(Edited)
.It Begins.
~Tuesday Prince~
The train shakes as it starts to move from it's stationary state. From the window which is propped open, I can hear women crying for their children that they watch leave them for what probably could be the last time. The children cry out as well, wishing their mothers, and even fathers, luck without them. I long, at that moment, for nothing more but to have a parent to say farewell to as I leave for my journey into the unknown outskirts of London. I would have preferred to walk, but the distance is too great. So instead, I sit in a compartment of the train, watching children being torn from their parents to be shipped off to other people who won't love them nearly enough.
Suddenly, my compartment door slides open and I turn to see a boy standing in the doorway, obviously waiting for a reaction from me. I cock my head to the side for a moment, waiting for the boy to say something first. He just clears his throat slightly before stepping into the compartment and sitting down at the end across from me. Three others follow him in which I assume are his siblings. They all have darker hair but this boy has blonde hair. They almost don't look related, which I find odd. The others sit next to him, but the youngest sits next to me, since there is no more room on the bench.
"Sorry," the oldest girl apologizes. "There was no more room in the other compartments. I hope you don't mind if we sit with you."
I shake my head, refusing to meet her eyes, but look down at my toes instead. "It's fine," I mutter. "I just would have appreciated it if you had asked first before sitting. You never can tell who might be less kind than others, and who would be more so."
The girl is surprised at my words and shakes her head to clear whatever thought she had. "Sorry," she says again before nudging her blonde brother in the side.
"Yes, sorry," he whispers as if not meaning the words.
His sister elbows him once more.
"We-we'll make sure to ask next time."
If there even is a next time, I think, but I don't say anything. There is no need. I don't need more people thinking I'm mad, especially when those people are the few I have to spend a long train ride with.
"I'm Susan Pevensie," the older girl says after a moment finally making me look up at her. Her hair is a darker shade, smooth and soft. Her eyes are a dark blue that seem to hold the ocean. She is too kind and beautiful, but I like her immediately. "This is my brother Edmund," she continues, pointing to the younger boy beside her.
He is like his siblings but has dark brown eyes instead of blue. They almost remind me of chocolate.
"That's Lucy."
The young girl next to me gives me a kind smile and I can't help but like her as well. She holds innocence, and I'm sure if magic was real, she would hold that too.
"And this is Peter."
My glance then turns to the blonde boy who's eyes meet mine. His eyes are like his sister's but lighter, paler even. Maybe filled with little pools of ice. I notice that his hands are sweaty and I wonder why he's nervous.
"I'm Tuesday," I say, surprising myself. I hadn't planned on saying anything at all, just maybe nod and continue looking out the window. I guess plans change.
"It's Wednesday," Edmund corrects with a laugh.
I look to him for a moment, staring into his chocolate brown eyes and decide they have lost all flavor, in my opinion, so, I ignore him. Susan glares at him for me and I almost smile at her in thanks. Almost. Instead she smiles at me.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Tuesday," she says.
I nod once in return and turn to look out the window, not wanting to talk anymore.
I used to be a talkative person. I used to smile all the time. That's all I would do, smile and talk to people. It was one of my favorite things to do, especially to my mother. However, the war that I knew was coming came, and with it came the bombs. My mother and I didn't have enough time to get to the shelter. I escaped with a couple broken ribs and a broken ankle, but my mother did not. They couldn't even find her body. I was left alone, without even the dreams to comfort me. When she left, they did too.
The train rockets back and forth as we trudge along. My stomach grumbles and I can't help but wish that I had brought some type of food with me. Instead, I sit in silence, trying to push away my hunger. However, it isn't for very long because I feel a tap on my shoulder. Since it is Lucy trying to get my attention, I turn to her willingly. If it were any of the boys, I might not have. When I do turn, Lucy sits there staring at me, a smile on her face and a sandwich in a hand stretched out towards me. She knows I am hungry and is offering me her sandwich. I shake my head. I can't possibly take it.
"Please," she insists. "I have two. I'm not going to eat this one."
"I'm allergic to peanut butter," I lie.
That makes Lucy giggle. "It's not peanut butter. It's ham and cheese." She then puts the sandwich in my hand before I can say anything else and turns back to her own sandwich.
