Pipsqueak
<3
“C’mon Alfie! Time’s a wastin’!” Benny called to the sheepdog who was still dawdling behind him. Alfie barked happily and trotted up to his side, his tail wagging happily as if he knew it was a special day. Really, Benny only believed it to be his birthday. He’d tried hard to remember the days his mother would hold a secret party for him while his father was away at work, but it seemed the best memories had the shortest life. He did know it was always hotter around his special day, so now would be as good of a day as any.
The muggy heat seemed to swirl around him, making his thick red hair stick to his sweaty face. Still, the uncomfortable weather did nothing to dampen his mood. The pair strolled along on their way to the twin’s place. Someone had to celebrate with him, and he knew exactly where Mary would be. Helena wouldn’t want to come, and Benny was secretly okay with that. After Bruce’s ordeal, his trust in her lessened considerably.
“Mornin’,” A fat man resting along the side of the road called, breaking his concentration, “Care for an apple?” Benny glanced down to find a crate of the shiny fruit at the man’s feet. Shrugging, he picked one up and took a bite.
“Yuck! What’s this?” Benny swiped at his tongue as if it hurt and put the apple back in the crate.
“It’s a red delicious my boy! You’d, er, better take that. Can’t be sellin’ food that’s already been eaten.”
“Well I can’t be eatin’ food with a misleadin’ name now can I? I’ll have ye know it’s my birthday.” He pointed to himself matter of factly. The man gave him an odd glance and picked up the fruit Benny had grabbed.
“Take it.”
“No.”
“Boy, I don’t care what you do with the damn fruit after, alright? Take it ‘n go.” Benny shook his head and kept walking, but Alfie seemed to take an interest in the disgusting thing.
“Alfie no! You’ll get poisoned!” Grabbing the dog by his scruff, the two scurried off down the road as obscenities were yelled after them.
“Gotta teach ye the importance of what ta eat and what not ta eat.” He tisked at Alfie before turning right. The familiar sign of the pub came into view, and Benny was wise enough to put Alfie next door.
“Stay here or Helena’ll have a fit. Stay!” With that he made his way inside and down the steps to the sister's room.
“MARY! MARY COME OUT HERE!”
Mary was sitting at a table in her room with Miles; the pub was properly lifeless in the middle of the day. She was in the middle of beating the man in chess when the astringent shrieking of a child startled her and caused her to bump the table, knocking over the pieces.
“Bloody hell,” she said, abruptly standing and leaving Miles to deal with the mess. Her leg had begun to properly heal, now only walking with a slight limp and her cane. She shuffled over to the door and creaked it open to find the source of her discomfort.
The Irish urchin.
“Bennet, what in blazes are you doing outside of my room?”
“Lookin’ fer you, o’ ‘course. It’s a special day today and I’ve gotta have someone to accompany me. Nearly got poisoned on my way here, can ye believe it? Some wanker’s sellin’ some disgustin’ food. Don’t believe him when he says they’re delicious. He’s out fer twenty year olds.”
He gave Mary a cheeky grin before popping his head in to wave at Miles.
“‘Mornin!”
Mary watched Bennet push past into her room to say hi to Miles, mouth agape. “I’m sorry, Bennet, I believe I must have misheard you. The, uh, wanker is out for whom?”
“Er,” Benny glanced at her before counting slowly on his fingers, then nodded, “yep! Twenty! More n’ nineteen. Yer still twenty, yea? Or did you two get a birthday before me?” He scratched his head in frustration before plopping onto what he assumed to be Mary’s makeshift bed.
“Anyways, figured you’d like to come with Alfie n’ me fer a birthday trip!”
Mary’s eye twitched as the cursed child sat down on her belongings. If Lena were here, she’d have ripped the sod’s ear off, but Mary was doing her damndest to keep her emotions in check.
“Bennet, dear,” she began again, “I do believe you must have miscounted.” Mary smiled as gently as she could, eye twitching again. “There’s hardly an ounce of a chance that we occupy the same place upon the numerical calendar. For Christ’s sake, dearie, you’re hardly a teen.”
The youngest gang member nodded carefully, weighing the possibility of Mary being right against his own experiences.
“Alright, eighteen then. I ain’t too keen on how many birthdays I got, but I’m sure it’s today.” With this new realization in mind, he stood and took Mary’s arm.
“C’mon then! We’ve got eighteen things ta get today!” He led his boss enthusiastically out of the door, waving a hurried goodbye in Miles’s direction.
Mary winced at the boy’s touch, but her gaze softened. “You’re right, dear, eighteen sounds much more reasonable for a young, uppity lad such as yourself.” As Bennet pulled her through the door, she turned back to Miles. “Sorry, love, but I would greatly appreciate your cleaning of the mess. Cheers!”
It wasn’t until they were outside of the pub that Mary finally yanked her arm out of the boy’s hand and fixed the mostly-clean shirt he’d crumpled in his fists. “Daft it all,” she whined, pressing into her arm over and over again to smooth out the wrinkles. When she’d patted her sleeve for the 8th time and progress still hadn’t been made, she sighed and turned her gaze to the Irish child.
“Yes, well, eighteen is quite the year, Bennet. If you request my presence so meekly, I suppose I must oblige you. What are these plans in which I am accompanying your undertaking?”
Benny grinned at her before whistling over to a patiently waiting Alfie.
“C’mere boy! Come see Mary!” At his beckon the sheepdog bounded over to them, leaping to rest his paws on Mary. Benny had the mind to put a steadying hand on her back to keep from falling over- Something that happened to him quite often when Alfie got too excited.
“First order o’ business miss Nevitt! We get rid o’ that doctor.”
Mary was mortified. On its hind legs, the beast was nearly as tall as she was and was almost certainly heavier. She’d tried to sidestep the monster when it came barreling in her direction, but Bennet, blasted fool that he was, had imprisoned her. She was trapped - trapped betwixt two creatures of similar intellect, nearly being crushed in the process.
