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Seven Days

Day 1

-In Which a Great Deal is Unknown-


"Wait for me when you open shop tomorrow…

on the first day…"


The stranger's words floated by like a peculiar but not unpleasant dream. After an uneventful night of rest, Sophie couldn't pin down if yesterday's events were real. At her very door a mere few steps away, the man had tucked a loose piece of her ginger hair behind her ear. Sophie's face flushed hot in the light of the morning. Words rang in her ear incessantly, and the sweep of elaborate sleeves kept coming to her mind's eye.

Yesterday had been odd.

The funny thing was, she had turned around for a brief moment to open the door to the shop, perhaps invite him in. However, when Sophie had turned around again, the spot on the cobblestones where he'd been standing held nothing but air. The man had vanished from her life as quickly as he'd appeared.

Sophie chewed her lip as she pondered the peculiarities. She cut the dry loaf of bread in front of her deftly, slicing it into thin pieces for breakfast. No one can just walk down a street that fast. Perhaps, Sophie had been in such a state of delirium that it was likely he was just a figment of her hallucination. She tried to stay nonplussed, but struggled to keep her imagination within reason.

'Wait for me…'

Warmth tinted Sophie's cheeks as color bloomed upwards in a rush of scarlet. A passerby would have told you the color was pretty to look at on Sophie's normally pale skin. Some would call her complexion near-alabaster. Yet, Sophie sincerely thought it dreadfully white and ghost-like, after all the teasing from her peers in school. Just as the eldest of three was not supposed to be pretty, so too were exciting, un-ordinary things never to happen to that eldest.

But perhaps an un-ordinary thing did happen, yesterday. Just the thought of his words made nervous energy course through her limbs, and, no matter how hard she tried, it seemed that Sophie could not stifle the expectation that hummed inside her chest.

Would she wait?

Certainly, she was no damsel. There was no reason to stall her daily life for a flight of fancy or a somewhat-nosy stranger.

The shop should be opened in exactly eight minutes, no more. Besides, to open later would have been no harm to custom. As the number of buyers was a career low recently, scraping the bottom of the bucket meant longer hours, greater flexibility on her part to tend the shop faithfully. It was more of a mental challenge. No one had spelled out exactly what fulfilling her duty as eldest daughter and keeper of the hat shop meant for the rest of her life. It was a foreboding thought.

'The hat shop suits you,' Sophie said resolutely to herself. Mustering cheer was an important part of the morning's routine. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder every day. What of adventure? Sight-seeing? Perhaps just a long vacation? She had the strange sensation that she was just one step short from following the glamorous young man from yesterday to the ends of the earth, if he asked her to. Sophie laughed at herself, and shook her head.

As Sophie was rebuking herself for ever having such a thought, she thought back to Lissy's gang's gossip. Why, a part of Sophie was probably no more sensible than Georgina Rice, who, indeed, had probably fallen prey to a disloyal and irresponsible figure, causing Gina to be the gossip along the lesser cultured parts of Market Chipping for a while. 'Oh drat', thought Sophie. In fact, it might have been that Georgina had fallen for exactly the same good looks she'd so blushed over yesterday.

"Who are you?" Sophie wondered to the empty shop.

Today, as with all peaceful mornings, the store was neatly cluttered with hats, bobbin, and lace, but, even during midday, there would likely be no customers. After the first few weeks of optimism, Sophie had developed a knack for pragmatism instead. She got many hours of extra sewing and sweeping done by her lonesome. It was efficient work. Ever punctual, Sophie tucked away the remains of her breakfast, folding the corner of the white cloth her dry slice of bread had been on. Bits of crumbs were swiftly deposited of in the trash, and the rest of the loaf saved in the pantry of the other room for another, later meal.

Walking from the kitchen, Sophie sat at the counter in the main hat shop area. Crossing over to the window, she pulled the blinds and felt a rush of longing as the golden, morning sunlight rushed through. The words printed on the window display case gleamed dully at her. 'RETTAH', it read to Sophie. She glanced, on edge, at the clock on the mantelpiece. Only five more minutes left until she would open.

She peered outside, at the colorful assortment of petticoats and jerkins that walked by on the streets. She thought of the hats that would match the passerby's ensembles. She sighed.

The sky was a piercing blue, and the day seemed fresh and new from the dowdy, dark hat shop interior. Sophie cast her eyes out on the streets in dismay as each passing figure proved at once to be-or not to be-whom she was waiting for.

Just as Sophie was about to let out a long-suffering sigh (hah! told you so, said her logical side), a beacon of golden hair glimmered under the morning sun. The gleaming crown of hair was across the street. Sophie's gaze snapped toward it, and her heart gave a skip from half fright, half excitement. She didn't dare to open the door and call out, to determine who it was, for sure. Yet, pressed up against her store window, she didn't dare avert her eyes, for fear he'd vanish out of existence, as he had yesterday.

