Wendy didn't know why she gave money to that boy. Her father had always told her not to encourage beggars. "It gives them no incentive to work," he would proclaim, adjusting his bland tie. He always wore a tie, and they were always bland. "There's no need to facilitate indolence in this city," he would say with finality as he steered his children away.
Perhaps she had been intrigued by the boy's sign: LOST MY SHADOW. NEED HELP. It was an unusual plea amongst the other cardboard petitions held by vagrants on the street. Or maybe she had been compelled by his bright green eyes. In the half second that she looked in those eyes she felt like she knew everything about him and yet nothing at all. And the fact that he had made eye contact was unusual, if not a bit unnerving. None of the other beggars ever looked her in the eye, much less smiled at her, but smile at her he did, and before she knew what she was doing she had pulled a few bills from her pocket and dropped them at his feet. She even lingered for a moment to return his clumsy smile before realizing how bizarre the situation was.
She shook her head as she continued down the street. She didn't have time to wonder about the odd beggar boy on the corner. She didn't even have time to admire her favorite buildings along her route. Today the new regional inspector, Mrs. Carnivera, was coming to the children's home where Wendy worked, and if the rumors circulating the city were true, this particular inspector was horrific. Several homes had been closed in the last month due to the near impossible standards imposed by this monstrous woman. Mrs. Nancy had taken on three more children as the other homes scrambled to relocate their wards, so everyone was already under more stress than usual. Mrs. Nancy's Children's Home for Boys was reputed as one of the most suitable locations for orphaned and destitute youth in London, and Wendy prayed that they could hold up under Mrs. Carnivera's formidable scrutiny.
The wind picked up and Wendy pulled the hood of her jacket over her head as she turned onto Barrie Street. She knew it would make her already messy brown hair even more untidy, but these days she didn't care much about her appearance. Mrs. Nancy's Children's Home for Boys stood out from the other buildings on Barrie Street thanks to the hideous mauve shutters that clashed with its dirty red brick. Wendy ran up the crumbling steps and was about to ring the bell when the door was thrown open.
"Miss Wendy! Miss Wendy! The oven exploded!" Trevor sang, his curly red hair flopping up and down as he danced around. "There are ashes everywhere!"
Wendy tried to usher the gleeful toddler inside, but soon Mrs. Nancy appeared in the doorway, her plump figure coated with a layer of ash.
"Wendy! Thank goodness you're here! Nana has gotten sick all over the stairs, and Eugene is playing in it!"
Usually Wendy would be squeamish about mopping up dog vomit, but today she went quickly to the pantry to fetch some gloves, rags, and solution, and then set to work. When she had finished that task, she continued on to the bedrooms and discovered that while she and Mrs. Nancy had been occupied with the stairs and the oven, two children had upended all of the toy chests and were now playing in the toilet.
"Zachary! Duke!"
The two 6-year-olds gasped and stood at attention.
"Wash your hands and change your clothes right now!" Wendy ordered. The two boys turned around and jostled one another for a turn at the sink. "And when you're done changing, come back and put those toys away."
"Yes, Miss Wendy," they answered, smiling innocently. She gently patted their heads as they ran by. She once again donned her cleaning gloves and hunkered down to wipe the water off the tiled floor. After a few moments Mrs. Nancy bustled in.
"Oh dear! What happened?"
"A couple of rascals thought they were plumbers."
Mrs. Nancy smiled. She was probably the only person in London who could constantly smile at messes and bad behavior, which, Wendy supposed, was what made her a perfect candidate for running a children's home.
"Bless them," Mrs. Nancy sighed, putting her hand on her heart. But in the next instant she became flustered. "Wendy, could you run to the kitchen? Trevor has disabled the security system again."
Wendy strained her ears and could just make out the faint beeping that indicated the alarm was down.
"Just let me finish this up and I'll fix it," Wendy replied.
