Incognito

3

A middle-aged woman stirs a cauldron of laundry with a big spoon. A warm flush is alight on her cheeks and she wipes the sweat from her brow. A knock sounds on her door and she calls for one of her children to answer it. Her young son gasps at the sight of a young female hunchback. The hood of her cloak disguises her features albeit the boy recognizes her. With a laugh, he lets her in and tugs his mother's skirts. Tenderly she leans sown and the boy whispers the visitor name in his mother's ear. Afterward, he scurries to alert his father of their guest.

The young woman leans around the corner. "Hello Rita," She whispers with a smile.

In a flash, Rita bustles around. She closes shutters and drapes. She bolts doors and stuffs rad underneath their frames. Finally, she outstretches her arms in a loving, motherly manner. "Oh, my mia, you are safe. Come now, off with the cloak."

The mia shakes her hood off of her head and lowers her chin to untie the cord.

Rita fastens her eyes to her laundry. "I wish you would listen when I tell you to live with-" She turns and gasps as the mia's cloak falls to the floor.

The rebellious woman swings the baby out from the pouch on her back and releases the cloak onto the floor. With a purse of her lips, her gaze falls to the floor. "Oh," she breathes in sharply, silently cursing her carelessness. "I am sorry, Rita." She scoops up the pouch and cloak, careful not to also catch up the skirts she was no longer used to.

   "No, darling. It is not that..." Rita's eyes grow misty as she studies the girl she has grown so fond of.

With a smile, the mia nods. "I do suppose Prosper has gotten larger since the last time you saw her. My, it must have been," the girl pauses and turns her eyes heavenward, while she mouths something under her breath.

Tears trickle down Rita's cheeks as she runs her fingers down the younger woman's hair. "Where did your hair go?" she murmurs as her fingers fall empty at the mia's shoulders.

The girl breathes in a deep, sad breath. Once, everything had been stripped from her. The only thing she had from her former life was her long hair. It had been the envy of her peers when she grew up and all the boys had needed was a glance and they were smitten. Her father had said the king would be a folly to not fall in love with his daughter. Those days had left so suddenly and were so fleeting that the long hair had been the only thing the lass had kept. Now that too was gone.

Even though Mia did not like hugs and even though Rita's was awkward- Rita must have been a foot shorter- she found some solace in the action.

When Mia pulls away she notices the man in the doorway and Rita discovered the over-boiling laundry. Rita's husband cradled little Prosper to his side. "My mia, you do not make a very careful mother." Mia gulped and plastered on a smile although the words reminded her of those she thought she had forgotten.

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The Past: Angelica Roslin

"Can't catch me," Angelica screams. Around the fountain, she runs, her brother on her tail. Faster. Faster. The garden around her is a blur. The fountain comes in and out of focus. Faster. Faster. She looks back. Her brother has outstretched arms. With a giggle, she picks up speed but she trips over a rock and falls headlong.

"Darcy!' A handsomely frightening man is shadowed by the wide porch of the house. Angelica's seven year old brother gulps and looks down. Though her stocking is torn and her knee is bleeding, little three year old Angelica does not make a peep. silently Darcy shuffles to his father.