Sell Some Lives

♿

I woke up in a gold bedroom, in a small high tubular iron bed. I tried to get up, but I couldn't move my legs or arms a centimeter. It was like even my face was trapped in a block of ice now.

I gave up and glared up at the chandelier on the high ceiling. A giant golden glowing globe, like neanderthal glitter — pyrite, (fool's gold) mixed with deep red ochre. I'd used it once when I first experimented with make up in the coal mines. I'd looked like a coal miner clown, with my face sooty grey and my eyes and lips smeared reddish brown. I never tried to wear makeup ever again because as soon as I saw myself in the lake reflection, I felt sick.

I felt sick now, mostly due to fear, but also because I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. 

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in!" I managed to call.

Someone walked in. I couldn't move my head to see properly. I just hoped it wasn't Jaquet.

I felt the person coming right up by the side of the bed, leaning over me. All I saw was boobs for a moment. Perfect circles spilling over the top of a champagne pink tea dress. The fat of those boobs oozed out from the sides as well. I could see her nipples through the transparent material. They were squished together and looked big and squeezable. I wanted to suck them, bury my face in them, suffoca- 

I blinked at my thoughts, swivelling my eyes away from her impressive chest and shaking my head.

"Are you feeling better now? Papa said I shouldn't disturb you but I wanted to see my new stepmommy and I must say..." She leaned closer to my ear. I felt her warm breath on my cheek. She looked so beautiful up close, with her candescent chartreuse chrysoprases, like green apples with multiple long thin stalks, at the top, darkened with lead mascara. 

"I must say you are quite a diamond of the first water." She murmured right in my ear, giving it a little nibble.

I didn't know what that meant and I was too lost for words to do anything except gasp.

She pulled away and sat by my footboard, cross-legged, putting three huge volumes of books on her lap.

"Here, I thought I'd give you some of my books so you can occupy your time resting. This one is called Grimm's Fairy Tales, and it's my best book because the stories are so weird. I could read to you if you are too tired to. Now these two are best sellers, although not my cup of tea. The History of Sandford and Merton by Thomas Day and Ragged Dick by Horatio Alger, Junior. Ragged Dick is not a dirty story as you might imagine. Father wouldn't have let me buy it if it was. It's about a fourteen-year-old boy who smokes, drinks, and sleeps on the streets – but he is anxious "to turn over a new leaf, and try to grow up 'spectable". And he does eventually with aids by rich gentlemen in expensive suits. It's supposed to be a very moral story. I wish I could be bad like old dick..." She said.

"I drink and smoke sometimes... I could teach you." I said, trying hard to sit up even though it was impossible. 

"Have you got cigarettes now?" She asked eagerly.

"Yes it's in my pocket..  but I can't move." I said.

She sat up again and leaned right over me so that she was almost lying on me. I blushed painfully and looked away as she felt me up and down, searching for my pockets.

Eventually she produced my Goodwin & Company cancer sticks and the matchsticks. 

I told her how to light one and then how to draw in the smoke so she doesn't cough.

She coughed anyway, her face turning bright red.

"...i- it's not very nice. Uh... OK let's go on with the story." She said and spat on the ciggarette to light it out.

"Which one first? How about Ragged Dick? It might teach us to quit smoking... I'm already considering." She said frowning slightly. 

She opened up the book and started reading in her clear upper class accent.

" "WAyyyy-KE up therrre, youngsir," said a rough voice.

  Ragged Dick oh-pen-ed his eyes slow-ly, and staaared stew-pidly in the face of the speaker, but did not aфfer to get up.

  "Wayy-ke up, you young va-gay-bond!" said the man im-patient-ly; "I suppose you'd lay there all day, if I had not called you."

  "What time is it?" asked Dick.

  "Seven o'clock."

  "Seven o'clock! I oughter've been up an hour ago. I know what 'twas made me so precious sleepy. I went to the Old Bowery last night, and didn't turn in till past twelve — how naughty! Papa would kill me if I went alone anywhere. I have to take my governess with me even though I'm fifteen! How old are you, Tali? I mean Mère."

"I'm fourteen... you can call me Tali. I'm not your mother." I said thoughtfully. 

Hopefully I could escape before Jaquet even started talking about marriage again. 

"Nearly old enough!" 

"For what?" 

"For... this story. It's not for children you know. Listen to this — 'You went to the Old Bowery? Where'd you get your money?" asked the man, who was a porter in the employ of a firm doing business on Spruce Street. "Made it by shines, in course. My guardian don't allow me no money for theatres, so I have to earn it."

  "Some boys get it easier than that," said the porter significantly.

  "You don't catch me stealin', if that's what you mean," said Dick. 

 "Don't you ever steal, then?"

  "No, and I wouldn't. Lots of boys does it, but I wouldn't."

  "Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I believe there's some good in you, Dick, after all."

  "Oh, I'm a rough customer!" said Dick. "...But I wouldn't steal. It's mean."

  "I'm glad you think so, Dick," and the rough voice sounded gentler than at first. "Have you got any money to buy your breakfast?"

  "No, but I'll soon get some."

While this conversation had been going on, Dick had got up. His bedchamber had been a wooden box half full of straw, on which the young bootblack had reposed his weary limbs, and slept as soundly as if it had been a bed of down...  you know what you're sleeping on is full of straw. The mattress and that. Every bed in the house except mine. Mine has cotton which is much comfier and expensive. You could spend the night in my bed one day if you're very uncomfortable here with Dad. His hands are always wandering in his sleep. I have to sleep right on the edge when I do sleep with him. But you'll probably like being touched- I mean... since you two are fiancé's. Where did you meet?" She rambled.

"In an underground slave hole." I said.

She stared at me for a second and then chuckled.

"You're funnyy. I like you."

"Me too. What's your name?"

"Édeline-Eloïse de la Ethelstan. It means noble choice. I'm supposed to always always always make good choices... even though don't want to."

"You don't have to... I always make mistakes. But I'm fine still. That's what life is about."

I liked the way her jade eyes sparkled when I said this. I liked seeing her happy.

"Let's make an awesome mistake now! Come on, I'll go get grandpa's invalid chair!" She jumped up and flew out of the room.

I stared up at the ceiling again — smiling.