internal crisis. And anyway, the practicing just involved sitting down with a drink, pretending like she wasn’t out of place and she did this all the time. She really wanted more feedback than ‘Nobody tried anything with me.’ She suspected that it was good for her anyway. ‘Just remember,’ she told herself, ‘that I have a dagger, and I can use it if necessary.’ She never felt she really got the ‘Don’t mess with me’ vibe down, but she did start to feel comfortable. After the incident, her heart would be racing, and she’d be vigilantly watching every individual she came across, wondering if one of them might want to hurt her. Now she could sit back, sipping her beer slowly as the night went on. It was even relaxing.
Soon she started taking on personas as she thought of them, although her favorite was the mysterious stranger type with a deep dark secret. Not her actual secret of course. A secret that would say that she’s been around, seen things, gotten into trouble. A secret that would make her pull the cloak over her head such that her face was bathed in shadow, pretending to ignore everyone while being attentive to make sure “that person” didn’t come to get her. Or maybe she was running from the law! Who knows? That’s the point of the mysterious stranger. It allowed her to entertain herself, and do nothing else, besides enjoy her beer—well, enjoy was too strong a word. Tolerated. She chose beer because it seemed least likely to make her stick out. She was getting used to it, slowly (both the beer and the world). 
The only people who insisted on bothering her were drunks or unusually creepy men. With drunkards, it was easy to push their interest on to someone else, generally in a way that would cause fights she could sneak out of. With creepy men, she had no problem putting a dagger in their thighs. She certainly wasn’t going to be at the end of a strange alley by herself with no protection. She was alone while she was in a room she paid for, and on the path to Penance, but that was only during the day. Sometimes the villages were just too far apart for that, but there were always at least outposts for the guards. She tried passing one by; she ended up sleeping the day away once she got to a village, after nearly collapsing on the road. She was never going to do that again. 
Slowly the towns became less sketchy and more welcoming, and it was the path that worried her. The path through the swamp was more heavily guarded, because of the wild natives. Once she was out of the swamp, it was her and the wild animals. The breeze was welcoming at the day’s warmest, but quickly became too chilly and crisp for her taste. The forest was so much colder than what she’d been used to. There was also the new sounds. Particularly the relaxing rustling of the wind through the trees. It was an entirely new world, being in a forest. Fishery didn’t contain much in the way of trees, and certainly not this majestic. It was stunning, and if she wouldn’t get so lonely, she might consider staying out here after learning a bit more about it. She wrapped herself in her cloak as tightly as she was able, and continued, trying to go a bit faster now. It was starting to hit sunset before she found shelter. Either the outposts were getting further apart, or she was slowly plodding along. She was worried soon she would not be able to find any before she needed sleep. 
She tried to distract herself with better, happy thoughts. When she had been thinking about how close Penance must be (a thought she had been having regularly for the last week or two, having lost track of how far along she was, and determined it wasn’t important enough to ask someone), Esmeralda looked up and learned that it was night. She noticed the sun was starting to set, but she could have sworn she had more time. She looked for lights to tell her a village or outpost was coming soon, but the path curved, and the trees were too dense to see what was ahead of her. 
She tried not to worry (an outpost couldn’t be that far away), but it wasn’t long before she heard a howl. She kept her dagger ready, but she wasn’t confident that her knifing skills could take down a pack of wolves. Wolves weren’t a big problem for the caravans, were they? Maybe the path wasn’t in their territory. Isn’t that how wolves work? Maybe? Esmeralda regretted not paying attention in school whenever they talked about nature. She moved toward the side of the road as she walked, in case she suddenly needed to climb a tree. Eventually her paranoia got the best of her and she started to sprint. It didn’t last very long. She caught her breath and settled for walking really quickly, hoping to see lights soon. It took forever (fifteen minutes) before she saw any lights, and she started running.
She had completely exhausted herself by the time she got to the village, falling asleep as soon as she got herself a room. She considered staying for a day or two to relax in a nice, locked room, but in the end decided that she wanted to get to Penance and stop traveling. In truth, she was not in as much danger as she suspected. Not only do many animals tend to avoid people, the ones that don’t would not go anywhere near Esmeralda. People don’t have the sense to tell these things, but anything in the woods knows not to approach anything like her. 
