Chapter Text
Gazing around the small, simple hotel room Ava Silva has to admit that while it’s not ideal, it’s a far sight better than where she’d been a year ago. Her traveling companion is a boy she’s sweet on, the sheets on the twin beds looked soft and clean, and the window lets in plenty of bright winter sun, something she never got enough of in California, even when she was no longer bed bound. She places her small bag on the bed closest to the window and hangs her spare dress in the wardrobe. The wardrobe smells mustier than she expected, and it takes her back.
She stood with a cane, the tallest and oldest by far in a long line of youths, in the damp main hall of the orphanage. All the others her age had long since been adopted, able-bodied, suited for work on a farm or in a factory. They were worth the extra mouth to feed. Ava was not.
Through the window, she saw the arrival of a red automobile, sunlight glinting off the silver bird on the hood. She looked down beside her to Diego, his jaw slackened by the display of wealth. The children rarely saw a Model T, let alone something as glamorous as whatever vehicle this is. Ava wasn’t sure she even knew the manufacturer. The vehicle slowed to a stop and the chauffeur stepped out. Just as the prior visit, the first time she’d seen him, he was dressed simply in a black suit and despite the overcast weather, wore sun goggles that distorted the appearance of his eyes. Even from a distance, Ava could see the odd darkness behind the tinted green lenses. It was unsettling, and she avoided looking too directly at his face as he and his employer entered the house.
Sister Frances greeted him with a simpering smile, demure in a way Ava only saw when the benefactors visited the home.
“Mr. Duretti, a blessing to have you visit us, as always. The children are eager to update you on their academics and activities.” Mr. Duretti was a man of average height somewhere in his fifties, judging by the gray increasingly streaking through his hair upon each of his visits. He had a way of sweeping into a room that bothered Ava. Like a cold wind on a sunny winter day he acted like his presence was a gift, but in reality, didn’t really do much about the weather. He clasped Frances’ hands in his and kissed the air on either side of her cheeks.
“Dear sister, I’m so glad to see you well. Let me say hello to the children and then we can speak of your work.”
Duretti greeted each child individually, remarking on John’s growth spurt, or Marcie’s lost tooth, and asking after the children who had joined or left the home since his last visit. He reached Diego, who rushed past the pleasantries to ask about the automobile. Duretti laughed, a practiced, disingenuous sound.
“It’s a Hispano-Suiza, my boy. Mr. Fonesca would be glad to tell you about it while I talk with Sister Frances, wouldn’t you, Baltasar?” Baltasar, always a step behind Mr. Duretti, nodded stiffly once,
“Of course, sir. Always happy to discuss automobiles with children.” Ava thought briefly that his tone suggested otherwise, but in truth his tone …didn’t suggest much at all. It was flat and dead. She glanced up to his eyes, catching a glimpse of that unsettling darkness again before he appeared to school his face and when she blinked, they were a normal, if dark, brown. Duretti looked to Ava and was noticeably surprised to see her upright and out of her chair.
“Well, praise the Lord above! Ms. Ava, it is wonderful to see you standing!” He stepped in and kissed her cheeks, to her surprise and distaste.
“Yes, Mr. Duretti. It is quite the miracle. Sister Frances’ care is such a blessing.” Ava had long since learned the lines Frances required of her, but refused to put any effort into her tone, much like Mr. Fonesca. Duretti smiled, not at all thrown by her attitude.
“It certainly is. How old are you now, prezado?” It takes all of Ava’s willpower to not cringe at the unexpected pet name.
“I turn sixteen in December, sir.”
“Ah! You are so much older than the other children here. Perhaps you would join Sister Frances and I for tea, once we’ve finished discussing the upkeep of the home. We can discuss your future.” Ava looked to Sister Frances in alarm, who for her part, looked equally unsettled by the man’s suggestion. To Ava’s dismay, she collected herself and nodded.
“Of course, a wonderful suggestion.” Ava looked back to Mr. Duretti and forced a smile.
“I would be happy to, Mr. Duretti.”
He smiled at her again, and proceeded towards Sister’ Frances’ rooms, his chauffeur and the sister trailing close behind. Mr. Fonesca made eye contact with Ava as he passed, and she was hit with a wave of nausea so strong she had to lean on her cane. Diego grabbed her arm in concern, but she waved him off, the feeling passing as quickly as it came on.
The nun and the benefactor closed themselves in Frances’ sitting room and Mr. Fonesca seated himself in one of the chairs nearby. Diego and the other children piled around him to pepper him with questions about the automobile, but Ava kept herself back. Mr. Duretti was a sleaze but relatively harmless. His driver was not. Animosity oozed out of every pore. She couldn’t explain it, but Ava had felt that if she looked into Mr. Fonesca’s eyes for too long she might lose part of herself. She watched the children, Diego particularly, but looked to Fonesca as little as possible, using his tone to gauge if she needed to step in and scatter them. They lost interest naturally after they asked as many questions about the automobile as their young minds could create, and they drifted away from the driver. Despite no longer being contained by childhood zeal, Fonesca remained perfectly still. Ava had begun to drift off from boredom when Sister Frances opened the door.
“Ava, come here, please.”