“Bennet! Release me!”
He stepped back hurriedly at her command, letting the rest of Alfie’s weight lean on her.
“So is that a yes? Don’t worry, ye don’t even have to break the bad news to the doc! I wrote up a full apology about the misunderstandin’.” Benny searched his pockets, dismayed to find them empty. Frowning, he searched carefully but with the same result.
“Well, I’ll just tell her.”
Mary fell backward as the boy moved out of her way, stumbling onto the ground with a thud. Almost instinctively, she smacked the dog on the snout. “Bloody– unhand me beast!” It whimpered and finally got off of her, but the damage had already been done.
Her white blouse had been stained brown in the shape of the mutt’s paws and her tweed pants were wet with whatever in God’s name had dampened the pavement outside of the pub.
She glared at the urchin and his beast. “A moment, dear.”
She rose from the ground, brushed herself off, and shuffled back inside the pub and to her room. Miles had finished cleaning up the chess pieces, and so Mary quickly disrobed out of her soiled garments and donned comparably fresh and unstained streetwear.
She now wore a different white blouse under a brown cotton vest - colored as such in case the beast deigned to soil her again. Over her legs, she wore cheap, grey linen pants that had been patched at the knees after a scuffle by the river a few months ago.
Quickly rushing back out the door, she resumed her ruined day with the teen.
“Yes, well, I’m finished changing out of the clothes your monster ruined,” she began, glaring at the wicked thing at Bennet’s heel. “But, what’s this nonsense about the doctor? Do you mean Michelle Blackburn?”
Benny winced at her cold disposition, reaching down to pet Alfie’s head comfortingly.
“Ye look great, Mary. Much prettier with the… Er,” He struggled to find exactly what she had changed as he glanced over her, “vest.” He had forgotten exactly who he was talking to. Although Mary was much kinder than her sister in terms of how they dealt with remorse, Mary was still a gang leader. His leader.
“Won’t happen again, swear it!” Crossing his heart with his index finger, Benny sighed and nodded at her question.
“Mhm, exactly! I’ve got all I need ta know about doctorin’. I don’t think we need her followin’ us around like a lost pup. No offense.” He glanced down at Alfie, who had taken to laying quietly at his feet after the reprimand.
“‘Sides, it’s my birthday! If she decides ta cash in her promise of sickin’ the cops on me soon I’d never forgive myself fer passin’ up this opportunity.”
“Bennet, dear, we’ve only just let the doctor into our group. We’ve no plans to cut her out so unceremoniously before she’s even done anything!” Mary rubbed at her temples with her hands. Bennet knew how to test her patience like none other she’d ever encountered. What sins had she committed to warrant such suffering? “She wouldn’t ‘sick the cops’ on you if she values her continued existence on this earth, I can promise you that much. Lena and I don’t take kindly to misconduct, as I’m sure you remember.”
Benny shuddered at the thought. He hadn’t spoken to Bruce since that night. He had desperately wanted to talk to him, but after visiting his shack only to find it empty, he’d quickly given up.
“It was worth a shot,” he shrugged, “Then how’s ‘bout we go shoppin’? I know a great place with lotsa fancy clothes! I know you’d like a new dress.” He nudged her in the arm, hoping the thought of wearing something nice would change her mood.
Mary scoffed. “Trying to butter me up is unbecoming of a newly eighteen year old, Bennet.” She began briskly walking away from the pub before turning around. “It worked, though, come along now!”
—-----------------------------------------
“Yup, this is the place!” Benny unwrapped the candy he had swiped on their way to the familiar house and popped it in his mouth.
He glanced up at the building with his hands on his hips as if deciding the best way to get in.
“Last time some crazy woman caught me takin’ her husband’s clothes, but don’t you worry. I doubt she’d be havin’ another tea party today.”
Mary smacked the boy on the back of the head when she realized the “shopping” he had promised was simply an unplanned heist for some middle aged woman’s second hand dresses. “Fucking– do you call this bloody shopping, Bennet? Shopping does not involve pilfering poorly cleaned hand-me-downs you dratted fool!”
She smacked him again and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t be able to believe this if it was anyone but you, Bennet.” She was tapping her foot nearly hard enough to crack the cement outside of the idiots’ house that Bennet wanted to rob from a second time.
“Thank you.” He knew damn well it wasn’t really a compliment, but he refused to risk getting hit a third time.
She couldn’t handle this for much longer. No matter that it was the blasted idiot’s birthday, some charity was too costly for even Mary to wager an effort at paying. Who could aleve her of this pain? Lena was away, presumably with Astrid, Brucie had moved his shack, and Mary didn’t know where anyone else in the gang resided–
“Conor!” she exclaimed aloud without realizing it. “Conor! Yes. Bennet, how would you like your birthday extravaganza to include more than just me, your best friend and most trusted advisor, but Conor as well! Your kinsman from the Emerald Isle has taken up residence in a scrap yard not too far from here. Yes! We shall pay him a visit.”
Mary grabbed Benny’s hand and quickly led him away from the home he wanted to rob. The fool.
—---------------------------------------------
Benny sulked behind Mary as she led him and Alfie along the railroad.
“Mary,” he began quietly, hesitant to say much lest it invoke her wrath, “what’s the emerald isle? And how come Conor’s gotta come from there too? I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t have chosen such a place if he knew I were there.” He enjoyed Conor’s company, but after the fight they’d had so long ago it was clear his cohort didn’t exactly feel the same.
“And why’s he gotta live in a train? Doesn’t he know these things move? And how come-”
“Bennet!” Mary snapped, turning around to face the boy. “For Christ’s sake, child, how are you alive?” She spun back on her heels and continued leading the child and his lost pet along the railway.
