Two: Connecting
Russell Dahl wasn’t known for liking kids, or for even liking people as a whole. He was only a businessman because he had to be, but when it came to having relations with people on a social basis, he…well, he wasn’t an expert.
But then that girl showed up.
He was only going to bring her inside and see what she would do, but as it turned out, she didn’t do anything. All she did was ask him questions and give baffling responses to his own. He found out she had literally nothing to her. And come the end of the day, when he closed shop and headed up the stairs to his apartment, she simply wandered away, only to return the next morning, waiting for him on the front stoop.
It went on like this for several days, Russell keeping an eye and an ear out for any information on a missing child. In the meantime, he kept answering her questions, teaching her whatever she wanted to know. But then finally, one night, as he was closing shop, he grabbed her arm when she started to make a move for the front door.
“Where you going, kid?”
“I dunno. Somewhere.”
He groaned. “Where do you go every night?”
The girl made a motion with her arm. “Over there. I sleep.”
“…Outside?”
“Yeah.”
“Not tonight, come on.” He was expecting resistance, but found none as the girl eagerly followed him through the cramped and stuffy backroom of the shop and up the flight of stairs. She marveled at the sights before her, shuffling around the small but (surprisingly) clean rooms, investigating the objects she found.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding up a remote.
“A remote. It lets me control the televid there.” He pointed to the small square box in the corner. “It’s like the ones down in the shop, but newer.”
“Oh…” Her attention was robbed when she wandered off again, this time opening a door and letting out a squeak. “What’s this?!”
Russell smirked – exactly the room he wanted her to find. “That’s the bathroom,” he said. “Not only do you do yer business in there, but you also wash yourself. Get clean, you know?”
“Oooh…Russell, I want to take a bath. Can I do that?”
The girl might not have had memories, but she had the basics of how to function – she just needed to see objects to trigger certain actions. He counted his blessings on not having to potty train or teach her how to eat (though she did tend to wolf down any food set before her). And now it looked like he wouldn’t have to teach her how to bathe. That would’ve been a bit weird.
“Yeah, you can go ahead and do that. Give a holler when you’re done.”
The girl didn’t even close the door, just set about filling up the bathtub and, judging by the corners of clothes peeking out from the doorframe, throwing her garments about before hopping in and splashing around. He leaned against the wall next to the door, sighing, thinking of what in the world he was going to do.
It had been over a week, and not a peep from anyone came for the girl. It was if she simply didn’t exist, as absolutely no one in the slums had any recollection of a young girl with black hair and yellow eyes. Russell tapped his foot, reaching a conclusion he was neither dreading nor wishing for.
“Hey, kid,” he said, scratching his nosebridge. “You want to stay here with me?”
The splashing stopped. “Uh…what do you mean?”
“You know…live with me. You sleep here, in this apartment, with a roof overhead and heat when you need it – you don’t need it now, but in the winter you will. And I can feed you, probably get you some better clothes, too. You can…you can have a place to call your home.”
“…Can I have a blanket?”
He chuckled. “You can have whatever you want so long as it’s not a pony.”
“What’s a pony?”
“An animal, a small horse.”
“Oh…Um – hey – um – Russell…”
“Yeah kid?”
“I’m done, and you wanted me to tell you when I was done, so I am –”
Russell swung into the room, raising an eyebrow at the sight before him. The girl was still sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by murky water, the bottle of shampoo and bar of soap bobbing to the surface. He just grinned, pulling the never-used second towel off the rack and motioning for her to stand up. She did, and he pulled her out of the tub much like a toddler, feeling his never-used fatherly instincts kicking in.
“You did quite a number on the water there,” he noted as he rubbed her hair dry with the towel. “I’m glad, it looked like you needed a bath.”
“I…I saw it and…then I suddenly felt really gross, you know?”
“Yeh, I know how that is kid.” He moved the towel down to her torso, it catching on something around her neck. He lifted the towel to find a ballbearing chain necklace that reached down her chest, stopping at her naval wherein a dogtang hung. There was a symbol engraved onto it that resembled something out of an electrical circuit diagram, but it was otherwise nondescript.
“Kid, you know what this is?” he asked as he began to dry her off again. “The necklace.”
“No.”
“I didn’t think you would…” He lifted the towel to take a peek at it just one more time. It was remarkably clean, showing no sign of wear and tear. Whatever it was had been made and put around her neck recently. “You didn’t take it from anywhere, did you?”
“No, it’s been on me since I can remember.”
“A whole eight days, yeah…Heh, well, whatever.”
