The next morning, Clove asks to go to the docks again.
“Please, Mother?” she pleads.
Elizabeth looks to me to make a decision.
“It is better than staying under this bridge all day,” I say. So, we walk up the hill and back in the direction of the salty sea air.
It is a sunny, summer London day. The sky is blue with not a cloud in sight. I push my worry about Cal, Cinn, and Lem to the back of my brain. “Breathe, Rose,” I tell myself.
I appreciate the sun on my face. The fresh air around me. Clove skips and hops as she walks with us. I used to skip and hop like that too, but now I walk in step with Elizabeth. We are good companions.
As we walk closer to the docks, I notice a crowd of men.
“How dare you!” yells a scrapper of a man holding a whip in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. “I’ll teach you a lesson about stealing.” He lands his whip on the back of a much bigger man.
The crowd of men cheers when the whip hits his back. “Thief,” they yell. The whip cracks again on the bigger man’s back. The back of his shirt is ripped and his skin is red from the abuse. There is a dog barking like mad inside the circle of the men.
Elizabeth looks at the fight with disapproval and disgust. She takes Clove’s hand and walks her away from the fight. However, I move closer.
“Rose,” she tells me, “come away from there.” But I cannot. I squeeze my way inside the circle of men. I see a red apple fall out of the bigger man’s hand as he puts his hands up around his head to protect himself. The bigger man cowers. Afraid.
The dog barks and snaps trying to protect the man from the whip. I recognize the protective dog. It’s Dodger. Then, I recognize the man. He is not a man; he is a giant boy. “Amon,” I whisper.
“I’ll show you how we treat thieves here,” yells the scrapper, cracking the whip on Amon’s back once again. Dodger snarls and barks. Amon crouches down with his back to the man.
Without thinking, I jump in.
“Stop,” I yell. “Don’t hurt him!”
Dodger puts himself between us and the scrapper. He growls in warning.
The scrapper cracks the whip on Amon’s back again. He could fight back. He is twice the size of the scrapper. But Amon is too gentle. Too young in mind. He doesn’t know he can defend himself.
“Stop,” I yell again. I am beside the scrapper now. I grab the man’s hand holding the whip and try to wriggle it out of his hand. The scrapper pushes me down with ease. I fall with a loud thud on the wood deck. The crowd laughs at me.
“Don’t touch him,” I say through my teeth to the scrapper.
Dodger nips at the scrapper’s legs.
The scrapper kicks Dodger off of him. Dodger lets out a yelp but returns to Amon to protect his master.
“You, little girl, need to be taught a lesson about how to behave,” warns the scrapper. “I’ll teach you not to meddle …”
He raises the whip to hit me. Dodger barks and jumps. I tense my body and await the pain. Just as the whip is about to crack down on me, a giant hand grabs the wrist of the scrapper and holds it tight in the air. Amon, big Amon, holds the man’s wrist in his massive hand and squeezes. The scrapper winces in pain. His knees buckle. Amon doesn’t defend himself but he instinctively protects me.
“Rose!” I hear voices calling me. When I look, Cal and Cinn break through the circle of men watching. Next thing I know, they are standing in front of me, putting themselves between me and the scrapper.
“Let go of me,” the man begs to Amon. Amon does not let go. The crowd quiets down. Amon squeezes the scrapper’s hand tightly. He brings him down to his knees. “Let go. Please,” says the scrapper.
“Are you all right, Rose?” Amon asks in his deep and gentle voice.
The scrapper, Amon, Cinn, and Cal are all looking at me. Waiting for me to reply.
“I’m okay, Amon. Let’s go,” I say.
I look at the scrapper. “Don’t ever hit him again.” I pick his whip up and hold it in my hand. “Do you hear me? Don’t ever hit him again!” I yell. I take his whip and throw it into the water. I turn and look around at the crowd of men. They are shocked.
Suddenly, someone starts clapping. “You tell ’em girlie!” There is laughter. More men join the clapping. Soon there are cheers.
“And don’t ever think about touching her either,” Amon says, squeezing the man’s hand even harder. Suddenly there is a CRACK sound and the man screams in pain. Amon has broken the scrapper’s hand. Amon lets go and steps back with surprise. He doesn’t know his own strength.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cal whispers.
The scrapper holds his hand in pain and the crowd laughs and claps. We take our leave.
Cal grabs my hand. He leads me, Amon, and Cinn out of the crowd. As we walk away from the dock, Elizabeth and Clove join us.
“Rose, are you hurt?” Elizabeth asks. They have seen the confrontation.
