Deception

      I hesitated as I considered what a discovery of my deception could mean. An orphaned boy could be looked upon as able to fend for himself, as many were, but a little girl? I could be sent to Blackwell’s Island on the first ferry! Fortunately, my fears of detection were allayed when Linda handed me a small brush and bar of soap. It was clear that I would not have to bathe under her scrutiny, and my modesty would be kept intact.

     “I have more cleaning to do,” she said, “so I will have to leave you to your own devices. Make sure you clean behind your ears, Mel. I will be inspecting you when you are done!” Her eyes twinkled as she spoke. I took the articles she handed to me and stepped behind the stall. Oh, the bath was glorious! The weeks of grime and dirt that had seemingly settled into my skin disappeared after an ardent scrubbing. As I reflected upon what I had endured—wandering, lost, alone, filthy, and frightened by the ghosts of all I had witnessed—my spirit became overwhelmed and I found myself weeping silently.

     Realizing that I must forge ahead and not wallow in the past, I wiped the tears away, tossing my soiled garments into a rubbish container. I put on the fresh knickers and linen shirt which she had provided. Although my body was now cleansed of the physical traces of all I had endured, I still felt wicked for continuing the masquerade when Linda was being so kind, but the wickedness was outmatched by my qualms. As I stepped from the stall, I saw George seated at the table. Linda stood nearby.

     “You look almost like a different boy, Mel!” he exclaimed. “The Bard was correct: ‘The apparel oft proclaims the man!’” He laughed heartily at what must have been my confused expression. “You look just dandy, my boy!” he added. I smiled and seated myself next to him. My masquerade was successful. 

                                                                [TO BE CONTINUED.]