Friday, February 3, 2012

Raoul: Prologue

copyright Gabrielle McHaffie, 2012



Telmett Harbor was a buzzing hive of activity in the early morning light. A low fog rolled in from the ocean; but it would dissipate soon enough. Despite the early hour, vendors were already hawking their wares to the quickly gathering crowds. The streets were filled with a plethora of sounds and smells; from the exotic animals that the wealthy often bought to the hundreds of different foods, tools, and trinkets one could buy; the dockside market was like a miniature set of the entire world.
  The woman ran through the city as quickly as she could; clutching the tiny bundle to her thin chest. Her dark brown hair was matted and lank; her grey eyes dull and sunken. Despite her beggared appearance, it was obvious that she would be quite beautiful. She ducked in and out of the crowds of Market Street, sometimes even ducking through open shops; constantly looking over her shoulder as if someone was calling to her. Fatigue was beginning to show on her body; her run was quickly slowing to a stumbling walk when suddenly she froze. Glancing behind; her eyes widened in utter terror. With renewed vigor, she took off running through the maze of people. As she sped around the corner to Spinner’s Street, she tripped, nearly sending her bundle flying. Quickly, she righted herself and ducked into the shadows.
          Leaning against a dirty stone wall, she checked her bundle. A baby, only three days old, turned under his blankets and continued to sleep. She kissed his head and pressed him back to her chest as she checked the streets. When she was sure all was clear, she began once again traversing the city’s dark labyrinth.
          It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps behind her. A dark figure stalked her in the shadows, as it had for many, many days. Hide, she thought, must hide! A set of conveniently stacked crates in a narrow alley offered a reasonable shelter; she ducked in just as the figure rounded the corner. She watched as feet paused outside her hiding place. She crouched there silently, willing the baby not to make a sound. Long minutes had passed when at last the feet disappeared down the street.
          After what seemed like hours of waiting, she emerged, taking the opposite direction of her pursuer. Deeper into the labyrinth she ran, finally coming to Scapegrace Lane. There in the middle of the block stood Saint Amelia’s Home for Orphans. The vagabond knocked on the door tentatively, trying to make herself invisible to those in the street. After what seemed to be , a nun opened the door.
          “Hello, I am Sister Sophia. May I help you?”
          “Please,” the dirty woman gasped, “Please take him,” she pushed the baby into Sophia’s hands.
          “My dear, please come inside,” the nun’s words were resonant, yet kind as she tried to lead the woman through the gate.
          “No…no! I can’t! It isn’t safe!” she jerked herself out of the nun’s grip
          “Mademoiselle, this is an abbey. No harm can come to you here.”
          “No! They’ll find me! Just promise me you’ll take him!” Sister Sophia nodded her consent, cradling the tiny babe in her arms. The woman kissed his forehead once again; then tripped down the stairs preparing to run. “Oh –” she paused, calling the nun’s attention once more. “His name is Raoul.”
          “Wait! What is your name?” Sophia called after the fleeing woman. It was too late –she had disappeared down the street.