“I’m fine, but we need to clean his wounds,” I say while motioning to Amon. He lowers his head in pain as he walks. Dodger keeps close by his master’s side to protect him.
“Poor boy,” Elizabeth says.
Cal and Cinn put themselves under each of Amon’s long arms and help him walk.
“Let’s take him to the fountain,” Cal suggests. When we arrive there, Amon sits at the foot of the fountain. Cal and Cinn stand on either side of us, looking to see if anyone from the crowd or the scrapper himself might have followed us. But we are safe. I help Amon take his ripped shirt off. Elizabeth takes Amon’s shirt and dips it in the fountain water.
He sits crossed-legged in front of her on the ground. Dodger sits on Amon’s lap. The dog licks his master’s hands in comfort.
“This might hurt,” she warns Amon. Elizabeth pats the wet shirt onto Amon’s wounds. He winces from pain.
“Why didn’t you fight back as soon as they caught you?” Cinn asks Amon.
“You certainly have the strength to put a man down,” Cal says.
Amon just sits petting his dog in silence.
“Leave him be,” I say. “He’s not a fighter.”
I bend down to Amon.
“Amon, why were you at the docks?” I ask.
He looks up at me, Cinn, and Cal. He starts to cry. Cal and Cinn can’t believe a giant like Amon would break into tears. He didn’t cry during the whipping, but he cries now.
“What’s wrong with him?” Cinn asks.
“Nothing is wrong with him,” I warn. Cinn puts both hands up and backs off.
“Amon,” I say as I kneel down to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “Calm yourself. Tell me what happened.”
“They came the other night,” he says.
“Who came?” I ask.
“Strangers. Mother said not to let them in. So, I didn’t. But they threw rocks through the windows. One of the rocks hit Mother in the head. She was bleeding. Real bad. The strangers broke the door down. There was a pack of them. I couldn’t stop them.” His voice trails off into sobs. My body tensed at the thought of strangers breaking down his door. He must have been so afraid.
“It’s okay, Amon. It’s okay. You are safe now,” I say to reassure him.
“Strangers?” Elizabeth asks.
“Scavengers, no doubt,” Cal says. Cinn nods in agreement.
Amon looks up at Cal and Cinn as if he is just seeing them for the first time.
“Rose, who are these guys?” Amon asks.
“Hey, big guy. I’m Cal. This is Cinn. We are friends of Rose.” He looks at Amon with kind eyes and a soft smile. He understands Amon is younger than his years.
“Not friends,” I correct Cal. “We just met yesterday. They helped me out.”
“You helped us first,” Cal says with a wink.
I shake my head. Why does this boy annoy me and interest me both at the same time?
“Scavengers are bad news,” Cinn says. “It’s one thing to be a thief, but scavengers are desperate thieves. They won’t stop at nothing to get what they want.”
I think of my brother. Did someone get him?
“Did they take anything?” Cal asks.
“They took everything,” Amon sobs. “Money, necklaces, kettles …” He lists off item upon item, counting it all on his fingers. “The hidden ale, Mother’s rum, my good fishing rod.” When he gets to ten fingers of counting things off, he restarts counting at his thumb.
“We will go back and get your mother,” I say to Amon.
“Go to a place full of scavengers? No thank you!” Cinn says, waving his hand no.
“I didn’t ask you to come,” I say.
“You can’t take on scavengers on your own,” Cal warns.
“Watch me,” I reply. “His mother is hurt. Amon, I will find your mother. Don’t you worry.”
I look directly at Cal. I feel a wave of strength inside of me. I will decide what I can or cannot do. Not Cal. Not anyone.
“She’s gone,” Amon says in a muffled whisper. “She ran out the back door. Probably headed north.”
“What makes you think she went north?” Elizabeth asks.
“Because my mother had a plan,” Amon says. “She always said that if she had to leave in a hurry, she’d go north. She knows people up there.”
“Why didn’t she take you with her?” I ask.
“She always said she’d be faster going alone.”
“How could a mother leave her child?” Elizabeth asks in disgust.
“Some people shouldn’t be parents,” Cal says. It seems like he knows something about having bad parents, from the way he says it.
“What were you doing at the docks?” I ask.
“Looking for you, Rose.”
“Me?”
“You’re my only friend. I figured I’d be safe with you.”
“Because Rose saves people,” Cal says plainly.
I glare at Cal. It doesn’t matter that he is good-looking. I do not like this boy at all.
“Ignore him, Amon,” I say. “We will take care of you.”
