Chapter 3 - Life Outside the Orphanage ... Seems to Be Much Harder?

It's been more than two weeks since Dorothy Miller left the orphanage, but it seemed to Elizabeth that a human lifespan passed since then.

She still did not get used to the thought that she would never see again the one who was always with her. That’s why, she seemed to see her every day sitting at the table where they usually ate, waiting for her in their room, or going down the stairs ...

Not once did she run after her, grabbed her by hand, took her in her arms and held her tight and ... and only then did she see that it wasn't Dorothy Miller, but another girl. Every time it was like this ...

Could it be anything harder than losing the last person who really cared about you? The only family you ever had ... when you were meant to not have no family ...

…

“Hello,” an elegantly dressed gentleman, wearing a long black coat to his knees over an expensive suit, with lacquered leather shoes, as only a lord could wear greeted respectfully. The gentleman just entered a small office.

Under the stylish hat, one could see how his hair, which had once been completely golden, began to get the hue of silver. His movements were so skilful that he seemed to be trained at the Queen's most famous school of courtesans.

Only his huge glasses, under which two sky blue eyes kept shining, did not seem to be part of his outlook. Those glasses placed on the slightly turned-up nose, almost completely lessened the handsome physical features of the elegant gentleman.

The other gentleman, who sat at an office as old as himself, on a chair without a back, was the director of the orphanage.

“I'm Mr. Harp ... Aaron Harp. How can I help you ... so early?” the orphanage director said staring at the modest watch he was proudly wearing on his wrist.

“Benjamin ... Green,” the smart gentleman introduced himself.

Mr. Harp was an older man, bald, neatly dressed but rather modest, being fat and round like a donut.

It was obvious that he did not feel very comfortable in the presence of the well-dressed gentleman. He felt… inferior. And this bothered him far more than anything, even more than the fact that the children in that orphanage had nothing to eat that morning.

“I came after one of the children.”

“Really…? I have to tell you that it is not so easy to get a child. You need an important signature from ...”

“I have an order from the Social Assistance Organization ... it is signed, stamped. Sealed ... absolutely everything.”

Mr Green called a boy:

“Johnny, get my bag!”

A boy of about eleven years old, cleanly dressed, but with stitched, too small clothes for his age, as thin as a stick and blond as if he were born from the sun's rays when they touched the earth, ran to the two gentlemen. He came in a flash with that bag. The boy stopped near Mr. Benjamin's chair and waited quietly.

Mr. Harp watched Mr. Benjamin taking out a paper bearing a bright red seal. When the letter was handed to him, he broke the seal and read the paper. It was indeed signed and stamped. And the frown on his face made it clear that he was extremely unhappy.

“So ... you came after Elizabeth Edwards. We waited for someone else. But, an order is an order.”

He stood up and walked to the door.

“Michael! Go and bring Elizabeth Catherine Edwards to my office. Tell her to get ready because she is leaving!”

Then he went back to his office.

“You know, we are sorry we lose Elizabeth from our care home. We love this girl very much ...”

“I'm sure Mr. Harp,” Mr. Benjamin smiled obviously ironically.

Mr. Harp began to walk calmly around the bookcase in his office. He has some diplomas displayed on this bookcase with insignificant achievements of his. Nothing special, considering that they were just papers, but very important to him ... because these papers fuelled his pride and lack of modesty.

“I manage this orphanage for two decades. Two decades when over two hundred children came to live here. Two hundred and seventeen children more exactly. And of these children, only fourteen left sooner, killed by various diseases.”

He turned quickly and looked at Mr. Benjamin, smiling:

“You know this means less than ten per cent.”

“A little over six per cent actually ... but that's less important. Poor children ...”

“And for over seven years ... this little girl came to us. This Elizabeth Edwards. Who brought me more trouble than joy.”

“We make our trouble or happiness, Mr. Harp...”

“You know I think that ...”

But Mr. Harp didn't finish his words. Elizabeth entered the door.

“Good day, kid, don't you know how to say hello?”

The girl looked at Mr. Benjamin. His presence somewhat frightened her ...

“Especially since he will be ... the one to replace me from now on. He will be your father.”

“My father is dead,” said the little girl half-heartedly.

Yet, she looked at Mr. Benjamin respectfully, whom she could not treat otherwise, especially if you compared him to Harp. So she greeted him decently:

“Good day.”

Mr. Benjamin slightly bowed his head in greeting, without smiling.

“Sometimes there are some ...” Harp searched for his words but could not find them.

“Some little rats, some bitches,” Mr. Benjamin ended Harp’s words, standing up. “These kids think life is easy outside the orphanage. That’s not true. They don't understand that we help them survive. We offer them a warm fireplace, a glass of water and some food. We offer them life... without us they would be dead. Instead we just want a little gratitude.”

