And here's chapter four.
The Past Comes Home chapter four: A New Life
This chapter skips around some, hitting some of the more important parts of Illya's life. The part where she meets Sean is shortened because of the chapter in "Scrambles" that covers her past.
Five years later, the young teen watched as passengers were loaded onto the large ship. She had watched this dock and its ship for years, learning everything about it from the crew members to areas she could use as an entrance. This was it. She had to get on this boat set sail for America. She had saved up as much money as she could between her travels from her homeland to Italy. Now she would finally be free. Now was her chance, and she took it, making her way onto the ship and down to the lower level.
There she found a suitable hiding place close to a bathroom. There she would spend the four week trip hoping no one would find the white furred girl.
On the third week of the voyage Illya decided to go exploring. After climbing two decks she heard voices and began heading away from them. Rounding a corner she ran face first into another teenager. He had clasped his arms around her. After a short conversation, Sean, the teen she had ran into, invited her to join him for diner. He had promised not to turn her in, so she accepted.
That meeting had went well and was filled with delicious food. They had talked, really about nothing. She had learned he was from Ireland and had been in the military, though he wouldn't talk any about that. After their meeting she hadn't seen him again, but occasionally found rolled napkins of food on the last three days of the trip. Finally the ship reached land and they docked. From there she decided to look for a job, and begin her new life.
"New York. This must be how the immigrants felt the first time they had freedom. Now," she thought looking around. "Where to start?"
The next year, in the small town of Seymour, Indiana, Illya had started her new life easily. After settling down here she began perfecting her English and to take a few night courses at the local high school, where she had decided to study law. Her main goals were to get her GED and find a good job. A year later, she had her GED and a high school degree in law, now she was working at a law firm and studying to get her private investigator's licence.
During her time in America, Illya had learned there were others like her. Others whose outside appearances did not comply with the norm. There wasn't many here in this town, but most of the citizen's were friendly and accepting. Most of them. There were a few, though, in her neighborhood who would express their feelings strongly towards her. She didn't let them get to her. All her life growing up she had hidden from the world. That had gotten her mother, and possibly her mother's best friend, killed. She would no longer hide. Whenever she would get depressed about it she would think back to that night of the crossing when she had first met someone like her. He had been tall with short bronze hair, raspberry skin, pointy ears, and sharp canines that could only be seen when he smiled. And he had smiled often that night.
"Miss Polav," a kind voice spoke ending her thoughts, "I need that file on the Smith versus Coldman case."
"I've got that right here, sir." She handed the older, whiter haired man the requested file. "Anything else?"
"If you wouldn't mind going down to that nice little café and pick me up a latte, I'd greatly appreciate it." He handed her the change and extra. "Get something for yourself as well."
"Thank you, sir," she said walking out of the one story building in down town Seymour. The café was only a block away, and a pleasant walk as well. This life she had was great, but something still felt like it was missing. She walked into the café, ordered the latte and a bagel for herself, all the while reviewing for her PI exam tonight.
"Cynthia, is Miss Polav in?" Mr. Mathersons asked through the intercom.
"She just came in, sir. Would you like me to send her in?" the young secretary asked as she viewed the cat-like PI leaning a slim hip against her desk.
"Yes," came the short reply. Cynthia sighed.
"I'll never be as good a secretary as you were, Illya."
"Yes, you will, Cy. It takes time. I didn't think I'd make an investigator, but...I did," Illya said sweetly. The twenty year old Russian had settled in well to this life and soon after receiving her GED had become a private investigator. "Guess I'd better get in there."
"Can I just say something?" the younger woman asked. "I love your accent." Illya just laughed and walked through the door.
"Ah, Illya. Good to see you. How have you been?" Mr. Mathersons asked.
"I'm good, Chuck. And you?"
"Fine, fine. I called you here on...uh...personal matter." Illya's head crocked. "I received a letter from an important law firm in Chicago. They've informed me they have been looking for a good private investigator. I told them I had the best." Illya just stared at him. "Illya, they want you to come to work for them."
"In Chicago," she gasped.
"The pay is better than anything you'd ever get here." He saw the look on her face. "Illya, I know this has been the only place you've set foot in since you left your home. And I know how scary it can be moving to such a big city, being use to small towns like this." He smiled and patted her hand fatherly. "You'll be fine. You'll see." Then she smiled. "And if..." he went on, "you get there and you don't like your new surroundings, there's always a place for you here." Her fears subsided, Illya stood, shaking hands with Chuck.
She took the papers and said, "Guess I had better packing." And smiling warmly, she left. Off to a new life.
End chapter four. The fifth and final in this story coming. This one really jumps, but you'll understand at the end why. Maybe some of you have guessed it already.
