Read A Day in a Life in After World: Maggie Page 4

the maître d’ immediately came and greeted her. “Good day Honored Daughter. Table for one, or will there be other daughters joining you?”

  Maggie shook her head. “It will just be me. I actually came for Betsy.”

  “For Betsy?” The hostess asked. “She is upstairs today, not feeling well.”

  “Yes, I heard her bursitis is acting up.” Maggie stated. “May I see her?”

  “Are you lost?” The maître d’ asked of her.

  “Yes.” She said simply and then indicated her satchel.

  “Right this way then.”

  The hostess led her through the tables of the restaurant into the kitchen and past a large storage area. At the far back corner of the building they came to a staircase. It was sturdy but was definitely utilitarian and not as posh as the rest of the restaurant. This was not for public use.

  At the top of the stairs there was a hallway of rooms. They moved down the hallway to the end which put them back nearly to the front of the building. The hostess knocked lightly on the door and Maggie was not sure if she heard someone answer before the hostess opened the door.

  “Betsy, there is someone here to see you.” The hostess said into the room.

  “Tell them to come back next week.” The voice of an elderly woman snapped back. “I am not seeing anyone.”

  “But Betsy, you will want to see her.”

  By this time the hostess had fully opened the door and they had both stepped into the room. The front wall of the room was glass like the restaurant downstairs. There were curtains for the window, but they were tied back giving the room full light and view of the harbor. In the room was a large fluffy bed, a dressing table with three section mirror and a rocking chair facing out the window. Betsy was in the rocking chair and did not turn to look at them.

  “I don’t feel like company.” Betsy stated. “Tell them to come back another time.”

  “She is here to help you.” The hostess insisted.

  With this the chair stopped rocking and Betsy looked back at them. She was older than any woman Maggie had ever seen. Her hair was silver and her skin seemed to just be barely clinging to her face. When Betsy saw the daughter though her face lit up and she had a huge smile that seemed to pull all the wrinkles out of her face.

  “You are the daughter!” She said excitedly. “I saw what you did to Frankie earlier and I nearly came downstairs myself to applaud.”

  Betsy, in what appeared to be a feat of extreme difficulty stood up from the chair and shuffled over to the ladies.

  “You, go, go.” Betsy shooed the hostess. “I will be fine with this one. So long as she does not try to flip me like she did Frankie.”

  Betsy broke into a cheerful cackle.

  The maître d’ bowed out and closed the door behind her leaving Maggie alone with Betsy.

  Betsy placed a hand on the daughter’s shoulder and guided her back to the window. “So how long have you been lost girl?”

  “A couple of days. It has been very confusing.” Maggie replied. “How did you know?”

  “Ain’t no daughters ever come round asking for Betsy lessen they are lost.” She said with a laugh. “You girls been keeping me healthy for years.”

  Betsy turned the Lost Daughter and looked up in her eyes. “What got you kicked from the sorority?”

  Maggie looked down, she could not meet the gaze of those old wise eyes. “It’s cancer.”

  She felt weak and doomed proclaiming to someone her illness. It felt like a clock ticking.

  Betsy though was unaffected by the pronouncement. “The cancer huh? No worries then! You girls cure that one all the time. Heck, when I was fifty-two I had the throat cancer. Two of you girls patched me up and not only cured it, but repaired all the damage it had ravaged me with. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Maggie nodded. She had no idea that the daughters had such an effect on others outside Mother’s circle. The only people who had ever existed for her were Mother and the other daughters.

  “So you come for my bursitis?” Betsy asked which took Maggie out of her reverie.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Call me Betsy, child!” The old woman chided. “And what do I call you? You have a name yet?”

  “I am Maggie.” It felt weird telling someone her name. It felt weird even having a name and she shivered slightly as she told the old woman.

  “Excellent name!” Betsy patted the Lost Daughter’s hand and then turned to take a seat back in her rocking chair. “Got one so quickly too! I’ve known daughters without a name after months of being lost. Them’s so caught up in their programming they’s not seem to bring theyselves to be a person stead of some replacement body.”

  Maggie set the satchel on a table next to the rocker and started going through it. “You sure do know a lot about the Daughters.”

