Watching the world trundle by from within the warmth and safety of the carriage, Mélanie observed the towering trees and rolling hills before her, wonderstruck at the magnificence of it all. She had never seen a mountain before, but now these great precipices stood before her with a reach so high it almost seemed as if they would pierce through the sky itself. There was still a firm chill in the air, but everywhere one looked the signs of new life emerging from the depths of winter could be found stirring little by little. This world fascinated her, and seemed a far cry from the tiny village abreast the vineyards which had housed the first few years of her life. Where there had once been dirty streets and the stench of animal waste there was only country roads and the scent of pine beginning to make itself known through the cold clutches of winter. Yet still, there was something about this wildness that although beautiful, struck a tune of fear within Mélanie as she observed it unfold before her. For the longest time past the boundary of the homestead, there was nothing but these same woods and trees, making her wonder how Achilles knew where he was going as he drove the carriage from up front with his mare pulling all the while. Strange animals and creatures never seen before occasionally cropped up and Mélanie felt certain that they were all dangerous, not to mention the threat of the natives and their savage ways constantly lingering in the back of her mind. She had heard such stories that would have given any child nightmares of their brutish treatment of the settlers and colonists, pillaging, murdering and burning their way through the settlements one by one without restraint. Did Achilles have no fear of being attacked on this road?
He never seemed to be afraid, in fact at this moment he was whistling a tune to a song that Mélanie did not know, and so she listened to it for a while before she could hum it in turn to quietly join him whilst huddled within a blanket whilst some kind of animal pelt lay draped over her knees. It always confounded her why Achilles insisted upon bundling her up so heavily, but with his terrible French and her increasing understanding of English, he would always tell her that it was important that she stayed warm, so Mélanie never complained about the musty smell or the fact that she felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon in so many layers and accepted the kind old man's charity since he had been so good to her for the better part of half a year. To pass the time Mélanie would find means to entertain herself, one such way as trying to copy Achilles and teaching herself to whistle, but try as she might she fared ill in her endeavour, but she reasoned that it was something that merely required practice and did not grow frustrated with herself. Once she was tired of this, she made a nest upon the floor of the carriage with all her blankets and furs in order to sleep for a while as the motion of the carriage was beginning to make her feel nauseous, and the sleep staved off the oncoming tiredness so once they had finally arrived at the place Achilles called 'Boston', Mélanie was wide awake and ready to view everything before her with a ravenous hunger to view this New World that she had been brought to by sea.
It was nothing compared to the grand city of Paris which Mélanie recalled to be a vibrant and lively city dedicated to art, music and fashions where enough of it existed so that one did not entirely notice the depravity of the wealthy or the misfortune of the poor, so for a while Mélanie was left sorely disappointed. She had gone with her maman and papa once or twice when there had been a need to travel with their village's wine, and seeing such a large, populated place for the first time had stunned Mélanie into silence. There had been houses upon houses built up high, streets teaming with people calling out their wares whilst one walked through sloshing mud, waste and dirty water that lay rampant in the streets. It had been both marvellous and disgusting, but here Mélanie was met with something she could only describe as a large town with many buildings still only partially completed and nothing of Paris's excitement and splendour to redeem itself from the dull pallor of market that lacked any kind of spirit and jubilation. However, it was a great deal cleaner here compared to Paris, perhaps because the inhabitants had yet to live there long enough to dirty the streets into such a state.
Mélanie was startled by the military presence, not having expected so many men in brilliantly hued red coats and polished buttons with their long firearms and the sound of their marching in unison to the beat of a heavy drum. Perhaps they were here to guard the people from the natives. It made Mélanie feel at the very least a little safer for she had heard some rather wild and terrifying tales of the natives that once dominated these lands, that they were a savage bunch that ate the flesh of good Christians and killed many a stray traveller without hesitation. They were no better than demons, wild and untamed, savages. So with these stories ratting around in her head, Mélanie was glad to know that there were soldiers about and smiled to her guardian as Achilles helped her down from the carriage, keeping a blanket wrapped about her still very small body so that she would not take a chill before kneeling down as best he could so that he was face to face with the child. "Mélanie, you must stay close to me. Do you understand? You cannot go far, for it is very dangerous in this place and if you become lost, it would be near impossible to find you again. Hold my hand and hold on tightly. Yes?"