“The Emerald Isle,” she said, loud enough for Benny to hear without turning around, “is the colloquial term for Ireland. You two are Irishmen. From Ireland. The Emerald Isle.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Does that make sense? Are you following, dearie, or need I simplify it even more?”
Benny scoffed and crossed his arms.
“I ain’t a child.”
Mary continued to lead the way toward Conor’s train car, but they were already nearly there. Bad memories of her breaking down, losing all composure in front of Mr. Murphy, flooded in as she began treading upon the familiar ground once more. Even Lena had not seen her in that state in many nights. Were Conor to desire continued position within their gang, he’d keep her secret.
Oh, he had better keep her secret.
Mary took a deep breath. Standing outside of the car, Mary lifted her cane and banged on the door repeatedly. “Conor! Oh, Conor Murphy! I’ve come calling for you, dear Conor, for we have work to do together!” She banged the cane thrice more for good measure.
There was only a moment’s pause before the carriage door slid open a crack with a screech, the barrel of a pistol just visible through the opening. Holding it was a very bewildered Conor, his eyes wide as saucers and his hair all a mess. He’d apparently been napping.
“Crepes and apples, boss, you wanna shout louder next time?” he hissed, lowering his weapon. The man’s glare deepened when it settled on Benny. Great. He was already stressing about Mary knowing where his home was, and now he has to deal with the little gremlin having the same knowledge?
“What’s he doin’ here?” he asked Mary accusingly. “Actually, what are either o’you doin’ here?”
Conor suddenly tilted his head to the side, as if he was only now processing Mary’s words. “Wait, we got a job?”
Benny glanced at Mary, trying to convey his confusion on why she thought it such a good idea to bring him.
“Ah, come off it mate. It’s my birthday! Mary says we gotta bring you along.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed in on Conor. “Yes, Mr. Anderton has turned eighteen years old today, God save us.” She leaned slightly closer to Conor and continued. “Bennet decided that his birthday would be made more joyful by spending it with me.” She glanced back to Benny and then back to Conor. “Only me. Bennet and I, together, just the two of us, in celebration of this youth’s first foray into adulthood.”
Mary cleared her throat and settled back into the position she was in prior to pleading with her eyes to Conor. “I figured, well, we might as well make this a proper party and involve more of the gang. You were the very first name that sprung to mind, in fact,” she lied. “Why, the three of us celebrating dear Bennet’s birth - my, I could hardly come up with a million better ways to spend the day!”
She reached up into the car and pulled on Conor’s arm. “Come love, please. Please.”
Conor rolled his eyes and pulled his arm free before disappearing behind the door. He emerged a few moments later, dressed in a coat and scarf and scowl. The undertones of the situation weren’t lost on him; clearly Mary was in agony and she wanted someone to keep the little goblin off her back.
Still, if it was Benny’s birthday…
“One second,” Conor said. He dipped back into the carriage, tossing a few of his meager belongings to the ground as he rummaged through the space. After a handful of curses and more grumbling, he popped back out with a small package, wrapped sloppily in burlap.
“Ready,” he said simply, closing the door behind him and locking it.
“What’s that there?” Benny asked as they began walking back the way he and Mary had come.
“Can I see?” He peaked over the man’s shoulder curiously as Alfie ran ahead of the group. Before Conor could answer he gasped.
“Is it fer me? Did ye get me somethin’ fer my special day?”
“No,” Conor said firmly, pushing the parcel into his coat. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
He shot a dark look at Mary, as if to say, you owe me for this one.
“How old are you, anyway?” he asked. “Fifteen? Sixteen?”
Benny scoffed again, rolling his eyes as he sidled up next to his brother from the Emerald Isle, as Mary put it.
“Eighteen. Thought I was twenty, but Mary said there’s no way. Guess she would know.” He shrugged before eyeing Conor’s coat.
“I’m always good. Better n’ good! I got eighteen birthday wishes by the by, but we can’t kill the doc just yet so I gotta come up with somethin’ else now.” He thought for a moment before snapping his fingers.
“I want pie.”
“Yes, yes, pie sounds wonderful, dear,” Mary said, reaching up to scruff up the lad’s hair. “Big slice of pie for the big boy that is definitely an adult.” She leaned backward out of Bennet’s line of sight and shook her head at Conor. “Or should we say man now, eh?”
—-----------------------------------------
“For heaven’s sake, Bennet, we’ve been at this for seven hours! Are you nearly done with your birthday wishes yet?” Mary was angrily tapping her foot on the ground once again and exasperatedly pinching at the bridge of her nose.
Benny was sitting on the ground just outside the pub, Alife sprawled out over his legs. He wasn’t actually sure how many birthday wishes he’d cashed in, but none of them felt right. He’d had two people he cared about with him, gotten his favorite dessert, mocked some cops, pushed a man into the Thames, and just about everything in between. He’d laughed so hard all day he had thrown himself into a coughing fit! But now that the excitement had died down, he realized none of it really made it as special as he thought. It was just another day for him.
He’d hardly heard Mary, but her tapping foot broke him out of his thoughts.
“Just about. I…” he paused for a moment, frowning. Did he really think this was such a good idea? Would the two be up for something like this?
“It’s my birthday,” he began slowly, doing something he rarely did- think before speaking. “I’ve done just about everything I can think ta do, and if you guys don’t wanna accompany me fer my last wish I’ll understand but… I think I wanna go see my mum.”
Mary abruptly stopped tapping her foot. Oh dear. Had she heard him right? He wanted to see his mum? And he wanted Mary and Conor to accompany him?
Of all the things Mary hadn’t expected to be asked, that one was probably the highest on the list. Had she not set up walls preventing the gang from seeing her too closely? Did the gang not resent her and her harshness? What about what she had ordered them to do to dear Brucie? Had she been forgiven unjustly? Did Bennet truly value her companionship so dearly that he’d not only spend his entire birthday with her, but ask her to do something so personal?
