Chapter 6

Fredricx laid on his back, awake in their apartment. Ettie was asleep. On the other hand, he had not slept. It was mostly dark. Ettie would be up soon, and he had already resolved to spend the morning assisting her and the afternoon searching for at least temporary labor.

Their bed did not feel like its soft, welcoming self. Instead, it was as if he was lying on warm brick. He was exhausted. His mind could only think of their depleting pantry and the looming threat of rent.

Homeless didn't last long in Yharham. Workhouses were inhuman, separating genders and working them essentially all hours of the day to be allowed a spot on the ground in a cramped building. There were other options, spending a couple of pence a night to sleep in a wooden box. This way, the poor already had a coffin to be buried in. The Healing Church also had an option for the poor if their blood was rich. The greatest of these options was a slummy apartment even though they already lived in one. It would be smaller, darker, and dirtier.

As Fredricx's thoughts stirred around in his conscious, Ettie stirred awake. She let out a mixture of a grown and a yawn.

"Are you still awake, Fredricx?" she asked, flipping over to him. Her hand made contact with his bare chest.

He held her slender fingers. "I am."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"No."

"It will be okay somehow," she scooted closer. Her body was pleasantly warm against him. They stayed like this for long moments. Fredricx felt himself relax a little.

"I'm getting up." Ettie pulled away from him, stood, and began to redress.

Fredricx got up, stretched his back and neck and selected clothes. Something crisper would be needed to be selected. His nicest shirt was black without sweat or dirt stains. The collar was still clean. He slid his arms into the sleeves and buttoned the shirt. It was a little small around his arms and chest. Fredricx had grown stronger since starting at the shipyard.

Next, he selected and put on grey pants. They weren't worn in the knees, and the ends weren't stained from the salt of the ocean. Given that he only had one pair of suspenders, they were selected, but Fredricx took extra care to make sure they were straight and even. Shoes were also an easy to choose after socks were slipped on.

Using Ettie's soft brush, he raked his hair, bringing on that headache again. The ruddy color fell to the floor. He used small bits of cloth to carefully tie back his hair. One at the base of his skull and the other toward the end. He could feel his beard was scruffy. That could be dealt with later, but he went ahead and put a small pouch containing a razor and a small portion of soap into a leather pouch.

Ettie had long been dressed. She wore a long sleeved shirt that buttoned to her neck, and a sort of apron skirt. It looped around her neck, wrapped completely around her back, and tied in the front. It stopped at the right length to reveal black boots. Her hair was pulled back with a long handkerchief. A couple of curls framed her face. He was unsure if it was intentional or not.

"Are you going to eat breakfast?" she turned to face him, holding two plates.

"No."

"You need to eat, Fredricx. You didn't eat dinner last night."

"I'll take it with me," he accepted the plate, wrapped it up the contents with paper along with a fork, and slipped it into his small leather bag. Fredricx sat as she ate as he had done the night before. Within a few minutes, she was finished.

He snatched up the cumbersome basket of others' clothes and followed Ettie outside. It was surprisingly heavy. How could Ettie carry it?

They walked to the public bathhouse. Fredricx took the clothes with him on the men's side. Making use of the amenities, he found himself staring at the mirror. He looked presentable like an industrial man. He looked like someone worthy of respect.

Dampening his face, he scrubbed with the soap. Applying it to his beard, he cleaned the edges, creating neater lines and trimming his mustache at his lip. After rinsing, he felt a small surge of confidence.

He heaved the large basket up, after packing his razor and such, and made his way back to the gate. Ettie was waiting and gave him a small smile, "Someone looks handsome."

Fredricx offered a tired smile, finally feeling the lack of sleep start to drain him.

They headed toward the opposite side of Yharham that Fredricx normally frequented. In fact, Fredricx never headed against the docks. They lived in the center of Yharham, and most of Ettie's clients were in the old section of town.

On their way, they passed the Healing Church. A crowd of people had already assembled at the doors. These people had something missing in their eyes. Most of them were obviously sick. Some coughed, wheezed, or bled. Others were emaciated. Some were wrapped in bandages. Others appeared to have nothing wrong with them at all.

"How is Lucas doing?" Ettie asked, eyeing the people in line. They eyed back as the two of them hustled by. The Baffling Sickness wasn't contagious by air, but a host of other diseases were.

"He has whooping cough."

"What can be done?" she asked. Once past the church, they were in Old Yharham. The town almost immediately opened up. The sky was far more visible. There were even patches of green. Small trees and flowers sparsed the stone roads. Through this area, the roads comfortably fit horse drawn carriages, and they were plentiful.

