Yay! There are intelligent reviewers out there!
- - - - -
"Red."
The voice again. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the voice by willpower alone. "No. Nìhagh. No!" she fervently whispered to herself. A hand landed on her shoulder, sending chills through her body. She semiconsciously gripped the child tighter, who whimpered in response. The voice spoke again.
"Red. Listen. It's just me."
She opened her eyes, and for the second time, she saw Jack's face against dying embers. As she relaxed slightly, Jack motioned to the child in her arms. "Who is that?"
She loosened her grip. "It's…well…I guess it's one o' dem long stories. We gotta get 'im to bed first, though."
Jack glanced at the drooping eyelids of the small tyke and agreed.
After they had put him down on Red's bunk, with much (ahem) discussion, they had situated themselves around the small table in the tiny kitchen with cups of coffee. Jack spoke first.
"I guess dere's a lotta stuff I could ask ya 'bout, such as what da heck is up wit yer attitude lately and why ya stormed outta here, but dey's kinda connected, so I guess da foist question would be, who's da kid?"
He rushed it all out in one breath, as if he'd been building up to that point. He sighed a bit, took a sip of his drink, and waited.
Red smiled a bit. This question would be the easiest, and of that she was grateful.
"Well, ta make a long story short, I kinda rescued 'im."
Jack rolled his eyes. This would take forever if she intended on being so evasive.
"From what?"
"Uhh…" she seemed a bit uncomfortable to Jack. She obviously didn't want to spill. He was sort of glad. It was good to make her squirm once in a while. "I…uh…a burnin' apartment buildin'."
Jack barely was able to keep his jaw in one place. He coughed and managed to continue.
"I don't know and I really don't wanna know. I won't question dat line any further. Then, uh, what's his name?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. It's not like I knew 'im beforehand."
He shook his head. "Guess we'll find out in da mornin'. Anywho, sumtin' goin' on with dat little red head of yers dat ya haven't tole me bout? Like, oh say, fo' instance, why ya been so reclusive lately?" He had cut straight to the point. Red winced. It felt as if a dart had been shot straight into her heart. When she spoke, it was dotted with hesitation, and since I don't feel like putting all the pauses, I'll just give you the gist of what she said.
"Well, ya see, um. Well, my family died in da fire, ya knew dat, right?" Jack nodded. "Well, um. Gol, dis is hard. Uh, ya see," she hunched over her cup a little more, "I sorta…well…started it."
- - - - -
"Deagh madainn, màthair." Torii trotted from one side of the room to the other, pushing aside a sheet that served as a division between the sleeping half and the living half. The small shack was made of wood, little comfort against the rough sea winds, but this was home. It was the best they could do on her father and her sister's meager salaries at the railyards and silk factories, respectively.
Her mother looked up from the small, rusting, cast-iron stove. "Deagh madainn, mighean. But to talk en English." She smiled to lessen the harshness of her broken English, but it was still true. Her husband wanted her children to learn so they could get better jobs than his. "We learn to fit en heah, a ghrà mo chroí," he had said.
Torii quickly changed her linguistics, still with an Irish brogue. "But why, Màthair? Already I know so much. E gòrach."
Her mother glanced sharply at her youngest daughter. "No Gaelic. Must obey your Athair."
Young Torii got a familiar gleam in her eyes. Her mother saw this and tried to stop her. "Nìhagh, mo nighean," inadvertently reverting to Gaelic. But it was too late.
"What, mudda? Ya wanna buy a pape? Ya wanna me ta talk like dis all da time?"
Her mother started laughing. When her daughter imitated the native New Jersey street vendors, she couldn't help it. By now she had hopped up onto a table, her short arms flailing about as if trying to catch someone's attention.
"Fwesh fwish! Get ya fwesh fwish hea'!" That was Hank, the fish seller with a lisp.
She jumped off and hurriedly ran to the backside of the table. She stood with her hands behind her back, dipping her upper body in salute at imaginary people. "Hot Dogs! Hot Corn! Hot Chestnuts! Get it while dey's hot!" Now she became almost all the food vendors in the city.
Her sister came out from behind the sheet partition, rubbing her eyes. "Ciod rach air?"
Her mother shook her head, still trying to stifle giggles. "English, Sìle. Torii es just being funny."
Sìle rolled her eyes. "Mimicking da street vendors again, Torii?" Sìle had already learned more than her sister in English and had become the one everyone turned to for translations. Most of the time she and Torii got along, but in the morning, that was a different matter.
Torii's excitement deflated. She walked over to her mother. "Màthair, mi cuidich?"
"English, Torii. And yes, you help. Watch pancakes." With her short instructions, she turned back to whatever she was preparing for lunch.
Torii excitedly seated herself on a short stool, just tall enough so she could see when the pancakes were ready to be turned. Pancakes were a special treat in the house, and being the one to turn them was a special honor. They roasted deliciously on a hot frying pan on the stove.
"Athair leaved already?" she asked her mother.
"Left, Torii," her sister commented from her spot at the table, reading a book.
Her mother clicked at Síle, then addressed Torii's question. "Chagh. He got some. Watch pancakes."
Torii resumed staring at the small pools of pancake batter until they started to crisp at the sides. Then, with a satisfying plop, she'd flip them over to see a rich golden brown on the top.
But today, something went wrong. Whether some batter dropped into the stove or Torii had turned her eyes off the pan to taunt her sister, something went wrong.
The next thing she knew, a small towel had started on fire. Torii stared at it, scared stiff. She couldn't speak. Her mother looked over soon, and seeing the towel, grabbed it, stuffing it into a small pail of water near the stove. She turned to Torii.
"See, now you know. Dat es what you do."
But Torii wasn't listening. Quickly, a flame was licking up the sides of the small wooden shack. The towel hadn't been extinguished completely.
"…you listen, Torii?"
Torii just pointed. Her mother turned. "Nìhagh! Sìle, cuidich gabh! Torii, outside!"
Everyone rushed quickly to obey. Sìle quickly went to help her mother put out the flames, while Torii was sent to safety. She didn't know what to do.
She watched as the fire blazed out of control. She couldn't move from her spot, so frozen in fear was she. But she could scream.
"Cuidich! Cuidich! Help! Help! Fire!"
Workers from the nearby railyards came at the sound of her voice. But they were too late. As they arrived, the walls collapsed into themselves, trapping her family inside.
There was nothing the workers could do except stomp out the embers to make sure it wouldn't spread.
But Torii could still hear them screaming. And her father reiterated their cries.
"Nìhagh. Nìhagh. No. Màiri!" He dropped to his knees in anguish, not even noticing Torii until a few minutes later.
- - - - -
Red took a sip from her coffee cup, then sighed. "I guess dat bout 'splains it."
Jack sat back in his chair, speechless. "Wow."
"Yeah."
"Wow."
"Dat all ya kin say, dunderhead?"
"You do realize dat wasn't yer fault? It coulda happened ta anyone."
She shrugged. "I dunno. It jist seems like it all lies on me."
"It was a while ago. Yer dad's gone now. No one can really blame ya. 'Cept yerself. And dat's usually yer biggest barrier."
Jack grinned a bit, trying to lighten the mood. He slapped the table with his hands, while pushing himself out of his chair. "C'mon, let's go ta bed. It's late." As they walked up the stairs, he asked, "Ya gonna be ok now?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. I'll try." She smiled a weak smile, obviously forced, only lifting half her mouth. Jack quickly squeezed her in a half-hug.
"You do that. G'night."
She whispered to the closing door. "Oíche mhaith."
Red slowly plodded up the stairs, her own door closing behind her.