The Sweetest Sounds
Anthony opened his guidebook as he walked along the street. He was lost, hopelessly lost. According to his book, he probably past Hyde Park half a dozen times by now. He turned around the corner, hoping to find Hyde Park. Luck was not so kind to him. He stared, mouth agape, at the street ahead as people bustled by him. He bent his head and closed his eyes as he let out a frustrated sigh. He shuffled toward the nearest bench and fell into it. He snapped his guidebook shut and put it away in his bag. He sighed again and bent over, clasping his hands and putting his elbows on his legs. He was feeling very embarrassed at this moment. A sailor losing his bearings? The rest of the crew would laugh so hard if they knew.
Then, for some reason, his thoughts wandered to Mr. Todd. He thought of Mr. Todd being pulled out of the sea, after he had called the crew's attention to him. Mr. Todd was barely conscious when he was brought on board. Anthony had hardly left his side since then. He recalled their song about London, that they had sung just this foggy morning, and how much hate it brought to Mr. Todd's eyes.
His eyes…
Anthony winced as he remembered Mr. Todd's dark piercing eyes that burned with an intense hatred for London. His sunken eyes that looked as if they had seen more tragedies than any human being deserved to see. Mr. Todd's words were still engraved in his mind.
There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and the vermin of the world inhabit it and its morals aren't worth what a pig could spit and it goes by the name of London…
He heard Mr. Todd's tale of the barber and his wife, and he could see the tear that came to the man's eye when he told it. Anthony straightened up and his eyes widened as a thought dawned on him.
The barber was Mr. Todd!
How could I have been so stupid?! He thought, coming very close to smacking his forehead with his hand. He slumped back in the bench and began to stare at the gray sky. He pulled his navy jacket around him as the wind rushed through his medium-length brown hair. The wind permeated his jacket and bit his skin. He was feeling miserable until he heard a gentle soprano melody floating on the fierce wind. He looked around until he found its source.
In the second story window of a large gray brick house, sat a girl, who looked to be about fifteen years old, with long blonde hair. Her viewpoints changed between her needlework, her caged songbirds, and the empty sky. Anthony's blue eyes were transfixed on hers, his ears on her enchanting melody.
Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing? How can you jubilate, sitting in cages, never taking wing?
Her song was beautiful and sad. She sang asking how her caged birds could sing and wanting to be free of her own cage.
Anthony stood up from his bench in a trance. He was gravitating towards her song. This girl was all he could think about. He was brought back to London by the tall black iron fence surrounding her house. He winced and rubbed his forehead. He lifted his gaze back to the girl, but her song was done. She noticed Anthony standing on her street and gave him a sad, angelic smile. Anthony felt as if he was on a cloud. He didn't know this girl's name but he knew he had fallen in love with her.
The girl suddenly sprang from her window, leaving a confused Anthony gawking at her window. He started to walk back to his bench, asking himself if he was simply dreaming a beautiful dream.
A bent beggar woman came up to him singing: Alms! Alms! For a miserable woman! On a miserable chilly morning! Feeling sorry for the woman, he put a shilling into her outstretched hand. She thanked him and began to walk away, cradling the coin in her hand. Anthony stopped her and she slowly turned around.
"Ma'am, could you tell me whose house this is?"
"That's the great Judge Turpin's house!" She croaked.
"And the young lady who resides there?" He inquired, praying that she wasn't just an invention of his dreams.
"Oh that's Johanna, his pretty little ward…" Though the woman continued, warning him not to go near the house, Anthony hardly heard anything after the first sentence. Johanna! Just the sound of her name, her image in his mind, made him feel as if he was walking on the clouds. The beggar woman hobbled away, still singing, and Anthony walked over to his bench, picking up his abandoned bag. He cheerily continued down the street, determined to see her again soon. As he did, a song rose from his heart and through his mouth.
I feel you, Johanna. I feel you! He smiled and continued his song, hardly taking his eyes off of her window.
I was half convinced I'd wakened, satisfied enough to dream you. Happily, I was mistaken, Johanna! I'll steal you, Johanna. I'll steal you!
He would take he from this brick prison and they would leave London behind. He would break the bars of her cage, and he would show her the wonders of the world!
The door of her house being opened interrupted his pleasant thoughts. A tall, intimidating man with gray hair stood in the doorway. He gestured for Anthony to come into the house. The youth was too frightened not to go inside. He tiptoed inside as Judge Turpin closed the door. When Anthony heard the lock click, a lump formed in his stomach and an ominous feeling began to take hold in the house.