Mr. Harp began to like this elegant gentleman in all respects, so he approved him with gentle movements of his head, all smiles.

“You're right.”

Mr. Benjamin looked at one of Mr. Harp's diplomas carefully. Then he looked at Mr. Harp and smiled:

“Unfortunately, Mr. Harp, only these papers acknowledged your intense involvement and your sacrifice to save these children. No matter how many qualities we have, people don’t know how to appreciate us. However, I promise I will talk to the Director of the Association and you will surely be rewarded accordingly.”

Harp was swept up by Mr. Green's words his eyes twinkling with joy as someone finally recognized his merits and nodded his head to show that he really deserved more for the sacrifice he made.

“They do not see children as we see them ... some little letches, who want to have everything readymade.”

Mr. Benjamin frowned at Johnny as he spoke these words. Mr. Harp was crazy about this man so precisely for his taste.

“This girl for example. I will take her and feed her and offer her a warm bed. Without having a claim from her. Just a little help ... to earn some money so I can feed her. Because money doesn’t grow on trees ...”

Poor Elizabeth was frightened. She didn't think it could be anything worse than the orphanage so hostile. Yet, unfortunately it looked like she was wrong. In this world where there were no more good people, any time evil could be replaced by something much worse. She heard this, so she was terrified that what was to come was not good anyway. At least for her ...

“We live in a world where to have, you must give, kid,” Mr. Benjamin looked frowningly at Elizabeth.

He then turned to Mr. Harp:

“Am I right, Mr Harp?”

“Of course, Mr. Green. Of course ... They are little pukes who want to do nothing, just play and take advantage of us.”

“I will not let the children believe people will give them everything. I will provide them with education consistent with what happens in the world. My parents offered me nothing, I had to work. I was also sick, almost dying of pneumonia, but I never stopped working.

He slightly got closer to Mr. Harp.

“I had to steal to get what to eat. I was in prison for this, in the worst detention possible, but I learned my lesson. Now I try to educate children through work. Age doesn't matter when it comes to work. You have to work, otherwise you get to jail ... Isn't that Mr. Harp?

“That's right, Mr. Green. You are perfectly right, sir ...”

Mr. Green put his hand in a pocket of the overcoat and held out a plentiful purse for Harp.

“I know I can’t reward the work you carried out in twenty years with these ... little devils. Consider it a small payment from Miss Elizabeth Edwards. From the work she will do, dear Mr. Harp. I'll get my money back from her work.

Mr. Harp was the happiest man on Earth at that time.

“I apologize, Mr. Green for having the courage to believe that the little miss’s life will not be as it should be with you. If I think better, you are more than adequate to correct and guide her in life. It is clear that you know very well that work ennobles man.

“The harder it is, the more it ennobles us,” Mr. Green added sniggering.

“That’s right, but you must also consider that these children must be educated as well through ...”

Yet, Mr. Harp failed to finish the sentence. The boy Johnny got too close to the bookshelf and reached for a vase. It fell down breaking into thousands of pieces lying scattered on the carpet in the office, like the stars over the night sky.

“My vase from mom!” screamed Mr. Harp getting close to the shards, gathering them as if he wanted to recreate the vase.”

He stood up angrily and looked at the boy with hatred. Then, furious, shaking like crazy, to Mr. Green, apparently looking for empathy from him:

“It was from my mom ...”

Mr. Green got close to Johnny and said calmly:

“Johnny tell Mr. Harp you're sorry for breaking the vase from his mom.”

“I'm sorry, sir,” the little boy could hardly say with fear in his eyes, as if he were a lamb in front of a hungry wolf.

Harp was visibly vexed about what happened. He would do more than that in Mr. Green’s shoes, but he could not get over the latter’s decisions. The purse in his hand was the setback. Still, he plucked up his courage, searched the bottom of his well hidden heart and said:

“Excuses are never enough, Mr. Green. These kids don't learn ...”

However Harp was at a loss for words, dumbfounded by what happened.

Mr. Green hit the boy with such force over his face, hitting his nose and mouth at the same time that the boy collapsed facedown against the floor darkened over the years.

Mr. Harp was on top of the world at such attitude even flashing a wide grin. For him this is true education. He was willing to kiss Mr. Green for the most correct way to educate a child, from his point of view. Nor could he have done better.

“Mr. Harp, let me pay at least the value of the vase to you. I know it doesn't compensate the loss, but ...” Mr. Green said as he prepared to get some money out of his pocket.

“Stay calm, Mr. Green. Anyway I didn't like this vase so much. And anyway ... I'm most pleased to see Miss Elizabeth Edwards in good hands...”

“Thank you and we apologize for the inconvenience.”

"Never mind," said Mr. Harp, smiling.

