One Day You'll See the J: 2009

So, here is the first little literary work I will share. I didn't know what to post first, but I have left this document open twice on the computer and people have read it and seemed to like it. This is pretty much all I have written, because I haven't gotten around to working on it. I have a whole lot of ideas about it, but this is the only part I have down.

So far it's untitled, but here's what I have so far:

Preface

Adrianne St. Clair clutched her niece’s hand disdainfully as they walked through the snow covered streets. The girl was just barely four years old, but Adrianne figured that she could pass her off as older if need be. The girl’s tiny hand trembled in Adrianne’s as the wind blew through their thin coats, which barely provided any protection against the bitter weather. The little girl was cold and hungry, but Adrianne didn’t have money to feed herself, much less her dead sister’s daughter.

The girl didn’t have a name at this time and place, for Adrianne didn’t find it was necessary to give her a name. Like a lost puppy that follows you as you walk down the street, the girl couldn’t get attached to her. She had dragged around the little girl since the day of her birth, and she was more than ready to be rid of the burden. Adrianne hadn’t asked for a child, for she didn’t want one. When her sister had died giving birth to some rich man’s illegitimate offspring, Adrianne had been too heartbroken to think about ever caring for the monster that killed her sister. But that’s what she had had to do, because Arabella’s dying wish had been for her precious daughter to be taken care of. Adrianne silently pleaded with Arabella’s ghost for forgiveness as she mulled over what she was going to do. She could practically hear Arabella’s voice berating her for disobeying her final order and giving up on her daughter. She tried to ignore it, because she knew that times were desperate and required desperate measures.

They approached a shady looking warehouse with thick, worn, wooden double doors. The building appeared to be deserted, but Adrianne shoved against the doors until they creaked open, shedding what seemed like decades of dormant dust into motion. The girl coughed as she inhaled the moats of particles hanging in the air. The sound was high-pitched and would’ve been absolutely heart-breaking to one whose heart hadn’t been frozen with time like Adrianne’s. Adrianne was too close to what she wanted to feel remorse for the thing that had ruined her life thus far. She could taste freedom from this fate on her tongue as they kept walking forward deeper into the abandoned building, and she wasn’t going to turn back now. Every now and then, the girl would look up as if wanting a reassuring glance from her guardian. Though she had never been given so much as a smile from Adrianne in her short life, she still held that hope in her subconscious mind like a natural instinct. She had never felt love, never heard the word in proper format, but somewhere deep inside the girl was the child that instinctively knew what love was and yearned for it. It was very deep inside, however—too deep to consciously access anymore. She had been neglected her whole life, and without realizing it, she had covered that part of herself in the need for self preservation.

Finally, after walking the expanse of a long, dark hallway only dimly lit by a window at the far end, the pair came to a stop. There was a door on the far left that contained what Adrianne needed; a way out. Resting her hand on the doorknob for a brief second, Adrianne took a breath to steady her self. Her conscience hadn’t bothered her in years, and it wasn’t about to make an appearance today. Nothing would thwart her from the task at hand. Nothing would make her feel guilty for the blasphemy she would resort to.

She pushed open the door, revealing an office behind it. Though the room was hardly luxury, it certainly was nice compared to the rest of the building. The ramshackle warehouse was practically deteriorating, but this room had clearly been partially refurbished. The paint on the wall was chipped and faded, but the desk in the middle of the room hinted at modern furnishing styles. The garnish on the wood still held some sheen, as one could see when the light that gleamed through the window on the far wall reflected off the smooth surface. The man behind the desk was even more out of place in the warehouse. Though his face appeared disheveled with his unshaven chin, his clothes were stylish and high-quality. The suit was clearly expensive and something that Adrianne could never afford even if she had wanted to buy one. This was a good sign; a rich man was what Adrianne needed.

Without looking up to acknowledge Adrianne’s presence, he inquired, “Buying or selling? Because, if you’re buying, the official auction’s tomorrow. You’ll have to wait for that.” Adrianne didn’t answer for a moment, and- in that time- the man looked up to take in her ragged appearance. He chuckled and continued without any prompt from Adrianne. “Guess I don’t have to ask though.”

