Persephone

Chapter 6

Margaret looked up when I opened the door to the shop. Hope flashed in her eyes before they dulled when she realized it was me.

"Don't look too desperate," I told her as I walked towards her while pulling my gloves off.

"I'm sorry... it's just been..."

"Dead? Yes, it has been much worse since that enlisted officer was killed, but you have to know that if he was the first enlisted American man to be killed, then Jack is still alive." I told her with a raised finger.

"But we haven't heard from them in months!" Margaret sighed, almost throwing her hands in the air in her frustration.

"Right now, no news is good news," I told her, plopping my gloves on the counter.

"Then..." Margaret mumbled, looking down.

"Then?" I asked, looking to her. I looked to where Margaret was looking to find the newspaper.

Fire kills six men in Harlem.

Witnesses claim to hear the men shouting for help as the building went up in flames. Though try as they might, neither those inside nor outside the building could open the doors, and the men either suffocated from smoke inhalation or burned to death. No suspects found nor apprehended as of yet.

"It's the same street those men lived," Margaret murmured.

I flipped the paper to the next page.

Twelfth Girl Missing Was Last Seen In Harlem.

Annabelle Florence is a girl of only thirteen years of age. She was reported as missing last week. Police report she was last seen in Harlem, walking home from her school in Upper Manhattan. No witnesses have come forward with any additional information, much like the previous eleven young girls. Police request civilian support by chaperoning young women.

I swallowed, flicking to the next page.

The Cursed Play Has Struck Again

The fourth leading actress of the musical 'Oh Boy!' has been reported as missing by her family. She was last seen walking from her Queens apartment where she resided with her parents after the divorce from her husband who has been drafted into the war efforts. An ongoing investigation is occurring, however with the lack of evidences and leads from the previous events, this case may remain cold. The musical producers have since raised the base income from $70 an hour to $90 in hopes of attracting a new star.

I grimaced before closing the papers altogether.

"Looking at that will only despair you," I told her, pulling the papers away from her.

"It's frightening to think of how close all of that is to the school," Margaret murmured.

"Yes, so I'm hoping we earn enough to be able to afford an apartment, at least," I said, folding the papers. I swallowed, not wanting to say what I needed to say, but I knew there was no other alternative.

"Mrs. Graham has suggested for someone to work at her stall at the market. I think you would do well," I told her.

"What about the shop?" She blurted.

"I will run the shop as I have been, but we're not making enough money right now. Now, if you aren't going to school, then you need to pull your weight, and Mrs. Graham is being quite considerate offering us such an opportunity." I told her sharply, not wanting to argue with her on this.

"I can't sell vegetables!" Margaret almost cried.

"Then either go back to school or leave, Margaret," I told her coldly.

She shot her head back, eyes alright as she glared at me. There was a curl to her lip, and I could see the excuse form on her tongue.

"You don't know a single thing I have done to keep you girls safe. All I asked from you was to go to school. You didn't, and I found out you became a trollop for some man in Harlem, and now I have to deal with you simpering and whining for weeks about the consequences of your actions while still taking care of our siblings! You are almost an adult! Act like it!" I shouted towards the end, my patience for her gone.

"You think I wanted to be taken advantage of?" Margaret asked, offended.

"If you hadn't gone where you weren't supposed to, it wouldn't have happened!" I spat.

"You told Heather and Susan to make friends with Negro children!"

"There's a difference between making friends with children from good neighborhoods and East Harlem!"

"Where else would you find a Negro child if not in Harlem?" Margaret bellowed.

I clenched my jaw, seething.

Margaret nodded her head at me as though affirming something in her own head.

"Are you feeling better now?" She asked.

My lower lip quivered, and I couldn't help the tears that fell down my face.

Margaret stepped forward to hug me.

"I know you don't mean what you say," she whispered into my ear.

"Each one of us knows what you're doing for us, and we love you. I'll speak to Mrs. Graham next Tuesday after taking the children to school. I just want you to have a break, not feel so pressured." Margaret murmured, squeezing me tight.

I closed my eyes, taking in a hot muggy breath.

I opened them as I reached and took hold of Margaret's elbows. I pushed her away, and said gently, "We just need to work a little bit harder."

"Lucy, I don't think any good will come by pushing our luck-"

"Then we make our luck," I snapped.

I glanced to the clock to find it getting closer to the time the school day ended.

"Go, they need to be picked up and taken home," I told her.

"Lucy-"

"Now, Margaret," I demanded.

"Why can't you let me help you?"

"You working at Mrs. Graham's stall is the help I need." I told her, walking past her.

"Please remember that your health is our health. We can't survive without you."