Peter Pantomime

Laundry Day Blues

"Gwennie, isn't it supposed to be your birthday around this time of the month?"

The young girl blinked and finished tying the hair of the child sitting on her lap with a ribbon. Gently pulling up the last stubborn strands into a ponytail, she turned and looked up at the red-haired girl addressing her.

"I suppose so. Well, it's actually supposed to be the day that I arrived, I think."

"Well, congratulations! Aren't you excited about having a birthday party? You know, usually we don't get much of a celebration...but the Matron likes you! She'll probably arrange something special, you know."

Instead of sitting down next to her friend, the red-haired girl remained standing, constantly moving about and talking. Apparently accustomed to this, Gwen nodded and smiled coolly as the little girl thanked her and ran away with glee.

"I suppose so," she shrugged, straightening her back and sitting upright with her hands folded in her lap.

"You don't say! Everyone's whispering about it because they're jealous. They really think that the Matron's going to spoil you in front of them. Because you're always taking care of the little ones, the older kids are complaining that you probably won't even think about sharing with them. Ha! The notion of your birthday being all about them is absolutely ridiculous! I already told them off for being so selfish, but the rumors are just getting wilder. They think the Matron might even send you away to a fancy boarding school."

"I can't imagine that happening," Gwen observed. "Boarding schools are too far away from here. Entering the nearest one already costs an arm and a leg."

"Exactly! I'll tell you, they're just an envious, silly lot. They don't see that the Matron likes you because you're smart."

"I wouldn't say that exactly."

"Say what you want! It's nothing but the truth. Hey, did you hear, there's a rumor that Elsie wasn't really adopted-some kids say she disappeared because she was sent away."

"Sent away?" Gwen murmured, reaching for a pile of clothing that had just been washed and dried. She began folding a blue-and-white pinstriped skirt that had already faded to a dull gray.

"Yes. They called it something, said she probably 'aged out.'"

"Really."

"Yeah. Stupid, isn't it? It was Cornelius, though, so you know it's bound to be a fib. I threatened to knock out another tooth if he didn't shut his mouth and stop lying. He looked like he wanted to start a fight, but he didn't. I think it was 'cause Nurse was around the corner. She probably didn't hear me, but she was giving us the evil eye."

"And with good reason," Gwen noted. "Cornelius is just like a nasty boil."

"Rightly so," her friend agreed.

"Mary-Ann!" a shrill voice called out. Grimacing, as if she disliked her own name, the red-haired girl turned to face the direction of the voice.

"Yes, Matron?"

"It's Laundry Day, as you know. Why aren't you folding? Are your clothes still in the hamper?" The stern-faced woman demanded, holding a basket of freshly-pressed clothes.

"I'm getting onto it," Mary-Ann replied, sulkily grabbing a pile of clothes that had been scattered on top of the bed next to Gwen.

"You're not planning on making poor Gwendolyn fold it, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

After the woman left, Mary-Ann reluctantly and clumsily began to fold an oversized shirt.

"Here, give that to me," Gwen reached out, gently taking the shirt from her. "You have to fold the sleeves inside, too. And be careful when you're laying it out. Try not to let it get all wrinkled again, or Matron will really think you dug them out of the dirty clothes hamper."

"If you say so," Mary-Ann replied, hiding her relief. "Say, you promised me you would tell me why you have that old doll. What's the secret meaning behind it?"

"I did?" Gwen asked coolly, carefully searching through the pile for a second sock.

"Of course you did! So where did you get it, huh? And why are you always letting the little kids borrow it? They just leave it dirty and then you have to wash it yourself and you always sleep with it!"

"Oh, it's just a doll. You can have it, if you like."

Mary-Ann frowned. "What is wrong with you?"

"Hm?"

"Isn't that supposed to be like, some really precious treasure you have? A…a souvenir or something? You know-something left over from somebody important to you?"

Gwen blinked. "I've never thought of it like that. It's just something that somebody gave me. Therefore, isn't it fair that I share it with anyone who might want to play with it?"

