|Fearless

Salvage|

Depression era, Virginia.

 

“It is only when normality is gone, that you realized how much you missed its presence.”

–        Sally Gardner, from the Red Necklace

The young maiden wasn’t surprise to find the boy flimsy. Of course, he would weight like that. Perhaps all of them here were that skinny and she couldn’t blame them. Not much of them here could provide themselves food. She and her family were lucky enough to have something to eat every day, since they had, a talented skill – if that would be the words for it.

                The wisps of bitter air started to wander the streets in this little county. The wind seemed like it clung on her bare shoulders. Night was coming while grasshoppers and lizards started to tick. The moon above had casted a milky blush unto the pavement while little stars accompanied it. Everything was dull and depressing. The lanes barely lit, and houses dark – their windows covered by curtains. It was a haunted town of misery and scarcity.

                She could see some destitute people were out on the streets – as always, with empty cans alongside of them, and opened palms drawn out, penniless. One man was pressed down against the wall by a flirtatious girl – a prostitute, purring at him like cat. A group of men were walking, cigarettes clipped between fingers – If not that, bottles of beers – and eyes, scavenging the area like a hungry wolf pack. Their faces carved the word ‘poverty’ and ‘neediness’.

                 She immediately knew what the group’s businesses were. Everyone’s matters here were to get money, and, just as she gazed at that group, she thought they were waiting for someone to be ravaged and robbed. She had recognized it quickly but it wasn’t because she was fond of reading ‘Sherlock Holmes’. It was, in fact, because she used to do it – to steal.

                Lillian ducked her head and passed them silently. The last thing on her mind tonight was for those men to raid her. If they were smart, then they should see the stuffed plastic bag she was carrying – Surely, there was something good in it for them. She just hoped they wouldn’t question her as to why she had a limping boy beside her.

                The left arm of the boy was dangling over her neck, and her right arm was on his waist, positioning him carefully so he won’t fall. It took her minutes to decide what the best posture was, mainly because she didn’t want to trip and him to fall.

                Yet they did. One of the men barred her way. The guy had a pudgy red face from drinking, and a clear bald head. He swayed and drank from the bottle again before pointing a plump finger on Lillian. “Oi, what’s in ya’ bag?” He had such stinking breath.

                Lillian backed down. “Nothing,” she replied as her glassy black eyes stared coldly at them.

                “You’re a pretty lady ain’t ya?” he asked and the group chuckled along, creeping away from the darkness, now standing beside the fat man.

                “I warn you,” she hissed. “Get out of my way,” her left hand grasped the knife in her pockets immediately.

                The man was now really in front of her, maybe twenty inches away. He was beginning to threaten her security. In this position, the faint light from the streetlamp glowered over the man’s face. Now, she saw his eyes were horrible. His pupil seemed as if it swirled with the white of his eye, whirling with a tint of grey and red streaks. Suddenly, he placed his heavy hand on her exposed shoulder.