The Last Corvus (completed)

Ch. 29 Meg-Elaine

Chapter 29

Meg-Elaine

I wander for what feels like forever, occasionally in circles, until I find myself close to our pawnshop. I shrug and head towards it, even though I have nothing to bargain (I realize I've dropped my shoes somewhere along the way, so I don't even have those). I have Toby's and my weapons, but I'd do anything not to part with the last I have of him and my family.

Opening the door, I'm assailed by the familiar scent of old leather and window cleaner, the soft chatter of families browsing. Wow, business must be booming, it's crowded in here.

I walk over to the counter and lean against the ancient register. The customer that I just cut, a tiny woman holding the diamond pendant we got off a vamp, stares at me, annoyed.

Right now I couldn't care less.

"Hello, Jean Paul. I see business is booming. That's nice." I try to keep the subject light, afraid I might lose it If I don't.

He finally notices me and I give him a feeble smile. He returns mine with a brilliant (if gap-toothed) smile of his own and quickly finishes checking out for necklace lady. He comes around the counter, dusting his hands on his pants. "Well, hello, Elaine. How have you been since... yesterday?"

He always calls me that, Elaine, even though he knows there's a hyphened Meg in front. Wait, it was really only yesterday, wasn't it?

I stare at him mutely and he continues, "where is that boy? Your... brother, is he? I've grown rather fond of him."

I'm about to correct his use of the present tense when I uncontrollably burst out in tears. I've grown 'rather fond of him' too.

He looks at me, shocked. "Oh dear, is it something I said?" He looks around and notices the customers closest to us gaping at me. Terrified of having customers see a crying girl in his store, he leaves me leaning against the counter before ushering everyone out and locking the door behind them. "Come. You seem in need of some nice, hot tea."

I don't argue as he leads me down a hallway behind the register and up the stairs to a small apartment. Showing me to the small kitchen table, he pulls out a seat and then pushes it back in once I sit. Who would have thought someone who ran a (slightly) crooked pawnshop would be such a gentleman?

He tells me to tell him what happened that caused me to burst out crying in the middle of his shop while he starts the water for tea. So I do.

His face shifts between surprise, revulsion, sadness (and some other emotion that made his face an unidentifiable green-gray color) as I tell him everything, including my self-exile from the team.

When I finish he takes a moment to digest everything, staring blankly at the open cabinet, in the same position he was when I told him of Toby's death, hand still half-reaching for the box of teabags.

"Well, uh.........you've certainly had a busy night."

And the award for 'understatement of the year' goes to...

He hands me my mug and I sip slowly, letting the peppermint waft up my nose and wake me up; after all, I've gotten maybe four or five hours of sleep these last few days.

He rummages through the cabinets some more and places a half-empty box of cookies before me. I practically inhale them, not even letting the chocolate chips start to melt, and finish off my tea. "You have the appetite of my daughter. Oh, speaking of her, I'm sure I could find some of her old clothes if you wanted a shower. You two seem about the same size."

Two thoughts run through my mind simultaneously; the first being: he has a daughter? I had no idea, but as I sneak a peek around the kitchen I can pick up a few girly touches (curtains that, although small, have a flower print, a few dainty vases on top of the fridge). The second: a shower? I haven't had a shower since... I was back home. Usually if we really need to bathe we would either wait until it rains or go to the nearest river.

Nodding eagerly as he walks away, I can't wait to get out of my Toby-stained clothes. And just like that, all misery from the past few days is momentarily erased due to the mention of hygiene by hot water.

I hear a muffled crash, followed by swearing and footsteps coming back down the hall. He appears, slightly limping, and answers my stare with only, "stupid Christmas decorations." Ah.

He heaves a large box onto the table in front of me, blowing the top off and causing a cloud of dust to slowly settle on the table, gathering in the empty cookie box. Good thing I'd finished eating. He looks for a pair of scissors and doesn't find any. I wave him back before he gets in a tissy and grab one of Toby's daggers (luckily not the one smeared with his blood), zipping it across the packing tape seal.

The first thing I pull out is... he can't be serious... a silky lace top. A PINK silky lace top. With sequins around the bottom. Swallowing my revulsion, I pick up the next item, a pair of skinny jeans. Well, at least those are minutely practical (even if I wouldn't be able to wear my sword at the same time).

The next few things aren't much better than the top; a thin, dark purple cashmere sweater with matching scarf, a white sequined tank top, and (puke!) two jean miniskirts, one neon green and the other deep orange. WHY?! After a pushup bra (miraculously the right size) and a pair of black and red checkerboard tights, I finally reach the bottom of the box.

Pay dirt! After all that useless stuff I behold a miracle. Only using my fingertips, I pick it up gingerly, afraid it might not be real. I pull it towards me... and keep pulling. How long is it? The bottom finally brushes the floor and I try to not swoon as I hold it against me. I can't believe it! I finally found my dream coat; a body-length, deep blue, thick, hooded trench coat!