I know you.

Sophie glanced at the clock. One minute until opening time. She moved quickly, ducking out of the display window's view so she could rush back to the counter and appear nonchalant. Sophie was only four steps closer to the counter in the back of the shop before she heard the scuffle of shoes outside her door. Sophie stood there, fixed to the spot on the rug of the floor. Swiveling uncomfortably so that she was facing the door, she stared in what she hoped as a composed manner at the figure outside the display window.

He was dressed just as lavishly as yesterday, only it was a more discreet form of 'lavish'. Sophie had an eye for textiles and fabrics, being a hatter. The stranger wore a striking forest green coat over a smooth white shirt of impeccable material. From the black pants down to the polished shoes winking at her, Sophie had to concede she had never seen someone dress so well for a day's work in Market Chipping. Clearly, he had money. She wondered how much she would have to pay him, to recompense his time. Or was he helping her out of the goodness of his heart?

In what felt like a heartbeat and a century at the same time, the man smiled winningly and gave her a polite nod of greeting. His blue eyes, looking a touch green also from the morning light, sparkled as he waved slightly and knocked on the window glass playfully. His mouth formed words as he motioned towards the door.

The gesture jolted Sophie to action. The door! Oh, blast it, opening time. Sophie moved hastily to the shop front, nearly tripping on her skirts. By the time she reached the doorknob and managed to get the wooden barrier to open, the man looked quite bemused. Likely at the behest of her clumsy antics, Sophie thought glumly.

Reminding herself to act properly, she stepped back to let him in. "Hello."

"A good day to you too," he returned, crossing the doorway smoothly. "I take it this is your father's shop, that you've been so dutifully looking over."

'Dutifully.' After all she'd divulged yesterday, would he think she thought of this shop as shackles? "Yes," Sophie forced out, embarrassed. "I'm glad you've come."

The man followed as she led him through a brief tour of the room for hat displays. "Did you think I wouldn't come?" he probed. "I always keep my word," he looked thoughtful for a second, before adding. "It's just that I don't give it often. Of course, in this case, I was simply returning the favor. Besides," and here he peered at her, his smile growing more charming, if possible. "I couldn't leave a pretty lady like you in distress."

Sophie suddenly found the spot on the wallpaper the most interesting thing she'd seen in ages.

"Doesn't the shop open at eight thirty?"

Today's frustratingly slow mental switch flickered again in Sophie's head. She rose and ran to the door to unlock it, only to remember that she'd already done so in letting the man in. Flustered, Sophie went to the other window and pulled open the blinds for that one as well, signaling to the public that the shop was officially open.

When she returned to the back of the shop, the man was sitting behind the counter, looking a little out of place next to an assortment of old bobbins and pins. Sophie apologized for her clumsiness, at which the sophisticated stranger laughed away, saying there was no need, and that she was a wonderful daughter for being so diligent.

Sophie didn't know if she should bloom or wither under his compliment. She was tired of always being so prone to schedules and such. His words seemed to sting at her covert hypocrisy.

The next few minutes settled in much more comfortably, in which the stranger asked Sophie her name. She answered faithfully, then told him a bit about the shop and its customs. He was a keen listener, she found out, and was good at making her feel more relaxed but also alert. The uncanny rhythm of gentle probing and easy attentiveness made for the storyteller to feel as if her daily life was a little exciting. After customary inquiries into her family and current work were done, they veered onto the weather. Then, after the proper talk about the weather had been done, they lapsed into momentary silence. Now, a scant few feet away from such a man, Sophie's shyness returned full force. She had so many questions, but it was frustratingly hard to start asking them!

Perhaps it was the feeling of obligation. Although she knew that this was a favor from him, she felt compelled to return the favor, somehow, at least make this worth his while. Unfortunately, the usual day at the hat shop bred some discomfort for its owner. Put more simply, the town's most eager young gossips enjoyed making a sport of visiting.

At ten, the usual crowd of girls started flocking at the front of the hat shop. Sophie grew worried, biting the inside of her cheek as she glanced to see if the man had noticed. They milled about, and gathered like a group of snowy pigeons, each in their individual finery. Sophie thought them more like crows on the inside, though she'd never say that aloud.

The man brushed some golden strands of hair out of his eyes and seemed to perk up. "Look, Sophie. Customers! We should advertise!" he said cheerfully.

"They-they're..."

But he was already out of his seat. Sophie lost heart to dissuade him. How could she admit that the girls were here to tease her?

Sophie wrung her hands in dismay. But before she could muster the courage to protest again, the man had already walked up to the display window and tapped it to reach the neighborhood girls on the other side. Sophie watched, horrified, as Lissy turned her head first.

