The real villain of this city was the blistering wind that rolled in from the bay. It was invasive and suffocating. If the wind wasn’t killing you, it was the humidity and intense gray heat that followed in seasonal suit. I didn’t like thinking about the change of seasons, or the inevitable, or the past. Too much had happened last Christmas for me to consider it a “joyous” time. It was the last time I watched my mother and father fall asleep. And never wake up. What was God’s use for smallpox anyway? At least, I still had Rob: my last shred of humanity. My younger, plumper brother was a blond, five years old that lived in the shop with me and Vernon, the town’s wigmaker. Vernon was the only kind soul left in Boston that would take in a couple
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“That’ll be two pounds,” I said as I set the box next to his head. He awoke with a start. “Eh… What’s that? Oh right. Here is five and you make the change yourself.” I reached for my own pocket and he waved me away, insisting on that I kept it. “...you make the change yourself.” Deep in thought and delivery completed, I returned to the cold, cruel streets. The only lights left that lit my path were the faint candles in the surrounding windows and the moon. I began to walk until I saw him. Uniformed in a bright red coat, long white stockings, and tricorne hat, I saw him. He stood on the opposite corner of me with a lower ranking soldier: Goldfinch. Captain Lieutenant John Goldfinch had placed an order for a wig last week, received the order, and had yet paid for it. Vernon had warned me to keep an eye out for him and I had finally found the debtor. “Aye! Goldfinch! You’ve yet to pay Vernon and still owe three pounds!” My loud and public accusation got his, the soldier’s, and the remaining public’s attention. He turned and called back, “Why, yes I have! Return to your master at once!” and turned back unconcerned to his aide. The nerve of these people. Wigs were the only scarce source of income for Vern, Rob and I. Some of us have to make these things: we have to make the change. “Goldfinch! I will report you to your superior for stealing from Vernon!” I could see a larger crowd growing now because of this conflict. Goldfinch turned again and shouted, “I said, I have paid the debt already!” The soldier next to Goldfinch yelled back “Av sum respeck for authority, boy! We already do a ‘nuff for you!” Another gust of cold evening wind from the bay ran through the streets, but I was warm. The small crowd grew by a few people. “This has nothing to do with you! You insufferable, incompetent, idiotic dalcop!” The crowd grew in size again in response to my
“That’ll be two pounds,” I said as I set the box next to his head. He awoke with a start. “Eh… What’s that? Oh right. Here is five and you make the change yourself.” I reached for my own pocket and he waved me away, insisting on that I kept it. “...you make the change yourself.” Deep in thought and delivery completed, I returned to the cold, cruel streets. The only lights left that lit my path were the faint candles in the surrounding windows and the moon. I began to walk until I saw him. Uniformed in a bright red coat, long white stockings, and tricorne hat, I saw him. He stood on the opposite corner of me with a lower ranking soldier: Goldfinch. Captain Lieutenant John Goldfinch had placed an order for a wig last week, received the order, and had yet paid for it. Vernon had warned me to keep an eye out for him and I had finally found the debtor. “Aye! Goldfinch! You’ve yet to pay Vernon and still owe three pounds!” My loud and public accusation got his, the soldier’s, and the remaining public’s attention. He turned and called back, “Why, yes I have! Return to your master at once!” and turned back unconcerned to his aide. The nerve of these people. Wigs were the only scarce source of income for Vern, Rob and I. Some of us have to make these things: we have to make the change. “Goldfinch! I will report you to your superior for stealing from Vernon!” I could see a larger crowd growing now because of this conflict. Goldfinch turned again and shouted, “I said, I have paid the debt already!” The soldier next to Goldfinch yelled back “Av sum respeck for authority, boy! We already do a ‘nuff for you!” Another gust of cold evening wind from the bay ran through the streets, but I was warm. The small crowd grew by a few people. “This has nothing to do with you! You insufferable, incompetent, idiotic dalcop!” The crowd grew in size again in response to my