Lighting a candle I had gotten from the chapel, I made my way to the basement. It was much harder to find my way this time. I had only gone there once when I was a child and that was only because I had gotten lost. I found the hidden door, but I couldn't figure out how to open it. I knocked and a moment later Sebastien opened it.
"How is he?" I asked.
"He's terrified." Sebastien replied, quickly leading me inside and shutting the door, "When you left, he sat in that corner and hasn't moved since. I gave him food, but he won't eat it. I tried taking that sack off his face to give him water, but everytime I did he kicked me."
"Alright, I'll feed him. I brought some more food, anyway." I said. I set my bundle on the bed. "I need you to grab one of the buckets down here and get me some warm water. Warm, not cold, not hot, and a couple of clean towels. Oh, and some clean cloths for him to wear."
"Where am I going to get all that?" Sebastien asked.
"Check the laundry room a floor above the chapel." I said. "Besides, I think he's scared of you."
"Be careful, Marguerite!" Sebastien said, "I don't trust him. I think he's dangerous."
"Go!" I cried.
Sebastien left the room, closing the door behind him. I picked up the bundle of food and walked over to where the dirty boy sat next to Sebastien's bucket of cold drinking water. I sat next to the boy and opened up my cloak. I picked up a piece of bread and offered it to him. He simply stared at it.
"Go ahead, it's food." I said. He still didn't take it. "You must be hungry. There's plenty here for you."
Slowly, he reached out his hand and gently took the bread from my hands. He wouldn't remove his sack, but slipped the food inside it so he could eat. He ate quickly. I had been right, he was ravenous. When he finished the rest of the bread, I could tell he was looking at the rest of the food in the cloak.
"Go on," I said, "It's all for you."
He reached out and took the slices of apple I had. As he began eating, I walked over to the bed to grab my two gloves. The one was bloodstained and the other was clean. I dipped the clean glove into the bucket of water to wet it. It was useless to me now. I wrung it out and wipped the dry blood off of the scrap the poor boy had on his knee. He still didn't say a word.
A while later, Sebastien came back with the things I had asked for. "Thank you," I said, taking it from him. "You can go to bed now."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'll be fine!" I said, "The poor thing isn't going to hurt me. He's frightened is all."
Sebastien eyed him nervously. "I'll be in the next room. If you need anything, just holler."
I rolled my eyes. "Good night, Sebastien!" I cried, shutting the door behind him. I sat down next to the boy again, watching him as he ate. He didn't stop until the entire cloak was free of food.
"Did you eat enough?" I asked him. He nodded. "Are you sure? I could go and get you some more if you want some. Do you?"
He shook his head no. "Ok," I said, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
I picked him up and carried him across the room. I took off the filthy clothing he was wearing, which was dirty and bloody, and tossed it aside. He sat down on the floor as I wet one of the towels and began to wash off all the filth that was on him, which wasn't an easy job. But, I could tell as I gave him his bath, he was beginning to trust me.
I knew, however, that I needed to wash his face. It didn't seem right to just remove the burlap sack from his face, so I placed my hands on his now clean shoulders and asked him.
"I want to wash your face, too." I said, "Can I take this sack off?"
He shook his head violently. I knew this wouldn't be easy.
"I promise, I won't say anything about your face."
Still, he shook his head. He gripped the bottom of the sack with his hands. I took his hands in mine. Now I had an understanding of how my nanny felt when I gave her a hard time.
"Please," I asked, "I just want to help you."
He thought for a moment. At first, I thought it was a lost cause, but slowly he nodded. I placed my hands on the bottom of the sack and carefully pulled it off of his head.
The first time I had seen his face that day, it was as if I had been kicked in the stomach. This time, since I had already seen it, I made no reaction to it. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. "That's better, isn't it. I bet you can see better now."
As I looked at him, I noticed he had streaks of tears on his face. I wet the towel again and began washing off the dirt and blood. As the mud began to wash away, he looked much more calm and peaceful. He didn't seem as afraid anymore.
Once he was completely clean, I brought over the dry towel and dried him off. His skin was a milky white color, having rarely seen sunlight I imagined. I brought over the trousers and shirt that Sebastien had brought us and dressed him. When I had finished, I looked him over. "Look at you!" I said, "You're so handsome now that we got all that filth off of you."
He said nothing to me. He looked at me with his deformed face and grief-stricken eyes. I took him in my arms and held him. He rested his head on my shoulders. "It's alright," I said, "You're safe here, now. No one is going to hurt you. And you will never have to see those evil gypsies again.
I lifted him onto my lap and rocked him gently. He wrapped his arms, hugging me. He fell asleep after a while. I stood up, carrying him. I laid him down in the bed and pulled the covers over him. I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him sleep for a while.
"I never knew what great maternal instincts you had." someone behind me whispered.
I turned and found Dimitri, in his nightcloths, standing in the door way. He set his candle holder down and walked over to me. "I thought I might find you down here," he said, "How did you get him to take the sack off?"
"He trusts me," I whispered.
"He doesn't look so terrifying now that he's clean." he said.
"He doesn't look terrifying at all, Dimitri!" I corrected.
"Why are you so protective of him?" Dimitri asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"I don't know," I said, "Maybe it's because... well, I always wanted a little brother and mine died when he was just a day old."
"What are we going to do with him?" he asked.
"We?" I asked.
"Of course we," he said, "You can't do this alone, Marguerite."
We moved off the bed and sat on the floor together. As Dimitri sat, he picked up the little monkey doll that had been left on the floor. "What's this?" he asked.
"This is his," I said. I placed it in the little boy's arms as he slept. "Remember, he brought it with him."
I rested my head on Dimitri's shoulder. I was rather tried, "Well, my plan is we'll keep him down here until the gypsies are gone. Then... we'll think of something a little more permanent."
"Like where?" Dimitri asked. "The orphanage won't take him and the opera house won't let him stay here."
"Not knowingly anyway." I said.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"We could keep him here! In the opera house," I answered, "He'll be safe here. I'll take care of him. Will you help me?"
Dimitri took a deep breath, "Of course I will."
I smiled a small grin. I closed my eyes and before I knew it, I was asleep.