As Amanda calmly claimed her place in line, she held tight to the little flea. The little flea's tiny hand was so small that her grasp was practically nonexistent so Amanda locked the girl's wrist between her pinky and ring finger while the rest of her fingers coiled around the rest of the girl's hand. If anyone was going to steal her away they'd have to rip her out of Amanda's vice grip.
Looking down at her tiny frame, Amanda wondered if this was what her mother saw when she was the little flea's age. A little bob of hair neatly combed into a ponytail, little pink sweater covered by powder blue overalls and, the pièce de résistance... little white sneakers with big pink glitter hearts on the outsides. It's amazing the things you can put together just from a motel lost-and-found; the things that are important to no one yet make such a difference. Only days ago this child was a dying flea in the middle of a field cover in dirt and sweat. Today she is someone's precious daughter. People standing in the bread line look at her and smile.
As they finally approached the serving tables Amanda's heart began to quicken with a bit of panic. The little flea would be to small and weak to carry her own tray. Amanda would have to let go of her hand. She pulled the girl in front of her and positioned her feet on either side of the child. Like a mother penguin, as she shuffled, the girl would shuffle too. Feeling confident that no one could grab the child away like this, at least not without making a scene of it, Amanda warily shuffled them into the serving line.
The first gatekeeper they would have to convince was a rather larger frowny man. His cold demeanor made everyone entering the serving line shrink away from his gaze. as this colossus loomed over Amanda, staring down at her sun tanned face, his eyebrows suddenly furrowed together. From about the hight oh Amanda's belly a pair of glistening eyes gleamed up at the towering titan. Quickly a beaming smile curled across the little flea's lips and the sweetest little giggle squeaked out of her as she waved a hand towards the gloomy tower teetering over her and Amanda.
At first the the monstrously large man looked confused but after a second he could not help but feel warmed by the innocent gesture. She wasn't afraid of the scars on his face. She wasn't intimidated by his massive muscles or disgusted by what, even he felt, were an excessive number of tattoos. She simply saw him, sheepishly smiled and waved hello to him. This little princess before him simply giggled adorning at the sight before her, as if they were old friends meeting again after a long interlude. A peaceful smirk rose to his cheeks.
Much to Amanda's surprise, the intimidating titan before her immediately softened at the sight of the little flea. Amanda might hazard the thought, yes, in fact, you might say he even looked...kind. He quickly noticed something, pivoting away from them and back again. This time, the now giant teddy bear held two trays out to Amanda, who gladly accepted. Smiling down at the littleflea, Amanda asked, "what do we say?" In the softest sweetest, most coquettish sounding voice followed a long enchanting "thank you" from the little flea. The titan's face exploded into a glowing smile that stretched from ear to ear. A slew of audible oo's ah's and enchanted gasps followed from the men and women on the serving line.
Seeing the way the little angel melted the stoney man before her the ladlers at the soup pots gladly fill a bowl to the brim for the tiny flea. The man spooning stuffing heaped an extra helping on the little flea's tray. The woman forking over slices of chicken breast stuck an extra slice on the flea's plate commenting to the girl before her, "you have to eat if you're going to be strong and beautiful like your mother." She added a second slice to Amanda's tray as well noting, "it's not easy all on your own. You have to keep your strength up too, for the both of you."
'Damn,' Amanda thought to herself, 'this is the best idea I've ever had.'
Looking at the pair, the woman passed the little girl two giant pieces of baguette bread. Amanda blushed and thanked the woman. Looking down at the flea she nudged the girl in the side with her knee a bit. As expected the flea interpreted correctly and knew it was time to perform. She pulled at the sides of her overalls with the tips of her fingers, careful not to drop the bread in the hands, bowed her head and slightly curtsied saying "thank you very much" in a voice so wistful it was almost a melody. When she looked back up, the woman had one hand on her heart and the other covering her quivering lips. She replied shakily, "you're very welcome you sweet angel. Now go on and eat up before it gets cold."