The kitchen smelled slightly of burned toast and chemicals, but there was otherwise no sign of the disaster that had occurred in the oven. Wendy looked around and spotted a little shoe poking out from underneath the pantry door.
"Trevor?"
"I'm in the space rocket!" Came the muffled voice. "We're about to launch!"
Wendy snorted and opened the pantry door. Trevor was sitting on a shelf with a salad bowl on his head and two fist fulls of animal shaped crackers. He smiled unabashedly up at her.
"Five, four, three, two, one, blast off!" He shouted and jumped into Wendy's ready arms. The bowl fell off his head and clanged to the floor, revealing his red curls.
"Trevor!" Wendy laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Why did you shut off the security system again?"
"I was trying to see how it works," the boy replied, munching on his crackers.
"Would you like to watch me reset it?"
"Yeah!"
Wendy punched in the complicated code and then shut the panel. But before she had a chance to set Trevor down, he reached over, whipped open the panel, and repeated the pattern Wendy had just entered. She stared at him.
"You are one brilliant little man," she said, tweaking his nose and setting him on the floor. "Now go help the others clean up."
"Yes, Miss Wendy!" He called as he scampered out of the kitchen.
Wendy sighed. She'd been working for Mrs. Nancy for just over a year, but she'd grown to love these boys as if they were her own little brothers. Zachary and Duke had come in the same week and were endlessly mischievous. These two factors made them inseparable. Matthew, at age 11, was the oldest boy in the house and had lived there the longest. Even though he was quiet and heartbreakingly sensitive, he was uncommonly endearing. And Trevor, who came to Mrs. Nancy three years ago when he was only 2, was in constant danger of being electrocuted. His inquiring and ingenious mind had him pulling apart electronics and devices all over the house, often merging them into some new, perilous invention. Wendy naturally favored him because of his creativity and guileless demeanor, but also because his smile reminded her of her brother Michael.
There were moments when Wendy could almost pretend the accident had never happened. But most of the time the memories lodged themselves in the weakest parts of her heart and spread their tentacles throughout her mind and body, causing a dull and relentless aching. At her worst, Wendy would wake in the middle of the night, consumed with grief and guilt, crying out in incomprehensible pleadings until her mother came to comfort her.
Two years ago, for her fifteenth birthday, Wendy had persuaded her family to go on a cruise to Norway. Her father was the most hesitant, being very concerned about the finances, but he finally conceded after Wendy's daily begging and promises of how much fun they would all have. She was only concerned about having fun back then.
The trip had started off splendidly. They had reveled in all the food, shows, and activities the ship had to offer. Michael and John had their hearts set on seeing whales, so when they reached Norway, Wendy's father and brothers joined a whale watching tour while she and her mother explored the city of Bergen. She remembered the magical houses along the shore and laughing with her mother as they tried on silly hats in a shop. One perfect day before her world fell apart.
When they got back to the ship that evening, the whale watching tour had not yet returned. Tensions mounted on the ship as hours passed and the group was still missing. It was past midnight when a local naval authority informed them that the boat had been seized by marauders and everyone on board had been killed.
Wendy was awoken from her dark thoughts by a large, black Newfoundland running into the kitchen and nearly knocking her over.
"Nana!" Wendy exclaimed, kneeling down and scratching the dog's neck. "What on earth did you eat to make such a mess on the stairs?"
"We gave her some chocolate ice cream last night!" Duke called from the other room.
"And she loved it!" Zachary added proudly.
Mrs. Nancy rushed in, nervously flailing her arms about.
"She's coming! I saw her in the street! She'll be here in seconds! Get that dog out of here!"
Matthew, Zachary, and Oliver had followed Mrs. Nancy into the kitchen, curious about the spectacle she was making. Wendy quickly put Nana outside, wiped an unidentifiable green substance off of Zachary's mouth, and ushered the boys to their rooms. The bell rang twice. Wendy helped Mrs. Nancy dust off the remaining ashes from her yellow dress and stood back as the frazzled woman went to open the door.