Lissy's soft hazel eyes widened as she saw him come closer. She scanned up and down, before registering that the man was, yes, inside the Hatter shop. Quickly, she batted her eyelashes as she glanced at him again, more demurely this time. The girls around her tittered enviously as the attractive stranger pointed to Lissy (who was not wearing a hat), then to his head, and capped it off by giving Lissy a handsome smile. Sophie felt a pang of conscience at the sour feeling in her own gut. Who was she to judge whether or not Lissy was deserving?

Amazing everyone at the scene, Lissy opened the door to the Hatter shop and stepped her two daintily slippered feet inside. Sophie balked at the sight, but the golden haired man merely smiled winningly again. Lissy cast her eyes downward, walking in small but stately steps toward the displays of hats. Sophie was appalled. She had never seen Lissy back down from a man before. Mostly, they were the ones who blushed in her presence, not the other way around!

For once, Lissy ignored Sophie, and her attention honed on the man in front of her. She followed his every word, nodding dazedly. The town silversmith's daughter was starting to look like a fish that had too much sun. Dazed, and very... pliant. In contrast, Sophie's sour feeling only intensified.

"So, I trust you do understand that hats are remarkably in style nowadays." The man finished, his blue eyes, showing no spark of green at this moment, staring straight into the customer's. Lissy nodded like a guppy, transfixed.

Sophie took note of her new shop attendant's remarkable power of persuasion.

"And I'm sure that a young woman such as yourself would keep up with the latest fashion tips and statements," he continued in his imploringly suave voice. Lissy's mouth hung slightly loose, her eyes still caught at his face.

"So you'll buy one?"

Lissy closed her mouth, opened it, closed it again, before nodding slowly. The man laughed in delight, before walking to a nearby rack and selecting the closest one, a plumed, cream silk hat that Sophie knew was of good material and therefore higher expense. Lissy followed his movements with her eyes.

He brought it before her, presenting it dramatically. "I believe this one suits you. It looks positively ravishing. I only believe you'll enhance its beauty even more."

Lissy's cheeks were flushed and her eyes looked glassy, Sophie noted. Perhaps the new shop attendant was a bit too persuasive.

Also noticing, the man smiled worriedly, and put a hand on Lissy's shoulder. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked gallantly.

Lissy gasped out that she was fine.

Since his new patron looked a little out of sorts to walk to the pay counter and out the door by herself, the man Sophie now considered an excellent business partner held Lissy's trembling hand, all the way to the door. And as soon as Lissy stepped out of the shop, new hat in hand, a remarkable thing happened. All the young girls who'd been holding their breaths at the door let it out in one great rush and proceeded to shove each other to get through the door to the shop first.

The young man grinned at them all, and lo, they seemed to come under the same spell as Lissy, who continued to hang by the door, looking wistful.

Hat after hat got sold, each of them in the higher range of prices.

Sophie collected the money and delivered change, growing more and more curious at the poor girls' conditions. They seemed not to register the value of the fat gold coins they deposited, as they sent besotted looks toward the new Hatter shop worker, who looked extremely fine in his forest green suit, which suited his pretty hair and pretty eyes oh so well, Sophie heard them coo. It was then that Sophie decided that the man was a gift from the above to her father's shop, sent down to help gain customers.

Indeed, she had never sold that many hats in that short of a time.


The girls hung about all day, and the charming man wrung out of each the promise to tell their neighbors, their neighbors' children, and their neighbors' dogs, even, about the hat shop.

As the sun traversed the sky, shining ever more brightly before the dusky evening, it came time to close shop. Sophie informed her new best employee of this, and he in turn announced this to all the girls milling still in the hat shop. They sighed and cried out wretchedly, but soon, the man had them marching out of the shop in two straight lines. One poor girl burst out into tears upon leaving through the door, and the man had to look noble and reassure her before she would leave, on the premise that when she would come to visit, he would be there. Sophie swallowed a small chuckle when she heard the reply. The shop didn't open at the 'stroke of dawn'.

After they were all gone, the day's earnings needed to be filed in the ledger. Sophie held her breath as her fingers counted the profit. They had sold more than thirty five hats, and all of them top notch and high in cost, too.

The young man walked over. He looked a little tired, but his eyes smiled along with his mouth as he asked:

"So, Sophie, did it go well?"

Sophie was in the middle of wracking her brain on how to properly thank him, but quickly regained her composure. She stepped toward him, stopped, then nodded enthusiastically. "You've been so much help," she smiled at him, sincerity in her face. "Thank you," she added.

The tone of her voice made an expression akin to wonder bloom on his face for a second, before he laughed pleasantly. He had a rich tenor laugh, full and different from his knowing chuckles during sales hours.

