Rebuilt

Chapter 28

     Weeks had past.  The days became monotonous.  I would sleep, heavily and for long periods of time.  Oscar would gently wake me up, but only to eat and practice reading and writing.

     On the days where I would be awake for more than one hour at a time, Oscar would slip out of the house to go to Newsies Square . During those times I was under a strict no moving policy.  According to Oscar, there were bulls combing every inch of lower Manhattan.  The higher up into the city you went status wise, there were less and less. They wouldn't of finding someone like me in a place like Oscar's mothers luxurious town house. 

     I found myself looking forward to when Oscar would return. He would slip into the ally side window and always brought with him goodies. Pastries from the bakery down the road, or clothes from a boutique.  He was just as excited to give them to me as I was to be reviving them.

I heard the wooden window creak open. Swinging myself out off the couch in the formal room, I hurried into what was considered my room. Oscar's head was sticking through the window as he pushed it open fully with his shoulder. He smiled at me.

"Help me out here, will you?" He swung his legs over the bed that was under the window, careful to keep his shoes from touching the delicate sheets.  Coming in with him was three large bags all overflowing with fluffed up tissue paper.

     Nodding, I met Oscar on the bed and grabbed the bags from him. "More goodies?" I asked with a smile.

     "Well, you can't wear the same thing forever," Oscar sat down on the bed and started opening one of the bags.  He tossed the tissue paper over the floor of the bedroom and pulled out a folded piece of clothing. After unfolding it and shaking it out he smiled proudly. "Do you like it?"

     It was a delicate yellow pleated skirt along with a simple long sleeve collared white shirt.  In the other bag had the same design of skirts just in different colors as well as thick winter leggings.  In the final bag, boots of all colors and shapes. Knee high, ankle high, loafers and beyond. 

     All of this for me?

     "Oscar it's going to take a long time for me to pay you back, why didn't you just get me one outfit ?" I  said.

     His face fell, "you don't like it?"

     I became flustered, "No! I like it a lot.". I looked over all the clothes, enough to last me seemingly a life time.  "It's just a lot," I paused again. "It's overwhelming."

    He smiled gently and stood, laying all the skirts on top of one another and moving them into a drawer opposite side of the room. "Well," he said coming back for the leggings, "I think this is a rather good thing to be overwhelmed about."

     He was right, he usually was correct.

Oscar heaved himself off the bed, "alright missy, go clean up then get change into some of those new clothes. Sound good?"

I nodded, thanking him I took off into the bathroom and started a warm bath. Oscar frowned upon me bathing before showering, though ever since I'd been released from refuge I've avoided showering purely out of self-respect.

There were rarely ever women in the refuge. Though the women who were there had at least been granted some privacy and separated from the men. Except for myself. Sorting at the refuge worked like a class system. Young children were all in the same block. Though once you hit 12 you were separated by severity of crimes. There was no gender separation in that department.

The guards would spit on us as we would walk by to bathe. Guards would undress us, watch us bathe, then escort us back to where we would get reclothed into the same garments.

     So, Oscar would have to bite his tongue and deal with me bathing.

     After a lengthy bath, I dried myself off and returned to my bedroom.  Dressing into the pleated yellow skirt and white tee, I assess the state of the bedroom.  Tissue paper and padding covered the floor of my room.  I sighed as I began to clean up the mess.

     The skirt was easy to move in, though one thing about it is that it feels very....

     "Short," Oscar breathed from behind me.  "That skirt is very...uh...short.  I suppose I should have asked your size."  He exhaled from behind me. 

     I blanched, covering my backside I turned around to face Oscar.  The tops of his checks were flushed red, and even though my rear was now facing the wall, he was still staring right where it had been.