Adrianne wasn’t affected by the remark. She sat in the chair across from the desk and responded to his first question, “Selling.” At her solemn tone of voice, he paused. He scrutinized her face for a moment before shaking off whatever errant thought had invaded his mind.

“Name?” He asked, taking a slim piece of paper out of one of the desk drawers and a pen out of a cup on the top of the desk.

“No name.” Adrianne responded quickly, letting go of the girl’s hand.

“No name?” He glanced methodically over the little girl’s dirt-covered face, tangled hair, and tattered clothes for a moment. “Isn’t she yours?” Adrianne shook her head quickly, trying to shirk any questions he might have that she wouldn’t want to answer.

“She was my sister’s, and, no, she doesn’t have a name.” The man pursed his lips and pondered to himself for a moment. Adrianne’s leg shook sporadically as she grew impatient with the empty silence. “Can we just get this over with?” She finally said, after a long tense quiet filled the room like a hazy fog, slowly suffocating its inhabitants.

The man grimaced, his voice growing louder as he spoke, “Look, Lady, if you’re given me stolen goods, I’m going to have to decline. What I do may be against morals, but I’m not doing anything illegal here. I do what I can to get by, so I can’t have my business shut down just for one item.” He finished, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.

“She’s not stolen. Quite the opposite actually—she was forced on me.” She glanced down at the girl, who was staring up at the man curiously, oblivious to what the adults were talking about. Adrianne sighed and returned the man’s gaze. “I’m not going to explain my whole situation to you. I’m just doing what I can to get by as well, sir.” She finished, placing her hands in her lap with a conclusive gesture. The man couldn’t help but notice her immaculate posture—the way she carried herself was that of higher class. His mind wandered to the possibilities behind the desperation of this mysterious woman. He thought she might have had money but had lost it all—not to gambling or theft like many others in this age, but because her successful jewel mining business went down the tubes as the particular color of the gem went out of style, or something flamboyant like that. After a moment of considering all the gaudy reasons this woman could be desperate, he picked up his pen again and scribbled something down on the thin paper slip.

Adrianne’s rhythmic leg shaking slowed as her anxiety ebbed. The man turned to the next question, “Age?”

This is what Adrianne had been dreading. There wasn’t much market for the really young ones, for there wasn’t much they could do. Outdoor work was practically out of the question, and some indoor work was excluded as well. Adrianne dared to round high, “Seven.”

The man raised one eyebrow incredulously. After Adrianne didn’t budge for a long moment, he wrote something down again. “Well, then, seven it is. Can she speak?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t speak much. She knows her place, though; she won’t be any trouble.” The man nodded and made a black check mark in a box on the sheet of paper. After scribbling down a few more things on the paper, the man handed the paper to Adrianne. Adrianne bent down towards the girl, and the man couldn’t help but notice how she flinched away from the woman’s approaching touch. She pinned the piece of paper to the girl’s shirt, not bothering to be gentle.

“Now’s the matter of price: If you take into consideration her age, her ability to speak, her size, and the current need in the market…” The man trailed off, rambling into talk of the “market” and figures. The little girl didn’t understand what the adults were arguing about or what she and that woman were doing in this dilapidated place that smelled like mildew. While waiting patiently for the woman to be done here and for them to leave, she looked at the tag that the woman had attached to her shirt. She stared intently at the squiggly marks written across the page but was unable to decipher their possible meaning. She didn’t know how to read. Maybe if she had, she could’ve prevented her fate. But she just sat there; staring at the paper like the markings would magically turn to letters which would turn to words which she would magically be able to read. But the little girl didn’t know what magic was, so she couldn’t call upon it at this time.

The girl looked back up at the man, studying his face. She didn’t know what he was doing for the woman she stayed with. She decided to listen more intently to their conversation to try to determine the purpose of their conversation.

“…not budging; that’s my final offer.” The man said, crossing his arms arrogantly as the subject of prices came to a close. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he felt the argument finishing in his favor. Adrianne frowned in frustration, contemplating the pros and cons of each offer. She could take the girl for a little while longer and try to find a better deal in another city, but she had already traveled to this city in search of this business. It had taken her weeks to track down one of the remaining trading businesses, and she didn’t anticipate having to locate another. Not only could the next trader be many miles away from this city, but there was no guarantee that she would get a better deal elsewhere. She couldn’t imagine having to lead this life another minute, much less another month.