It was all too much! This was a closeness she was not comfortable sharing with Bennet of all people. Yet…
Mary was dizzy, her entire understanding of the gang’s perception of her had been shaken, but she carefully walked over to Bennet and sat down next to him. She looked up at Conor before turning back to the boy and pinching his cheek. “I think we can manage that one, dearie.”
Conor suddenly felt very strange, cold and warm all over at the same time. He didn’t like it, and part of him wanted to turn around right then and go back to his train carriage. It was more than annoyance, or awkwardness. Benny’s words, and the thought of what Conor might be forced to confront — if what the younger lad had said concerning his father was anything to go off of — prodded him with a deeper sort of discomfort, something near pain. Or fear.
But another part of him knew doing so was as impossible for him — would be as painful as — cutting off his own arm.
Conor tipped his hat downward, shading his expression with its stout brim.
“Sure thing, Benny,” he mumbled. “We’ll be right behind you.”
—---------------------------------------------
The trio walked carefully towards the asylum, Benny in the lead. He’d tearfully left Alfie at the front gate, his best friend’s lack of comfort extremely disconcerting. The boy tried hard to hide his shaking hands. He’d not seen his mom since… oh, how long ago was it? Eleven years? She’d been taken from him ever since his father deemed it necessary to put her here to rot. Benny hadn’t had the courage to visit until now, and he began having his doubts as the front door loomed ever closer.
He refused to look back at Mary and Conor, scared that they’d see just how terrified he really was. Despite the June heat, a chill crept up his spine. He briefly thought about telling them to turn back. They could just do something simple for his last wish- perhaps drink. Yes, he’d drink as heavily as Brucie, as a tribute to him for what they’d done.
His feet refused to follow his thoughts, however. They carried him all the way to the big metal door that led into the cursed place. His mother was here? Alone?
Without a word he opened the door, his body seemingly acting separately from what he wanted. The scent of sterilized cleaner rushed up to him, reminding Benny of doc Shelley’s place. It was empty save for a single attendee at the front desk. She barely spared a glance to them as they entered, but her voice traveled to greet them.
“What can I do for you three?” Benny pursed his lips momentarily, unsure how this was supposed to work.
“Er… we’re here ta see Eliza Anderton. Elizabeth.” Finally the woman looked up, glancing between the three of them suspiciously.
“You related?”
“Yes’m. I’m her son.” It felt weird to say. He hadn’t felt like anyone’s son in so long. He’d always been his own person, running with the gang as some tagalong. Recently it felt as if the gang didn’t really want him either, and he couldn’t say he didn’t blame them. Benny wasn’t someone’s first pick, and he’d grown to understand that.
“And those two?” She stared pointedly at Conor and Mary.
Benny grit his teeth, suddenly feeling defensive.
“They’re with me.” The woman paused as if considering their authenticity, then nodded.
“Third floor, room 312.” Benny nodded but remained in place. Suddenly his chest seemed too tight, his throat closing as it did before a coughing fit. This was a mistake. She wouldn’t want to see him, not after his absence.
“I can’t…”
Mary gently reached out to Bennet, wrapping her arm around his back and resting her hand on his shoulder. This was a bad place; his mum must have suffered here. And if his reaction to this was any indication, he hadn’t visited in a long time, perhaps ever.
It made Mary realize she hadn’t visited her parents’ graves in nearly ten years. She’d resented them leaving her and Lena to fend for themselves. They had to become each others’ parents when they were hardly beyond toddling. It was a wicked thing to do to children. They were hardly worth anything as parents, as far as Mary was concerned.
But, Bennet seemed fond of his mum. She must have put in an effort, at least in her own way. The boy clearly cared enough to try and see her, even after so much time had passed. Maybe that fondness made this all the harder.
Mary squeezed Bennet’s shoulders. Perhaps she’d grown soft on him after spending an entire day with him. Perhaps she was already softer than she’d insisted. Perhaps… it didn’t ultimately matter. Bennet placed his trust in her today; she wasn’t going to betray him.
“Come on love,” she said, beginning to guide him down the hall and toward the stairs. “We’re here with you, Bennet. You’re not alone now.” She smiled at him and subtly gestured with a nod for Conor to follow them.
Conor followed wordlessly. Though they were indoors, he’d pulled his scarf closer to his face, which had taken on a bit of a pallor. This place reminded him of some of the cramped buildings his family would stay at when they were between jobs. Sure, the facilities here were in a bit better shape — there weren’t any holes in the walls for the cold wind to blow through — but they seemed lonelier, somehow.
Setting his expression into a stony neutrality, Conor kept his gaze forward, staring into the back of Benny’s head. If the kid wanted him there, he’d be there. That was just the way it was going to happen.
Conor tried to hold to that thought, to keep his mind from wandering. But it was hard not to think about his own Ma. It’d been months, at this point, since he’d received his last letter from his family. That itself wasn’t entirely unusual; it got expensive to keep sending messages across the Irish Sea. Maybe they were waiting for him to write first, or to send some money, or to tell them he’d found a place.
He’d tried — he really had. He’d just been busy lately, that was all. He’d write up a letter and visit the post first thing when he got back to the railyard, just to check in and ask after everyone. Ma and Pa would appreciate that, wouldn’t they?
Or maybe they’d decided he’d given up on them. Maybe they’d given up on him.
Conor shook his head, trying to refocus on the stairs in front of him. How long had they been walking?
Benny didn’t know himself. He was overly aware of the somber mood between them, but this time he didn’t have a witty comment to make it better. The only thing he could focus on clearly were their footsteps against the cold tiled floor and Mary’s gentle grasp. At this point he would’ve settled for the exasperated anger she’d had all day rather than the uncomfortable silence. This was not a position he’d wanted his boss and Conor to be here for. Really he hadn’t been planning on this at all when the day began, but the celebration had only brought back the memories of his mother.
