Through a Slave's Eyes, Alice Arbuthnot [world of reading txt] 📗
- Author: Alice Arbuthnot
Book online «Through a Slave's Eyes, Alice Arbuthnot [world of reading txt] 📗». Author Alice Arbuthnot
“Dear Georgia Skay,
Chase and I are bringing two others, so there are four of us and nine in all. Your train to Gringe leaves at nine at night on the sixteenth, it will cost nine drooners each. It would probably be smart to pay and not try to sneak on. The train with take two days to reach here, when you arrive it’ll be around eleven at night, a man in a tan trench coat and blue scarf will meet you at the station, he will ask you if he can help you with your bags, say yes. This is majorly important, do not worry, he is with me. For safety purposes he will call you Sophia and you will call him Mr. Gown. Mr. Gown will let you and your party stay at his house for the night, the next day he will give you money, walk with you to the station, and leave. Do not, under an circumstances, tell him your real names, he has requested so for his own, and your safety. You may send one more letter, and we will respond with one under a different name and address, after that do not send anymore. Our master will find it. Our last letter will be sent to Andrew’s false name. On the eighteenth we will meet you at the station, look casual. We will go over the rest our plans on the train. If you do not arrive we will assume your capture. Burn this letter as you did the last.
For freedom,
Steaven Harrison.”
Everyone was silent for a while. Andrew broke it, “We meet here at eight o’clock. The station is a forty-five minute walk at least, pack lightly but definitely bring a bag. We need to blend in. Everyone will be changed into their town out-fits. Ky, bring the money. Georgia, write a return note tonight.” He stood up with the note now in his hand, “Everyone, remember Mr. Gown and nine o’clock. All good?” he looked around at us, “Good.” He walks over to the shore and moves some of the dirt to make a pit. He balls the paper up and places it in the pit, “For freedom,” he says puling a lighter from his pocket and lighting it up. Our now surrounding bodies cover the fire’s light, and the surrounding night, the gray smoke.
The darkness of the early morning surrounds me as I round the fountain and see the now expected shadow of a person. “Hey stranger,” I say to the shadow. Ky turns to me and gives me a small smile, “So your last name’s Skay?” I stood there, puzzled for second. “In the letter, Steaven called you Georgia Skay,” he explained, “I like it.” My cheeks warm a little, “I never really liked my name that much,” I say fidgeting with the knobs and pumps for the fountain. “I think it’s beautiful,” he said tilting my chin up enough so I could see his shadowed face. “What’s your last name?” I ask him, curiosity getting the best of me. He cocked his head to the side a little bit then I saw a coy smile play along his lips, “Penton, my last names Penton,” he said after a moment’s pause. Classy, I think, sounds almost like a rich name, but that couldn’t be, rich people don’t get abducted. “I like it,” I say smiling at him. He returns a sad one, “It ain’t that great, reminds me too much of my dad.” “Tell me about him?” I ask.
As the sun slowly rises into the early sky Ky tells me of a man so unlike him it’s unimaginable. One who left for a war when he was a small child as a strong, steady father; and came back a man, cruel and distant. One who batted at his impregnated mother and Ky and left for days at a time until returning for no other reason than to have a bed and a place to puke out his hangover. Tears fill rim my eyes as I listen to him describe his last moments with the man, “He’d just come home from one of his drinking sprees, not drunk enough the be falling over himself, too much; but his mind was definitely foggy to say the least. As he came through the door my mother screamed from the back room.
“My older cousin, who was staying with us at the time, was the first to get to the room, but my father and I soon followed. My mother had gone into labor, and my father was panicking. I stood in the doorway, helplessly watching as he yelled at her for not doing anything and how he ‘couldn’t afford another brat’ and other things like that. She couldn’t defend herself, she was in too much pain, she just laid on the floor and gave agonizing wails. As he raised his hand to her my cousin stepped in and pinned my father to the wall. He wasn’t usually that strong, but with adrenaline he could do it. In the end, my father left with a black eye and I was sent to get our neighbor, Mrs. Noelle. The next day my sister Kara was born.”
