by J. Naomi Ay
"What are you doing?" I said when the boy loosened his grip from my hand. He hurried back toward the Father, his eyes ablaze with the wicked silver light.
"Help me child," the Father wept.
Senya stood above the Father illuminating him with the light from his eyes. He held out his small fist and then opening his hand, he dropped something. The Father's body erupted in flames.
"Senya!" I screamed as the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed the room. The boy turned back to me and ran to my side. A moment later we were outside in the bitter cold, stepping upon drifts of snow that turned the night as light as day. There were no busses that ran in these hours so all we could do was walk, my own boots soaking through in short order and Senya tripping awkwardly in the garments far too large for his small body. We walked none the less and when the morning came, the snow still fell, but we were so far away that I felt safe enough to sit upon the steps of a building for a few moments to catch my breath.
"Do you think they will come after us?" I asked the boy.
"No," the boy responded and I was surprised as this was the first word that he had spoken. A man came up the steps just then and looked upon us with disdain. He spat in the snow.
"Are ye here to rent the room?" He said.
I was struck dumb. I looked helplessly at the man.
"Aye," Senya replied.
"Well come on then," the man said and together we followed him into the building. We went up three floors, and he opened a door to a small flat with a kitchen, a toilet and a sitting room. There was an old couch with tears and stuffing coming from it, a chair and small table in the kitchen and a bathtub that was filthy and would need a good scrubbing.
"Have ye got some coins?" the man asked and I held out my hand with the three coins. "Three months ye get fer these," he said. "Then I'll expect ‘nother at the start of each month. Dun't be late, or I'll toss the both of ye out on the street."
"Thank you sir," I said. He looked at Senya for a moment and spat on my floor.
"Fucked a Karut, did ye? Spose that's all that would want a lass as ugly as ye." He shut the door behind him.
"We've got a flat," I gasped and collapsed on the sofa. "We're free, Senya!" The boy walked the length of the small room holding out his hand.
"It's warm in here!" I cried joyously. Senya disappeared into the kitchen. "But we have nothing to eat and I have no more money." Senya returned and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" I jumped up and smothered him in my arms. "Don't leave me."
"I'll get ye some food," he said in the Mishnese of the street. I was shocked because he spoke and at the song of his voice. He pulled away from me and left me alone standing there. I watched him go from the window of my flat. His eyes were hard and narrow, thin slits of sliver light. His face was set with a frown, and I thought myself a cruel woman to send this poor child out into the street in search of food because I was too stupid to hold onto my coin. I knew what I must do now to retrieve a coin and make more. It is what I was good at or so I had been told. I marched down the stair and to the flat where the name on the door says 'Manager'. I knocked, and the man opened it to see me standing there.
"What do ye want," he sneered as if he knew full and well.
“I need a coin to buy food,” I said.
"Yer an ugly Karut lover," he replied but his door cracked open a few inches more.
"You won't be disappointed," I said. "If you are, you don't have to give me the coin." He smiled and his teeth were yellow, and several were missing.
"Alright then," he agreed. "Deals a deal."
When Senya returned with his pockets full of coins, I had already set out fresh bread and soup. There was milk for him to drink, but I had not enough money for butter and eggs. He sat and drank the soup, and I asked where his coins came from.
"You didn't get them the same way I did?" I asked fearfully. He shook his head and then showed me with his finger how he could make the coins lift from the table and dance and fly.
"You're magical Senya," I said. "The Saint has blessed you."
He shook his head again, and his eyes flickered.
"Tis a curse." He left me to go sleep in the bathtub wrapped in the Father's fur cloak.
I was pleased because I was warm and my belly was full and for the first time in my life, I had a home that was all my own and a child who was nearly my own to love and care for. But I was fearful, too. Senya spoke and though his words were sparse it was clear he was not of small brain but one who has seen and heard far more than his years. He lived with me for perhaps two years more sleeping in the bathtub wrapped in the fur cloak during the winter and on a blanket in the summer. He disappeared during the day or whenever I had a Chester to service, and then he returned at odd hours during the night, sometimes with scratches and bruises, sometimes with blood on his hands. Over time, his absences grew longer and longer until perhaps once a week or less, he returned to sleep in the bathtub. By the time the guardsman came looking for him, he did not stay with me at all. I saw him rarely, and that was only when I baked, and he would come looking for sweet treats or buns.
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