With a shiver of fear at that thought, she muttered, “I’ll take it.” Under the man’s low-lying hat, the man’s brow lowered and his mouth curved into a pleased half smile. He had successfully played another desperate soul out of their money, something he was now an expert at. The lower he bought the product, the larger the profit of the sell was. After years of managing one of the last trading businesses, he had a very luxurious lifestyle. When morals raised and the business faltered, much of the trading industry disappeared. Now he had a monopoly of all the rich aristocrats who didn’t feel like paying long-term employees to do the work they believed was beneath their status. Ten years ago, barely out of his boyhood, the man might have thought these people were a disgrace to humanity. But now, however, he lived off the shallow society.

The man ducked behind his desk to the lowest drawer. There were five gold rings in a row on this drawer with numbers etched into the surface. He silently turn the rings until a five digit combination made the drawer pop open to reveal a silver safe built into the drawer. After turning the lock on the safe three times, the latch on the safe released and the man could pull the door up to reveal its contents. Adrianne caught a quick glance at the drawer, gulping to herself when she saw the piles of rolled cash stacked to the very brim of the voluminous silver box. She couldn’t even estimate the amount of money this man had, but she knew she had never seen that much money in one place before. Not even when she and her sister had lived with their parents modestly in the city had she seen that amount of money. How much could this one young man have? Thousands? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? She couldn’t even comprehend having that much money, though she sincerely desired it. All of the things she could have with that amount of money…

“Here you go, madam.” He took two small bills out of one of the many folds and placed them in Adrianne’s hand. She was dumbstruck for a moment. It broke her heart to fall from her day dream of millions of dollars to her reality; two bills in return for her sister’s daughter. The money was enough to pay for only a week of meals, but she also received her freedom from obligation with this trade. Adrianne was twenty-four years old and had no intention of wasting her young years on men or children like many women had when they were her age or even younger. Her sister had fallen for that life of family and love, and she wasn’t alive to enjoy the spoils of her sacrifice. Arabella had been smart and lovely. She could’ve gone to university to become a nurse or something classy along those lines. Instead, Arabella had wasted her god-given talents on a rich boyfriend in the big city who left her after he realized she was pregnant. Adrianne wouldn’t fall for that life. She had a future now. With two bills and the child taken off her hands, she was a completely free woman. With that realization, she jumped up from the chair she had been sitting in. For the first time in approximately five years, Adrianne St. Clair smiled—an ear to ear smile of a young a woman who had been imprisoned by fate for years and was high on the euphoria of being released.

Stretching her hand out towards the man, Adrianne exclaimed, “It was so nice to meet you, Mr…?” She trailed off into a question, inquiring upon the mysterious man’s name. He took her hand tentatively, also standing. He was confused as to her sudden change in attitude. In this business, he had never seen one so emotionally indecisive as this woman.
Shaking the outstretched hand, he looked into her eyes once more, admiring the blue-grey color that sparkled with a light he hadn’t seen before. He remembered to answer her question, “Roddick. Liam Roddick. And you, madam?”

“Adrianne Marie Adelina St. Clair.” She said with fervor, as if her whole name carried a new life in it that she had just recently discovered. Definitely high class. Liam thought to himself. Poor people aren’t named Adrianne Marie Adelina St. Clair.

At the sound of Adrianne’s full name, the little girl looked up. She had lost attention soon after she had begun listening again and dozed off, but now she was fully conscious. She looked up to her guardian’s face, mesmerized by the way her cheeks dimpled and her mouth curved up in a smile. The girl had never seen the woman smile before that moment; therefore she had never smiled herself. The girl listened to the way Adrianne said her name, en rapt in the smooth way it rolled off her tongue. Everything the woman had said in the girl’s presence before that moment had seemed sharper—like every word had an edge that would poke her and prod her until she was covered in holes. The girl hadn’t known Adrianne’s name because Adrianne had never told her. There was something so beautiful about this moment that the girl’s eyes became wet at the corners. She touched the moisture curiously, wondering what had hurt her. She had never cried without being hungry, cold, or hurt, which were all some sort of painful stimulus. Now, she had grown past the pain of hunger, the sting of cold, and the urge to faint under the woman’s powerful blows. She shouldn’t be crying when she was fine, but she was. She had never experienced so much joy as in the face of her guardian. Never before had she seen that, so even at that moment she didn’t recognize it.