"He can seek blood ministration," Fredricx answered, readjusting the basket. Even his arms were beginning to ache from the weight.

"Will he?" She took a turn down a side road. Fredricx could see the manor at the end of the street.

"I do not know."

They approached the main gate. It was made of tall wrought iron. It's intricate details flaunted immense wealth. However, they avoided this gate, and Fredricx followed Ettie to the left, along the fence. They rounded a corner and walked along the side of the garden and eventually the house. About three-quarters of the length of the fence, they found a small gate. Ettie opened it and held it open for Fredricx, who went inside. They walked a small stone path to the back of the house and entered a back door.

Immediately, all of the people inside the small room stopped, staring at Fredricx. They had entered into a kitchen. Five people had been busting around and suddenly froze.

"Ettie!" a small, blonde woman exclaimed loudly, "Who is this handsome man?"

"This is Fredricx," Ettie replied, obviously embarrassed as she stammered slightly.

The small woman's lip popped into a pout, "How disappointing. I was hoping he was the new gardener."

Ettie turned to Fredricx, "I'm going to put the clothes away. You can stay here." She then shifted her attention to the woman, "Julie, can you assist me?"

"Sure!" there was a brilliant smile as Julia bounded after Ettie, who had taken the basket from him earlier.

The rest of the group stared for another moment and then went back to what they had been doing. The kitchen was spacious and bright, filled with fresh food. There were no scrambled eggs insight. Instead, it appeared that breakfast consisted of small flour cakes dressed in liquid sugar, ham with onions and peppers, and fresh fruit cut meticulously into a salad.

Within the hour, Ettie and Julia reappeared. The basket was full again, and the two women were giggling.

"Time for me to get going," Ettie said to Julie, "I am cleaning the Jenkins' manor today."

"I can't see how you work for them," she shook her head.

Ettie smiled, glancing at Fredricx, "They pay me well."

The two of the exited the way they came and entered again into Yharham's streets. In this section of town, there wasn't much evidence of the Scourge. It still plagued the area, but it was cleared up much quicker. Money equaled health and cleanliness.

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Fredricx carried the basket again for Ettie. It was not empty. This time, instead of folded, fresh smelling clothes, the basket contained stained and strewn garments. More for Ettie to launder.

The Jenkins' manor was far more impressive than the last. It seemed like a fortress on the outside with a tall, brick fence and beautifully guarded windows of decorative wrought iron. The inside was nothing short of lavish. The floors shined. Light poured in from many directions, making everything wash white. Furniture looked as if to be looked at. It didn't appear to have ever been used before.

Feeling uncomfortably out of place, Fredricx caught Ettie's attention before she disappeared into another room. "I'm going back into town. I want to check out the public boards."

"Okay, I'll see you at home later," Ettie gave a small smile, taking the basket from Fredricx. They embraced for just a moment.

"Okay, see you at home."

Fredricx exited the manor and headed back to Central Yharham. The public boards were near a clinic, a couple of minutes walk from their apartment. The clinic offered more experimental blood treatment for charity. It was a sort of testing grounds for the Healing Church, but the two groups were not the same and were not always on the best terms with another.

The boards were still standing from the previous hunt. They were basically wooden signposts that people would nail flyers. Some were lost and found. Some offered services. However, Fredricx was interested in job postings.

A few other people milled in front of the boards. They glanced backwards at Fredricx as he approached. It was clear what was being thought.

Literacy wasn't common among the working class. In fact, most of the shiphands couldn't read. It was a skill of the wealthy or the lucky. Fredricx fell into that second group. The mistress that Lucas's mother nannied for was gracious, and she taught Lucas to read. Lucas taught Fredricx from there.

After the bafflers sidestepped, Fredricx had a clear look at the board. Some of the headlines caught his attention, but were not particularly useful:

"Hiring woman under 30 as live in nanny. Roland Residence."

"Looking for young boys to train as chimney sweeps. No pay. Food and rent included. Come by Central Yharham."

"Small fingers needed in textile factory. 10 pence per day."

"Post Scourge crew. Pay is 5 shillings per day needed. Inquire at marketplace center."

Other headlines were more useful than the previous.

"Soldier types needed for night time security work. 1 shilling per night. Off on Sunday. Inquire at Roux Estate."

"Temporary construction work in cathedral courtyard area. Half a shilling per day."

Fredricx took the security flier off of the board and pocketed it. As he was about to turn and start once again for Old Yharham, a flyer, tucked and tattered in the corner, grabbed his attention. The lettering was scratched on the paper in unattractive handwriting. It seemed to have been written in a rush or with no concern. It was hardly legible.

"Hunters. Blood ministration. Kill. Glory. Gold. See inside."

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