India Rose & The Eternals - The Fountain Of Youth Chronicles Vol. 1

Chapter 21: A Night's Work, Part 1

New York Harbor Docks, 9:15 P.M, 83rd Day Of Spring

Olaf shuffled nervously from one foot to the other as he stood beside Bianka, looking out over the docks of New York. The Majestic loomed over them as they stood on the wooden planking of the wharf next to the vessel that had recently been their home. The thick fog of the morning had returned as the late-spring air cooled rapidly while the sunset. It was rolling in, thick and cold, almost obscuring the large vessel in front of them.

Bianka saw Olaf shiver, and for the first time that day, she realized that he did not have a coat. As she looked around them, she spied their former captors, Jacob and the Captain, leaning listlessly against their patrol boat, which was pulled up against the same dock as the ocean liner. The patrol boat had seemed so large this morning, compared to the small lifeboat the seafarers had been in. But it was now utterly dwarfed by The Majestic, adding some weight to the old adage that "there is always a bigger fish in the sea."

"Excuse me," called out Bianka in the general direction of the patrol boat. "Jacob, is it? Would you please give this young man your jacket? He will catch his death of cold in this damp air, and we should not like to return him to his Mother tomorrow in that condition."

Jacob stood up straight, a scowl on his face.

"Lady, I've had about enough of you today. Not only do you almost squeeze the life out of my poor melon, and I've still got a crushing headache by the way, but you and your strange group deprived me and my Captain of more work on this day by shanghaiing our boat. And now you expect me to give up my good jacket for your poor little wharf rat there? Why don't you go run uptown and trade that fancy hat of yours for one...hmm?"

Bianka walked over to him and stood as straight as she could. With a lowered, menacing voice, she said, "If you don't hand over your jacket immediately, I will personally see to it that the esteemed Mr. Edison and his friend, the Honorable Governor of New York, commandeers that tub of yours for the rest of the year! Do I make my self perfectly clear?"

The patrol boat Captain nodded to Jacob, and the bruised bounty hunter (who did, in fact, have a prominent line of deep blue and purple bruising across his forehead) reluctantly pulled off his heavy pea coat and handed it to her. She snatched it indignantly from his grasp and marched back over to where Olaf stood, shivering on the pier. She wrapped the coat around the young boy and, against years of upper-class training, put her arm around the boy to comfort him.

"I...I should never have left my family," the boy said quietly, the emotion seeping into his voice. The excitement of the day had passed, and Bianka could tell by the sound of Olaf's voice that he was very tired. "My Mother really needs me right now, my brother is still weak and she had to go this whole day without me. I bet she's frantic right now. My brothers and sisters too."

"There, there," Bianka heard herself saying (words that usually made her eyes roll when she heard them said by parents). She pulled Olaf a little closer. "Mr. Edison has notified the finest detective service in the city, and they will track down your family tomorrow. They have only a one day start on you, and Mr. Edison has the backing of the Governor, so finding them will be just a matter of a few hours. Unfortunately, it's too late tonight to search for them. So, we get to have you for a few more hours." As she said this, Bianka found herself, to her great surprise, stroking Olaf's hair in a maternal fashion.

"Do you think I could lay down somewhere?" asked the boy sleepily.

Bianka looked around her and saw a bench just a little way down the pier. She and Olaf sat down upon it, and he laid his head on her lap. She covered him with the thick pea coat as he closed his eyes.

As she sat there, the sleeping boy in her lap, Bianka felt something new, yet somehow familiar. She had lived many, many years now, and had never known the feeling of motherhood. And, for a few brief minutes, while sitting there, she thought of what might have been, all the while softly stroking the head of the boy. As she looked down at the sleeping face of Olaf, she broke into a soft, almost whispered, song: