Pricked

14

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"So young yet so wise you are, what's your name little one?" The shopkeeper says after I place the first load of stolen goods on the table.

"Harriet." I say coolly, trying to show confidence.

"Where on earth did you get these?" His smile meets his eyes and his huge eyes glow with joy as he holds forward an amethyst pendant. I open my mouth to say I stole everything you have in front of you because I need to help pay for my friends, fathers medical bills, hoping he will give me more for it. But I think better of it, what if he turns me in to the police.

"I... I don't know, just places..." That's a lie and he knows it, but I don't know him, only of him. He's just a strange large man. I heard he could give me money for goods, if the value was to his liking. So I saved up on goods, jewels, rings, crafts from the market that looked expensive enough and easily stolen.

"Nah, no lying to me girly, where'd you get this?" I swallow the lump in my throat, I can run, the doors are not too far and I'm little so I can get away. "You won't tell me?" He questions, brow raised, his large hazel eyes staring down at me.

"You won't tell no one?" The question is strange as it rolls off my tongue. I shouldn't tell him, but I need the money for Mitch, Darius and myself.

"Course not little one." His thick Irish accent makes my ears struggle to hear him correctly.

"Pinky promise?" I say holding out my hand and flipping my pinky finger out towards him.

"Pinky promise" He says, locking his thick beefy finger with mine.

"The palace."

"Palace? Aye princess."

"No, I'm not a princess." I look down at my tattered clothes.

"Aye, aye know little one, but how did you acquire these beauties?" He motions to the jewels.

"I work at the palace. I clean."

"How old are you?"

I puff out my chest and try to look tall and brave "8," I state proudly.

"8," he looks me up and down again. "My, my little one, why do you have a job already? Where are ye parents?"

"I don't have none sir." My eyes fall to the floor then up at my pile of earnings and then to the man's breaded face. "Sir?"

"My goodness little one, you are a fighter I can tell. Brave and courageous, but also very polite, please call me Rowan." He sticks out his hand again and I reach for it. His grip is slight even though his whole hand covers mind entirely. He looks as if he's scared he might break me though with such a soft touch. "And I'm going to be ye friend. You got any other friends?"

"I got one," I say immediately thinking of Mitch.

"Good, well stay with her when I'm not here. You need someone looking out for you."

"Him."

"What?"

"My friend, his name is Mitchell"

"Mitchum." He says and went to counting coins. I am too scared to correct him, still not knowing what to think of Rowan. "Here you go little one." I thank him and turn to leave I would count my earnings later, I know better than to count in front of the buyer. I pull on the old door but he calls to me. "Harriet. You need to eat more. Take some of these." He holds up a platter of treats. "My wife made them this morning." I turn back to him, holding my earning close to my chest. I take the treats with a grateful smile, thanking him again through bite of sweets and leave chewing the deliciousness as I go.