Cogling

by Jordan Elizabeth

  A wooden spoon rapped the chair nearby, making her jump.

  “Get back to work,” a cook snapped. “You dillydally, then you don’t eat.”

  Harrison tried to blink. Wait, had he blinked? His eyes felt swollen and dry. The corners stung. Could he move his eyelids anymore?

  The hag with the cane hobbled past his seat and he turned to see what had caught her attention. Another hag strode in with a little girl at her side. Younger than Harrison, the girl wore a brown cape and fish scales clung to her boots.

  “Where am I?” Tears drenched her cheeks. Odds bobs, tears. If only he could still weep.

  “Dream yourself free, my dear,” the hag cackled. Dark kohl rimmed her silver eyes. Could she be the one who’d brought Harrison to the factory?

  He tried to scream at the little girl not to trust them, but his tongue had become a lump. Shimmers poured off the newcomer to tangle in the daydream catcher net above. She would turn as gray as he was.

  How long before he couldn’t dream?

  The customer laughed, displaying rotten teeth, as Edna spilled gin across his table. Working as a maid had never been so difficult. After three hours, it felt as if she’d worked there for weeks. Her body longed for a break. Even combing Lady Rachel’s hair would have been preferable.

  She hadn’t discovered any other exits, and when she’d whispered her plight to customers, they’d waved her away. The only plan remained with the ladder. The customers hadn’t been able to help her gather more information about the hags, either. That question earned her widened eyes, hissed breath, and scowls.

  Edna’s stomach rumbled and her hands shook, not only from fear, but also from fatigue. A headache gnawed the corners of her temples. Each step made her forehead throb. When she tried to steal a sip of water from a bucket in the kitchen, one of the cooks slapped her knuckles with a spoon.

  “You eat at the end of the day, same as everybody.”

  Smoke stung her eyes. When she closed them to inhale a calming breath, something soft touched her hand. Edna gasped, choked on her breath, and blinked at Ike. Winking, he swept past into the crowd. Ducking near the crimson wall, she studied what he’d given her—a napkin with writing. As she unfolded the linen, Edna wondered how he’d gotten the black ink. It rubbed off on her fingers and gloves: coal from the kitchen. She wiped her hand on her robe.

  Spill on your clothes and get sent to the dorms.

  At last, a plan. Maybe. Edna stuffed the napkin into her shirt, pivoting her head to make sure no one looked her way. Other workers laughed with customers in the den of smoke. Perhaps this type of life was preferable for them, but not for her, not when Harrison needed her. Holding her breath, Edna dumped her jug of gin down her dress. The cold liquid drenched her skin and splashed across the floor. She bit her lower lip to keep from cringing.

  “Hey, gal, you all right?” a man called over.

  “I’m fine.” Holding the jug close, she scurried to the kitchen and poked Augusta’s arm. “Excuse me. I can’t continue out there looking like this.”

  Augusta turned from the stove where she’d been checking a stew to grab Edna’s shoulder. “How’d you get so soaked?”

  Edna averted her eyes, cheeks flushed beneath the scrutiny. “I tripped over a leg. I spilled and—”

  The slap came so fast she didn’t see it. Her head reeled, cheek stinging.

  “I don’t keep you to be clumsy and wasteful.” Augusta yanked the jug away. “That boy did the same thing earlier. I shouldn’t have bought the two of you. No good klutzes, the pair. Where is that lad? He’ll show you where the spare clothes are kept. Ah, there he is. Boy.” She waved Ike over. “This girl’s as clumsy as you. Take her to the dorms to change, and be quick.” Augusta shoved Edna toward him. Her soaked dress sloshed, rivulets of gin dripping down her legs.

  “Sure.” Ike smiled at the woman, showing his teeth, and narrowed his eyes at Edna. “Come on. We have to get back to work.”

  Augusta’s gaze burned Edna’s back as Ike led her through a door near the pantry, revealing a staircase. Ike shut the door behind her, extinguishing their light.

  “We need a lamp.” Edna rubbed her throbbing cheek. “I keep tasting blood.”

  “I found windows at the top. Let your eyes adjust for now.” Ike squeezed her hand. “Does it hurt too much?”

