I will see her again. I will hold her in my arms and I will apologize for ever leaving her side. I will promise to never leave her again no matter what happens to me. All these things run through my mind yet one question scares me, will she be the same person I left? Or will the Gutters have corrupted her entire.
"What's on your mind?"
It's the merchant woman Beatrix. She stares at me with the same pity she showed me back in the Bridge by saving me from the governor's wrath. The other doesn't even look at me save for the little whiles where I sneeze and she gives the sourest of looks. Perhaps it is fair to loathe me, for how I look at this moment. It's been a part of me, the acceptance that I am a shameful creature wallowing in mud while my betters were truly better. It makes the pain digestible so that I live.
Rats belong to the Gutters, they eat from the ruins of a merchant and they scatter when the lords walk by. That is the way of Acropolis the great.
"Many things my lady," I say finally.
"Tell me of one that worries you and I shall help you sooth it as best as I can," Beatrix continues.
Once more I wonder why she seems so bent on helping me. Pity? No I suppose not. Pity is usually the cowards way as my Da would say whenever I brought up begging for scraps like others.
I know no man or woman could grow up a merchant and claim to have kindness in their heart. The city makes sure it sucks that away from you entire. So Beatrix could not claim to be doing any of this out of the goodness of her heart.
"I have someone I wish to see even for a last time in this city." I say.
Her eyes wander to the side of the transporter just as we go through the first gate of Acropolis. When they find me again I can already see the question in them.
"Is she important to you"
Beatrix's smile does not fade but I know better than to share pleasantry with anyone who would save your life and not tell you why. Especially if they might be involved in the criminal but highly practiced slave-trade.
"We're at the second gate Jojo," the other lady says.
She calls her by a nickname. Are they lovers of some sort? I do not think it feasible judging by the evident age gap. My mind says natural but I remember there is nothing natural in the city as we enter the final gate bordering the First Sector of the Gutters. I almost stand to look through the window as if by doing that I would see her standing just where she could wave at me and scream I am okay.
I instead stare at my bare feet.
***
I for the second time have the honour of bathing in a 'shower' and I couldn't be more grateful for the warm water soothing my tired bones. I also have my own room only this time it's way larger than the crap house my Da raised us in. It's beautiful too and the largest bed I've ever seen.
I succumb to the urge to jump onto the plump mattress which turns out to be softer than I expected it to be. Lying there, eyes closed smiling like I've just seen one of the Thirteen Crosses, I wonder if this is what my life is going to be like for now. It's a lie I know but what if this was the way. I could find her and beg Madam Beatrix to take her in for a servant and we could live together here in this splendour.
I hold onto the thought till it escapes and I find that I have not yet dried my skin, the water ruining the sheets. I stand, reaching for the toilet when the door opens and Beatrix's lady friend walks in. Too far from the towel, I cover my nakedness with my hands mustering the angriest and most annoyed look I can for the intrusion.
"Do let your hands fall to your sides boy. There's nothing you have that I am yet to see except your very own," This rude lady says but I do not budge.
"I don't ask people twice usually but you seem to want me to do so, boy,"
Still my hands do not move. She cocks her head to the side grinning before crossing the distance between us and pushing me onto the bed. Somehow my arms stick to my sides as she holds me in her hand, turning me for the Crosses-know what. Finally she looks at me smiling.
"You'll serve well boy. You're not defective."
I lack words or thoughts as she walks away, covering myself with the sheets even though she never looks back nor returns.