Prison Games

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Red watched until he was certain the trouble had passed. In the two weeks he had been in Newgate, all had been quiet, but when this young woman came in, the other men took notice. He'd felt trouble brewing. He studied the girl. She captivated him. She looked to be eighteen or twenty with a slim build but looked fit. She seemed to have a delicate and gentle manner about her in the way she handled the two children. To Red, she was of a ray of sunshine.

Red turned his gaze on the young ones. He guessed the girl to be four and the boy, maybe six years old. A week after he arrived, they came in with their mother, who seemed ill with a cough. Within days she died, leaving her children behind. He had tried to reach out to them, but they were too frightened of him. He was relieved when the young woman came to the cell. The children seemed drawn to her. She didn't hesitate to share her meager portions of bread and gruel with them. It was foolish of her to do so, but Red believed she knew that and gave anyway.

Sophia was finally able to breathe normally again. With her head on Mary's shoulder she listened to the older woman as she babbled on about her life. How fate had slapped her upside the head, landing her in this unfortunate situation. Sophia's mind wandered in spite of the chatter. Why had that man stepped forward to help? What did it matter? She was simply grateful he was there.

Her attention returned to the woman. Smiling, she thanked her for her protection and introduced herself. "My name is Sophia. Did you say your name is Mary?" Returning her smile, the woman answered, "Aye, 'tis Mary, miss. Why, it was fittin' al' Mary would step in. Us ladies got to stick together, be what I am thinkin"." Sophia nodded in agreement. She wondered why Mary would talk about herself in the third person, but it added to her charm.

Mary went on. "Ya seem too fine a lady to be 'ere. What would ya be 'ere for, if ya don't mind me askin'?" Sophia shrugged. "I was accused of stealing something I did not take."

Mary nodded. "Aye, that has happened to meself once long ago. Now I 'ave done enough to make up for that one time of falsehood. I wish I could tell ya that of Mary be 'ere because of a falsehood now, but I cannot." Her shoulders seemed to stoop a little with her confession. Sophia didn't push for an explanation.

The two women stopped talking. Before too long, the older woman was dozing, her head bobbing back and forth, threatening to hit the wall. When two small children wiggled in between her and Sophia, Mary jerked awake. "What this be? Why in this troubled world would ya be here for? Babes should be in their mum's bed. Just come betwixt ol' Mary and the lass. We keep yas warm as can be." Soon the young ones were snuggled in and sleeping as if they had no troubles at all. Mary looked at Sophia with questioning eyes.

Sophia quietly explained, "When I first arrived, the children were petrified of everyone. I coaxed them a little, and soon they came to me. When I asked about their mum, they told me she had died here before I came. The poor wee ones. I don't know. how long they've been here. I feel somewhat responsible for them now, but what am I to do? I don't even know what is going to happen to me."

Mary regarded the children with sadness. "Aye, what is to be done? I 'ear babes are given o'er to the workhouses. Terrible places they be. Queen Victoria, bless 'er 'eart, be easier on us poor than ol' King George was, but they got to go somewheres."

Sophia noticed a small, dirty piece of cloth in Mary's hand. The older woman stroked it as if to soothe herself. Sophia wondered about it, but other things crowded in. Closing her eyes once more, she thought again of her beloved Gran and her stories about Ireland.

"It be the prettiest land ya e'er see," Gran would say, "but rocks grew where potatoes wouldn't. It be a 'ard life for sure. God made it up to us by making us Irish, and placing us in the most beautiful place except for heaven. County Mayo 'tis where all yer people come from, Sophia. They were fishermen and farmers, the lot of 'em. Not a one owned is own land. It came to be that we all 'ad to leave our earth and 'ome. Still brings a tear to me eyes thinkin' on it." The dear old lady would wipe her eyes, loudly blow her nose, and sadly smile. "It be a 'ard thing to remember on. "

As Sophia dreamed of the woman closest to her heart, she dozed, picturing Gran rocking in her creaky old chair and talking softly of things that mattered most to her. "Ya know, Sophia Elizabeth, life 'tis all about choices that are made. Whether by ya or someone else, it doesn't matter. What does matter is making good choices and how ya decide to live through the choices made. The biggest choice ya will e'er make is whether to be a walkin' with Almighty God or not. You need Him in yer life, lass."

Sophia stirred in her sleep. Her sweet dreams of Gran disappeared and were replaced by dark shadows and the demon-like voice of the "black princess," Tess.

"Sophia, where's my blue gown with the lace? Why do my things seem to disappear all the time? Get my pearl bobs over there and hurry. My hair is a mess. Fix it!" Sophia ran in circles trying her best to please her young mistress, but could not. "You are getting more useless as time goes on. Why can't you appreciate your position? My mother should never have allowed you here. You are useless!" Miss Tess screamed. Miss Tess's mouth got bigger and bigger until only a massive black hole remained, and Sophia fell into it.

 Down, down she fell as slimy hands grabbed at her... Sophia jumped herself awake. For a split second she couldn't remember where she was. As the fog lifted, any sense of relief she might have felt was gone. She had awakened from one nightmare into another. Frantically she tried to remember her dream about Gran. 

The dear old lady's Irish brogue came back to her, but what was it she had said about choices? It was something about God- that far-away being with white hair. Sophia always imagined Him with one big eye that saw every sin and a long finger to point it out. Almighty God, who never spoke to her or seemed to acknowledge her existence. Then again, she never acknowledged His existence either.