  “Like I say,” Betsy stated, “you girls been coming around for years.”

  “How old are you?”

  Betsy stopped rocking for a moment and was silent.

  “I did not mean that to be rude.” Maggie said.

  Betsy waved her off for a moment then finally replied, “I’s trying to figure numbers in my head. No one asked me that in so long. Them all afraid of offending me. I’ve not added it up in some time.”

  Maggie nodded and continued through the bag.

  “I’s fifteen when I met Earl; He worked here at Le Crux for is father as dishwasher. By eighteen he’as a sous chef. And we got married when he turned twenty.” Betsy stopped for a moment and added figures in her head again and then continued. “Is father estated us the restaurant when I was forty-two. And Earl passed away when I was sixty-seven.”

  A pallor crossed her visage for a moment and then she continued adding up. “I’ve been running it since then and…” she counted on her fingers then finally answered, “eighty-six! I’s eighty-six years old, or at least I’m fairly certain of that. Earl and me, we had quite a time running this place.”

  Maggie smiled at the woman. “Here, I found these in here.”

  She handed over a small bottle of pills. On the label it read: Anti-inflammatory for Betsy.

  Betsy laughed. “Danson is still looking out for me I guess.”

  “You know Danson?”

  “I’ve talked to him couple of times, never met im.” The old woman said. “Just on the radio. What’s he look like?”

  “Well, honestly I have never seen him either. I don’t think there is that much to see.” Maggie explained. “Danson is a computer.”

  “Well I’d be a son of a…” She cackled. “I’d no idea. We’s always thought he was some insider sneaking you girls out.”

  “In a way he is.” Maggie agreed. “You have a radio to him?”

  Betsy shook her head. “Master Ferguson does. He talks to Danson all the time about what is going on in the city and especially the port.”

  “Well, take the pills, twice a day with water. Wait thirty minutes before eating so the food will not mute the pill’s effects.”

  “Yeah yeah. I know the routine.” Betsy said with a smile as she patted Maggie’s hand.

  “And you need to start a regiment of adding clove oils to your tea to maintain your joints.” Maggie further advised.

  “That’s done easily nough. And now dear,” Betsy stood up and made her way over to Maggie, “it’s time for you to go.”

  “Go?”

  Betsy gave Maggie a tender hug. The old woman’s body felt small and frail in the embrace.

  “Yes.” Betsy broke off the hug and pointed to the harbor. “Your Rafter as returned.”

  Maggie grabbed her satchel and fumbled with it trying to latch it shut.

  “Take care of yous and be sure to see me when you come through St. Ellwood!”

  “Thank you Betsy!” The daughter called out as she went running down the hallway.

  “Oh! And tell the captain there’s a fur
ry in…” The rest of what Betsy said was lost as Maggie bounded down the stairs and rushed through the kitchen.

  She dodged around tables and made a quick, “Thank you!” to the maître d’ as she burst out the front door. She saw the Rafter just casting off a guy line from the boat. She went running up the dock but he did not seem to see her.

  Just as she reached the side of the boat he looked up and noticed her.

  “Can I help you?” He asked, he sounded irritated.

  “I need travel to the South Lands on the other side of the gulf.” She replied.

  “Are you lost?” He asked her.

  She nodded.

  He seemed torn about something for a moment before he finally replied. “Get on board, go hide in the cabin!”

  She stepped over the side and made her way to the cabin he had indicated. The boat was shifting slightly under her feet and it felt weird to her. She had never been on a boat before.

  The Rafter continued his work at the console as she ducked into the cabin. Inside it was a lot cooler and the light was not so bright. She set her satchel down on table in the cabin and sat down in a chair.

  A moment later she was startled by a noise behind her and she turned around and did not see anything at first but then as her eyes finished adjusting she spotted something beneath the cabin bunk. There was a grey shape in the shadows and it had eyes looking back at her. It seemed to realize she was looking at it and put a finger to its mouth signaling silence.

  She jumped up and went out the door to the cabin.

  “Excuse me captain! Captain!” She called out. “There is someone in here!”

  She noticed movement behind her at the door and saw the person there. It was a coal grey furry. He