Ellie stepped tentatively into the alley. The nearly spent sun cast the rooms in a shadowy, golden glow. Between the rows, crumbling pavement had been haphazardly repaired with coarse gravel. Her eyes followed the trail of quilt-work patching until it ended at a street.
Ellie looked at the street apprehensively. She knew there was nowhere else to go, but fear gripped her. She had to force herself to move, walking stiffly past the lifeless, sullen rooms. Some had tattered drapes drawn tight against the world. Others were thrown open; their hazy windows staring empty yet defiant.
Ellie approached the street timidly, stopping apprehensively at the end of the alley. She found it alive with activity: people bustling about, shopping, working. But something was wrong. To Ellie, it seemed as if these people were racing about in a near panic. She could see the tension etched on their drawn faces. One overweight woman, clutching a bag stuffed with groceries to her bosom, broke into a frenzied trot, nearly staggering down the sidewalk until she turned the corner and out of Ellie's sight.
From up and down the street came a cacophony of sounds. The shuffling of feet, hasty goodbyes, shouted warnings. From the shops came the sounds of slamming doors and iron security gates being lowered into place.
Ellie turned at the braying of a horn. From up the street an eerily silent automobile barreled past her, its occupants grim-faced. As it passed, Ellie noticed a large, crimson stain on the pavement in the middle of the road. Her eyes locked onto it and her heart began to race. Blood. Its edges streamed out in violent streaks like the rays of an evil sun.
"Godspeed, you must hurry, miss!" a man's voice urged from behind her. "The Reckoning is almost upon us!"
Ellie turned with a start, the stain in the road forgotten. For a split second she thought it was the man from the room, but it was not. He was a shop keeper dressed in a dirty white apron. He was a big man, his dark, greasy hair parted in the middle. He was wiping his hands on a towel.
Again, Ellie was unable to speak.
The man looked her up and down appraisingly. When his eyes finally reached to her face, she saw a flash of disgust. "Hurry, you crazy whore! The Reckoning! Do you wish to die?" He turned and scurried away.
Ellie blinked. The word whore had roused her. "28 Mercury?" she blurted out after him. "Please, sir, do you know of such a place?"
The man turned briefly. "It's around the corner, crazy whore!" he spat. "I don't know why I wasted my time with your kind! Be food for the Nazgul for all I care!"
Ellie watched him rush away, unnerved, but she had felt the urgency in his words, the raw emotion they conveyed. Something terrible was about to happen. These people were more than just afraid. They were scared to death.
"The Reckoning," she whispered. The man in the room had mentioned it as he left, now this man, too. It sounded ominous. She was in no condition for ominous, but she couldn't ignore it now, could she? The man in the apron had been rude, but he had not been lying. The Reckoning was coming and whatever it was--it was bad.
The street was almost empty now, and as Ellie began to hurry toward a place called 28 Mercury. She hoped she was not too late. The sun was now below the horizon, and within minutes it would be fully dark. The Reckoning was tied to the darkness, her mind told her as she ran. Something to do with the dark…
Sirens filled the air; low, growling howls that ascended the scale until they reached a high-pitched whine. They awakened a deep, instinctive fear within her, a soul memory of another time and place. "The Reckoning!" a voice within her cried. "The Reckoning! Any minute, any second! Now!"
Panic engulfed her. She ran as wildly as the others now, her black bag bouncing against her hip, a scream choked in her throat, still unsure of where she was going. Her panic should have invited death, but it didn't. Somehow Ellie found herself standing in front of a heavy bronze-colored door. Its highly polished surface glimmered even in the failing light. On it the number 28 was mounted in large, hefty numerals.
She lunged toward the door. "It will be locked!" her mind chimed in strange harmony with the siren. You will be locked out to face The Reckoning alone!"
She leaned her full weight against the door, and to her dismay, it slid open as smoothly as a well-oiled gate into a flowery garden. She fell forward, sprawling onto a massive foyer. The door closed behind her with a bang. Ellie yelped with surprise. She raised her head from the tiled floor to see a pair of black, thick-soled shoes standing in front of her.
"Godspeed, that was not very smart, Ms. Lewis," a woman's voice said with a smirk. "In less than a minute the door would have locked automatically, and you would have prematurely perished."
Ellie looked up. It was a stout woman of about sixty, short gray hair, a deeply lined face. She wore a limp gray dress with a white collar.
