Ellie DeWitt Bukater: Part II

Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Ellie

"I feel like I need to give you a disclosure before we walk in there."

Tommy hesitated as we stood at the entrance of our new home. It was a five story brick tenement building, recently built about five years ago or so according to Tommy. Sarah had warned me of how bad tenements were, and told me of a law that was passed about ten years ago that called for improvements in these buildings, requiring indoor plumbing, proper ventilation, outward facing windows, and fire codes up to standard. Since this was considered a new law tenement, I hoped conditions were not as horrible as she described. Landlords weren't always amicable toward following new regulations, especially if they were costly.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," I said, almost as if I was convincing myself.

"My accommodations on Titanic were better."

"As they should be, she was the finest in the world before everything happened."

"Yeah, well don't say I didn't warn ya," he sighed, "It's only temporary."

"Take me inside already," I nudged him. He nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the door to let me in. The main floor, a common area, was just clear, open space with a concrete floor and baby blue walls, no front desk or anything. I was startled for a brief moment when I realized there were a handful of people staggered across the room, propping themselves up against the walls fast asleep. I could only assume they were homeless. It was so dark, you could easily stumble over one of them if you weren't paying attention.

"We're up on the fourth floor," Tommy said quietly, taking my hand tightly, "Just follow me."

Walking briskly past the scattered group of sleepers, Tommy brought me to a wooden set of stairs which began in the corner of the room. Trash and empty liquor bottles had accumulated on the stairs, but there was less of it the further up you went.

"No elevators?" I teased.

"Sorry, lass."

"Well having to carry groceries up these stairs is just unacceptable. I can't bear it."

"Just remember, you chose this life," he looked down at me with that smirk of his, "You got that ring on your finger now, too late to turn back."

"You could have showed me the place before you proposed."

"And have you say no? I had to trap ya when I could."

I giggled as we made it to the fourth floor. To my relief, there were no sleeping bodies in the hall. It was very dimly lit, the hall floors were the same hardwood as the stairs, topped with a red, green and gold runner with a floral design. It certainly had seen its fair share of some wear and tear. The walls were coated with matching red paint, which was beginning to chip a bit from lack of upkeep.

"You know, I'm surprised they let you move in here already." we walked a feet doors down and stopped in front of an apartment embellished with the number 417 on the door.

"The faster I'm here, the easier it is for me to get to work," he said, working on unlocking the door, "The mill is only a few blocks from here. If I'm here, no excuse to show up late or not at all. Incentive to get people to work, especially people like me."

"Does everyone who lives here work at the mill?"

"No, not everyone. They own apartments in a number of buildings in the area, I guess. Contracts with building developers and what not," he shrugged as the door lock clicked open. He slid the door open, extending his arm out, "After you."

"Thank you," I turned my nose up in a snobbish manner, making him snicker.

A small, empty apartment greeted me, lit by candlelight. It was all tongue and groove hardwood. The room we were standing in was covered with red, floral wallpaper and had a white fireplace. An open door to the left led you to the kitchen, painted mint green. It was quite small, the whole apartment was smaller than the dining room in the townhome in Philadelphia I grew up in.