She was only a few steps away now. The large black ‘312’ seemed to glare menacingly at them as they all stopped in front of the wooden door. This time Benny did spare a look to the others. He couldn’t decide what they were feeling, but suddenly his eyes began to water. They’d really done this for him. Benny Anderton, the weakest, stupidest runt, as his father would say. Was he really as alone as he originally believed?
He wouldn’t have gotten this far without them. He’d never be able to say it out loud, he knew that, but he desperately hoped they knew how much this meant.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Mum? It’s me… Bennet.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he slowly turned the knob and cracked the door open. The room was small. No windows were built to let in light, the only way to see being two lit candles resting on the walls. One bed sat against the furthest wall, a chair catty corner, and one lone figure hunched lightly on it. At the sound of the opening door, Eliza snapped her head to attention.
“Who’er you? Yer not a doctor. Who are you?” Her dark eyes darted wildly between the three of them before resting on Benny.
“Oh mum… what happened to ye?” Benny’s eyes grew wide with dismay as he scoured her over. She was so skinny. Her once shiny, curly red hair was now matted and dirty and thin. Her skin was gaunt, and her hands curled painfully over each other. One could see the beauty she’d once held behind her sagged appearance if they looked hard enough, but it was difficult to do so. What scared Benny most were her eyes. She was completely lost in her own mind- completely broken.
“Answer me! Street rats! Dirty urchins!” Elizabeth shot up from her chair and began backing away. Her voice rose in pitch, on the verge of hysterics.
“Mum! It’s me, yer son Benny? Remember?” He held his hands up to her but didn’t move.
“You are not my son! My little Bennet is only nine! NINE!” Again she shrieked at them, clearly unaware of exactly how much time had passed. Benny pursed his lips before taking a careful, deliberate step forward. One hand was still outstretched, with his other he reached into his pocket and retrieved his last hard candy. It had always been her favorite, something the two had shared in secret when his father was away, much like his birthday.
“Nah… it’s me mum. I finally came back,” Benny’s voice cracked with emotion, but he quickly cleared it and tried again. “I’ve got our favorite candy, remember? Father’s not here right now, so it’s okay ta have some.” He’d made it to her chair. Eliza had backed up to her bed, keeping the same amount of distance between them.
“My son isn’t a street rat,” she spit the words harshly, “He wanted ta be a saloon keeper.” Benny made a face at that. Even without her wits she still managed to say something embarrassing.
“Y-yea, I did mum. I, uh… plans changed.” He took another step, but became alarmed as her eyes flashed angrily over to Mary and Conor. It was like wrangling a wild animal… not that he’d ever done that.
“S’alright ma. They’re friends o’ mine. Real nice like. Well, most o’ the time.” He managed a small smirk to them before focusing on the fearful woman again. He tugged on the brim of his hat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling dizzy as a whole new wave of emotions and memories flooded over him.
“I’m doin’ alright. Got my own dog now, got… got some friends. Dad’s, uh… he’s gone. Won’t be comin’ back.” Eliza watched him as he began talking again, still inching his way towards her.
“Today’s my birthday, did ye know? Eighteen now, ma, can ye believe it?” He chuckled but was quickly cut off with a nasty cough.
“I’m doin’- doin’ fine.” He was halfway to her. He’d kept eye contact, but something finally changed. She seemed to soften.
“Yes… yes, my Bennet was sick. Mild case o’ black lung, sounded croupy, just like that.” She nodded towards him. Benny tilted his head questioningly, unsure what exactly that meant.
“A’right Mum. Whatever ye say.” Finally he was there, and she allowed the boy to take her hand. Benny drew it up to his face before pressing his lips against her cold skin.
“Bennet?” Eliza croaked, her voice dropping drastically. He merely nodded, and she finally broke down. Finally. The old woman dropped to her knees on the bed, and Benny was able to embrace her.
“Sorry it took so long ma. Had ta… had ta get some stuff done first. But I gotta leave again soon.” As he spoke he realized he didn’t want to be here. He’d done what he set out to do. He missed her so much, and would do so down the road, but something had come to his attention- he wanted to be good. In his mother’s mind, he was still the pure little boy who just wanted to run his own saloon. The little kid that knew nothing of surviving on the streets, nothing of going hungry or killing. He’d been a dreamer, as all kids were, still shielded from his father’s wrath. Elizabeth hadn’t wanted this for her son, and he somehow knew that if he left now she’d forget this interaction by tomorrow.
“We gotta leave soon, but I’ll be back.” He lied. He wasn’t coming back ever. She’d die here believing her son was still that perfect little boy. If that was selfish, then Benny could live with that as he had been since becoming part of the gang. He glanced at Mary and Conor again over the top of his mother’s head.
“We should leave.”
—-------------------------------------
Mary wasn’t quite sure what to do in this sort of situation. The group had left the asylum at Bennet’s insistence, now occupying the street curb like the vagrants they pretended they weren’t. Mary sat with her cane between her legs and squished between the two men. Bennet, for his part, still seemed rather shaken by the whole thing.
Not that she could blame him, were she to even want to.
They sat in silence for a little while, however uncharacteristic of them. It was rather nice, in fact. Perhaps she’d grown fonder of her subordinates than she’d realized.
For a time, at least. Finally having enough of the silence, Mary reached up and ruffled Bennet’s hair once again. “Happy birthday, dear. I sincerely hope it was a worthwhile day for you.”
Benny sniffled and nodded.
“Yea. Yea, it was great. Next year we can push that lad’s girlfriend into the Thames!” Despite everything that had transpired, the young gang member began laughing.
“And we’ll get to have a pie eatin’ contest! Maybe I can get a tattoo! I’ll have so much money next year I’ll have everythin’ in London!” He wasn’t quite sure whether his happiness was genuine. Had he become so good at faking it that it felt real, or was he really content?
“Hey!”