"Yes monsieur. I understand." Mélanie agreed, understanding his tone more than his words for her papa had also used such a voice when warning Mélanie not to do something and not to stray too far from himself and her maman. Holding the folds of the blanket together in one hand, Mélanie took hold of Achilles's in the other, the mittens that he had found for her keeping her fingers toasty and pleasantly warm within the fur lined glove. Mélanie had often wondered how Achilles had found so many clothes in her size when he lived alone. They were all boy's clothing, which had been odd for her to wear at first until Achilles had managed to explain that he did not have any girl's clothes in his house, so Mélanie accepted that unless she wanted to walk around stark naked, these clothes were her only choice. They were not too old but it was clear that no one had worn them for a very long time and some of them had required mending which Mélanie had diligently done with the skills taught by her mother. Part of her wished to ask Achilles who the clothes belonged to, but then every time she made to try, a certain feeling would repress the urge, as if instinctively knowing that to ask would bring sadness to the kind old man, and that was something she did not want. So with her hand securely held in Achilles's larger, stronger hand, the two walked forwards to the docks where Mélanie busied herself with looking at her surroundings, intrigued by everything though the pungent smell of fish was somewhat undesirable. "Where we go?"
"We are first going to take you to a doctor so that he might take a look at your old injuries, and then we shall go in search of an acquaintance of mine. I am hoping that he will be able to help us find some information about what happened to the ship that you arrived in and the passengers it carried." Immediately her head shot up to stare up at the old man.
"Maman et papa?"
"Yes child, perhaps we will find them alive if fortune smiles upon you, but I strongly doubt it. Remember what I told you. You must be prepared for either outcome." Gulping down the feeling of a stone wedging itself into her throat, Mélanie gripped onto Achilles with greater urgency and hurried by his side so that they might seek out the information she needed to learn the truth sooner. The doctor, a warm-gazed elderly man who had hair the colour of snow, was very gentle and soothing as he had Mélanie sit before him and even spoke French with enough competency that he could direct her as he needed to show him her arm which before had been broken, as well as allow him to listen to the sound of her breathing and inspect the other injuries that seemed to have healed well.
Her fingers were beyond repair, heavily laden with scars that still appeared fresh and raw. Some of her nails had in fact began to regrow, however the nail of her little finger on her right hand seemed to be lost forever. At the very least, her broken arm had been reset and treated remarkably well, as even with all his feeling and prodding, the kindly doctor could find no abnormalities or flaws in the bone's structure so satisfied himself that the child's arm would give her no troubles in the future but warned that should the arm ever break again, it would be considerably weaker and may not ever return to normal thereafter. The doctor also announced that the child should also be aware that she was still recovering from the physical trauma of that night which Achilles had described to him as much as he was able from Mélanie's vague recounting of the wreckage, which meant that proper rest and care should be taken for another few months at least. "It is good that spring and summer is on its way. Let her regain her strength under the warmth of the summer sun with good, clean air to fill her lungs, and she'll be right as rain come fall. I would say that her size and weight for her age was also a concern though considering the life she must have left it is not unusual to find children more than half the size and weight they should be, but from what I understand, she has gained a considerable amount whilst under your care. You are to be commended, good sir." The doctor praised Achilles who listened intently upon every word.
"She gives me no trouble. I was surprised to learn her true age for I believed she could have been no older than four, but to discover she was nearing ten years of age…her body must have suffered from the lack of nourishment in the past."
