Humble Beginnings

Delaware

New Castle was a pretty town. It looked very fresh and new; the houses were freshly painted and the edges were sharp. The people bustled about with purpose as they had everywhere else he had been previously. There was, however, a division in the people there. Some seemed fresh-faced, new to the town and not quite familiar. The others seemed guarded and cautious, almost afraid of the others.

Alfred, however, didn't notice any of this. He was too busy trying not to retch onto the dock. A soothing had appeared suddenly, rubbing his back.

"Hey, hey. It's going to be alright. Just breathe. In and out. Like that. Good."

Finally, when the last vestiges of nausea faded, he turned to look at whomever had decided to have pity on him. It was a young woman. She had long black hair that was tied in a knot at the nape of her neck and was covered by a large hat. Her eyes were a soft and welcoming brown, set in a round and welcoming face. She was wearing a long red dress that looked very expensive, and fine white gloves.

"Who are you?" he croaked, after taking her in.

"... Sarah Fawcett. Who are you?"

"Alfred Kirkland."

"Well, Mr. Kirkland. What are you doing all alone on the dock?"

"I was horribly sea sick."

She cracked a smile, and didn't seem to notice his avoidance of the question. Instead, she offered him her hand to help him up. Alfred didn't take it, it would be a shame to ruin her gloves with his dirty hands.

Once he was standing, she took him by his elbow and led him deeper into the city. They ended up by a very nice house that stood imperiously next to its neighbors.

Sarah paused by the door. "This is my husband's house. He's a magistrate for the crown." She looked down at Alfred and smiled. "Come inside. I'll have one of the slaves run up a wash for you and set a small supper."

Alfred smiled at her kindness, "Thank you Mrs. Fawcett."

She nodded and turned toward the interior of the house, "Christina!" she shouted, "We have a guest. Show him to the bath."

"Ja frun!" came a voice from somewhere in the house.

"English, Christina! You know what happens if you speak Swedish or Dutch!"

"Yes ma'am." came the same voice, closer, yet quieter than before.

An 8 year old girl came out of the hallway. When Alfred saw her he was surprised. She was very tall for her age and had ragged blond hair that fell over a regal face. She was wearing a coarse shift and a apron that both seemed in need of a good darning. She looked at him with a cool disinterest.

"Come with. The bathroom is this way." That said she turned on her heel and led Alfred through the house to a room in the back.

"Wait, you're a slave?"

"Ja. sit here while I fill the bowl."

"But you're white."

"So? I'm Dutch-Swedish. The English don't care what you look like, only if you're in their way or not."

"Oh. I don't think so. Eng--Arthur isn't very power hungry."

She snorted, "Maakt niet uit wat je denkt. Du är engelska, de kommer förstås inte att störa dig. Here, wash up."

Alfred took the proffered bar of soap and began to scrub at his hands and face furiously. Once his hands and face were clean Christina led him back to Sarah, who was sitting in the drawing room. She looked up when Alfred stepped in and smiled at him.