Amanda nodded with a smile to the woman and began to walk away; the fleat grasping on to her sweater bounced along beside her, but suddenly stopped. Amanda turned back to see what was wrong. The little girl, thinking of something bounced back a few steps, coquettishly turn and waved at everyone on the serving line to say in a giddy little giggle, "thank you. Bye, bye." The whole line halted and a stream of oo's and ah's echoed inside the large hall again.
'Damn, she's good,' Amanda thought. 'An ideal sidekick. This little flea is quick on her feet. She's aware of her audience...and she knows how to play them. What a valuable stroke of luck.' Amanda thought that maybe this is the thing she had been waiting for. Maybe now life would finally start going her way. Maybe the two of them together could figure out a nice place to finally settle down. Amanda had taken correspondence courses and she had a clerical certificate. She could find a job as a receptionist or a secretary, maybe in New Orleans or Dallas or Louisville. They could go anywhere. Or they could stay right there, in that little parish outside of Lafayette. They wouldn't know anyone anywhere else anyway. They could, both of them, turn to dust as they were walking down the street and not a soul in the world would miss them.
As they found seats at an empty table in the large open dining area, Amanda felt a stinging gaze on her. She looked over to find the flea sitting cross-legged in the folding chair beside her, arms folded across her chest and a scowl across her face. "What's the matter with you," Amanda asked.
"You said you'd tell me what happened to the old herman."
Puzzled, Amanda said "the old herman" as she paused to think a moment. "Oh, the old hermit!"
"Oh, come on," the little flea whined. "You knew what I meant. You promised you'd tell me what happened to him and the little girl."
Amanda grinned coyly, "okay, okay. You've earned your story.....I suppose." Amanda cut up the little flea's chicken and began.
"Well now, where did I leave off? You'll have to tell me."
The little flea jumped to remind her. "The old herman"
"hermit"
"Yeah, that's what I said. The old hermit trapped the guys in the bridge and he rescued the princess and he was doing some magic on the bad guys."
"What? Rescued the princess?" Amanda replied in confusion. "Who said anything about a princess?"
"But the girl in the sack....wasn't she a princess, isn't her family and the king going to offer the old man a reward or something at the end?" The little flea sounded so excited.
"No. This isn't that kind of story, kid."
"....but....but.....but, then, what's the point?"
"You'll see. Now hush up and eat and I'll tell you."
The little flea reluctantly began to pick at the food on her tray and listened.
Ah, yes, Amanda chided...
The old wizard, having collected the life force from the evil me into the vile in his hand, recited one more incantation. At that, the clouds that had swelled in the sky as the old man worked his magic began to crackle. Lightning screeched down from the clouds and struck the petrified corpses protruding from the bridge. What was left when the lightning retreated were only mud figures. The clouds, so swollen they could no longer contain themselves, began to pour. Everytime a droplet of rain slammed against the mud figures they washed a little bit away. The figures slowly began to melt down, until at last, they were washed away completely. There wasn't a single sign they'd ever even existed at all. This was powerful magic, that took a lot of energy to work.
On second thought, the mage regretted using so much power just then. He hoped he had enough left for the child.
Retreating out of the rain, back into his nest, the hermit found curled next to the fire the almost lifeless girl he had pulled from the water. He scooped her up in his arms and pulled the stopper from the vial. Holding the vial to her lips he recited a new charm.
The context was iffy. He wasn't sure it would work. This ancient tongue he used to recite charms was a dead language after all. Many words didn't translate or didn't exist yet. Man creates new languages to express emotion and conver an idea. But some ideas are new. Some ideas are complicated. Sadness on its own is simple. Sadness wrought from loneliness is more complex. Sadness wrought from loneliness after loss is an enigma. It's not so easily put into words.
In the same way, to describe life is...not simple, but not very hard. To describe giving life...is more complicated, but still no great task. To describe, to steal life....there you are dancing on a thin blade. To transfer life....there you were inventing a new dialect, conveying an entirely new concept. Every word had to be exact, every syllable, purposefully spoken.