"Indeed. Well, it should be noted that with an increase of proper nourishment, Mademoiselle Mélanie will begin to grow rather quickly, especially in the summer months. She will likely be in pain due to the sudden growth, but it is nothing to worry over. I can prescribe some medicine for her fingers, merely apply the salve and keep them bandaged as you have to stay off infection, and ensure that she remains warm and dry. Another illness such as the one she suffered may be her last. I would not tempt fate." The doctor warned as Mélanie blinked up at the two of them, thinking that it was most unfair that they were speaking so quickly and quietly so that it was difficult for her to understand. At most she knew that they were talking about her, for their eyes glanced her way repeatedly, but there seemed to be no cause for alarm in their tones, so she sat quietly and neatly in patience until they were done.
Having spoken his piece with Achilles, the doctor then explained everything he could in French so that Mélanie could have a proper understanding of the condition of her body and what she needed to do in order to ensure that she got better, which caused a bright smile upon her face to be able to converse fluently in her own language. She asked many questions which the doctor translated, as Mélanie wanted to know many things that she did not yet know the words in English for her to ask. She questioned Achilles about how he had found her, how long exactly she had been under his care, where the house on the hill was situated in relation to this city, and numerous other things that until now, had been resting in the back of her mind to be taken up at a later date. It was easier not that they had a translator, and Mélanie could finally properly express her thanks and gratitude to the man who had saved her life, as well as ask if there was any chance at all that she could continue to stay with him at the homestead, for the New World frightened her and she did not wish to suddenly find herself alone. "We shall see, child. First, we shall enquire after the fate of you parents and if they truly have perished…then we shall have to decide what to do next." The doctor translated Achilles's words which brought a glassy look to the child's eyes as they filled with tears. Months of suppressed emotion and buried fears came creeping back as the weight of her reality came crashing down upon her, and before long she was bawling without restraint and sobbing much to the alarm of the two men.
The doctor hurried to find a means of calming the child whilst Achilles knelt and patted her head but the offer of affectionate consolation only drew Mélanie closer to him, whereby she flung her willowy arms no thicker than reeds about his neck in order to cry into his shoulder. Resigned to his task, Achilles hushed her softly and placed a hand upon he back before beginning to stroke her hair, something that he had found often calmed her whenever she was in distress. "It is clear that she trusts you, Mr Davenport. She was lucky indeed to have strayed across your path that night. The wreckage is still talked about to this day, hundreds of lives lost at sea all in the blink of an eye. In truth, I do not think you hold any hope of finding the child's parents alive and well. To my understanding, not one soul made it out of that tragedy alive." To this the doctor paused and amended himself whilst smiling with sympathy to the girl who continually cried against Achilles. "Well, all but one. Here, I have some peppermints. Give a few to the little lady, something sweet should remedy that which medicine cannot heal for the time being. As for the girl's future…I hope you do not find me insulting, but I hope you understand that it may not be beneficial for her to remain with a man such as yourself. Of course some have no qualms over your heritage, I am a doctor and I will treat anyone no matter their race or colour, but the same cannot be said for all."
"I understand. Thank you for your help, doctor. It is most appreciated." Achilles responded heavily as he managed to push a peppermint into Mélanie's wailing mouth which caused her howls to quell slightly in surprise at the sweet and fresh tasting oddity that had suddenly appeared on her tongue. She quietened down enough for Achilles to be able to lift her up into his arm, struggling for a moment before then taking up his cane. He paid the doctor's fee who wished them both the best of luck before seeing them to the door where Achilles was now faced with his next task. Seeking out his old friend Samuel Adams, he was able to put out requests for information concerning Mélanie's parents, as well as the possibility of someone taking her into a more suitable family environment.
Mélanie was completely unaware of what Achilles was intending, too engrossed with her surroundings to listen to the old man until he had touched her shoulder in order to introduce her to Mr Adams who had a broad smile and a friendly look in his eye. Children had a good sense for what adults were truly like, something that was akin to an instinct, and Mélanie knew that she instinctively liked this Monsieur Adams. "Bonjour Monsieur Adams. I am pleased to meet you." Remembering how Achilles had taught her to greet properly, Mélanie even gave a little curtsey just to be certain that she was seen as a polite child, for she did not wish to disappoint Achilles.
