"I can't believe that I am doing this," Mr. Shaft groaned as he led Elizabeth up a dark alley way of the vast streets of the Bronx. Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with excitement as they darted to the above tenement buildings and fire escapes.
"Why?" she exclaimed.
"Because....well, there's a number of reasons! Too many to count! Who knows what could happen to us out here." He clambered on and on, keeping a trembling grasp on the cloth of her sleeve.
"Ow! That hurts!" she yelled, shaking him away. She rolled her eyes. "So, what... you weren't exactly the perfect 'upper class gentleman.' Maybe you lived in the slums. I don't care.. all right? Personally.. well, in my opinion." She paused, appearing to collect her thoughts as her eyes fell to the floor. She sighed, "Oh, never mind."
"No, what were you going to say?" Mr. Shaft asked.
Elizabeth groaned, "I said 'never mind.'"
He shrugged and hastily went back to scanning the settings for muggers or any other type of endangerment.
What seemed like hours later they finally came to a stop. Mr. Shaft glowered at the large brown door in the alley. Three tin trashcans laid strewn out throughout the alley and a bony, ash-brown cat sat at one side of the door. It let out a strangled 'meow,' when they grew nearer, and scampered off down the way.
"This was our home."
"Our?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yes, your mother and I lived here. You had not been born yet."
The door creaked squeakily as it slid open. The small apartment was quite run-down, it's ceiling beginning to fall in some places. On one wall stood a small window with pink, ragged curtains thick with dust and mildew. Remnants of candle burns littered a corner of the tiny room. Across from where Elizabeth and Mr. Shaft stood laid a pile of soggy wood. "That's where a staircase once stood leading up to the second floor. There's no way that we could get up there now," he said sadly.
For some extremely odd reason Elizabeth now felt a sense of compassion for her father. He looked so lonely and helpless standing there, staring at the room that was once his home; Elizabeth assumed that this brought back many sad memories, including some about her mother. She patted him gently. "Let's go. The carriage is probably waiting for us."
He nodded solemnly and followed her back out into the alleyway.
