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Chapter 2
Ali sighed happily as she sank into the tub of warm water. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a real bath. Picking up the bath products, she first washed her body and face, and then her hair, which created a murky brown cloud in the water. When she deemed the job adequately done, she stood and stepped out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around her slim frame.
She examined herself in the mirror over the sink. Her skin was pink from scrubbing, and her hair was still in tangles. But she was clean! No dirt, no sweat; just freshness.
A few painful minutes with a brush and an alarming automatic dryer sorted her hair. That done, she walked into the adjoining bedroom—her bedroom!—to find a simple blue dress on the bed. Sarah had insisted on washing her old clothes, saying she would find something else for Ali to wear. "I'm sure I have a few things leftover from when I was younger," she had said.
Of course, Ali had had to beg Sarah to let her keep her old clothes, including the wad of fabric in her coat pocket, instead of throwing them out. She knew they were practically rags, but they were all she had left of her old life.
Ali slipped the dress over her head. It was loose on her torso, and the skirt hung past her ankles. Still, it was more than she had expected to get.
I didn't expect this opportunity at all, in fact. It seems almost too lucky. Ali shook her head and grabbed a ribbon that had sat next to the dress, tying it over the fabric and around her waist. I'll just take it one day at a time. Better to be cautious for now.
Deciding she looked as decent as could be managed, she slipped out the door and started down the hallway. The floor up here was carpeted. Ali winced; that would make dusting harder. Maybe Ms. Sarah knew some tricks for handling it…
Lost in thoughts of her new duties, Ali didn't see the second person charging across the floor until he ran into her, knocking her down and landing right on top of her.
"Oh, shoot!" The boy exclaimed, scrambling off of her. "I'm sorry. Are you ok?"
Ali looked the boy over. He looked about her age, with dark brown hair and enormous blue eyes. And right now, those eyes were reflecting his worried questions.
She picked herself up off the floor. "I'm all right. Why were you going so fast, though?"
The boy gave a sheepish smile. "Well, I was kinda looking for you."
Instantly her guard was up. "M-me?"
"Yep. You're Ali, right?"
"How did you—"
"I listened in when you and Mom were talking. So you're working here now?"
Ali hesitated. "That's right."
"That's cool, I guess. I'm Jim, by the way," the boy said with another smile.
"Nice to meet you."
Jim took in her face, noting the differences from earlier that morning. Without all the muck he could see that her hair was blonde, and her eyes were a dark green. She still looked too skinny, though.
"Jim!" Sarah's voice called from downstairs. "What's all the noise about?" She made her way up the stairs, smiling when she spotted the two kids. "Oh good, you've met."
"We just ran into each other, Mom," added Jim.
"Literally," Ali muttered to herself. But Sarah heard the comment.
"Literally?" She turned to Jim, one eyebrow raised.
"Uhhh, yeah." Jim scuffed his shoe on the floor. "I was looking for her, but I was kind of going fast, and I sort of…knocked her over."
"James Pleiades Hawkins, what have I told you about running in the halls?"
"To not to," Jim mumbled.
"Maybe you've learned your lesson this time. Now, you should apologize to Ali."
"I already did." He turned to Ali. "I did, right?"
Ali nodded. "Yes, you did."
Sarah sighed. "All right. Actually, Ali, I was coming to check up on you myself. I want to find out which dishes you already know how to cook. Will you come downstairs with me?"
"Yes, Ms. Sarah."
"Good. Follow me."
"Hey Ali!" Jim piped up. "I'll see you later, ok?" He flashed her a grin.
Ali managed a small smile in return before turning to follow Sarah. "See you." Just one day at a time.
ooOoo
The alarm clock beeped insistently, making the girl nearby roll over and groan. She slowly sat up and reached over, smacking the top of the clock into silence.
Ali yawned, pushing gold strands of hair out of her eyes. She shuddered when her feet touched the cold floor of her bedroom; but she smiled as she pulled a dress out of her closet. After two days of tripping over the hem of the first dress, Sarah had taken her to get fitted for new clothes. They had returned to the inn with three dresses, two nightgowns, socks, underwear (which Ali had hid under the rest of the purchases), and a pair of sturdy boots. Despite her lingering timidity, Ali couldn't help giving Sarah a grateful hug, which the woman had returned with a startled laugh.
Today she chose a green dress that matched her eyes. All the dresses had been given intentionally loose bodices, and after two weeks of proper meals Ali had filled them out. She was still skinny, but no more so than many girls her age.
Slipping on her socks and boots, Ali headed down to the front room to clean off the tables before breakfast. A clattering from the kitchen made her turn around. Sarah walked through the doors, tying her hair into a ponytail as she moved.
"Oh Ali, you're up! Thank you, I forgot about doing the tables."
"Of course, Ms. Sarah."
"But where's Jim? He's supposed to be helping." Sarah frowned. "I'd bet my apron he's still asleep. Would you go and check on him?"
"Ummm…" Ali wasn't sure about poking around in a boy's room. "Well…"
"Please, Ali? I'm heating things down here that I can't move far from."
Ali sighed. "Yes, Ms. Sarah." She climbed the stairs to the second floor and over to Jim's room, which was just three doors down from hers. When she reached his door, she knocked timidly. "Jim?"
No answer. She put her ear to the door and listened, then had to stifle a laugh. It was soft but unmistakable: the sound of snoring.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked more insistently. "Jim! Your mom will be mad if you're not up soon." An incoherent mumble was the only response. "Please?" She thought for a moment, and then added, "I'll make you my special cinnamon toast."
The door was thrown open five seconds later, revealing a rumpled-looking Jim. "Really?" His eyes were bleary but hopeful behind the bangs that framed both sides of his face.
"Really. Although you're not helping anyone by sleeping in every day." Ali immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, regretting her slip-up.
Jim frowned. Ali had been doing this kind of thing since she arrived. She'd be very careful and polite with her words, and then whenever she said something more opinionated she would panic. "You know, you're not going to get in trouble here for speaking your mind. You should say what you mean, you know? Well," he amended with an impish smile, "you should probably be careful around some of our crankier guests."
Ali giggled at that. "I just…don't want to offend anyone."
"I'm not offended when you speak your mind. Actually, I like it better than the polite act. And I bet Mom does too."
Ali's eyes were wide with disbelief. So few people had wanted to know her real opinion. Only two other people, in fact. Her eyes stung at the thought, but she firmly held back the tears.
"Ali! Is Jim up yet?" Sarah's voice made Ali jump and peer over the staircase. She opened her mouth, but Jim answered for her.
"Yeah Mom, I'm up. I'll be down soon."
"Well, hurry up. You need to help Ali with washing tables."
"What?" Jim's face was comically dismayed as he turned to Ali. "You only mentioned the toast!"
"I didn't say you'd get it for free," she responded with a giggle. "I'll meet you down there."
The boy wanted honesty. It was worth a try.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Yes, I know not much has happened so far; but these past two chapters are laying the groundwork for the rest of the story. I want to spend some time on character development before getting to the beginning of the movie. Things will start to happen in the next chapter, though, a sort of teaser before some real drama comes out.
Fun fact: Jim's middle name, Pleiades, refers to a cluster of seven stars, and the word "Pleiades" is derived from the Greek "plein," which means "to sail." Fitting, eh?