She smiled softly, too, before saying, "You've done more than enough to pay me back, really. You don't have to come back tomorrow."

His face grew serious, underneath a thin veneer of good humor. "Sophie," he said, and the way her name sounded on his lips was suddenly different. "Don't ever think I go back on my word to you. I said seven days, right? Well then, a week it will be, no less."

"But what about you? Your duties?"

"I don't have duties so much as, well, freedoms."

"Freedoms?" Sophie's brow knit.

"Sure," he laughed. "Things I want to do. Adventures. Wherever, whenever."

At Sophie's dismayed look around the room at the decidedly unadventurous rows of hats, the man grinned wider.

"This is my grandest adventure yet, Sophie."

A profound feeling flooded her chest, and she realized she'd been holding her breath. To think, that this hat shop could be an adventure. That the shop she loved, because she loved her father, could be someone's idea of freedom, adventure, and fancy! She looked down, hoping he didn't see the genuine relief on her face.

"Thank you," she whispered.

It then occurred to her that she barely knew anything about the man. After deeper thought, she realized that she didn't know anything at all. His name, age, profession. Nothing had been revealed to her during the course of what seemed like natural conversation. Sophie had told him much about herself, but he remained a mystery. It was the same since their first talk yesterday, the same as when two pairs of blue eyes had stared back at her in the alley way.

Sophie looked up now to meet those same eyes. A man with such a taste for adventure was likely every Market Chipping girl's pipe dream, with a bonus of clear skin, laughing eyes, and golden hair that fell loosely to his shoulders. Behind his charm, he seemed sensitive, too, and knew her troubles from the day they'd met, and walked her home.

But he was also a stranger.

'Of course he is going to keep his distance!' Sophie thought. She could only rely on him, and had nothing of substance to offer in return. It made her feel inferior now, making eye contact with such an enigma.

The stranger seemed to sense her anxiety now. His brow creased. "Sophie, what's wrong?"

Sophie shook her head. "No, nothing." Then, feeling bolder, she said. "It's just that, I don't know much about you at all." As soon as she'd said this, she felt badly. She was on the receiving end of a favor already. What right did she have to demand more? "If it's rude to ask, I'm sorry."

He laughed, also apologetic. "No, it's my fault. I should have introduced myself properly!"

He stood, and Sophie looked up at him from her seat. His blue eyes seemed to bore into her as he mused. "My name... well, I guess you can call me-" Indecisive seemed to flit across his features for a moment, before he took a deep breath and said, simply:

"Howl."

Sophie's seat nearly toppled. "Howl?" she breathed, incredulous. "Horrible Howl?"

She knew enough about town gossip, and had lived for enough years at Market Chipping to know what they said about Horrible Howl. The man seemed to grimace for a second before he laughed it off.

"Ah, no, not that Howl. My name is Howl Jenkins."

Sophie looked at his apologetic face, listened to the warm chuckle. "I'm really just a traveler passing through Market Chipping," he assured her, and Sophie calmed down.

"Of course." She was overreacting. Why would Horrible Howl be so quick to divulge his identity? But still, her words came less easily than before. "Okay…H-Howl, then." Sophie couldn't help but think about Georgina Rice and what had happened to her as she uttered that name. Still, this man was too nice, too generous with his time to be someone like Horrible Howl, whom she imagined was old and wicked, eating young girls' hearts for no reason at all.

Howl leaned down toward her, heavy lashes shadowing his cheeks. Unfortunately, Sophie's own cheeks felt hot.

"Well," Howl declared. "I should get going. You close shop and get some rest, too."

Sophie nodded. One day with this intriguing man called Howl was ending. She had planned to get to know him better, but now had a niggling suspicion that this man would always remain mysterious and unknown, even to one who wanted to understand him and what he occupied himself with. Freedom, was it? It seemed so different from her own life, and yet, Sophie felt a closer kinship than ever.

Howl mock-saluted playfully. "See you tomorrow, Sophie."

That was day one with Howl Jenkins.

She smiled back, crookedly.

He winked at her, before crossing the room and going to the door.

There was such a great deal I didn't know about him.

The little chime at the door 'dinged' as Howl walked out and closed the door behind him. Sophie sighed as she leaned back and thought about that day. Howl was a definite asset to the shop, and while what they'd earned so far wasn't quite so much that it could save her father's shop, Sophie was grateful. Grateful from deep within her heart. Because here was a man who thought this shop a grand adventure. Perhaps Sophie, even as the eldest of three daughters, could come to find her grand adventure here in her father's store, too.

Yet, I trusted him with everything.

Sophie looked out the windows. Though the dusk was setting on, she thought she could make out Howl's figure, walking away. She tried to not lose sight of him.

Sophie blinked, and it seemed that the night had swallowed him up.


tbc