Undersea

Chapter 11: Fish Town

Sarah's last five minutes in the big house on the wall nearly felt routine. She packed quickly and left what had been her opulent home carrying less then when she arrived. She still had grandma's picture and some clothes, but the book was now in Jack's hands. Her escorts (posted outside her door) would not let her go to him and in the end she spent most of her time scribbling him a letter. This she folded to a discreet size and handed off to Emmie for delivery when none were looking. "Come see me in Fish Town if you can, but be careful," she whispered to Emmie when they embraced, "their eyes may be on you now." Sarah choked. "It seems I am always saying goodbye to the people around me," she said louder. "I...I am so thankful for you Emmie."

After a final hug, Sarah lifted her pack and walked past the comfortable furnishing of her quarter, by the closets of clothes and many drawered compartments where much jewelry was stored, and out into the hall. She followed Claird and the other Mariner Patrolman down the grand staircase and over the rich carpets of the marbled Front Room. There was no one to wish her off as they walked through the bronzed front doors and past the tall columns of the front porch to the wide patio beneath the vaulting sky of stone. The light of the roundabout lamp shown bright and humming birds darted in the clear air amongst the trees that seemed forever in bloom. A vehicle waited to take her away.

She was walked to the vehicle and there Claird lingered with her while the other patrolman went back to the porch. Claird stood, indecisive on what he wanted to do.

Claird stuck out his hand, "well Sarah, good luck," he said and she shook it.

"Thank you Claird," she said with a sad smile, but he turned swiftly back to the house.

Sarah watched him go and then took one last look at the flawless appearance of the house and its environs. The patina of the place had worn off in her years living there; the colors, the light, the grandeur now seemed to her compliant in the concealment of Sir LaRosa's activities. The more perfect it looked the sicker it made her, for it seemed that the ensemble was not put together for the pure joy and delight of beautiful things, but rather to present a certain image that hid a purpose. "He will have his way in the end," thought Sarah as she climbed into the waiting vehicle, "and I hope I am far away when that happens."

"Fish Town please," said Sarah to the driver, a young Mariner Patrolman she had never seen before. There was a chortle from the front seat.

"Oh no young Sarah, I drop you off at the roundabout and you walk. No one cares where you go after that," he said, "orders are orders. But you shouldn't have a hard time finding Fish Town, just follow your nose!"

The vehicle wound down the switchbacks and passed the guard house. They sped by the meadows and down the boulevard lined with trees in silence and at the roundabout the vehicle stopped and Sarah got out. "Good thing I packed light," thought Sarah as she hefted her bag. The officer watched her go.

"Talk about going from the penthouse to the outhouse," he said just loud enough.

Sarah bit her lip hard. Bitterness. There it was again. Bitterness was a choice. "Oh help," she thought. She closed her eyes and not knowing how turned to the officer and gave him a brave, cheerful smile.

"Thank you for bringing me this far," she said.

The office balked and in a confused voice said, "Uh, you're...welcome?" He watched her leave. "By the way," he shouted after her, "the quickest way to Fish Town is taking a left at the road you just passed!"

Sarah waved and adjusted her course. She sang a song grandma taught her and in her poverty it brought a boost to her soul. "Why oh why," thought Sarah as she strode along, "do I forget to sing these songs when I have plenty?"