I stared at him quietly for the longest time. I had thought my life hadn’t gone very well, not seeing your dad was one thing, but watching him go was another. “I’m sorry,” I say slowly. He smiled as a silent tear rolled down his cheek and he told me it was good to talk about it, but I still felt bad for asking.
“Georgia, the ball is in two days. Two days, Georgia! And I don’t have even a clue what I’m going to wear,” complained Mrs. Welch as she flipped through a magazine she had picked up. I noted she had gotten used to the idea of calling it a ‘ball’. Which seemed strange since I’d gotten so used to calling it escape, “Why don’t you just wear something you already have?” I asked, feigning innocence since I knew the answer. She gasped and looked at my incredulously, “Something I—I—oh Georgia, you are just too simple minded! A lady of my—my importance reusing clothes like an orphan? Oh, dear child I know that may be alright for one who is, like yourself. But not for a lady! Use your head, I know it may hurt to think too hard,” at this point she patted my cheek sympathetically, “but you must try.” “I apologize Madam,” I say. “Rightfully child,” she says, “you will not be punished on this occasion because of your background. Though orphan or not we will keep outrageous thoughts like those from your mouth.” “Yes, Madam,” she really thinks I’m an orphan, “May I make amends with a suggestion?” She nods curtly, and I begin with the plan, “Maybe, Madam, you could go to town for a dress, so you might know it fits for sure.” “Are you suggesting I don’t know my size?” she asks. “No Madam, it is only that the dresses seem to look better on a page then if when they arrive.” She thinks for a moment, “True. Child we will go to town tomorrow,” she starts to get up and walk out when she stops and turns to me, “Oh, by the way, the children are being pulled out of school tomorrow and flown in for the ball, make sure their rooms are ready.”
I walk back to the kitchen, and Selein ambushes me as I come in, “Well!?” she asks in a hushed voice as she tugs me to the empty table. “She fell for it,” I whisper sitting. “Oh yay!” she excites, “This is great, now Ky can get the money and it’ll be great, and—and why are you looking at me like that?” “The kids are coming in,” I blurt out. She lets that sink in a bit, “You think they’ll cause too much trouble?” “I don’t know, you know how Simon is.” She stares at the table and scratches her pointed ear nervously as she muttered to herself, “Well they can’t do too much.. But they have before… But they couldn’t be allowed into the kitchen…. But they never obey the rules..” I sigh,
“Selein I’m sure it’ll be fine, we just need to avoid them.”
“Avoid who sweeties?” a voice says from behind. We turn to see Jenny standing nearby stirring some mix in a bowl, “The kids are coming in,” I tell her. She makes a grimace, “Well, that’s got to put a damper on you girl’s plans this weekend,” she says casually, but there’s a glint in her eye that reminds I forgot to tell her. Then I freak, how does she know if I didn’t tell her? “Jenny,” I start cautiously, glancing around, “who told you about our weekend plans?” “Oh, that nice boy that works in the stables said that you and Madam Welch were going to town for a meeting on Sunday.” One look at her eyes you could tell Ky told her the truth, but she couldn’t say it in a crowded kitchen. “Madam was talking about you making us some cookies for the trip to town, are you going to?” I ask her, but what I was truly asking was, Are you coming with us?
She smiles sadly, “I don’t know Dearie, my old hands are getting arthritis; I don’t know if I could make ’em.” Was that a no? Could she not make the run because of her old age? The thought worried me. “You won’t get in trouble right?” I ask. She grins, “No Dearie, I’d be fine.” With that she walked back to the counter where she glops the mix in blobs onto a tray.
“Tomorrow night we’ll be free,” Ky says as we sit by the fountain. “I don’t think us free till we’re off of Namay,” I say, “maybe not even until we’re on Selder.” “That’s good I guess, then at least you don’t get your hopes up,” he says. I look at him, “So you’re getting the money today?” “Yep,” he smiles, “when you and Madam Witch pull out I’m
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