Neither Adrianne nor Mr. Liam Roddick noticed the girl’s silent tears. Adrianne had let go of Liam’s hand, and began turning towards the door. He watched as she eagerly took hold of the handle of his office door and began to exit. He didn’t know why he wanted to stop her, to make her reconsider their deal, but he interrupted her frenzy to get away.

“By the way—she’ll be staying here tonight in the back of the warehouse. There are a couple others there.” Adrianne nodded curtly, as if Liam had stated the weather instead of the fate of human being. He tried one last time to stop her for a moment, “We’ll be taking them first thing tomorrow morning. The slave train leaves as soon as they board. First auction’s in Saulsville up north, I believe…” Adrianne’s mouth pressed into a tiny, thin line.

“And?” She asked impatiently, her hand twitching towards the door knob as if the two objects were opposite poles of a magnet.

“And…” he was about to continue, but saw that it was a lost cause. He realized that this woman, Adrianne Marie Adelina St. Clair, didn’t care what happened to this little girl. “Just thought you might want to know.” He finally finished, eyeing the close proximity between the door knob and her thin fingers as if challenging her to really finish what she had started. Adrianne’s face lit up with a bitter smile, and she closed the distance keeping her from touching the door. She opened the door, beginning the first step at the same time.

The girl noticed that the woman was leaving, and- as she had done her entire life- she got up to follow her. Following Adrianne was the only life she knew, which is why she began the short walk to the door as soon as the woman began to exit. Adrianne stopped suddenly, glaring back at the girl with a look so malicious that she sat back down on the seat as if she had been slapped and needed something to support her balance. Liam put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, creating a different emotion in each of three people present. Adrianne nodded in approval, thinking this gesture was a sign of his possession over her now. She saw the hand as a warning for the girl to stay where she was, and she marveled in the fact that the girl couldn’t follow her. The girl shuddered under the man’s touch, withdrawing from the contact as if it were venomous. To her, this gesture was a reprimand. She didn’t know what she had done wrong this time, but she immediately froze so she wouldn’t do anything else wrong. But the most innocent of all these interpretations was Liam’s.

Liam didn’t know what came over him when the woman glared like that at the child. To him, the gesture wasn’t that of possession or reprimand. He himself didn’t even know what it meant. All he knew was that it seemed like the right thing to do at the time, not that the sense of right and wrong had much influenced his actions up until this point. Adrianne however wasn't concerned with the other's interpretations with this simple gesture, and, with her blissful aura, left her niece in Liam Roddick’s office and didn’t turn back.

The tension in the room seemed to lighten considerably in the harsh woman’s absence. Liam removed his hand from the girl, no longer driven by that untraceable urge to protect her now that the threat was gone. He waited for a few uncomfortable seconds, figuring in his head what could be the right words to say. The children he had bought before had usually been part of a family—an extra product that came included with the real commodity. This child was all on her own, and therefore practically useless. Liam didn’t know where he would sell her or why he took her in the first place. All he knew was that there was something about this girl that made him want to help her. She was just so innocent and neglected. Everything about the nameless little girl embodied innocence; from her strawberry blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders in long messy disarrays to her gray-blue eyes which seemed to glaze over with fear and uncertainty.

He was observing her still when the situation finally began to click in the little girl’s mind. She didn't understand why she suddenly had this epiphany, and she tried very hard to remember a similar situation that would lead her to this conclusion. No matter what she could remember, she couldn't think of a time where her instincts had told her that the woman who had always been with her wouldn't be coming back. She couldn't fathom why the person who had always reliably been there wouldn't be there at this particular moment in time. There had been times before when they had separated of course—times when she would sit while the woman would find food or when the woman said she had a job to do that night. She didn't know if the different circumstances of this particular situation might have led her to this conclusion. Never had the woman left her with someone else, for instance. Normally, she would stay hidden in some tiny hiding space until the woman came back; sometimes with food, sometimes with money, but mostly empty handed. But this time, something inside the girl told her that she wouldn't be seeing the woman again anytime soon. She avoided the man's observing eyes as a tear slid down her cheek.

