Clove asks for her mother off and on over the next week. Amon and I do our best to distract her. We throw rocks in the river. We go to the docks. We visit the city. After a while, Clove stops asking. She lives in the present. Like Amon and I both do.
One day, we walk down a lane. I notice an odd collection of people grouped together. Amon, Clove, Dodger, and I slow to watch.
People stand behind makeshift tables made out of old boards and beams. On the beams are various items. Pots, kettles, spoons, forks, clothing.
A boy of about ten years old notices me looking. He walks over to me and puts his hand to his mouth. The boy says, “Psst … What do you need?”
This boy wears breeches the colors of salt and pepper. His jacket is of the same material. His hair is long — it looks like he needs a haircut. And a bath.
“Excuse me?” I reply, not quite understanding what the boy is asking.
“What do you need?” he repeats. “I know the Rag Fair better than anyone. Need new shoes?” With that, he points to a middle-aged man with a variety of shoes on the table in front of him. “Or maybe some pots?” He points to a woman selling kitchen items.
“Rag Fair?” I reply. Then, I understand. The Rag Fair is a market for used things. Stolen things, probably.
The boy lowers his voice and opens his jacket. “Need a knife?” he asks. On the inside of his jacket are a number of pocketknives sewn into the lining.
“No. No, knives today,” I reply. “But I do have something to sell: handkerchiefs” I have the cloth handkerchiefs in my pocket.
The boy closes his jacket. “Handkerchiefs, eh?” he says. “I can help you … for a price.”
“A shilling?” I offer.
“Okay,” says the boy. “Follow me.”
“Wait here,” I instruct Amon and Clove.
Amon whistles to Dodger and says “stay” in his low voice.
I walk with the boy through the Rag Fair. We walk past vendors of furniture. Blankets. Fishermen’s nets. Finally, we get to a table with an assembly of cloth and fabrics on it.
“Henry,” he says. “This girl wants to talk to you about handkerchiefs.”
“Buying or selling?” Henry asks.
“Selling,” I say. I take out two of the handkerchiefs I stole.
Henry takes them into his hands and looks them over.
“They look all right. I’ll give you one shilling for each,” he offers.
“Fair price,” says the boy.
“Agreed,” I say. I feel relieved at the thought of having some coins in my pocket. We will be able to eat.
“Silk handkerchiefs are better,” advises Henry. “Two shillings each for silk.”
I make a mental note: two shillings for silk. But a vision of Elizabeth passes through my head. She pleaded with me not to go to plague houses anymore. I promised her I would not.
Henry holds out the money and I put it straight into my pocket.
The boy clears his throat.
“Ahem,” he says.
“Right. Your fee,” I reply. I take out a shilling and hand it to the boy.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” the boy says.
Suddenly, Henry’s eyes pop open. He wags his finger at me. “I know you. Your father had the spice shop. I bet your father knew a medicine for the Plague. What is it? Tell me!”
Someone down the row of tables whistles, and suddenly everyone starts packing up in a hurry. There is a feeling of panic. The boy bolts off in the opposite direction of the whistle.
“What is it?” I ask the man.
“Scavengers,” Henry replies in a hurry. He bundles up his belongings and scurries off. I look down the lane and see a group of vile looking men.
Danger. I feel sudden danger. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I instantly think of Amon and Clove. Did the scavengers see Amon? Maybe they will recognize him from his house in Shanty Town. Did they take Clove? I run in the opposite direction of the whistle.
I wonder if maybe I can circle back. If I get back to the top of the lane, maybe I might find Amon and Clove. My heart thunders in my chest as I run. I get caught in a crowd of Rag Fair traders all trying to escape the scavengers.
There, in the crowd, I see a familiar face. It looks like … Lem. But it can’t be. Someone crosses in front of him and by the time they pass … he is gone.
Could that have been Lem? I shake the thought from my mind. No, I tell myself. Lem is long gone.
At this moment, I have to find Amon and Clove.