Speaking of happiness…
“Conor! I’ve been good all day just like I said I would! What’d ye get me?” He reached over Mary’s head and held out his hand expectantly.
It took more self control than Mary knew she had not to hit the boy for the disgrace of reaching over her head. Were it not for what had just transpired, the man would be clutching his stomach in the street. Instead, she bit her lip and pouted.
“Lemme see, lemme see!”
“Hm?” Conor snapped back to attention, flinching at the sudden appearance of Benny’s hand into his personal space. Had he trailed off again? He hadn’t been thinking of anything in particular; he’d just let his brain switch off a bit. It’d been almost nice.
“Oh, right,” he said, reaching into his jacket. He hesitated. Was this the best idea? He’d panicked when Benny and Mary had shown up, and wrapped whatever he’d had on hand.
Oh, God, this was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? But he couldn’t back out now. Benny would never let him hear the end of it.
Conor signed and handed over the parcel. The burlap wrapping had come loose at some point, revealing the polished barrel of a derringer pistol within.
“It’s not loaded,” he said, speaking each word with the gravity of a dying confession — more for Mary’s benefit than Benny’s. “But I figure you’ve been trying to steal the thing since we’ve met, and you’ve about earned it, now that yer all grown up and all.”
Conor re-wrapped the weapon and handed it over. “If you’d like,” he added in a quieter tone, “I can teach you how t’shoot.”
Benny took the bag enthusiastically, all but tearing the sack off of it.
“Yer really given’ it ta me?” He sprang up from his spot on the curb, spinning the gun around his finger by its trigger before aiming at a random point opposite him. A woman happened to be walking by, noticing the weapon accidentally aimed at her and screamed.
“Yeesh. Some people are so dramatic. IT AIN’T LOADED, LADY!” Benny watched the woman run away before turning back to Conor.
“Tomorrow then! I’ll come by yer little train car n’ we can shoot all day long, just the two of us! Also, do keep in mind that trains move. I wouldn’t stay there fer too long.” He silently debated on giving the both of them a hug before he thought better of it. No way he was going to start doing that.
“I shoulda turned older a long time ago! C’mon then, let’s get goin’!” He helped Mary stand before calling Alfie to his side, and started off towards the direction of the pub. He couldn’t wait for his nineteenth birthday!
The muggy heat seemed to swirl around him, making his thick red hair stick to his sweaty face. Still, the uncomfortable weather did nothing to dampen his mood. The pair strolled along on their way to the twin’s place. Someone had to celebrate with him, and he knew exactly where Mary would be. Helena wouldn’t want to come, and Benny was secretly okay with that. After Bruce’s ordeal, his trust in her lessened considerably.
“Mornin’,” A fat man resting along the side of the road called, breaking his concentration, “Care for an apple?” Benny glanced down to find a crate of the shiny fruit at the man’s feet. Shrugging, he picked one up and took a bite.
“Yuck! What’s this?” Benny swiped at his tongue as if it hurt and put the apple back in the crate.
“It’s a red delicious my boy! You’d, er, better take that. Can’t be sellin’ food that’s already been eaten.”
“Well I can’t be eatin’ food with a misleadin’ name now can I? I’ll have ye know it’s my birthday.” He pointed to himself matter of factly. The man gave him an odd glance and picked up the fruit Benny had grabbed.
“Take it.”
“No.”
“Boy, I don’t care what you do with the damn fruit after, alright? Take it ‘n go.” Benny shook his head and kept walking, but Alfie seemed to take an interest in the disgusting thing.
“Alfie no! You’ll get poisoned!” Grabbing the dog by his scruff, the two scurried off down the road as obscenities were yelled after them.
“Gotta teach ye the importance of what ta eat and what not ta eat.” He tisked at Alfie before turning right. The familiar sign of the pub came into view, and Benny was wise enough to put Alfie next door.
“Stay here or Helena’ll have a fit. Stay!” With that he made his way inside and down the steps to the sister's room.
“MARY! MARY COME OUT HERE!”
Mary was sitting at a table in her room with Miles; the pub was properly lifeless in the middle of the day. She was in the middle of beating the man in chess when the astringent shrieking of a child startled her and caused her to bump the table, knocking over the pieces.
“Bloody hell,” she said, abruptly standing and leaving Miles to deal with the mess. Her leg had begun to properly heal, now only walking with a slight limp and her cane. She shuffled over to the door and creaked it open to find the source of her discomfort.
The Irish urchin.
“Bennet, what in blazes are you doing outside of my room?”
“Lookin’ fer you, o’ ‘course. It’s a special day today and I’ve gotta have someone to accompany me. Nearly got poisoned on my way here, can ye believe it? Some wanker’s sellin’ some disgustin’ food. Don’t believe him when he says they’re delicious. He’s out fer twenty year olds.”
He gave Mary a cheeky grin before popping his head in to wave at Miles.
“‘Mornin!”
Mary watched Bennet push past into her room to say hi to Miles, mouth agape. “I’m sorry, Bennet, I believe I must have misheard you. The, uh, wanker is out for whom?”
“Er,” Benny glanced at her before counting slowly on his fingers, then nodded, “yep! Twenty! More n’ nineteen. Yer still twenty, yea? Or did you two get a birthday before me?” He scratched his head in frustration before plopping onto what he assumed to be Mary’s makeshift bed.
“Anyways, figured you’d like to come with Alfie n’ me fer a birthday trip!”
Mary’s eye twitched as the cursed child sat down on her belongings. If Lena were here, she’d have ripped the sod’s ear off, but Mary was doing her damndest to keep her emotions in check.
“Bennet, dear,” she began again, “I do believe you must have miscounted.” Mary smiled as gently as she could, eye twitching again. “There’s hardly an ounce of a chance that we occupy the same place upon the numerical calendar. For Christ’s sake, dearie, you’re hardly a teen.”