  She extracted her hand. “I’m fine.” She could survive a slap. She wouldn’t be weak while Harrison suffered.

  “We’re going to climb through the windows using the ladder.”

  “The windows will be nailed shut or painted over, like in the workhouses. Augusta won’t want people escaping.” She followed him up the creaking steps. Her skirt clung to her legs.

  “Most people who work here are foundlings. They don’t mind it. Warm place, roof overhead, food at mornin’, and they even get clothes.” At the top of the stairs, Ike turned to the right, down a hallway lined with doors. Anyone could lurk in those rooms, ready to seize the ladder and drag them back to work.

  “Do you think hags are waiting for us? They might know what we’re planning. They might know I’m after Harrison.”

  “Shhh.” He shook his head.

  The hairs on her arms lifted, and the evil crept away from her core toward her extremities. “Where does the window lead?”

  Ike opened a door, displaying a closet with shelves and built-in drawers. He grabbed a clean white dress and threw it at her. “An alley. It’s the best chance to get out of here. I was talking to people and they said Jimmy used to work in the kitchen, before Annie’s pa bought him off Augusta. That’s how he knew a ladder would work, I reckon.”

  “I told you Jimmy could be trusted.” Edna stepped into the closet, closed the door to a crack, and changed her clothes. The wet cotton stuck to her body, so she found a towel to dry off on, and tossed the soiled pile aside. The pine stench of gin lingered.

  She had to trust Ike, as she’d trusted Jimmy, as she trusted the seven Saints to light her path.

  When she emerged from the closet, Ike grabbed her hand and she smiled. It came upon her, that gladness, so fast she blinked. The evil dissipated as if it had never started growing.

  “I’m glad I’m not alone in this.” Her throat tightened. “I’ve got you and Jimmy.” Before, Harrison kept the evil away. Ike did now.

  He pulled her to the last door on the left and opened it to a long room lined with metal bunk beds.

  “This here’s the dorm for the older workers.” He pulled the ladder out from underneath the closest bunk and she followed him to the window at the end of the room. “Help me work this open.”

  Clouds hid the moon and stars, casting the damp night into blackness. The sill felt cold and rough against her palms. Edna gritted her teeth as she forced her weight against it, straining on her toes. Is that really freedom hovering an inch away? For Harrison, she could become the strongest fifteen year old alive.

  Next to her, Ike grunted. The window snapped open and he wiggled it. “All right, it won’t fall.” He threw one end of the ladder out and carried the other end to the closest bunk, tying it to a leg.

  “The alley’s awful dark. I can’t see anything out there.” She shivered as cold air washed over her. No, hags didn’t know what she planned. They weren’t waiting to snatch her. “We’re gonna freeze out there. Augusta’s got our warm clothes and money.”

  Ike tugged the ladder. “I’ll go first. Wait until I whistle and then you climb down.”

  Her eyes widened as Ike grabbed the rope and swung over the windowsill. His head disappeared down the side of the building. Edna leaned over to watch him descend. Her heartbeat increased, pushing that evil back into her conscousness. She’d never climbed anything other than stairs before. Could she do it, or would she fall? She couldn’t help Harrison if she broke her limbs.

  Ike’s whistle filtered through the darkness. Edna drew a deep breath.

  The rope felt sharp and thick beneath her palms. She grasped the rough windowsill, struggling
to swing her legs over in the dress’s tight skirt. She slipped and gasped, tightening her hands on the rung. One step, two steps… Her legs wobbled like jelly. Edna squeezed her eyes shut, feeling for the next rung with her foot, and the next, the brick wall scraping her knuckles and knees.

  Ike’s arms fastened around her and he plucked her off the ladder. She gasped, writhing, and he held her tighter, as if he truly cared about her safety. “You’re off. Mind if I hold your hand while we run?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t let go.”

  He pulled her down the alley. Their breath pulsed from their lungs, echoing off the walls.

  You might think you can change it.

  can’t do this!” Pain stitched through Edna’s side. Gasping, she fell to her knees in the ferns and her hand slipped from Ike’s. Moonlight filtered through the branches above their heads, swimming amongst the forest’s trees with a spooky glow, as though ghosts watched their plight.

