Fever

August 20th, 1793

Sixty-two people have died this week, though the city's people did not seem to care as you could still hear the cries of children, the horns of ships going back and forth from the dock.

I've asked mother if I could go to Emily's place, but she said no every time. It's not like she ever like Emily. A girl from a fisherman family who would sometimes work part time in the bakery and who was also my best friend.

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I worked my days as hard as I could, not so I could convince mom to let me go to Emily's house, but to also for my benefit. I would some day go to England and build bakery empires. Bringing back the finest fabric, combs and jewelry. I would live in my mother's childhood she once had. I would even own the whole block and mayb-- my day dreaming had been cut off by Mary, my mother's helper around the bakery.

She was a widow like my mother, her husband died from labor work as a slave. She had gathered enough money to by her freedom, and come to live in Philadelphia where no matter the skin color you were all was treated the same. She hadn't turned sour like mother did when we lost dad. She was as sweet as the apple pies I made.

"Have you eaten lunch yet?" she asked. "Cause I made oatmeal" a smile formed from her lips. "Yeah, sure" I was down I could think of was Emily. My face was as sour as my mother.

Mary gave me a wink and left the kitchen.

I took a spoon from one of the cupboards. I felt a lump of sugar at the bottom of the the plate. Now I was smiling ear to ear. I like sweet things, but didn't get to eat them because my mom thought it would make me sleep more or make me sick, and for some one like me who lived in a bakery it was hard to believe.

I ate up all the evidence of there being oatmeal or the lump of sugar at the bottom of my bowl.

The sound of the horns from ships reminded me of her. Maybe she was eyeing Sam, no doubt. And just like that my smile was gone.

I grabbed the nearest bucket, actually the only bucket. I went to the well to fill up the water. I was big enough to be ordered around like an unpaid servant. Big enough for mother to find me a husband.

I saw mother walking inside the bakery. Had she gone out? She was wet very wet and the only way you get wet in Philadelphia in the summer was going to the dock.

MOTHER HAD WENT TO THE DOCK! Mother never went to the dock, she always hired someone to do it for her for fish.

Mother seem to have changed her mind about going through the front door first. She came through the gardens gate.

"Where's Emily" I cried out as I already felt tears falling down my cheek. "You went to there house right?"

"I spoke with her mother........." she said softly as she look at the flower bed.

"And?" I asked.