And when he saw Mr. Green picking up little Johnny off the floor and his face splashed with blood flowing from his nose, Mr. Harp happily handed his handkerchief to the boy, which was out of his character.

The boy, scared, looked at Mr. Green, but as he nodded he could take it, he grabbed it and wiped his nose.

“What do you say!?” Mr. Green's resonant voice echoed.

“Thank you Mr. Harp for being so kind with me, even though I broke your vase ...”

Mr. Harp just smiled like a lunatic to Mr. Green. He hastily wrote something in a register. He quickly wrote a few words on that letter from the Social Assistance Organization, then he smiled happily.

“That’s it, the papers are done. Elizabeth Catherine Edwards take your luggage and follow your father,” Mr. Harp smiled, more than satisfied.

The girl, scared, took her small luggage and went out the door with Mr. Green and Johnny. Mr. Harp showed them out, following Mr. Green like a puppy in the vicinity of a big dog.

Eventually the three of them got on a carriage, and Mr. Harp had two reasons to be happy. He got rid of Elizabeth, who would now have a worse and worse, awful life than at the orphanage, which fully pleased him and he also made some money.

He happily went back to the orphanage and closed the door after him quickly, so that no one would follow him and take his gain.

“We're going to Elmbridge Old Park,” Mr. Green ordered.

Then he looked at the two children and yelled at them in the same resounding voice to let it be heard:

“I don't want to hear any noise and don't even look at me!”

The carriage started off speedily, while Miss Edwards was so frightened and sad that she barely had the courage from time to time to look out the window, without even being able to enjoy the pleasure of traveling by carriage for the first time in her life.

The beauty of the place, which any other child in any other situation would admire without a doubt, could not even make the poor girl smile.

….

“Catherine Edwards?!”

Miss Blackwood ran down the corridors of the orphanage, with the reminder to limp from time to time when she met a small group of frightened children in her way.

“Elizabeth, where are you, little bitch?!”

As usual, the old lady fiercely looked for her... to make poor girl’s life even more miserable. The woman kept screaming.

“Catherine Edwards ?!”

She entered each tiny room, each dormitory stuffed with furniture and old closets. Some of those closets had no doors because they were eaten by bugs. She hit them with her crutch.

The old lady saw a lot of children washing the floor blackened in time, not because of the dirt, but because the children used to polish it daily. That floor with traps here and there with rotten or broken planks.

“Kid, where's Elizabeth Edwards?”

The boy, about seven, carried a bucket full of water almost heavier than he was. He stopped near the old hag.

“I don't know, Miss Blackwood.”

“Yeah, you never know anything. Only I have to know and do them all.”

The old lady also looked in the next room, the last one she had not checked. Still nothing. She got close to the child again, mumbling something.

“We help you as much as we can…,” said the little boy with big black eyes looking at Mrs. Blackwood with a smile.

The woman looked at the boy, frowning.

“Don’t you have a job to finish?”

The boy nodded his head.

“Then what the hell are you looking for here? Go!”

The boy hardly picked up the huge bucket and started rattling with it.

The old woman, who above all was limp, only when she wanted or remembered, continued her search and went down the stairs to the ground floor. At their end, someone waited for her.

“Mr. Harp ... how nice to see you. I just tidied... I let you know, if I still have to be on my own, I will definitely not enjoy the winter holidays.

"I'm sure you'll deal with it, Miss Blackwood," Mr. Harp said sharply. Unfortunately I can't give you the good news of hiring a help for you, but I still have good news.

The lady smiled softly in the corner of her mouth, as if she knew it was something that would really please her.

“What is it, Mr. Harp?” Miss Blackwood sighed.

“Someone came after Miss Elizabeth Catherine Edwards ... took her and left.”

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as if the sun hit her face.

“I didn't think you'd really enjoy this, Miss Blackwood. I mean ... I knew you would enjoy it, but I never saw you so happy.”

“That's why I can’t find the little bitch anymore. Finally, Count Dragoesti came after her,” the woman expressed her relief once more. “I served all this time as he asked me to ... a task that seemed too difficult and which a person of my worth shouldn’t accept. That little witch drove me all batshit ...”

But even with so many lost years, as she said, Miss Blackwood smiled joyously. Mr. Harp looked at the woman.

“The gentleman who came was not called Dragoesti ... he had another name,” he said.

These words seemed to drive Madame Blackwood mad, for her gaze and frown on her face indicated that she turned into a demon. She looked at the director and began to yell as she grabbed his collar:

“WHAT DID YOU SAY? WHAT DID YOU DO, ASSHOLE? What do you mean? Who took her, tell me right away!”

"Miss Blackwood, what does that mean?" Mr. Harp screamed, scared.

“HOW COULD YOU LET A STRANGER GET THE CHILD? Do know the danger you got me into ... DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU DID?”