"Ms. Lewis, we here at 28 Mercury pride ourselves in observance of all laws of the New Colony," the woman said. "I am proud to say that in the eight years I have managed this facility, not one of my people have succumbed to The Reckoning by accident. Not a one."
Ellie held her breath. Behind her, heavy cylinders clanked loudly as the door locked. The woman looked at Ellie and frowned.
"When we allowed you your limited time here, it was under the strict understanding that you would abide by the rules. We allowed you here even though your kind should be at 42 Mercury with the rest of the riffraff. Now, aside from the fact that I find you and your present occupation personally repulsive, your presence here came in the form of a command. A command from Her Excellency the Mission Controller, no less. Humph!" the woman added for emphasis.
"Still, your residency, even if temporary, is nonetheless probationary. Command or not, you may find yourself out on the street where you belong. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Lewis?"
"Yes," Ellie replied.
"Yes, what?" the woman demanded.
"Yes--ma'am?" Ellie replied, as she climbed heavily to her knees.
"Better. The evening meal will be served in one unit. If you wish to attend, please be sure to shower and change those tawdry clothes. Do you understand, Ms. Ellie?"
"Yes, ma'am, Ellie replied.
The woman turned and started down a long corridor, her black shoes clicking across the spotless tile floor.
"Ma'am?" Ellie called after her.
The woman stopped, the echo of her shoes lingering for a long moment. She turned and glared. "What now, Ms. Lewis?"
"Which, which, apartment is mine?" Ellie asked nervously. It was a dangerously revealing question, but she had no other choice.
The woman sighed with disdain. "Godspeed, you are a pitiful creature, aren't you, Ms. Lewis?" she said.
"Yes, ma'am," Ellie replied. "I suppose I am."
The woman turned away. "91, Ms. Lewis," she called as she walked, her heals once again clicking. "Berth 91."
Ellie watched the woman until she disappeared through a doorway, then pulled herself up on shaky legs. She looked back at the door that had delivered her to 28 Mercury. It had shut and locked with a dreadful finality. What was this Reckoning? Ellie wondered. What horrible things were going on outside that door?
Ellie pushed her sweat dampened hair away from her eyes. Tears once again threatened, but she willed them away. Fanning out to her left and straight ahead were two more hallways. She considered which way to go.
"Straight ahead, Ellie" she told herself. "Hold your head high and go straight ahead."
The room numbers were once again multiples of seven. Midway down the hall, Ellie found berth 91. She dug around in the black bag, found the identification card, and slid it into a slot above the doorknob. How she knew this would work, she hadn't a clue. There was a soft click and the door opened. Overhead lights flickered on automatically. It was a small room, long and narrow; no more than ten by thirty feet, painted a pale shade of yellow (Like his suspenders, she thought). There were two opposing doors at the room's middle, right and left.
Ellie entered apprehensively. The room revealed itself as an amazing example of efficiency; everything compact and cleverly planned. At the rear of the apartment, a narrow bed was recessed into a wall, across from it a retractable table and two folding chairs.
The door on her left, she discovered, led to a tidy kitchenette. She glanced in briefly then turned to the opposing door. It was a bathroom. Ellie dropped her bag to the floor, and mesmerized, entered the room. Everything that had occurred since she had awakened in that seedy room was forgotten. She quickly threw off her clothes and stepped greedily into the shower. She needed to wash away not only the grime that permeated her body, but the filth and heartache that was lodged within her.
Ellie took her time. She washed herself carefully, shampooed her hair, then stood hungrily under the hot, soothing spray. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was two people in one. The other person, the one lurking at the edge of her memory, was not remotely like her, but somehow in their hearts the two were the same. They were like twins joined in a weird cosmic dance, and for reasons unknown, a part of each life had leaked into the other.
She reluctantly stepped from the refuge of the shower. Before her was a large mirror mounted above the sink. The mirror was bordered by small decorative drawings of the same odd-looking birds that were on the currency. She counted seven across the top and seven more down each side. On the counter top were all the things a woman needed to ready herself for the day: toothpaste and brush, deodorant, make up, a hair dryer and a brush and comb set.
She looked down at herself feeling uneasily like a voyeur. To add to her unease, she found her nakedness pleased her, as she was sure it pleased the men she apparently serviced. She sensed then she was a woman who could arouse intense passion, both in herself and in those around her. The knowledge filled her with a strange mix of power and sadness.
