My Sister's Keeper

Rhapsody’s footfalls slapped against the wet concrete. “Stop thief,” shouted the rotund man running and waving his wooden spoon. Rhapsody only looked over her shoulder once. She didn’t want to trip over anything. Or drop her piping hot meat pie which scorched her palms. “Stop thief,” the man panted before doubling over and coughing. It was the breaking of the dawn; most shops weren’t open yet. Rhapsody dash by a woman sweeping outside her shop; Tailor Made. Rhapsody turned the corner. She dared a glance back, the man had not appeared. Maybe he gave up the chase. But she wouldn’t slow down just in case the man was only taking a minute to catch his breath. She wouldn’t stop running until she reached home.

Rhapsody made it safely home. The pie was now lukewarm. She took a key from around her neck and opened the door. “You’re back.” Rhapsody’s little sister, Emerald came running with her bare feet. She still had on her night gown. Rhapsody and Emerald were contrast of each other. Where Rhapsody’s eyes were dark as a starless night, Emerald’s were green like the gemstone, sprightly ebony curls framed her full moon face. Rhapsody’s face s oval ended with a sharp chin. Her coarse hair was locked into a single plait which she slung over one shoulder. Nestled on the edge of the woods the sisters lived.

“What you get me?” Emerald bounced on her heels

“Us,” Rhapsody corrected. “Meat pie.”

“I’m a vegetable ran.”

“Since when are you a vegetarian.” Rhapsody gave her little sister a sidelong glance.

Emerald puckered her lips. “Since today.”

“I guess that means more for me.” Rhapsody raised the pie to her mouth.

“No. No. No.” Emerald hopped up and down.

“Okay.” Rhapsody walked over to the wobbly table where they often shared stolen meals.

Emerald folded her hands and said grace over her lukewarm slice. Rhapsody just watched her. When the little girl finished they ate.

“Are they all accounted for?” asked a man with a dark scraggly beard, resembling tangled yarn. The gold buttons on his jacket shone like tinny suns. Ira Specks beady eyes roved over the lists of names. “Hmm?” There are two missing.” She handed the list back to the man.

“But ma’am my men rounded up all the children from the village.”

Ira Specks stood akimbo. “The inn keeper’s daughters are missing.”

“We gave that place the once over.” The man picked at a loose thread on his jacket.

“I guess you better give it the twice over.” Ira Specks took a choppy step forward. She was a top-heavy woman always dressed in billowy blouses and high waisted skirts. Her face creased and crinkled like a raisin. She ran Specks’ Home for the Wayward and Orphaned Children. And since the incident a fortnight ago she had gathered all the recent orphans from the small village of South Vale.

Tendrils of ruby reds and fiery oranges were all that remain as the sun slid between blankets of clouds. Emerald nestled against her sister’s shoulder. This was always her favorite part of the day, watching the sunset at the edge of the woods. “Do you think they’ll come back? Emerald looked at Rhapsody with her doe eyes.

“I don’t know?” She absent-mindedly pulled on a loose thread on her shirt.

“Will Gramma at least come back?’

Rhapsody looked away from her sister and back to the dimming sunlight. “There’s no coming back from dead.”

Emerald was silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on the end of her curls. “We should find them.” She jumped from her feet, startling a squirrel. It’s claws clacking as it scurried up the tree. “It’ll be an adventure.”

“It’ll be dangerous.”

“We should find them,” Emerald repeated, her voice growing soft.

Rhapsody looked away again. They were safe here. But for how long?” Eventually her sticky fingers would get her caught. She looked up at the sky. “We should get some sleep.”

“But.” Emerald pulled on her shirt.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

With slumped shoulders Emerald trailed behind Rhapsody as they walked home.

Night settled onto the deserted village of South Vale. A bright moon hung low in the star scattered sky. The man stroked his straggly beard as he stared at the Goatherd Inn. “Come on,” he instructed his men. The door creaked open. Mice scurried through cracks in the wall.

“Sir we’ve already searched this place,” a pencil thin man said.

He was grabbed by the collar. “And we will search as many times as I say.” The straggly bearded man spat.

Cobwebs clung to the corners and dust coated the glassware, until they were shattered to the ground amid toss over tables. A piece of paper floated to the floor. “What’s this?” It was a photo of the innkeeper, his wife, two daughters and a stooped over woman standing in front of a cabin. “Ha.” Straggly beard crumpled the photo. “This must be where you’re hiding. Enough searching. To the woods.”

Rhapsody bolted upright in her bed. Slowly she crept to the dust covered window. She wiped it cleaned with her sleeve. She could see orange lights floating through the trees. Fairies. She shook her head. They don’t exist. People. She dashed from the window. “Emme. Wake up.”