Home Again

Whispers

Thomas Shelby Junior walked down the cobblestone street. His eager steps propelled him forward as his curious eyes surveyed the scene around and above him. With one hand he held tightly to his stick of hard candy and with the other, he held tightly to his little sister. Their small hands were interlaced as they made their way down the market path.

"Look, Thomas!" squealed Sophia. She had just spotted the baker's station, stacked and stuffed with warm sweets that were dipped in chocolate and special icing. "I want one, Tommy, please?" Her five-year-old eyes sparkled as they gazed up into his own.

"Soph, you know what mom said. We came here to buy milk and that's it. If she finds we got distracted, who knows the next time she'll let us come?"

Sophia was visibly disappointed but she was smart enough to comprehend the weight of their mission. She fixed her face into a grave, concentrated look and nodded to her brother.

"Here," he said, handing her his stick of candy, "take this." Her eyes lit up as she gasped and accepted her prize. But her moment of enjoyment was over when he sped down the path. She was pulled along and struggled to keep up.

It only took a few minutes for the children to fulfill their task. Thomas Junior held the milk bottle firmly as he led his sister by the hand out of the hustle and bustle of the teeming market.

The children were arrayed in innocence and clouded with distraction so they did not know. They did not know that a drunken man was stumbling out of a bar a few feet behind them, muttering Shelby curses under his breath. He trudged with a snarl on his lips, his eyes hidden under his cap. Despite his intoxication it only took him a few moments to recognize the Shelby kids, unmistakable with their brown skin and blue eyes. Their general appearances were common knowledge to the native townspeople since the children were allowed to go out unsupervised. The boy was seven, old enough to watch over himself and his sister for a few hours, and no one dared come close, with malicious intent, to Tommy Shelby's children.

The man paused, peering through his bloodshot eyes at the children. His fingers twitched and rummaged through his pockets, which were empty of the money he had been promised. He had expected a payoff and the Shelbys were taking too long to deliver. He couldn't wait any longer and neither could his bank payments. While rummaging through his pockets, he froze with a  microscopic shock. His fingers brushed over metal. His gun.

The synapses in his brain worked quickly, nearby police officers worked quicker, and yet, the bullet was the quickest.

The man was on the ground with his arm wrenched behind his back, a police stick choked against his neck, and a knee pressed against his back. There had been a gunshot and a subsequent bout including the coppers. There had been shouts, screams and other acts of chaos but now, in the smoke of the discharged gun, the whispers were the loudest.

"He shot a kid,"

"Oh mercy,"

"She's dead,"

"God on high,"

"He'll be hanged,"

"Not before the Shelbys get him,"

"She's just a baby,"

"Oh my God, oh my God,"

"Look at the poor boy,"

"Where's his mother?"

"Someone call his mother,"

Thomas Junior's tears filled the street. His lamenting caused so much stress to his small head that after some time, he passed out.

Just before they took her body away, Junior held his sister's hand. "I love you, Sophia," he whispered into her ear. Then he kissed her cheek. He was led away by family, the air was permeated with curses and gunshots but the little boy heard nor felt anything else for a very long time. 

~

Boy, what a sad chapter

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