Ellie carefully toweled herself and combed out her long brown hair. In a cleverly concealed closet she found ample clothing, some blatantly sexy, the trappings of a whore, others practical, even utilitarian, in design. Ellie selected a modest, light blue jump suit and slipped it on over simple, white cotton underwear. On the closet floor she found a comfortable pair of shoes. She laughed. Comfortable shoes. Why did she find the concept so funny?
Once dressed, the image of her as a prostitute began to fade, but she knew this feeling of well-being would be transitory. She needed to solve the mystery she found herself in before she went mad. She looked around the apartment hoping to discover any clues. At its far end her eyes locked on a window covered by a strong iron shutter. Ellie stared at it wild-eyed.
"The Reckoning," she whispered with a shiver. She went to it feeling both repulsed and compelled and placed an ear against its cold steel. Screaming. She heard distant screaming and the trampling of feet. There is mayhem outside, her mind told her, and cold panic. Terror in the streets that leaves blood stains in its wake.
She ran her fingers down the shutter's unyielding steel until they found a latch connected to a long safety bar. She toyed with it, testing the pressure that would be required to release it. What terrible secret did it hide?
"Godspeed, get away from that window!" a male voice said from behind her.
Ellie whirled around. There was a man, no not a man, a teenager perhaps, standing in the doorway. He was slight, surely no taller than her with closely cropped black hair. He wore thick glasses framing an acne scarred face. He was looking at her with concern.
"Who, who are you?" Ellie stammered. "How did you get in here?"
The young man frowned. "He's, he's, sorry, Ellie," he stuttered. "The door wasn't shut. Benny saw the light, so he came in."
Ellie looked furtively around the room and cursed herself. The thought of a hot shower had mesmerized her so much she had forgotten to secure the door, forgotten about her safety. Her mind raced. She had to be careful how she spoke. She had to be careful not to let this young man know she was a fraud.
"Tell me who you are and what you want or I will call the authorities," she bluffed in the boldest, most confident voice she could muster.
The young man looked at her oddly, wondering if Ellie was joking. "Why, he's Benny," he said, pointing at himself. "Benny Knuckles. He lives across the hall in berth 98. You and Benny are friends," he added hopefully.
Ellie relaxed a little. In spite of his odd way of speaking, the young man didn't appear to be a threat.
"What's wrong with you, Ellie?" he asked with genuine concern. "You okay? Benny thought you'd still be asleep. Did some guy hit you or something?"
Ellie ignored his questions. "Benny Knuckles, you say? Is that really your name?"
The young man shrugged and looked faintly embarrassed. "Who'd make up a name like Benny Knuckles?"
Ellie felt bad for teasing this young man. "I suppose you're right," she said.
Benny pointed at the steel shade. "You weren't really going to open the window, were you, Ellie?" he asked grimly.
"What if I did?"
Benny stared.
"What if I did, Mr. Knuckles?" Ellie demanded. "Tell me, what would happen?"
Benny cleared his throat. "Well, it's still early. It's said they leave the mountain nests until the sun is fully down. Probably nothing would happen. But then again..."
Ellie took a step forward, urgency prodding her. She wanted to know more. She needed to know more, and she damn well would know more! She stopped. Something had caught her eye. In the kitchenette, a square message board was mounted on a wall. Tacked to it was a badly worm photograph.
"Oh!" Ellie moaned with dim recognition. Benny and The Reckoning were forgotten.
Ellie went to the photograph, her arm outstretched, fingers anxious with anticipation and yanked it from the message board. She held it close, tears welling, her lips trembling, her fingers moving lovingly over the image. It was of a little girl in a bright yellow dress. Yellow like the color of her room, the color of a stranger’s suspenders. Her precious smile broke Ellie's heart. She had long ringlets of golden hair and sea green eyes that gazed at the camera with innocence and love. Ellie felt weak in the knees. There was something wrong. One thin leg was strapped in a heavy steel brace. She was sitting awkwardly on a bench, her injured leg looking uncomfortable.
Ellie looked at Benny. "This girl," Ellie said hoarsely. "Who is she?"
Benny paled. He looked as if he wished he had never entered the room.
"Tell me, Benny," Ellie said fiercely. "Who is she?"
"Why, it's, it’s your daughter," Benny Knuckles stammered. "Or at least that's what you've told Benny. Don't you remember her, Ellie?"
"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "Where is my daughter?"
Benny gulped hard. He didn't want to answer that question. Maybe he could dash back to his room and hide. But he liked being with her, even in the grasp of her despair. She made him feel alive and meaningful. The gulf of silence grew, and he knew the question would not go away. Ellie would not be denied the truth even if it was horrible. He had to answer.