Ava begrudgingly rose and joined Sister Frances and Mr. Duretti in the sitting room. The room was mostly used for conversations with prospective adopters, so Ava had rarely, if ever, had cause to enter. The decor had to be the original decoration from the 1880s, and was somehow mustier than the rest of the house. Ava decided immediately that she hated the room. Duretti gestured to the chair next to him, and Ava took it. He began telling her about his life; his family’s nobility, his immigration from Portugal after the coup in 1910, and the businesses he had built in America. Ava admitted it sounded impressive, though she didn’t know why it mattered.
“Miss Ava, when you turn sixteen this year, have you thought about what you’ll do?”
“I’ve been thinking I’d like to work a little bit and travel, Mr. Duretti. My mother was from Portugal like you, but I grew up in Kentucky before we were here. I’d like to go east, and maybe even to Europe.”
“A romantic and understandable desire for someone your age. What work would you like to do? I’m sure the good sister would welcome another teacher.” The nun and Ava grimaced in unison again.
“Sister Frances and I both believe it will be better for me to branch out from the…safe walls of the home. I’ve had fewer opportunities to leave than most.
“Ah, of course. Sister Frances expressed a similar sentiment.” His tone was amused, as if he knew of the facade Ava and Frances put up for these visits.
“Well, Ms. Ava, I have a proposal for you. As I just told you, I have been blessed with much wealth and status despite the circumstances of my presence in this country. I have not, however, been blessed with a wife or heir. I am happy to continue to fund the church upon my passing, but do hope to carry on my family’s name. I hope you can help me with that.” Ava’s stomach roiled. His implication was clear, but too repugnant to voice. She adopted an innocent tone and asked
“You want to adopt me, Mr. Duretti?” Sister Frances choked on her tea and Duretti shifted uncomfortably.
“Ah, well, no, Ms. Ava. My proposal is, quite literally, a proposal. When you turn sixteen, we would marry. I understand an arrangement like this with a man my age is no longer appealing for most young women, however, once I have a son and he is weaned, I will be happy to fund a life of travel and relative luxury for you. You would not have to work and you could return to Kentucky and even Portugal as soon as the arrangement has been fulfilled.”
“It is an incredibly generous offering, Ms. Ava.” Frances interjected, “Mr. Duretti doesn’t expect an answer now, of course. He will return in a month for your answer, in order to make preparations. Return to the others and think on it. But know this, it is better than any opportunity I could have imagined for you. ” Her tone is still the simpering, sickly sweet one she adopts for benefactors, but the implication is clear to Ava. This is the best you’re going to get, girl, and you don’t deserve it. As she leaves, there is only one thought in Ava’s mind: run.
“Ava? You alright?” She’s broken from her reverie by the sound of her traveling companion JC entering the room. JC is a tall, tan boy just a few years older than Ava. She had managed to drop every one of his packages while wrapping them for him in Salt Lake City, one hot August day. Rather than upsetting him, it seemed to charm him and he invited her to join him at a speakeasy later that evening. Over sharp, illegal liquor and the music of a lone saxophone, Ava was entranced by his stories about traveling across the country with his friends, sometimes working but mostly scheming for meals, lodging, and entertainment. As they walked back to the lodging house, JC held her hand and asked her to travel with them. She wouldn’t get to New York much faster with them than by herself, but she’d see far more places and JC was downright handsome and didn’t seem to want to ask too many questions.
He was sweet, too, and fairly quiet. But when his friend Zori suggested they leave Ava behind when her pain flared in late November, he demanded they stay to ensure her safety. The pain receded after a couple of days and they were able to move on as a group, but not for much longer. Just after Christmas, and Ava’s 17th birthday, in St. Louis, as JC suggested going further east towards New York, Zori, Randell, and Chanel decided to go further south to New Orleans. And so the pair found themselves in this small town called Areala’s Gap, posing as siblings to preserve the sensibilities of the baptist biddies.
Ava smiles at him and closes the wardrobe.
“Just fine, JC. Just thinking about the pie at the diner we saw on our way here.”
“Always pie with you,” he teases, “Well, let’s go get a slice and then see who needs working hands. General store’s still going to be our best bet this time of year.” She joins him at the door and he gives her a brief, awkward kiss on the cheek before they exit the room.
The general store is the best bet for work by a long shot, as it happened. The owner Matteo, a soft-spoken man with tired eyes and an easy smile, looks relieved at the idea of extra hands.
“My little one has been sick. She and her mother are usually here as well, but it will be a long time before they are up to the work again. One of you can help me in the mornings, and one in the afternoons. Or, there is night work as well.” Night work was the only unusual aspect of working for Matteo.
“I’d like to work the afternoons,” JC says just as Ava asks,
“What kind of night work? Is there a late train for deliveries?”
“No no, nothing like that. Please follow me.” JC and Ava lock eyes and after considering for a moment, shrug, and follow. Matteo leads them to a door in the back of the store, which opens to a staircase into what Ava assumes is the stockroom. Matteo takes out a match and lights the candles along the wall as they descend. At the bottom of the stairs, rather than a stockroom, Ava is delighted to find a bar and collection of tables.
“There is bar work as well. Someone working the bar would mean I can take care of my daughter and let my wife rest at night. We are not teetotalers here; the sheriff enjoys his drink as much as any. It is better to keep up appearances, however.”
“Oh! I’d love to do that!” Ava bounces with enthusiasm. She could meet so many people, learn about so many places as a barmaid. Matteo looks as if he might cry from relief.
“How wonderful. My wife will be so happy to rest. Can you start tonight?”
Ava smiles broadly and looks at JC. Yeah, things really are looking up.