The youngest gang member nodded carefully, weighing the possibility of Mary being right against his own experiences.
“Alright, eighteen then. I ain’t too keen on how many birthdays I got, but I’m sure it’s today.” With this new realization in mind, he stood and took Mary’s arm.
“C’mon then! We’ve got eighteen things ta get today!” He led his boss enthusiastically out of the door, waving a hurried goodbye in Miles’s direction.
Mary winced at the boy’s touch, but her gaze softened. “You’re right, dear, eighteen sounds much more reasonable for a young, uppity lad such as yourself.” As Bennet pulled her through the door, she turned back to Miles. “Sorry, love, but I would greatly appreciate your cleaning of the mess. Cheers!”
It wasn’t until they were outside of the pub that Mary finally yanked her arm out of the boy’s hand and fixed the mostly-clean shirt he’d crumpled in his fists. “Daft it all,” she whined, pressing into her arm over and over again to smooth out the wrinkles. When she’d patted her sleeve for the 8th time and progress still hadn’t been made, she sighed and turned her gaze to the Irish child.
“Yes, well, eighteen is quite the year, Bennet. If you request my presence so meekly, I suppose I must oblige you. What are these plans in which I am accompanying your undertaking?”
Benny grinned at her before whistling over to a patiently waiting Alfie.
“C’mere boy! Come see Mary!” At his beckon the sheepdog bounded over to them, leaping to rest his paws on Mary. Benny had the mind to put a steadying hand on her back to keep from falling over- Something that happened to him quite often when Alfie got too excited.
“First order o’ business miss Nevitt! We get rid o’ that doctor.”
Mary was mortified. On its hind legs, the beast was nearly as tall as she was and was almost certainly heavier. She’d tried to sidestep the monster when it came barreling in her direction, but Bennet, blasted fool that he was, had imprisoned her. She was trapped - trapped betwixt two creatures of similar intellect, nearly being crushed in the process.
“Bennet! Release me!”
He stepped back hurriedly at her command, letting the rest of Alfie’s weight lean on her.
“So is that a yes? Don’t worry, ye don’t even have to break the bad news to the doc! I wrote up a full apology about the misunderstandin’.” Benny searched his pockets, dismayed to find them empty. Frowning, he searched carefully but with the same result.
“Well, I’ll just tell her.”
Mary fell backward as the boy moved out of her way, stumbling onto the ground with a thud. Almost instinctively, she smacked the dog on the snout. “Bloody– unhand me beast!” It whimpered and finally got off of her, but the damage had already been done.
Her white blouse had been stained brown in the shape of the mutt’s paws and her tweed pants were wet with whatever in God’s name had dampened the pavement outside of the pub.
She glared at the urchin and his beast. “A moment, dear.”
She rose from the ground, brushed herself off, and shuffled back inside the pub and to her room. Miles had finished cleaning up the chess pieces, and so Mary quickly disrobed out of her soiled garments and donned comparably fresh and unstained streetwear.
She now wore a different white blouse under a brown cotton vest - colored as such in case the beast deigned to soil her again. Over her legs, she wore cheap, grey linen pants that had been patched at the knees after a scuffle by the river a few months ago.
Quickly rushing back out the door, she resumed her ruined day with the teen.
“Yes, well, I’m finished changing out of the clothes your monster ruined,” she began, glaring at the wicked thing at Bennet’s heel. “But, what’s this nonsense about the doctor? Do you mean Michelle Blackburn?”
Benny winced at her cold disposition, reaching down to pet Alfie’s head comfortingly.
“Ye look great, Mary. Much prettier with the… Er,” He struggled to find exactly what she had changed as he glanced over her, “vest.” He had forgotten exactly who he was talking to. Although Mary was much kinder than her sister in terms of how they dealt with remorse, Mary was still a gang leader. His leader.
“Won’t happen again, swear it!” Crossing his heart with his index finger, Benny sighed and nodded at her question.
“Mhm, exactly! I’ve got all I need ta know about doctorin’. I don’t think we need her followin’ us around like a lost pup. No offense.” He glanced down at Alfie, who had taken to laying quietly at his feet after the reprimand.
“‘Sides, it’s my birthday! If she decides ta cash in her promise of sickin’ the cops on me soon I’d never forgive myself fer passin’ up this opportunity.”
“Bennet, dear, we’ve only just let the doctor into our group. We’ve no plans to cut her out so unceremoniously before she’s even done anything!” Mary rubbed at her temples with her hands. Bennet knew how to test her patience like none other she’d ever encountered. What sins had she committed to warrant such suffering? “She wouldn’t ‘sick the cops’ on you if she values her continued existence on this earth, I can promise you that much. Lena and I don’t take kindly to misconduct, as I’m sure you remember.”
Benny shuddered at the thought. He hadn’t spoken to Bruce since that night. He had desperately wanted to talk to him, but after visiting his shack only to find it empty, he’d quickly given up.
“It was worth a shot,” he shrugged, “Then how’s ‘bout we go shoppin’? I know a great place with lotsa fancy clothes! I know you’d like a new dress.” He nudged her in the arm, hoping the thought of wearing something nice would change her mood.
Mary scoffed. “Trying to butter me up is unbecoming of a newly eighteen year old, Bennet.” She began briskly walking away from the pub before turning around. “It worked, though, come along now!”
—-----------------------------------------
“Yup, this is the place!” Benny unwrapped the candy he had swiped on their way to the familiar house and popped it in his mouth.
He glanced up at the building with his hands on his hips as if deciding the best way to get in.
“Last time some crazy woman caught me takin’ her husband’s clothes, but don’t you worry. I doubt she’d be havin’ another tea party today.”
Mary smacked the boy on the back of the head when she realized the “shopping” he had promised was simply an unplanned heist for some middle aged woman’s second hand dresses. “Fucking– do you call this bloody shopping, Bennet? Shopping does not involve pilfering poorly cleaned hand-me-downs you dratted fool!”