Elizabeth continues to clean Amon’s wounds. Clove puts her little hands into the water and puts her wet hands on Amon’s forehead. He looks at her face and gives her a faint smile of thanks.
“We need to put some medicine on these wounds,” I say.
“No one has medicine these days,” Cinn says.
“We do,” I answer without thinking.
“We don’t,” Elizabeth says, confused.
Cal looks at me as if I’ve unlocked a secret. I wish I hadn’t mentioned we had anything.
“Not here,” I say.
“We should get going. It’s not good for people like us to stay out in the open too long,” Cal says.
“Like us?” Clove asks.
“Thieves,” Cinn says as he looks up and down the street.
“Thanks for your help,” I say to Cal and Cinn. “You may go.”
“We may go?” Cal laughs at my giving them permission to leave. It reminds me of when he said it to me before. “We’ll walk you home.”
“No, thank you,” I reply.
Cal and Cinn have no business walking us home. Seeing our bridge. Being able to find us again.
“For protection,” Cal says.
“Who says we need protection?” I ask defiantly.
“Who says you are the ones needing protection?” he answers.
With that he whistles at Cinn. They each put themselves under one of Amon’s big shoulders and help him up.
I look at Elizabeth with warning.
“We cannot carry Amon ourselves,” she says.
I whisper, “They are thieves. They could rob us!”
“We need them, Rose. Sometimes you just need to trust people. Accept their help.”
I reluctantly give in. I nod an okay to Cinn and Cal, but I watch them. Every step of the way. I will not let my guard down around these two. I have to protect Elizabeth, Clove, Amon, and myself.
We walk, together, back to our bridge. Dodger walks beside Amon.
It is a slower walk than usual. Amon is in pain.
“We are okay now,” I finally say to Cinn and Cal when we reach the bridge. “This is far enough.”
“Always walk a lady home. That’s what my Papa always told me,” Cinn says with a smile. He seems to have a good nature and always be quick with a heartfelt smile.
“We are with you ’til the end,” Cal says, looking more serious.
We go under our bridge and sit Amon down.
“Thank you, fellas,” Amon says to the boys.
“You’re home,” Clove says to Amon.
“This is your home?” Cinn asks.
Cal looks around at our place under the bridge.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Smart,” Cal says, looking at me and nodding his head approvingly. “Protection from the weather. Hidden from the road. Good place.”
I don’t volunteer that Lem was the one who found the bridge and I just followed him here.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Amon.
“My back hurts,” he says with a deep voice.
“Your wounds aren’t too deep. You should heal fine,” Elizabeth reassures him.
I reach into my pocket and bring out the bottle of Thieves Oil and my cloth. The eucalyptus oil is good for pain. I put a few drops onto the cloth and pat it gently on Amon’s back. I know the scents in the Thieves Oil. The spices live in my memory.
“This is medicine, Amon. It will help your wounds. You will feel better.”
I notice Cal gives a strange look to Cinn. A warning look. I feel uneasy.
“You two can leave now,” I command.
“You need food,” Cal says after a minute. “Stay with Amon. We will get food and bring it back.”
“No, it’s fine. I can get us food,” I protest. “We don’t need your help.”
“I have food,” Amon says.
He reaches into his pocket and produces four apples. That is what he was stealing at the docks! He had been stuffing his pockets with apples before the scrapper caught him.
“Apples!” Clove squeals with delight. Amon hands apples out to Clove, Elizabeth, and myself. He offers the last one to Cal and Cinn, but they wave him off.
“You deserve that one, mate. You stole them apples fair and square. You eat it,” Cinn says.
“I want to be a thief when I grow up,” Clove declares.
“No, you don’t,” Elizabeth says with disapproval.
We look at Clove with her innocence. She doesn’t think of the danger of catching the Plague or getting whipped. She thinks being a thief is a proper job.
“It’s not good to be a thief,” Amon says, pointing to the wounds on his back. A silence falls over us. Cal, Cinn, and I could all get whipped for stealing. It could have been any one of us at the end of the scrapper’s whip. Or worse.
“Amon is right,” I whisper.
Clove nods in understanding. Punishment hurts.
“We’ll come back and check in on you another day,” Cal says.
“No, we are fine, thank you,” I say.
“We’ll come and check on you,” Cal says firmly, as if he is making a promise. He turns and walks up the hill.
“Good day, milady,” Cinn says with a bow. Clove giggles at this. He gives her a big smile.
Then, Cinn follows Cal.
I continue patting Amon’s wounds with the Thieves Oil. This is what friends do. They take care of each other.