He had done this for himself easily enough in the past. He had stolen life before and it did not shame him. He felt no guilt or remorse at the thought. But to transfer life, he had never done that before. He carefully phrased his words. Slowly, intentionally, he spoke the ancient words.
Soon the gas in the vial began to glow brighter. As he repeated his chant the color changed from the bright glowing green to a shimmering gold. His chanting slowed, became more calculated.
Slowly the vapor began to slip out from the vial toward the girl's lips. With every weak breath, she drew the golden vapor in. Soon, her breath became strong. Her heart beat grew firm. Her pulse steadied. Her body became warm and she stopped shaking from the cold. But her eyes still did not open.
The vial was empty but she was still in a trance. It wasn't enough. Those thugs were of such poor quality that even though the little life left in their bodies filled the vial, it wasn't enough to repair the damage they had caused.
The tired old man drew a deep breath and began to whisper yet one last incantation. As he did his eyes were filled with lightening and a golden mist began to slip out of his mouth. With every word the mist drew closer to the tiny girl in his arms. It traveled from him to her.
To transfered life.
Amanda paused and wiped the little flea's mouth. Her jowls were covered in chicken juice, stuffing and bread crumbs. Thinking of how this feral little creature was so mesmerized by the story that she herself had once heard at a soup kitchen cafeteria just like this one, her heart sank a little. All of those old memories came back so vividly. She missed the old bum and she wondered whatever happened to him. After scolding the little flea and spooning a bit of soup into her mouth. The little flea attempted to swat Amanda's hand away, craning her neck back to meet Amanda's gaze.
"I know its not the fanciest soup but you need to eat." Amanda forced the spoon toward the girl once more. But again the little flea resisted.
From behind the girl heard a rumbling baritone voice gently chiming in...."little angel, don't be fancy, be full."
Amanda's eyes widend as she spun around in her seat. There before them stood the titan from before, towering down at them.
"Where did you learn that saying," Amanda asked.
"The same place you did I suppose. What? You thought you were the only one listening when he would tell his stories? I was just a boy but I still remember you coming to the soup kitchen in New Orleans with your mother and father."
The giant mountain of muscle and gruff didn't wait for a response....or an invitation. He pulled a chair from another table and slid it next to the little flea. He set down his tray and a bottle of water. Then, as if by some magic trick, he pulled a second bottle of water and a box of milk from his jacket pockets and set them down before the ladies to his right. "You forgot these" he added as he peaked over at the little doll next to him.
The little flea tilted her gaze up at her burly teddy bear and smiled a full toothy smile. Noticing Amanda's uneasy glare he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this seat taken?" A rhetorical question because again, not awaiting a response, he continued on. "I think I remember this one. Well, go on. Don't let me stop you," he said as he began to stuff his face.
"Well there isn't much left to tell. He gave up part of his own life force to save the girl and since she had no family, he kept her and raised her as his own." Amanda quickly summarize the end of the story and tried to eat before the complaints began.
As sure as this was the least convenient time for quibbling, the little flea started. "But did he teach her magic? Did she become powerful? How long did they live?"
The man nearly choked on his soup as he suddenly burst into a roaring hysterical laugh. "My God, she sounds just like you. Like mother, like daughter I guess. Am I right?" He took a monstrouse bite of his chicken. "Just wait until she tells you how they stole that island from the prince. That was a fun one, wasn't it?"
As he looked up from his tray a sudden feeling of fear flashed through his chest. Amanda was glaring sharply at him. The little flea knew she was the only thing standing between her teddy bear and certain death. Sweetly, she hooked her little arm around Amanda's and leaned her head against her shoulder. "What about the prince? Was he handsome? How did they steal an entire island?"
Amanda looked down at the little flea and, noticing the Goliath beside them had no bread, she grabbed the baguette on her tray and broke it into three pieces. One she placed in front of her, another in front of her miniature mischief maker and the last piece she set on the man's tray. She sighed and looked at him saying "I guess, sometimes it's best to...."
The man finished her thought...."Break the bread both ways."
He smirked and grabbed the bread. "I remember that one too."