On The Other Side

Chapter Seven: Finally, A Best Friend

I sweep my hand gently over my son's bright orange hair, his brow. He sleeps peacefully this night, snuggled up next to Aggie, his hero, his best friend. Their tiny hands clasped together in unity, a silent promise to keep the monsters of their dreams at bay for each other.

What about the real monsters, the monsters that hunt in the daylight? Monsters like my boss, Mr. Bott. I shiver involuntarily just thinking about him. The feel of his hands as they painfully grabbed at me, his rancid breath against my face. I close my eyes in fear, thinking about what could have happened if I hadn't fought, if I hadn't done what my brother taught me to do years ago.

When we were still innocent, when we still had dreams of finding the treasures that the world surely held for us. My brother, Danny, is dead now, not living into adulthood. My parents both dead, my mother dying of a broken heart, not quite able to get over her sons passing. My father drinking himself, first, into a stupor, then, to death.

I've been on my own since then. I raised myself on the streets of New York since I was 16. Not an easy feat, let me tell you. People come to America with a dream, a dream of a better, a cleaner place to live, to raise their families. But we American's already know the truth. We know by heart the dark alleyways, the stench, the sickness, the disease. We know that its difficult, if not impossible for dreams to come true. With the market crash, food, housing, jobs, feeling safe and secure is something of the past.

I look across the room shrouded in darkness, see Millicent reading a poetry book next to a stubby, dripping candle, eyes squinted. Claire, brushing out her glorious hair, falling in waves down her back, the color catching the light of the candle, seeming to set it afire. My own hair is blonde, drab, somewhat greasy from being unwashed. I'm barely able to afford food for Corky and I, much less soap.

"Miriam, come to the sink, let's get your hair washed. You'll want it fresh and shining when you start your new job in the morn."

Claire's right, I need to be pressed and polished for tomorrow. I start bright and early at the Claremont residents as an upstairs maid in their household for Mrs. Abigale Claremont herself.

Declan has connections in this city, from lower class to the upper crust. With Declan being an immigrant and a doctor, and the Claremont's immigrating from Germany themselves, when they met him at an art gala, they immediately latched on to the handsome doctor from Ireland, making him their primary family doctor.

After being attacked, then fired from my job last week, Declan asked the prominent New York family for a favor. Declan is like the brother that I lost. He's kind, loving, willing to help out whoever is in need, no matter their class. I know I'm not worth much, but finally having friends that care for me, that help me with no strings attached, makes my heart clench in gratitude.

After washing my hair, Claire braids it, while her lilting voice tells me stories of her home. The magic of Scotland, the rolling green of the hills. I crawl into the bed I've made up on the floor, pull the quilts that Declan gave me up to my chin. Maybe losing my job was a blessing in disguise. Maybe things for Corky and I will start looking up. Living with Claire and Mrs. Worthington, having women to talk to, to share joys and sorrow is something I've never experienced. Something that I've come to love. These women, these sisters I love with my whole heart.