I look over between Edmund, Susan, and Peter in surprise, but they don't meet my eyes as if they all expected Lucy to do something like that to a complete stranger. Deciding that, I look back out the window and eat my ham and cheese sandwich, spirits slightly lifted. My lips even threaten a smile, so I let it happen. It's just a small one, but it feels comfortable to me, almost like returning home to a warm fireplace after being out in the snow all day working. I can tell Lucy's looking at me, trying to see my expression, but I continue staring out the window at the open country, no buildings in sight, keeping my small happy moment to myself, knowing the moment won't last long.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
I don't realize I've fallen asleep till I'm being shaken awake by a warm hand. I'm disappointed to realize that, again, there were no dreams. My eyes pop open to see Peter smiling down at me like a normal person rather than a nervous one. I wonder what the sudden change was, but I don't dwell on it as I let the boy help me up and grab my trunk from underneath the seat. It isn't a fancy one, but large enough the fill the few things that survived from the bombing, one of them being a phone book that contains only one number. Usually, I won't find something so simple of any importance, but it is the last reminder I have of my mother. Everything else was burned or in a million pieces.
"Are you alright, Tuesday?" Peter asks from the compartment doorway.
I realize I've zoned out looking at my trunk. I glance up at him quickly and nod, following him out. I only hope this is my stop. I will hate to have missed it. I see that the rest of the train is empty and know this must be the right one. I wonder why the four siblings are going with me. Perhaps we are all going to be neighbors for the duration of the war? I take a step from the train and onto the old platform and realize how abandoned it is. The only ones standing here for what looks like miles are the four Pevensies and I. Other than that, there is no one. Not even someone to pick us up. There is a toot of a horn and the train pulls a away, leaving us completely alone. Lucy waves me over to her and I decide it's probably better than standing awkwardly there with Peter so I move over to her.
"What does your tag say?" she asks.
"I didn't get a tag," I tell her honestly. "I'm going to a friend of my mothers. She ... well, she didn't make it through a bombing. I'm alone now." I don't know why I'm being so open with Lucy, but it almost feels relieving so get the words out. Almost like closure. I'm surprised I don't burst into tears right there.
Lucy's smile drops. "I'm sorry. Our father's fighting right now. Mother sent us away so it would be easier and safer for us. What about your father?"
"I never knew him," I say. "He died of cancer just after I was born."
"Oh," is all she can respond with. I feel guilt eat at my stomach a little and I know I need to say something so she doesn't feel back for me, so I do.
"It's okay though," I promise. "It could always be worse. I'm just trying to stay positive. What about you?" I ask, changing the topic. "What does your tag say?"
She looks down as though she can't remember. "Professor Digory Kirke."
For the first time, I smile. A real smile, showing my teeth and everything. Perhaps this time I won't be alone. For once in a blue moon, something right is happening with a world.
"Than perhaps we can be roommates!"
Lucy's face immediately brightens again. "You mean ... you mean you're coming with us to Professor Kirke's too!" I nod and she turns to Edmund who is on her opposite side. "Did you hear that, Edmund?" she asks the boy. "Tuesday is coming with us to Professor Kirke's! Speaking of, shouldn't he be here for us?"
Edmund looks at his tag and sighs. "Perhaps we've been incorrectly labeled."
"But we can't be!" Lucy insists. "Tuesday's going to the same place, didn't you hear? Maybe he's just forgotten us." As if on cue, a black car comes puttering down the dirt road toward us. Lucy suddenly grabs my hand and pulls me from the rickety old platform and to the road, Edmund, Susan, and Peter following closely behind. Instead of stopping, the car moved along, completely ignoring the five children on the side as though the man hadn't seen us at all.
"Maybe he really has forgotten us," Susan murmurs under her breath, hoping that Lucy doesn't hear her hopelessness, but I see the girl's shoulders droop, and know she heard every word.
Then, just when all hope is lost, the clopping of horses can be heard. We all look up and there it is, an old carriage pulled by horses, just as old as the platform we had just been standing on. I can hear Edmund groan from next to Lucy and glare at him, though he doesn't see. The carriage comes to a stop and a stern lady looks down at us. She has a hat placed perfectly over a bun on her head and glasses that are sliding down her nose because of collected sweat.
"Pevensies?" she asks.
The four mentioned nod.
Her eyes then travel to me. "That must make you Tuesday. I'm Mrs. Macready, the Professor's housekeeper. Load your things. Quickly, we're on schedule."
We do as she asks, placing our trunks on the back.
Over my shoulder I hear Edmund say, "I swear if we have to live with this old bat for the next couple months, I think I might run away," before Peter smacks him upside the head.
