Monsters & Angels

The Crescent

Sorcha's head swiveled as she navigated the train station, struggling to decipher the signs. She hurried down several hallways and trudged back again when she wound up at dead ends. She finally ducked behind a post and brushed the hood of her cape off her face. If someone recognizes me, I'm sunk. Scanning the crowd, she backed up until her shoes bumped the edge of the platform and steam hissed around her ankles.

"May I help you, ma'am?"

Sorcha whirled toward the voice and flailed her arms for balance before the conductor hauled her onto The Crescent. "Thank you, I'm-oh golly, my ticket." She delved into her pockets.

"First, where's your bag?" The conductor followed Sorcha's finger pointing to her luggage.

"Got it!" Sorcha presented a creased document, printed with her new beginning.

"Miss Sor...hmm...Alden, cabin forty-two is this way. Good choice."

"Spent most of my savings on it." Sorcha followed her through the narrow passage and collapsed into a seat. Her grip on the armrest turned her fingernails dusky gray.

"You're anxious?"

"I am, a little." Try petrified.

"Well, relax. I'll make sure you enjoy the ride."

"Thank you..." She squinted at the conductor's nametag as The Crescent rolled out of the station. "Alexa." Since when do women work on trains?

Sorcha leaned her head back against the seat and let the pulse of the rails permeate her body. Hope this journey isn't a mistake, because there's no back-up plan. She watched small towns and fields zip past in the pre-dawn light and dozed off until bright sun forced her awake. Her legs wobbled when she stood to adjust her slate-blue skirt and white blouse. The graduation gift from her mother gave the illusion that she actually had a figure.

"Looks custom made." Alexa leaned in the compartment door.

"Bit loose. I forget to eat. No wonder men don't give me a second glance. Why can't I look like Greta Garbo?"

"Garbo probably wishes she had your hair." Alexa smirked. "Long waves with auburn highlights. We should all be so lucky."

"Please don't be offended, but how did you get your job?"

"I needed to hide this frizz." Alexa removed her hat to unleash unruly curls. "I really want to be the engineer. You know, drive the train. Only reason they let me work here at all is my Dad owns part of the railroad." The conductor offered her hand. "Alexa St. James. Think I'm about to mangle your name but, Sorka?"

"That's the true Gaelic pronunciation, but my Mum preferred Sor-sha."

Alexa nodded. "Got it."

Sorcha's lips twitched into a smile before she remembered to shake hands. "Sorry, I'm jittery around people."

Alexa slid the compartment door shut. "Not that there's anything wrong with it, but why are you traveling alone?"

"For a new job, as a nurse."

"Impressive."

"Salary's not."

"Never is for us girls." Alexa shook her head. "Where?"

Sorcha produced the official letter from her satchel and read the final line. "We are eagerly awaiting confirmation of your arrival. The Sisters of the Peace."

"Ah, New Orleans."

"Corner of Gravier and Magazine Streets. Sounds so exotic."

"Been there-" Alexa rubbed a smudge off the window. "I mean, to see friends. It's the best hospital in the city, but they have strict visiting hours."