The Parlor

[clockwork]

CRASH.

The abrupt sound of thunder jolted Clockwork slightly, but soon she regained her senses. Sitting contently on her bed, she began to squeeze the little bit of water that had gotten caught in her hair. On her way back from work, she'd gotten caught in a...not-so-little storm. She'd never liked thunder. It was loud, and it was rude. Clockwork had no problem with anything was loud and rude, but it reminded her of one thing. Her brother. Tossing the thought aside, she stood up and walked around the room.

Kicking aside a pair of pants that lay on the floor, she wandered down the stairs, looking around. It was pretty deserted- either people were still out, or they had gone to sleep. Sighing, she walked down and plopped down at the bottom of the steps, twirling a strand of wet hair.

Clockwork wasn't really a people person in general. Alot of the times, it was just because she didn't get along with people. She was headstrong- that was it- and very opinionated. Ever since a young age, she had always found it hard to relate to people. Clockwork just thought differently- her brain was just wired a different way. She'd never consider emotions when she'd make a decision- she'd just consider the effect of the decision, weather or not it would cause complications and if it would get in her in any trouble. Never once did she think that maybe her actions could harm someone. Not like she cared, anyway.

The eerie whistling of wind coming in through the cracks in the wall sent a slight chill down her spine. Really, the mood that the weather was creating was not her preference. Twiddling her thumbs in a bored fashion, Clockwork glanced around the room once more, checking to see if anyone was there.

[frixie]

Upstairs, Frixie was woken up by a frighteningly loud clap of thunder. She sat up straight in bed, face pale and heart pounding. She'd never liked thunderstorms, ever since she was a very little girl. Her mother used to tell her it was just God and the angels bowling in Heaven but she'd stopped believing that after Tony died. Even at three years old she'd doubted the existence of God. After all, what kind of loving creator would take a little girl's big brother away from her, especially when all he was trying to do was help an innocent girl?

There had been a thunderstorm on the night her father had first broken her arm as well. She'd laid awake all that night, weeping softly, afraid to sleep on her arm, which had been twisted and hurt in all the worst places. The rain always seemed to pour whenever her father got drunk and slapped her around. And as Carmine DiCenzo slipped deeper into his alcoholic ways, the rain continued to pound. It had even rained the day Frixie had run away. Yet, though the thunder had boomed all during her first night at the Bronx Lodging House, she'd never had a better sleep in her eleven years.

Still, Frixie hated the awful storms. She slipped out of her bed, her bare feet meeting the cold ground. She shivered beneath her white nightgown and tiptoed towards the door, trying to avoid waking up any of the other girls. She squeezed between the door and its frame and hurried downstairs quietly. She lit a candle at the bottom of the stairs and moved to place it on the front desk. Maybe she would be able to find an apple or something in the kitchen. And then she could curl up on her favorite, faded, old couch in the parlor.

After rummaging through the kitchen for a few minutes, Frixie returned to the front room with a few old crackers in her hand. She hadn't been able to find an apple, but she'd made due. She picked up her candle and walked into the parlor. Setting it down on a nearby table, she jumped when a crash of lightning revealed Clockwork, one of her fellow Bronxies, sitting in the room. "Jeez, Clockwork, ya scared me!" she said, putting a hand over her heart.

[clockwork]

Glancing upward, Clockwork smile a little mischievously at Frixie's reaction. "Oops. I didn't mean to scare you", she said, her foreign tongue changing the words around. If asked what one of the hardest things in her life to do was, she would probably have to say adjusting from moving from England to New York. Although, it seemed harder now then it did then, because back then she had her brother.

Running her finger through the flame, Clockwork smiled slightly. She could remember when she was 7- her brother had taught her how to pass your finger through a flame without burning it. She'd always been fascinated by it, ever since. Withdrawing her hand from the flame, she turned to Frixie. "Isn't the weather dreadful?", she asked to Frixie. Regardless of Frixie's response, Clockwork would still stick to her opinion.

With another Crash of lightning, Clockwork ran her fingers through her still wet hair and glanced out the window. It was dark- probably 10 or 11. You couldn't see the rain, but you could hear it. It sounded remotely like the clipped sound of horse hooves on cobblestone.

Clockwork liked Frixie- they could see eye to eye. Some people just didn't like Clockwork. She creeps me out, was what she sometimes heard. She couldn't care less, though. Clockwork was perfectly content as Clockwork.

[frixie]

"That's alright," Frixie replied, plopping down on the couch and pulling her nightgown down over her frozen toes. She nibbled on one of her crackers gingerly. Another crash of lightning made her jump slightly. Thunder was one of the few things that made her this skittery...which of course she hated. She watched Clockwork stick her finger into the flame for a moment with interest. She'd been horrified when the girl had first done it, but now that she saw she wasn't burning herself, she was interested.

"The weather's crazy fer sure," she agreed after a minute or two. "I hate the thunder," she admitted. "An' I ain't so fond o' the rain either. Ruins my hair, ruins my make-up, ruins my papes. I don't see much good that comes from it," she explained with a small laugh. "'Course ya'll always find those crazy nuts that love ta run 'round in it," she added with a wry smile. "Not me, though. I prefer ta be dry."

Frixie stared out the window for a moment, though all she saw was darkness. Sometimes the darkness could be so frightening and lonely. She shivered. After a moment of thoughtful silence she turned back to Clockwork. She liked her, she really did. Clockwork was the kind of newsie who never tried to fool herself into believing too much. And that's where the two of them got on perfectly. "Want a cracker?" she offered, holding out what she had left from the kitchen.

[clockwork]

"I'm not a rain person", she said simply. This was typical behavior for Clockwork- even around people she liked. Most of the time, she didn't express her emotions, but she expressed her opinion. Thats what George had told her- keep your emotions to you, let the world hear what you have to say. It was also part of her personality- loud, outspoken. She wouldn't change it, though. Clockwork was a very "don't beat around the bush" kind of person.

Shifting her attention from the flickering flame to Frixie, she nodded. "Yes, thank you", she replied contently, taking a cracker and biting down on it. A loud boom of lightning sounded from outside. "How are any of the others sleeping in this weather..."

[frixie]

Frixie laughed. "A lot o' them up there could sleep through anythin'," she told Clockwork truthfully. She sighed and twisted her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. "Trust me, I wish I could, too. It'd be a hell o' a lot better than stayin' up all night an' havin' ta get up at the crack o' dawn," she added sourly. Thunderstorms ruined everything. And she was barely a morning person to begin with.

She stood up and began to pace around the parlor, trying to warm herself up. Too bad there wasn't any whiskey in the house; that usually did the trick. She jumped at another boom of thunder. "Jesus," she muttered in annoyance. "Just God an' the angels bowlin'," she said to herself cynically. "Right," she scoffed. She turned, almost having forgotten Clockwork was in the room. Sighing once again, she flicked at a pencil on the table next to her and then resumed her seat on the couch.