  Ike grabbed her under the armpits to hike her up, but she sagged against him. “I hate being this weak! I should’ve walked to work. Why’d I always take the trolley?”

  With her in his arms, Ike sank to the ground. “Edna, I know you’re tired, but we can’t stop. They might come after us. The gin house already paid Annie’s father.” He massaged her shoulders as if it would give her strength.

  “We’re not slaves. Odds bobs, this can’t be real!” She gasped for breath. “I only need to rest a few seconds, I promise.”

  His shoulder brushed her chin. Goose bumps prickled her skin and her stomach fluttered at his closeness. She’d never been around an older boy so much. “We left everything back there. We don’t have any money. It’s night, and by the seven Saints, we’re in the middle of a forest. How do we know a wolf isn’t gonna spring out?” They couldn’t help her brother if they were dead.

  “I know where we’re going.” He patted her back.

  She jerked away to stare at his shadowed face. “How can you know? You might be in charge of finding Harrison, but that doesn’t make you a genius. We have to question everything, for Harrison’s sake. Nothing can go wrong.”

  “I saw a map at the train station.” He pulled her up and brushed debris off her arms, her skin so cold his fingers felt like blades. “We’re almost to Roberson Glen, and I got family there.”

  “You have family, but you live on the street?” The evil ticked her nerves–it sensed a lie in him. Edna tried to wet her lips, but her tongue was too dry. Her lips stuck to her front teeth. At least the evil stayed at bay, a nasty little reprieve from burning through her entire body.

  “Not close family. I’d never go move in with them, ‘cause they don’t have much, but they’ll help. This way.” His teeth flashed in a grin and he lifted a brass compass from his sash. “I stole this off a customer at the gin house. I don’t know how much longer, but we’re bound to come across a stream if we keep heading east. We’ll get a drink and rest there.”

  Not a liar then, just a thief. Edna sighed as the evil faded. “Bloody immoral.” May the seven Saints protect me from sin.

  A cottage with a thatched roof rose from the forest. Shutters covered the windows, dark and hollow. Since it was his family, she would let him go first. They might ignore callers at night.

  Edna hung back until she spotted a well. Finally, water. “Ike, I need a drink of water.” The river they’d stopped at hadn’t quenched her thirst, leaving her lips chapped. As Ike strolled to the door, she grasped the well’s wooden handle, but no bucket hung from the metal hook. Scowling, she stepped away. Behind her, Ike knocked. Perhaps the occupants wouldn’t answer, thinking they were criminals. Well, he was, but she wasn’t. If Ike thought they couldn’t get in, he wouldn’t have suggested it.

  A barn peeked over the two-story cottage and a woodpile was stacked near a shed, with more cut logs in a wheelbarrow. Eyes flashed near the chopping block. Edna gasped, pressing her hand over her heart.

  “Ike…” The words trailed off as the skunk blinked. Just that, then. Not too dangerous, albeit odorous. She held herself still until the stout animal waddled across the lawn into the forest. If they’d been at an estate, there would’ve been one-room tomtar shacks far back from the main house.

  The front door swung open and a man’s voice boomed from the candlelit interior: “Who knocks at midnight?”

  “It’s Ike. I come like they did.”

  The man stood outlined in yellow, the light spilling across Ike. “So you do.” The man stepped aside and bowed his head. Pockmarks marred his cheeks, and veins covered his bulbous nose.She tried to find a resemblance to Ike in him, but this man was pudgy where Ike was lean and muscled; they both had black hair, but where Ike’s was thick, the man’s hair seemed thin, stringy.

  Edna folded her arms, shivering as a cold breeze blew up her skirt. What odd things to say. Could they be speaking in code? Family didn’t nod to each other in Moser City. Maybe Ike lied about them being blood related. If they weren’t, would they still help? The man had moved so they could enter. That had to be a positive sign.

  Ike held out his hand to her. “Here’s my friend, Edna.”

  Keeping her arms folded, Edna crossed the yard into the cottage. The main room smelled of cinnamon. A table with split-log benches adorned the middle of the floor, across from a cold hearth. A woman stood beside it tossing in a log. She didn’t look up until the man shut the door.

