Once Upon a Time in Fantasyland

Chapter 7: Phanny Hot Potato

"Whoa, Amelia. Wait a damn minute." Wilder uncrossed his arms and moved away from the wall. "You can't just decide that on your own."

"Well, what's the problem? She's going north. You're going north. Why not just go together?" Amelia turned innocent eyes towards Wilder.

"Clearly," he said, "she doesn't have a clue where she's going. She only said north because you're pressuring her."

"Look, Wilder, I don't see the issue either." Burns stepped forward, too. "You've got money enough, and a good, dependable horse. Why not take the lass along a little of the way?"

Wilder clenched his jaw. "I travel alone, Burns."

"What a piss-poor excuse," mumbled Burns, almost to himself. "At least I've got practicalities to consider."

"You want to talk about being practical? Have you seen this girl? It'd be like travelling with a toddler." At Wilder's words, the room fell quiet.

Phanny looked down. Now, that one, shot an arrow straight to her heart. And she thought she and Wilder were starting to become friends. She thought she was starting to become friends with everyone. But here they were, trying to pass her around like a hot potato. 

For the first time since sitting down to supper, it dawned on her that she was among strangers. She was farther away from these people than she was from her stepmother. It was a plain fact. It shouldn't have cut her even deeper, but it did.

"That's exactly why you should take her," said Amelia. "A young girl can't possibly travel any great distance alone. She'll need some caring for."

"I'm not a child." The words were quiet, but sharp. Sharper than Phanny intended.

"I know you mean well, Amelia," she pushed on, still looking down. "But I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, my dear girl," Amelia took Phanny's face in her hands, the warmth of a rough hand on her cheeks reminding Phanny so much of her mama that she had to wince from the sudden flash of pain. "I just simply won't be easy in my mind, knowing you've got no one to look after you."

Phanny fought back the surge of tears. She couldn't cry now. It would just be another humiliation heaped on top of a whole mountain of it. The thing was, she wanted her own people. And she wanted to believe, in that moment, that Amelia was one of them. But how could she be when they only met that afternoon?

The truth of the matter was, this evening might have created the illusion of family, but Phanny was still all alone in the world.

"I'll be fine." She assured Amelia, her voice sounding so steady that she convinced even herself.

"Like hell, you'd be." Wilder muttered.

Phanny's eyes snapped up to his in a glare. What was this jerk's game?

"Pardon?" She said through clenched teeth.

"You don't even have shoes," was his response. "And look at this," he nudged his boot against Phanny's book of fairytales.

Earlier, she had fussed over the thing. Looking it over for any severe damages and placing it by the fire to dry. She had let it stand up on its spine, with the pages fanning out at an angle, facing the fire. 

Now, the terrible black boot let it fall back on the wood floor with a soft thud.

"You're running away, and this is what you bring?" In his defense, Wilder didn't know how close he was to waking the dangerous temper that had been in a deep, years-long slumber within Phanny. He was merely stating what he believed to be an objective assessment of the girl's chances of surviving on her own.