literature

The Angel

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Literature Text


“Please, I’m in a hurry!”
“Alright, alright! We wasn’t to know!” exclaimed the young woman, shrinking back in fear from the large man who stood before her.
“I-I’m sorry, I oughtn’t to have yelled, Miss,” said the man, a look of guilt passing over his sun-browned features. “Do forgive me. I’m a bit on edge today.”
The young woman stared up at him from her somewhat crippled position in utter astonishment. Being what her master called “not particularly bright,” she was not used to people telling her they were sorry for any of the many ways they often used and abused her. The middle-aged man noticed the surprise on the woman’s face, and the dirt, and even blood he thought, that was also there. Her clothing was tattered and torn, her feet and hands cut and dirty – she looked far too warn and tired for a girl of her young age. The vicar felt very sorry for the child, and determined he wanted to do something to help her as best he could. After all, what sort of ambassador for the Lord was he if he did not give help to those who needed it? And this young woman certainly needed it.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a soft tone, reaching out his large hand towards her. “Do you need any help?”
She pulled back, staring at him with her wide, tired blue eyes. “They say I get the best treatment I deserve. They say I got all I need.”
“They?” queried the man.
“The master and the wife.”
“Are you a servant, then?”
“Aye,” said the girl quietly.
The tall man looked unhappy. “Do they treat you ill, my girl?”
The young woman swallowed, as if unsure how to respond.
“Are they kind to you?” the vicar tried.
She shook her head. “No.”
The man frowned, looking again at the mixture of dirt and blood that fairly covered the woman. “Do they live near? Your master and his wife? I’d like to talk with them.”
“That way.” The young woman pointed down the dirty street. “The master owns the Black Raven pub.”
The vicar nodded; he was not surprised. Drink always caused much more damage than anyone would ever let on. “Take me to them, please,” he said, “And while we walk, I’d like you to tell me about your life, and how your masters treat you.”
The young woman led the vicar on, limping slowly and rarely taking her weary eyes off of the tall man who walked beside her. Once she tripped and nearly fell, but the strong hand of the vicar took hers and helped her carefully up. She looked alarmed at his touch, for never in her life had she felt a kind, gentle, loving touch.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”
The young woman nodded hesitantly, and they walked on together.
By the time they reached the pub the vicar was overcome with righteous indignation for the things the girl had told him of her life with her master and his wife. He told the girl to stay outside while he went in the pub to talk to her master. As he walked into that dirty den of sin, many unclean, drunken faces looked up at him in surprise, for he had rid himself of his coat and his clerical garb was recognizable to all. He seemed to almost carry a light of his own into the hell hole, and to clear the air of its foul stench. He stopped twice to say quick prayers over the sad occupants and then moved on quickly to the bar.
“Are you the proprietor of this damnable establishment?”
The slightly drunken bartender nodded his filthy face. “That’d be me.”
“I would like to have a word with you about your hired girl.”
“Hired girl? I’ve got no hired girl - just one a’ the kids born by one a’ my old girls. She’s not altogether bright, and her mum didn’t want her, so the Mrs. and I took her in. We put her to work, and give her food and bed in exchange, but she ain’t even as bright as a dog, and I give a beating whenever she needs it, which be more often than not!” The man laughed until his face was red and slapped his hand against the bar.
The vicar could barely hold in his wrath and opened his stern mouth to tell the proprietor what he thought of his humor.
The young woman, who still stood quietly outside the pub, could hear the loud, booming voice of her new friend echoing his righteous anger into the street. Passersby would stop and listen, laugh, and move on, but the young woman, who had never before heard words akin to the ones she heard now, was fixated in her spot on the cobble street. It was nearly 20 minutes later when the tall, middle- aged man came once again into the street. He knelt down on the filthy ground and looked the girl in the eyes.
“How would you like to come home with me?” he asked. “I’ve two children who would love to have another sister. I could teach you about God, and how to read, and you would have a wonderful life and you would be loved, and you would never be abused by drunken men again. What would you say to that?”
The young woman looked overjoyed and an eager look of amazement was on her face. “But what about the master?” she asked, her face suddenly falling.
“I’ve put him in his place, don’t you worry,” smiled the vicar. “If I ever told of what he’s got going on in that pub, he could be arrested. I told him I’m taking you home with me, and he said that would be quite alright. So will you come, my girl?”
“Yes! Yes!” exclaimed the young woman, more happy than she had ever been in her life. “I will come!”
She grabbed onto the vicar’s hand, and he smiled down at her. “My name is Arthur Paddington, what’s your name?” he asked kindly.
“Name?”
“Yes, you know, my girl, what people call you when they want to get your attention.”
“The master calls me “girl” and hits me.”
The man worked his jaw a moment, thinking again how glad he was that he was taking the girl away from all these horrible things and horrible people.
“What do you say to my calling you “Rose”? I’ve always liked that name.”
“Rose? Like the flower?”
“Yes, and you would have my last name, so you would be Rose Paddington.”
The young woman smiled and nodded, clutching even harder to the vicar’s hand. She had heard people talk of angels, how they were beautiful, and how God sent them to earth to do good to people, but no one had ever told her what they looked like. She looked up at the vicar, and wondered if he was what an angel looked like.
I thought of this this morning, and since I simply could not get it out of my head, I decided to write it down.

PLEASE tell me what you think!
© 2013 - 2024 GoodOldBaz
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AragornofRedwall's avatar
This is going in my favourites. Very, very well done!