Liam sighed, not knowing what to do with his current predicament. Normally in a situation with children, he didn’t have to handle anything at all. All he would have to do is tell the parent or guardian to maintain their child, and they would. They knew that their survival depended on obedience, and he had very rarely dealt with any troublesome items. Liam was young and strong; he could deal with the rowdy male, determined to fight their way out of the system. But this? This was the rare occasion where Liam did not know what to do. He and his new wife did not have children, and he didn’t know if he intended on having any. If the current awkward tension between the tiny girl and him was any indication of his potential as a father figure, than he didn’t see much promise in that possibility. Still, something in him was reluctant to take the girl to the back of the warehouse as every other slave had gone.

Making a decision before he could persuade himself against it, Liam grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and walked in front of his desk. Shaking his head in disbelief, he spoke, "Let's go." He reached for the door and held it open until the little girl started walking towards him. He waited until they were both out the door and started walking towards the back of the warehouse. If the little girl knew what this had meant, she probably would have been afraid. If she had known that at the back of the warehouse Mr. Roddick stored the adult slaves until they were to be sold, she might have been terrified. Whenever her guardian had left her, she had made her hide somewhere where she wouldn't be found. She had never stayed with other adults before.

Liam kept walking, looking back every few seconds to make sure the girl was following him. What he knew and the girl did not was that they had bypassed the storage room a few minutes ago. He held open the next door for her, and she the cold wind stung her face as it rushed through into the protected area. He led her outside, to a very gaudy black car. The girl's eyes widened as she took in the vehicle. She had seen a few cars before but never one this glossy and pristine.

"Sorry. Couldn't exactly park this out front." He chuckled a little, but the girl did not laugh. She looked at the car for a moment more and back to her feet. He waited a few more moments as if anticipating a response. When he did not receive one, he continued. "Ok, then. Uh, I'll help you get in then."

The girl's head popped up, her eyes searching his face. He couldn't be serious, could he? He couldn't be taking her in his car... It would appear so, as he opened the side door. She stepped forward slowly, hesitantly. He put his hand out to help her up the step. She flinched away from the hand, not realizing its intent. Finally realizing that she didn't know what she was doing, he walked behind her and picked her up. She froze in his hands, unable to do anything in her shock. He put her in the backseat and buckled her in, making sure she was completely inside before closing the door. He walked around to the driver's side and started the car once he was inside.

The next few minutes was pure silence, the same tension always lingering between the two; a man who knew absolutely nothing about children and a girl who wasn't aware of the tension because she had lived her entire life immersed in apprehension and fear. Instead of obsessing over the strain between them like Liam was, the little girl was looking at the tag attached to her jacket, once again willing the characters to make some sense to her. Finally, after giving up on trying, she spoke for the first time in front of this man, "What is it?"

Liam did a double take as he realized she had spoken. He blinked a few times in shock, before he actually tried to figure out what she was asking. She was intently fixated on the tag, so he figured that must have been it. "You mean, what does it say?"

She nodded, but didn't take move her gaze from the words. "It just says a little about you; your name, you-"

"What?" She interrupted him before he could tell her the rest.

"Your name?" She nodded as he took on a sheepish grin. He hadn't told Ms. St. Clair that he had given the girl a name. "Well, you didn't have one, so I, um, kind of gave you one."

Her eyes widened, and she finally tore her stare away from the tag. She looked up at the man and waited for him to continue. When he didn't seem like he was going to speak anymore, she spoke again, "What is my name?" Her little high-pitched voice was quiet and slow, as if she were focusing on saying the right words.

He smiled a little, "Well, um, it's Violet. I don't know, it just seemed to fit. And I suppose since your aunt's last name is St. Clair, you're Violet St. Clair."

She stared forward now at the seat in front of her and sounded out the name, "Violet St. Clair..." Liam detected a hint of the fervor he had seen in Ms. Adrianne present in Violet's voice. If the reverence for the name was any indication, then she must have accepted the name he had given her. I named her? He thought. Great. My wife's going to kill me.

One Day You'll See the J

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