A Dusty Rose
Prologue
Margaret Benson sat in her dingy room, exhausted after a long labor. This was not how she planned her life. She had a baby lying by her side, and no husband to help her care for it. George had walked out on them only a week ago. Then this baby. Margaret reached up and used her bedsheet to wipe the tears from her eyes. The small baby girl, who had been born to early. The midwife had told her she had never seen a baby this little survive before.
Margaret took a deep breath. "Not my baby. Not my little Leah Marie." She held the precious girl closer to her chest. "You don't have to worry little one. I'll take care you, no matter what." She sniffed, and squared her shoulders.
George had been a drinker. He had once been a kind and wonderful man, and she had fallen in love with him. He had been handsome, tall and dark with chocolate brown eyes, and wavy brown hair, his features chisled and perfect. Margaret had fallen hard for him. She was beautiful herself, with long blonde hair, and blue eyes, set into a doll-like face. They had gotten married after only a month, and it had been a whirlwind of love at first. That was until George had lost his job at the factory. He had turned to drinking then letting the whiskey wash away the guilt he had for not being able to take care of his wife. Slowly but surely he started to change. Guilt turned to anger. Anger at the factory, anger at himself, and finally, anger at his wife. He never physically beat her but his words would cut her like a knife, and hurt just as much, if not worse then any physical beating he could have doled out. When She had told him she was pregnant, he had exploded. She remembered it like it was yesterday. He had thrown his whiskey bottle at her. It had missed, and after he sobered up, he had apologized. He had said he had just been worried about having to support another person. Margaret had thought quietly to herself, if he would only stop drinking he could actually go out and find a job. She didn't dare say it out loud though.
But what did all that matter now? His drinking had gotten worse and worse over the months. When he had stormed out the door, she had cried after him. Pleading with him to come back. But he had never even looked back. He was gone now, and Margaret was alone, living in hope that he would someday come back.
It was almost a sickness, they way she continued to hope the abusive man would return. Years had passed, and the baby girl that was supposed to die was now 4. She had the dark hair of her father, and her mother's pretty face and eyes. Margaret had started to go by Maggie, and lived in a brothel in the dingier part of Manhattan. She had promised to take care of her Leah, and she was determined to do so. With her stunning looks, she was in high demand with the men, and with the business she brought to the brothel, the owner, Madame DeLou had allowed her to keep Leah with her, as long as she was quiet and didn't disturb the customers.
And that was how Leah's life started.
"Leah, sweetheart, come along now, we don't have time to be dilly-dallying."
"Yes, Mama," Leah answered, gently being tugged along by her mother. Leah was excited. Today was her eighth birthday, and Mama said she had a surprise for her.
They hurried down the busy streets, returning to the neglected brownstone they called home. They were getting close, and Leah could see its roof jutting into the sky. She had never liked the building. It was dirty and frequented by filthy people, greasy men looking for a good time, some ending up in her Mama's bed. She wasn't supposed to know about them, and she didn't fully understand why they were there, but she despised them all the same. They were mean, and used foul language, most were fat, and ugly, and even the good looking ones had such foul, greedy looks on their faces, it was hard to tell they were attractive at all.
But Leah wasn't worried about all that, not today. Today was her day. October the tenth, the only day of the year besides Christmas, when she had Mama all to herself. She loved those days, when it was almost like life was normal. She knew the life she and Mama led wasn't normal. She heard the names the other kids called them, when they didn't think she was listening, some of the crueler kids had actually said them to her face. Leah never said anything back. She would just look at them with her steady blue eyes, until they looked away.
But none of that mattered today, Today was different. Today Mama had gotten out of bed at the break of dawn. She hadn't laid there for hours weeping, or drinking, or both. She had gotten up, and helped Leah get ready, telling her of the surprise.
First, she had taken Leah out to breakfast, at a diner a few blocks away. Leah had eaten as much as she wanted, until her belly was full, and she couldn't eat another bite. And now was the time for the surprise. They reached the brownstone, and walked quickly up the stairs, avoiding the main rooms where men waited for their turn at pleasure.
Reaching the room, Leah could hardly stand it anymore, she was so excited. "What is it, Mama? What's the surprise?"
"Here you are, doll. A present just for you."
Mama handed her a small box wrapped in brown paper. Leah excitedly ripped the paper off. She opened the small white box, and gasped when she saw what was inside. "Oh, Mama, it's beautiful!" She lifted a slender gold chain out of the box, dangling from it was a gold, heart shaped locket, with a rose, just beginning to bloom engraved onto it. Leah looked up at Mama, eyes shining, "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
"Here, let me show you how it works." Mama took the locket and pressed her thumbnail into the tiny crack. She handed it back to Leah, revealing the picture inside. It was a tiny photograph of Mama, next to a handsome man.