"She's..." Benny stopped and began again. "Why, she's dead, Ellie. Don't you remember? She's dead."
Ellie looked at the street apprehensively. She knew there was nowhere else to go, but fear gripped her. She had to force herself to move, walking stiffly past the lifeless, sullen rooms. Some had tattered drapes drawn tight against the world. Others were thrown open; their hazy windows staring empty yet defiant.
Ellie approached the street timidly, stopping apprehensively at the end of the alley. She found it alive with activity: people bustling about, shopping, working. But something was wrong. To Ellie, it seemed as if these people were racing about in a near panic. She could see the tension etched on their drawn faces. One overweight woman, clutching a bag stuffed with groceries to her bosom, broke into a frenzied trot, nearly staggering down the sidewalk until she turned the corner and out of Ellie's sight.
From up and down the street came a cacophony of sounds. The shuffling of feet, hasty goodbyes, shouted warnings. From the shops came the sounds of slamming doors and iron security gates being lowered into place.
Ellie turned at the braying of a horn. From up the street an eerily silent automobile barreled past her, its occupants grim-faced. As it passed, Ellie noticed a large, crimson stain on the pavement in the middle of the road. Her eyes locked onto it and her heart began to race. Blood. Its edges streamed out in violent streaks like the rays of an evil sun.
"Godspeed, you must hurry, miss!" a man's voice urged from behind her. "The Reckoning is almost upon us!"
Ellie turned with a start, the stain in the road forgotten. For a split second she thought it was the man from the room, but it was not. He was a shop keeper dressed in a dirty white apron. He was a big man, his dark, greasy hair parted in the middle. He was wiping his hands on a towel.
Again, Ellie was unable to speak.
The man looked her up and down appraisingly. When his eyes finally reached to her face, she saw a flash of disgust. "Hurry, you crazy whore! The Reckoning! Do you wish to die?" He turned and scurried away.
Ellie blinked. The word whore had roused her. "28 Mercury?" she blurted out after him. "Please, sir, do you know of such a place?"
The man turned briefly. "It's around the corner, crazy whore!" he spat. "I don't know why I wasted my time with your kind! Be food for the Nazgul for all I care!"
Ellie watched him rush away, unnerved, but she had felt the urgency in his words, the raw emotion they conveyed. Something terrible was about to happen. These people were more than just afraid. They were scared to death.
"The Reckoning," she whispered. The man in the room had mentioned it as he left, now this man, too. It sounded ominous. She was in no condition for ominous, but she couldn't ignore it now, could she? The man in the apron had been rude, but he had not been lying. The Reckoning was coming and whatever it was--it was bad.
The street was almost empty now, and as Ellie began to hurry toward a place called 28 Mercury. She hoped she was not too late. The sun was now below the horizon, and within minutes it would be fully dark. The Reckoning was tied to the darkness, her mind told her as she ran. Something to do with the dark…
Sirens filled the air; low, growling howls that ascended the scale until they reached a high-pitched whine. They awakened a deep, instinctive fear within her, a soul memory of another time and place. "The Reckoning!" a voice within her cried. "The Reckoning! Any minute, any second! Now!"
Panic engulfed her. She ran as wildly as the others now, her black bag bouncing against her hip, a scream choked in her throat, still unsure of where she was going. Her panic should have invited death, but it didn't. Somehow Ellie found herself standing in front of a heavy bronze-colored door. Its highly polished surface glimmered even in the failing light. On it the number 28 was mounted in large, hefty numerals.
She lunged toward the door. "It will be locked!" her mind chimed in strange harmony with the siren. You will be locked out to face The Reckoning alone!"
She leaned her full weight against the door, and to her dismay, it slid open as smoothly as a well-oiled gate into a flowery garden. She fell forward, sprawling onto a massive foyer. The door closed behind her with a bang. Ellie yelped with surprise. She raised her head from the tiled floor to see a pair of black, thick-soled shoes standing in front of her.
"Godspeed, that was not very smart, Ms. Lewis," a woman's voice said with a smirk. "In less than a minute the door would have locked automatically, and you would have prematurely perished."
Ellie looked up. It was a stout woman of about sixty, short gray hair, a deeply lined face. She wore a limp gray dress with a white collar.
"Ms. Lewis, we here at 28 Mercury pride ourselves in observance of all laws of the New Colony," the woman said. "I am proud to say that in the eight years I have managed this facility, not one of my people have succumbed to The Reckoning by accident. Not a one."