Mary-Ann opened her mouth wide as if she wanted to go into another tangent but stopped herself and shook her head. She then sighed and looked out at the window through which the sunlight spilled. "You know what, you probably get that a lot. Never mind. I'm just saying…all these years, you've been here, and now you're one of the oldest people here, not counting the boys of course. I keep thinking that you're going to cry when all the other girls our age get adopted-"

Gwen began to point out that she was still a year or two older, but stopped when Mary-Ann gave her a warning glance.

"-but you never do! And it's very unsettling. Are you even going to miss me when I leave?"

"Of course I will," Gwen responded, "why wouldn't I? You're my best friend-"

Mary-Ann stared at her wearily. "But you never react to anything. Ever. Not even when those boys started throwing rocks at you and tried to make you cry by saying you're trying to be a mother to all the little kids."

"Well, it was the truth," Gwen blinked.

"Which brings me to my next point. Why are you trying to be all motherly with the little ones? You don't have to volunteer to show them around or play with them and stuff. Diana can already tie her hair just fine but you do it for her anyway. And I don't think Marcus has put on his own shoes since he broke his arm that one time and you offered to help him."

"I don't see anything wrong with it. I just help out, that's all."

"Yes, but why do you always do it and why is it everything that you care about? Aren't you even excited about celebrating your birthday? Aren't you even worried about all the nasty kids gossiping about you behind your back and calling you the Matron's pet?"

Gwen paused, holding a pinafore that had probably gotten mixed up with Mary-Ann's laundry and belonged to one of the younger children. "I don't see why I have to care about it."

Mary-Ann frowned. "You know, Matron arranged for me to have an interview today."

"Oh, really? Congratulations, I hope it goes well for you," Gwen smiled serenely.

Mary-Ann stood up and threw down the unmatched pair of stockings she had been holding. Blinking in surprise, Gwen stared up at her.

"You don't even care, do you? Nothing bothers you! Nothing at all!" With that, she wiped her eyes with her arm and ran out, her face nearly the same color as her hair.

"Mary-Ann, wait! Stop, what's wrong?" Gwen quickly laid down the folded pinafore and stood up, starting to go after her. Another girl, who had been folding her own laundry in silence, stood up and stopped her.

"Don't follow her, Gwennie. You know Mary-Ann doesn't like people seeing her cry."

"She let me stay with her once."

"Yes, but she just needs some time on her own. She's probably just mad because she wants the prospective family to adopt you too," Jane replied, taking off her wiry spectacles and polishing them.

"Really?" Gwen blinked. "I never expected her to-"

The older girl shook her head. "Mary-Ann said she wanted to have you as a sister, but she doesn't think you'd go with her."

"Oh." Gwen stared down at the floor. "I wouldn't mind, though. Mary-Ann is-"

"Yes, I know, she's your best friend," Jane replied wearily. "But she's leaving, for real. And soon. I am too."

"Oh, really? Did you find a family, too? That's wonderful, Jane, you must be very-"

"No, I didn't," Jane replied, putting her spectacles back on and sitting back down on the floor. Sighing, she picked up her last article of clothing, a tiny chemise. "My time is over. I'm not welcome here anymore."

"You mean, you've found a foster family and you're-"

"No, Gwennie," Jane replied, glaring through her spectacles. Gwen took a step back. "You remember when Sarah came back? Well, her foster family gave her back. Said they didn't think they could support her anymore."

Gwen opened her mouth and closed it, unsure how to react.

"And I'm too old for any foster family to even take me in," Jane muttered, placing the chemise on top of her clothes pile. "They can't even give me back because I'm not a child according to the system anymore."

"That can't be right, you're hardly any older than me-"

"It's the truth, Gwennie. No more free family offers for me. From now on, I'm going to live on my own. For the rest of my life."

"You can still get adopted, though. Even when you're an adult."

"Right," Jane narrowed her eyes. "You had better give that pinafore back to Suzie. You know how hard Matron can be on the younger children if they lose something like that."

"I see…"

It was then that Gwen noticed Jane was not folding up clothes because it was Laundry Day, but because she meant to pack them up and take them away, never to return.