"What a lovely little girl you are, and you speak wonderfully. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, little miss." Samuel chortled richly as he swept a flamboyant bow and kissed the top of Mélanie's mitten-clad hand which earned a tinkling giggle as she returned the gentleman's smile. "I shall do my best Achilles, but I would not hold onto hope. It is unlikely that anyone other than your little treasure there had survived the wreckage otherwise we would have heard about it. As for the other thing you requested…I shall look into it. I'll search for families in the area, that way you will be able to see one another still. Will this do?"
"It is more than enough. Thank you my friend. Come Mélanie, it is time we were away. There are supplies to be bought, then we make for home." Firmly taking hold of the child's hand once more, Mélanie quickly managed to offer a farewell to the man she had just met, though in her haste it came out in a mess of jumbled French and English, making him laugh all the more before waving her off cheerfully. He would send word once he had news, it was agreed, and so Achilles reconciled himself to the fact that possibly very soon, little Mélanie would be moved elsewhere to be raised and he would once more be completely alone in that great old house upon the hill where the child's voice would no longer fill the empty spaces with her chattering and lofty laughter.
It was another month yet before word finally reached them in their little haven away from the rest of the world. Samuel Adams had been thorough in his search and confirmed that no one else had survived the wreckage, which meant that Mélanie truly did not have any parents to speak of that might claim her. Having warned her repeatedly that this might come to pass, Mélanie took the news with a brave face, though her lower lip had trembled as she attempted to bit down on it and keep herself from crying to which Achilles had assured her that it was alright if she wished to cry, so cry she did. She lay her head upon his lap and wept until she was too exhausted to move so stayed in place as Achilles stroked her hair and offered her the occasional word of comfort, promising her that they were in a better place and no matter what, they would be truly grateful that she herself had survived and could now live freely in whatever way she wished. "How you know zis?" Mélanie finally questioned as she lifted her head to look upon Achilles who naturally lifted his hand in order to wipe away the tear stains from her face as her glittering eye fixed themselves upon him. "You know how maman and papa feel?"
"Yes, dear child. Every parent hopes that their child will outlive them and live happily. It is enough that you are here, so no matter where they are, alive or not, they will be content to simply watch over you." It seemed to Mélanie that Achilles was speaking not from fact, but from personal wisdom, and her mind thought once more of the little boy clothes that had been kept locked away in a trunk in the attic until her arrival.
"You 'ave child?" Almost immediately Mélanie regretted the question as the shadow of grief and sorrow cast its reflection upon the old man who flinched with visible pain. Still he answered her, drawing her close with his hand resting atop her head. She had grown, he was certain of it. Achilles could not recall that before now Mélanie had ever stood higher than the arm of his chair.
"A long time ago. I had a son and a wife, but they passed away from sickness and there was nothing I could do. Now it is just I in this old house, but with you here, at least I am not alone." Offering her a smile, Mélanie firmly nodded her head and took hold of Achilles by the hand in order to squeeze his fingers as firmly as she could whilst her unwavering gaze remained focused upon his.
"Yes, I stay here. With you. I look after you Monsieur Davenport. I take good care of you." She vowed passionately with a fiery determination that would never be quelled. Achilles laughed at this, softly and lightly, appreciating the concerns of such a young child over an old fool such as he. He agreed that Mélanie could stay for as long as she wished, though inwardly he believed that soon she would wish for a different situation and a better environment for her to grow in. Samuel had yet been unsuccessful in his search for a family to adopt Mélanie but had yet to give up, informing him that since winter had only just passed, the people were still recovering and adding another mouth to feed was not something desirable for those who struggled to feed themselves already. Secretly Achilles was glad of it, for it meant he had a little more time with the child before he would have to let her go.
"Well then child, perhaps it is time we ate. Did you not leave something to cook in the pot a while ago? It may be bubbling over by now." With a pop of her mouth dropping open, Mélanie leaped to her feet with a panic and fled towards the kitchen in order to rescue the stew that she had made with the fresh meat they had purchased in Boston, her lilting voice carrying as her hair flew behind her in a wild stream of inky black waves.
"Sacre bleu!"
Sacre bleu – Damn it