"Mama, who is that?"
Her eyes shined with unshead tears as she answered. "That's your papa. He was a fine man. But he had to go away."
"My papa? But where did he go?"
"If only I knew, Sweetheart… If only I knew."
Leah wondered about her father off and on for the next few years. He was a great mystery to her, and she tended to judge him by her knowledge of the men who came to the old brownstone to see her mother. All she knew of him was that when he was needed most, he left. And as far as she was concerned, that was all she needed to know, to despise him. A week after she turned fourteen her thoughts turned to that of a much more urgent matter. Her mother was sick.
In June she had been complaining of a fever, and had been sick a few times. Leah hadn't thought anything of it, and it had passed, after a week or so. But when October rolled around, She knew there was something wrong. Her mother was constantly tired, begging the Madame for time off, so she could sleep. She stopped getting out of bed completely, and lost so much weight, Leah began to beg her to eat.
Leah had just left the kitchen, after returning to the cook the bowl of uneaten porridge she had attempted to coax her mother into eating. She trudged back up the stairs, and felt the gaze of several people on her as she passed. The whole brothel was wondering what was happening to Maggie. She was well liked, and people had noticed when she had stopped coming out of her room. Leah had heard the whispers after she told the Madame that her mama wouldn't be seeing any more customers for a while. It was only the large amount of money Maggie usually brought in for the Madame that kept her from turning them both onto the streets.
Leah entered their room, and gasped at the sight of her mother. Pale, and covered in a film of sweat, she lay limp on the bed. She had coughed out blood onto her pillow case, and her breathing was ragged. "Mama!" Leah cried, rushing to her bedside, and falling to her knees, "Help!" She screamed, her throat dry, "Get the doctor! Somebody send for the doctor!"
Leah grasped her mothers hand, "Just hang in there mama, we'll get you help."
The door swung open, and several people looked in, staring open mouthed at the scene in front of them. Leah felt a surge of anger, quickly followed by desperation, as she yelled, "Filly, go fetch a doctor! Now! Please, go!" She yelled at a girl who had arrived at the brothel only weeks ago. Filly gave a doubtful look at the scene before her, then turned on her heel, and started down the hallway.
Leah turned back to her mama. Her breathing had turned even more ragged, and her eyes were closed. Leah wasn't sure if she was even conscious anymore.
It wasn't long before the doctor showed in the doorway, and told everyone to leave. "You too, little girl. I don't know what you're doing in a place like this, but you can't be in this room right now."
"Please, sir, it's my mama. Something's wrong with her." Leah said thickly through sobs that racked her whole body.
The doctor looked at her again, a sympathetic look crossing his features. "You'll have to wait outside, I'll tell you as soon as I know anything" He gently propelled Leah out the door, and closed it firmly behind her.
Leah paced for a while before some of the girls convinced her to go downstairs, and wait on one of the couches in the lobby. Some of the girls tried to comfort her, but the time passed in a fog for her, and she didn't respond to any of them.
After what seemed like hours, the doctor came down stairs. He quietly asked everyone else to leave the room, and knelt down in front of Leah. "You're mama is very sick," he said kindly. "She's having a hard time breathing." He stopped for a moment, before continuing, "I'm sorry, I don't think she'll make it much longer."
Leah could only stare dumbly at him. After a moment, he stood, and talked softly to someone that had been standing in the hallway. Leah dazedly recognized her as Bonnie, one of the women that had helped take care of her, when her mother was busy with a patron.
The next few days passed in a blur for Leah, she stayed by her mother's side, refusing to eat or drink, or even sleep.
The morning of the 17th dawned cold and rainy. Leah sat by her mother's bedside, clutching her hand, and speaking to her, trying to keep her mind off the pain. Her voice had gone hoarse an hour ago, but she kept speaking anyways, telling her anything she could think of, to keep her mama relaxed and happy. And then it happened. Maggie opened her eyes, and stared at her daughter.
"My beautiful Leah," She rasped out, "I love you more then you could ever know. And your father, he loves you too. Don't ever doubt that. Choose a better life for yourself, then what I have given you. You're a smart girl. You can do whatever you set your mind to. I love you." With those words Maggie, rasped out one more breath, then closed her eyes, and was at peace.
"Mama? No! MAMA!" Leah screamed out her name, over and over again, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her lack of sleep, and grief combined in a way that she didn't even notice when she was carried from the room, placed in a bed that was not her own, and covered with a thick blanket. She continued to whisper her mama's name, until finally, sweet sleep took over her exhausted body.