Although Edmund's words were rude about the lady who calls herself Mrs. Macready, I can't help but agree with him ever so slightly. The old woman will take some getting used to. I try my best to get inside the carriage, but it's too high and I stumble back to the ground. Peter comes around the back and gives me a small smile.
"Do you need some help?" he asks me.
At first I don't want him to help me, thinking I can do it on my own, but I nod anyways, knowing if I try again, I might tear a seam in my dress. Peter gives me an outstretched hand and I take it, letting him boost me up easily into the carriage. Though I don't want to, I sit by Edmund and suck it up, knowing if I complain about him, he will complain about me. However, we all sit in silence as we ride through the countryside, even when we reach a grand house, large and very old.
I'm not surprised when Mrs. Macready says, "I hope you all appreciate that this is a house is of great historic value. People come from all over England to view it."
The carriage halts right in front of the house and we all stare up at it in surprise. I'm sure that none of us have seen a house so big let alone lived in one. We quickly grab our bags and head inside (after Peter helps me down like the gentleman he is, of course), excited to see the place that we will all be living in for the next while. I, however, know I could be staying here for the rest of my life. Mrs. Macready leads us through the house and up a grand staircase where there are wonderful artifacts and things like armor stands.
"There will be no shouting or running," she says. "No sliding on the banisters. No improper use of the dumbwaiter." She catches Edmund reaching out to touch one of the suits of armor and slaps his hand away. "No touching the historical artifacts. And above all ..." she freezes, turning to us, stopping right outside a door dimly lit from the sun hardly up at all. "There will be no disturbing the Professor." Mrs. Macready looks at us fiercely through warning and a tingle goes up my spine. She makes him sound like some kind of mad man, but I had talked to him once before, though it was over the phone while I was in the hospital. He is no mad man. He is actually rather nice if you ask me. The old woman continues on and we follow her, Lucy staying behind for only a moment before catching up.
"Something moved under the door," she hisses under her breath.
I almost laugh, but smile softly at her instead in order to give her some comfort. I think I'm getting better at this. "It's probably just the Professor," I tell her. "Don't worry. He isn't as bad as Mrs. Macready makes him out to be. He's rather kind."
Lucy smiles back at me and I can tell that, though the fear is still in her eyes, she's more relaxed.
I really am getting better.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
Mrs. Macready had given me my own room, but I don't like that, so instead I sit on Peter's bed as he tucks little Lucy into her own bed. She looks so small in it's big covers and I know she notices that. She even says it to her her. Peter smiles and ruffles her hair.
"Are you sure you haven't just shrunk?" he asks, making her giggle.
"If you want, Luce, I'll sleep in the bed with you," I suggest.
Lucy's eyes brighten.
"Of course, that's only if you want me to push you out and steal the blankets for myself." I don't expect Lucy to laugh, but she does, almost falling out of her bed.
Peter and Susan chuckle softly as well and I beam with pride. All of a sudden, Edmund sneaks unto the room causing everyone to go silent immediately. In his hand he holds a plate of biscuits. Looking at us oddly, he puts one in in his mouth.
"The pantry's a gold mine," he declares, moving over to his bed.
"You should be in bed," Susan tells him, ignoring his comment. Edmund rolls his eyes and sits down, taking another biscuit. I quickly nab one off the plate making Edmund glare back at me.
"Stop trying to sound like Mum," he spits out. "Tuesday's not in bed and you haven't said anything about her yet."
"I am in bed," I say, indicating to Peter's bed below me.
The older boy laughs. I take another biscuit from Edmund's plate and stand, going over to Lucy's bed and hand it to her.
"I may not sleep in your bed, Luce, but I'll tell you what. Tomorrow we'll go out and explore the grounds. You saw how vast it is. There's no telling what we'll find."
Before I can do anything, Lucy's arms are around my neck, pulling me into a hug. At first, I don't know what to do. It has been a long time since I've properly hugged someone. However, I wrap my arms around her too, squeezing her in return.
"Thank you, Tuesday," she says when she pulls back.
I cock my head to the side slightly. "For what?"
"For being so bright in this dark moment."
I smile as she lays back, her words echoing inside my head.
The light in the dark, I think. The summer in the winter, the spring in the fall. And end to a bitter everlasting sadness.
*~~~~~*~~~~~*
New edits for this story, if you haven't noticed, much like Shooting Star. Tell me what you think about the new cover! It took me forever to get it right and it's unlike something I've done before, so, I'd like to know. Nothing about the story will change, so don't worry about that.
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Peace out
~Cassie
Word Count : 3,001