Mr. Harp grabbed the woman by the hand and managed to convince her using the force to leave him alone.

“Miss Blackwood! I will fire you and you will no longer work at any orphanage. I will personally take care of this.”

The woman fixed the director with a cold, hateful gaze. She got quieter, but she clearly anguished over a serious problem ... something was bugging her.

“I'm sorry Mr Harp ... I'm sorry for my outburst.”

“You waste your words ... I'll still fire you. Such behaviour is not accepted, especially in front of poor children.”

Behind half-open doors several children panicked because of the screams, witnessed that scene. Here and there a little head could be seen sticking out for a moment to better see what happened, and vanishing as quickly as possible.

Nonetheless, little did he care about the children; it was his wounded pride.

“I understand Mr. Harp. I admit my mistake and will bear the consequences. Just tell me that gentleman’s name ...”

“Why are you so curious? He had an act from the Social Assistance Organization signed and sealed. He wanted Elizabeth so I gave her to him. I got rid of that little pest.”

Miss Blackwood was devastated. It was obvious that what pleased her first slowly broke her heart, like lava boiling in a volcano about to erupt, melted inside.

“It's not your concern; the name is written in the register in my office. And the office drawer is locked and the key is well hidden. So, as long as I live, you will not find out that man’s name. Because that's what I want. Go get your luggage and leave the orphanage today. You will no longer live in the Angel's Hand. Today the angel slapped you and kicked you out,” the director smiled.

The man looked at the assembled children and tried to explain them:

“Miss Blackwood will leave now and live on the streets because she was rude and attacked me. I'll kick her out in the streets!”

Miss Blackwood got close to Mr. Harp again. He startled and stepped back. He looked a little at her beaming face, then he plucked up a little courage:

“Miss Blackwood, if you touch me again I will really slap you and call the police. Instead of wandering, free, along dirty, miserable streets, which you may enjoy, you will rot in prison.”

Yet, Miss Blackwood was no longer aggressive, but extremely gentle and calm, contrary to her attitude in the seven years since she was in the orphanage:

“Keep calm, Mr. Harp. I won’t touch again your filthy, slimy body not even with any finger ...”

And Miss Blackwood spelled a few words. The children who were present heard her say Sophocles’ Antigone among the words spoken and swirling a thin and tastefully worked stick, a wand. Then they saw Mr. Harp crashing to the ground.

He tried to say something, but even though his mouth was wide open, he couldn't speak a word or breathe. His face flushed like a ripe apple and his eyes became so huge that they almost didn't fit in orbit. Only little, low groans could be heard coming out of his throat.

Miss Blackwood once again uttered an unspeakable word, Efficere, and again waved that thin wand, following a different pattern now, and the string around Mr. Harp's neck broke and a small key flew at her.

The old hag entered quickly the director's office, leaving him struggling not to choke, while all the children ran away, big and small, some of them leaving the orphanage, probably looking for police officers.

As the woman made her way to Harp's office, she unrolled her braided bun in her hair as white as snow.

Her stumbling, limping gait became like that of a ballerina, her hair got red like the fur of a fox, and her posture of old, hunchback lady, became like that of a princess who lived in the time of ancient kingdoms. Her clothing became so beautiful that many women would envy her.

When she arrived at that room, the beautiful woman came inside. She whispered a few words, then the key she took from Mr. Harp's neck entered the lock on its own and the drawer got unlocked and left its slot by itself.

A small register flew toward her, stopping in her soft, fine hands. Grabbing the register, the alluring lady began to read in it. She started laughing slightly, then louder and louder ending up laughing like crazy.

She suddenly stopped suddenly, then clutching her hair in her hands she said:

“Vlad will kill you ... Idiot!”

She slammed the register against the wall yellowed in time and looked confused through the room. The woman felt one of the frightened children who still had the courage to get close to the door, was following her.

“Leave, kid, or you'll suffer like Harp. You know I hate children!”

The boy ran away like hell.

The woman moved her fingers in a chaotic manner, probably a twitch of hers when things didn’t go well. Eventually, she snapped them and vanished into thin air.

In a few moments a few law enforcement officers entered the orphanage. Some of them were led by the children to Mr. Harp, where they found him breathless ... as if drowned in a lake. There was water in his mouth, his nose was the same, and around him was a puddle, on a day when there was no rain in all England.

Some of the police officers rushed to his office, but here they found nothing but a flipped drawer and the register she threw away.

So they spread out every each way to find old Miss Blackwood, who in fact was that lovely woman and she just pretended she was Miss Blackwood so many years ... unaware, they couldn’t find her in a hundred years.

Because they had to look for a young woman now, not a hag like hateful, horrid Miss Blackwood’s avatar for so many years.