Esmeralda kept moving until she finally reached a gate to a big city that could have only been Penance. She knew it wasn’t as big as Fishery, but Fishery felt like ages ago. Now, she was here, and there was this grand wall that disappeared into the trees (she was glad when she got out of swamps and into real forests), with a small river running alongside it. Past the gate she could see a full tavern, and looking down the streets, she could see all the wonderful shops that were closed for the night. It was exquisite. She had missed being in a big city. The voices of her schoolmates telling stories about the dangerous Penancians echoed in the back of her mind, but that was a different time, when nothing bad had ever happened to her. Nothing dangerous, at least. Perhaps because she lived in the Upper Ward, perhaps because people knew who her siblings were and thought they might protect her. But she still patted her dagger for her own comfort as she went through the gates of Penance, and put up the hood of her cloak on the way into the popular tavern.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Day Seven


As Esmeralda’s consciousness crept back, she lied staring up at the stars for a few moments. It was incredibly relaxing. She felt so happy, staring up at at those little lights in the night sky. The longer she stared, the more it seemed like they were dancing. Not the exciting, thrilling sort of dance, but a gentle dance, where they really weren’t moving at all. She could feel their stillness. And every twinkle went straight to her heart. She was content. More content than ever before. The stars were shining brightly, while everything else was dark. Why was everything else dark? Esmeralda snapped fully back when she looked to see where she was, and what took place earlier that evening flooded her memories.  She jumped to her feet, and ran back to her room at the inn, passing a trio of guards playing cards.
Taking stock of herself, she wasn’t badly injured. Her hands and knee were scraped, and she was frazzled, but she felt fine otherwise. Her clothes were a bit dirty, but only ripped where she had scraped her knee. She had all her clothes. It seemed unlikely that her clothes would still be on if he’d done to her what she’d been expecting. I mean, he wouldn’t put them back on, right? They would at least be mussed up. Then again, it also seemed implausible that she’d still be alive. She already saw he didn’t mind killing. She checked her pouch, and she had all her money too.
It didn’t make any sense. She had fainted. You can’t get any more defenseless than that. He was in a position to take whatever he wanted from her. Why did it seem like he hadn’t done anything to her? Maybe someone scared him off. Someone that would have gone through the trouble of scaring off an attacker, but not help the woman being attacked? Why would she wake up exactly as she was when she fainted? Maybe the less-than-stealthy assassin suddenly had something more important to do. She had the fleeting thought that she might have been hallucinating, but it was not a thought she could entertain. She couldn’t even begin to guess where to go, or what to do next if she was going crazy. Maybe she should just consider herself lucky and not worry about why she was okay now. 
Once she had calmed down, she remembered the guards and marched out to where they were playing.
“A man attacked me tonight!”
Not one of them looked up from their cards.
“Are you going to do anything?”
The guard closest to her sighed, put down his cards, and looked her in the eye. He looked like a soldier, maybe even a captain, with his big ugly square face, and his dark rough beard. She took a few steps back, startled (having an unhappy guard stare you down will do that). He asked her if the man was a native.  Esmeralda was puzzled by this question, but answered, “No…”
“Then it isn’t our job. Our job is to stop smugglers, protect cargo, and keep out the savage natives, which if you ask me, is all of them, but the empire considers some more civilized than others.”
“But he—”
“Not. My. Problem. Look, we’re off duty as it is. We’re all tired, and we don’t want to be doing somebody else’s job. All we want to do is cards, and then bed.”
“Whose job is it?”
He shrugged and went back to playing cards. Esmeralda hated the swamp. She dragged herself back to her room, locked the door, and tried to sleep. It was impossible. The more she tried to get comfortable, the less it worked, and the longer she stayed awake, the harder it was to stop thinking about the events of the night, and to stop her imagination from running wild with ideas of what could happen to her if she did fall asleep. All she could think about was that man, who was either still out there, or never existed in the first place. Why wouldn’t the guards help her? None of the explanations she could come up with made her any more safe, or less alone. She stayed in bed until she had enough energy to move on the next morning. She wasn’t sure if she had slept at all. (She had, if only for short periods here and there.)
She considered going back to Fishery. She didn’t like her family, but she could finish her last year of school, get an apprenticeship and never concern herself with her family again. Perhaps she could take her time and find some sort of caravan on their way to Capitol. She heard that’s a wonderful place to live. She thought on this as she procured a knife (which was actually a dagger) and a cloak for herself, useful for whatever she chose, since she would have to spend at least one more night in the swamps. But confronted with the decision, she began moving forward to Penance. She was certainly not going to let this get the best of her. She absolutely was not going to let her mom know she’d failed at the one thing she took the initiative to do herself.
She did, however, need to be less careless. She had no idea how to take care of herself, that was obvious. She cursed herself for believing that the fear and worry she felt was all in her head. But she could do this. She just had to concentrate, be confident, and practice. Upon her arrival in the next village, which for the life of her, she could not tell apart from the first two, Esmeralda wasted no time in getting to a room where she could practice using her new knife.
Out, in, out, in. The first step was getting it out of its sheath quickly, without hurting herself and most importantly, without dropping it. Gripping objects should be a basic human function, something you get the hang of as a toddler, so she found it amazing how easy it was to fumble the blade. Sometimes after arming herself particularly quickly, Esmeralda would reward herself with a few swishes. Over the next few days, it was more of the same, slowly progressing towards practicing slicing and stabbing the bedframe, which was beat up enough that a few extra notches didn’t change its look.