Ellie held her breath. Behind her, heavy cylinders clanked loudly as the door locked. The woman looked at Ellie and frowned.
"When we allowed you your limited time here, it was under the strict understanding that you would abide by the rules. We allowed you here even though your kind should be at 42 Mercury with the rest of the riffraff. Now, aside from the fact that I find you and your present occupation personally repulsive, your presence here came in the form of a command. A command from Her Excellency the Mission Controller, no less. Humph!" the woman added for emphasis.
"Still, your residency, even if temporary, is nonetheless probationary. Command or not, you may find yourself out on the street where you belong. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Lewis?"
"Yes," Ellie replied.
"Yes, what?" the woman demanded.
"Yes--ma'am?" Ellie replied, as she climbed heavily to her knees.
"Better. The evening meal will be served in one unit. If you wish to attend, please be sure to shower and change those tawdry clothes. Do you understand, Ms. Ellie?"
"Yes, ma'am, Ellie replied.
The woman turned and started down a long corridor, her black shoes clicking across the spotless tile floor.
"Ma'am?" Ellie called after her.
The woman stopped, the echo of her shoes lingering for a long moment. She turned and glared. "What now, Ms. Lewis?"
"Which, which, apartment is mine?" Ellie asked nervously. It was a dangerously revealing question, but she had no other choice.
The woman sighed with disdain. "Godspeed, you are a pitiful creature, aren't you, Ms. Lewis?" she said.
"Yes, ma'am," Ellie replied. "I suppose I am."
The woman turned away. "91, Ms. Lewis," she called as she walked, her heals once again clicking. "Berth 91."
Ellie watched the woman until she disappeared through a doorway, then pulled herself up on shaky legs. She looked back at the door that had delivered her to 28 Mercury. It had shut and locked with a dreadful finality. What was this Reckoning? Ellie wondered. What horrible things were going on outside that door?
Ellie pushed her sweat dampened hair away from her eyes. Tears once again threatened, but she willed them away. Fanning out to her left and straight ahead were two more hallways. She considered which way to go.
"Straight ahead, Ellie" she told herself. "Hold your head high and go straight ahead."
The room numbers were once again multiples of seven. Midway down the hall, Ellie found berth 91. She dug around in the black bag, found the identification card, and slid it into a slot above the doorknob. How she knew this would work, she hadn't a clue. There was a soft click and the door opened. Overhead lights flickered on automatically. It was a small room, long and narrow; no more than ten by thirty feet, painted a pale shade of yellow (Like his suspenders, she thought). There were two opposing doors at the room's middle, right and left.
Ellie entered apprehensively. The room revealed itself as an amazing example of efficiency; everything compact and cleverly planned. At the rear of the apartment, a narrow bed was recessed into a wall, across from it a retractable table and two folding chairs.
The door on her left, she discovered, led to a tidy kitchenette. She glanced in briefly then turned to the opposing door. It was a bathroom. Ellie dropped her bag to the floor, and mesmerized, entered the room. Everything that had occurred since she had awakened in that seedy room was forgotten. She quickly threw off her clothes and stepped greedily into the shower. She needed to wash away not only the grime that permeated her body, but the filth and heartache that was lodged within her.
Ellie took her time. She washed herself carefully, shampooed her hair, then stood hungrily under the hot, soothing spray. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was two people in one. The other person, the one lurking at the edge of her memory, was not remotely like her, but somehow in their hearts the two were the same. They were like twins joined in a weird cosmic dance, and for reasons unknown, a part of each life had leaked into the other.
She reluctantly stepped from the refuge of the shower. Before her was a large mirror mounted above the sink. The mirror was bordered by small decorative drawings of the same odd-looking birds that were on the currency. She counted seven across the top and seven more down each side. On the counter top were all the things a woman needed to ready herself for the day: toothpaste and brush, deodorant, make up, a hair dryer and a brush and comb set.
She looked down at herself feeling uneasily like a voyeur. To add to her unease, she found her nakedness pleased her, as she was sure it pleased the men she apparently serviced. She sensed then she was a woman who could arouse intense passion, both in herself and in those around her. The knowledge filled her with a strange mix of power and sadness.
Ellie carefully toweled herself and combed out her long brown hair. In a cleverly concealed closet she found ample clothing, some blatantly sexy, the trappings of a whore, others practical, even utilitarian, in design. Ellie selected a modest, light blue jump suit and slipped it on over simple, white cotton underwear. On the closet floor she found a comfortable pair of shoes. She laughed. Comfortable shoes. Why did she find the concept so funny?