  “I didn’t expect you, Ike.” She straightened. Like the man, her face had been scarred from the pox. Edna wondered why she didn’t use cosmetics from a hag to make herself pretty. Maybe that wasn’t important in the woods, where neighbors lived far apart.

  Did children like Harrison make pox cream for the hags to sell? The evil burned for a second before it held back.

  “Sit.” The man waved at the table. Edna waited until Ike sat before following suit. Herbs hung from the rafters, with pots and pans on the log walls.

  “It must be amazing to live in your own house instead of an apartment,” she whispered.

  The man bunched up a pamphlet and dumped it onto the hearth, along with small sticks. The woman lit the paper and the flame spread across the kindling. Sparks showered, crackling.

  “This is my cousin, Charles.” Ike pointed at the man.

  His black hair, streaked with white, hung to his shoulders. Like the woman, he wore a plaid robe wrapped over a white sleeping shift.

  “How do you do?” Edna clasped her hands in her lap, rubbing her fingers to warm them.

  “I’m his wife, Polly.” The woman removed a cloth bundle from a cupboard and set it on the table. She unwrapped a loaf of brown bread and broke off two hunks. One she handed to Edna, the other to Ike.

  “Thank you.” Edna’s hands trembled as she bit the crust. Luscious food. Her stomach rumbled as she gulped. “I haven’t eaten anything since some oatmeal with…” Harrison’s cogling.

  The breadcrumbs became pebbles in her mouth. Had Harrison gotten sustenance? She shouldn’t eat if he couldn’t. Harrison was only eight—he deserved the food more.

  “What’re you doing dressed like that?” Charles poured water from a pitcher into two tin cups.

  “We just left a gin house,” Ike said.

  Edna stiffened. So, they would go with the truth.

  Charles whistled. “I bet that has a tale.”

  “Edna, here”—Ike nodded toward her—“had her brother stolen by the hags. They left a watch and a machine. She wants her flesh brother back, not a cogling.”

  Edna choked on her bread. Hadn’t that been a secret? They were going to tell everything?

  “Do you have the watch?” Charles glared at Edna across the table.

  “I…” She stared at Ike, her eyes wide. “That watch is my only link to Harrison.” Charles and Polly might be thieves like Ike.

  “Show him.” Ike bit into his bread, crumbs raining over his lap.

  How had Ike known she’d hidden it under her new clothes after Augusta made her bathe? “I don�
��t—”

  Ike shook his head. “He’s trying to help us.” His tone softened. “Show him, Edna.”

  She paused, nibbling her lower lip. It could be a trap, but Ike could’ve stolen the watch at any time. He could’ve beaten her in the forest and taken off.

  I guess I didn’t come this far to hesitate and resist. She lifted the watch from her sash and set it on the tabletop before sliding it toward Charles. She kept the chain wrapped around her pointer finger while Charles turned it over to stare at the engraving. Her heartbeat sped as she expected him to yank it away, but he pushed it back and she tucked the watch safely back into her bodice—a pleasant weight against her skin.

  “You must be freezing.” Polly headed through a doorway into another room. “Let me get you other clothes.”

  Ike took another bite and shrugged.

  Edna glanced between Charles and Ike. “You’re not going to say anything?” They’d made it sound too important to disregard.

  “A cogling watch.” Charles poured himself a cup of water. “You both look exhausted. We can discuss this tomorrow.”

  “My brother’s stuck out there somewhere with hags.” She clenched her hand into a fist around the bread hunk. Crumbs stuck in her lace gloves.

  “In the bog,” Charles said.

  “I’m going to get him.” The watch pressed against her chest, a reminder of his disappearance. “I can’t abandon him.”

  Polly reentered, carrying an armful of material. “Your brother needs you strong. Go in the morning when you’re rested and warm. Here’s clothing. You can’t wear those outfits in the bog.” She set her bundle on the table. Age spots decorated her hands. Edna’s mother had a few of those freckles, but she kept them covered with white paint provided by the Music Hall.

  “I’ll still have to find a way to the bog.” Tears stung Edna’s eyes. Why did Polly have to be right? Why couldn’t fate allow Edna to appear at her brother’s side to whisk him home?