Once dressed, the image of her as a prostitute began to fade, but she knew this feeling of well-being would be transitory. She needed to solve the mystery she found herself in before she went mad. She looked around the apartment hoping to discover any clues. At its far end her eyes locked on a window covered by a strong iron shutter. Ellie stared at it wild-eyed.
"The Reckoning," she whispered with a shiver. She went to it feeling both repulsed and compelled and placed an ear against its cold steel. Screaming. She heard distant screaming and the trampling of feet. There is mayhem outside, her mind told her, and cold panic. Terror in the streets that leaves blood stains in its wake.
She ran her fingers down the shutter's unyielding steel until they found a latch connected to a long safety bar. She toyed with it, testing the pressure that would be required to release it. What terrible secret did it hide?
"Godspeed, get away from that window!" a male voice said from behind her.
Ellie whirled around. There was a man, no not a man, a teenager perhaps, standing in the doorway. He was slight, surely no taller than her with closely cropped black hair. He wore thick glasses framing an acne scarred face. He was looking at her with concern.
"Who, who are you?" Ellie stammered. "How did you get in here?"
The young man frowned. "He's, he's, sorry, Ellie," he stuttered. "The door wasn't shut. Benny saw the light, so he came in."
Ellie looked furtively around the room and cursed herself. The thought of a hot shower had mesmerized her so much she had forgotten to secure the door, forgotten about her safety. Her mind raced. She had to be careful how she spoke. She had to be careful not to let this young man know she was a fraud.
"Tell me who you are and what you want or I will call the authorities," she bluffed in the boldest, most confident voice she could muster.
The young man looked at her oddly, wondering if Ellie was joking. "Why, he's Benny," he said, pointing at himself. "Benny Knuckles. He lives across the hall in berth 98. You and Benny are friends," he added hopefully.
Ellie relaxed a little. In spite of his odd way of speaking, the young man didn't appear to be a threat.
"What's wrong with you, Ellie?" he asked with genuine concern. "You okay? Benny thought you'd still be asleep. Did some guy hit you or something?"
Ellie ignored his questions. "Benny Knuckles, you say? Is that really your name?"
The young man shrugged and looked faintly embarrassed. "Who'd make up a name like Benny Knuckles?"
Ellie felt bad for teasing this young man. "I suppose you're right," she said.
Benny pointed at the steel shade. "You weren't really going to open the window, were you, Ellie?" he asked grimly.
"What if I did?"
Benny stared.
"What if I did, Mr. Knuckles?" Ellie demanded. "Tell me, what would happen?"
Benny cleared his throat. "Well, it's still early. It's said they leave the mountain nests until the sun is fully down. Probably nothing would happen. But then again..."
Ellie took a step forward, urgency prodding her. She wanted to know more. She needed to know more, and she damn well would know more! She stopped. Something had caught her eye. In the kitchenette, a square message board was mounted on a wall. Tacked to it was a badly worm photograph.
"Oh!" Ellie moaned with dim recognition. Benny and The Reckoning were forgotten.
Ellie went to the photograph, her arm outstretched, fingers anxious with anticipation and yanked it from the message board. She held it close, tears welling, her lips trembling, her fingers moving lovingly over the image. It was of a little girl in a bright yellow dress. Yellow like the color of her room, the color of a stranger’s suspenders. Her precious smile broke Ellie's heart. She had long ringlets of golden hair and sea green eyes that gazed at the camera with innocence and love. Ellie felt weak in the knees. There was something wrong. One thin leg was strapped in a heavy steel brace. She was sitting awkwardly on a bench, her injured leg looking uncomfortable.
Ellie looked at Benny. "This girl," Ellie said hoarsely. "Who is she?"
Benny paled. He looked as if he wished he had never entered the room.
"Tell me, Benny," Ellie said fiercely. "Who is she?"
"Why, it's, it’s your daughter," Benny Knuckles stammered. "Or at least that's what you've told Benny. Don't you remember her, Ellie?"
"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "Where is my daughter?"
Benny gulped hard. He didn't want to answer that question. Maybe he could dash back to his room and hide. But he liked being with her, even in the grasp of her despair. She made him feel alive and meaningful. The gulf of silence grew, and he knew the question would not go away. Ellie would not be denied the truth even if it was horrible. He had to answer.
"She's..." Benny stopped and began again. "Why, she's dead, Ellie. Don't you remember? She's dead."
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