She smacked him again and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t be able to believe this if it was anyone but you, Bennet.” She was tapping her foot nearly hard enough to crack the cement outside of the idiots’ house that Bennet wanted to rob from a second time.
“Thank you.” He knew damn well it wasn’t really a compliment, but he refused to risk getting hit a third time.
She couldn’t handle this for much longer. No matter that it was the blasted idiot’s birthday, some charity was too costly for even Mary to wager an effort at paying. Who could aleve her of this pain? Lena was away, presumably with Astrid, Brucie had moved his shack, and Mary didn’t know where anyone else in the gang resided–
“Conor!” she exclaimed aloud without realizing it. “Conor! Yes. Bennet, how would you like your birthday extravaganza to include more than just me, your best friend and most trusted advisor, but Conor as well! Your kinsman from the Emerald Isle has taken up residence in a scrap yard not too far from here. Yes! We shall pay him a visit.”
Mary grabbed Benny’s hand and quickly led him away from the home he wanted to rob. The fool.
—---------------------------------------------
Benny sulked behind Mary as she led him and Alfie along the railroad.
“Mary,” he began quietly, hesitant to say much lest it invoke her wrath, “what’s the emerald isle? And how come Conor’s gotta come from there too? I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t have chosen such a place if he knew I were there.” He enjoyed Conor’s company, but after the fight they’d had so long ago it was clear his cohort didn’t exactly feel the same.
“And why’s he gotta live in a train? Doesn’t he know these things move? And how come-”
“Bennet!” Mary snapped, turning around to face the boy. “For Christ’s sake, child, how are you alive?” She spun back on her heels and continued leading the child and his lost pet along the railway.
“The Emerald Isle,” she said, loud enough for Benny to hear without turning around, “is the colloquial term for Ireland. You two are Irishmen. From Ireland. The Emerald Isle.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Does that make sense? Are you following, dearie, or need I simplify it even more?”
Benny scoffed and crossed his arms.
“I ain’t a child.”
Mary continued to lead the way toward Conor’s train car, but they were already nearly there. Bad memories of her breaking down, losing all composure in front of Mr. Murphy, flooded in as she began treading upon the familiar ground once more. Even Lena had not seen her in that state in many nights. Were Conor to desire continued position within their gang, he’d keep her secret.
Oh, he had better keep her secret.
Mary took a deep breath. Standing outside of the car, Mary lifted her cane and banged on the door repeatedly. “Conor! Oh, Conor Murphy! I’ve come calling for you, dear Conor, for we have work to do together!” She banged the cane thrice more for good measure.
There was only a moment’s pause before the carriage door slid open a crack with a screech, the barrel of a pistol just visible through the opening. Holding it was a very bewildered Conor, his eyes wide as saucers and his hair all a mess. He’d apparently been napping.
“Crepes and apples, boss, you wanna shout louder next time?” he hissed, lowering his weapon. The man’s glare deepened when it settled on Benny. Great. He was already stressing about Mary knowing where his home was, and now he has to deal with the little gremlin having the same knowledge?
“What’s he doin’ here?” he asked Mary accusingly. “Actually, what are either o’you doin’ here?”
Conor suddenly tilted his head to the side, as if he was only now processing Mary’s words. “Wait, we got a job?”
Benny glanced at Mary, trying to convey his confusion on why she thought it such a good idea to bring him.
“Ah, come off it mate. It’s my birthday! Mary says we gotta bring you along.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed in on Conor. “Yes, Mr. Anderton has turned eighteen years old today, God save us.” She leaned slightly closer to Conor and continued. “Bennet decided that his birthday would be made more joyful by spending it with me.” She glanced back to Benny and then back to Conor. “Only me. Bennet and I, together, just the two of us, in celebration of this youth’s first foray into adulthood.”
Mary cleared her throat and settled back into the position she was in prior to pleading with her eyes to Conor. “I figured, well, we might as well make this a proper party and involve more of the gang. You were the very first name that sprung to mind, in fact,” she lied. “Why, the three of us celebrating dear Bennet’s birth - my, I could hardly come up with a million better ways to spend the day!”
She reached up into the car and pulled on Conor’s arm. “Come love, please. Please.”
Conor rolled his eyes and pulled his arm free before disappearing behind the door. He emerged a few moments later, dressed in a coat and scarf and scowl. The undertones of the situation weren’t lost on him; clearly Mary was in agony and she wanted someone to keep the little goblin off her back.
Still, if it was Benny’s birthday…
“One second,” Conor said. He dipped back into the carriage, tossing a few of his meager belongings to the ground as he rummaged through the space. After a handful of curses and more grumbling, he popped back out with a small package, wrapped sloppily in burlap.
“Ready,” he said simply, closing the door behind him and locking it.
“What’s that there?” Benny asked as they began walking back the way he and Mary had come.
“Can I see?” He peaked over the man’s shoulder curiously as Alfie ran ahead of the group. Before Conor could answer he gasped.
“Is it fer me? Did ye get me somethin’ fer my special day?”
“No,” Conor said firmly, pushing the parcel into his coat. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
He shot a dark look at Mary, as if to say, you owe me for this one.
“How old are you, anyway?” he asked. “Fifteen? Sixteen?”
Benny scoffed again, rolling his eyes as he sidled up next to his brother from the Emerald Isle, as Mary put it.
“Eighteen. Thought I was twenty, but Mary said there’s no way. Guess she would know.” He shrugged before eyeing Conor’s coat.
“I’m always good. Better n’ good! I got eighteen birthday wishes by the by, but we can’t kill the doc just yet so I gotta come up with somethin’ else now.” He thought for a moment before snapping his fingers.
“I want pie.”
“Yes, yes, pie sounds wonderful, dear,” Mary said, reaching up to scruff up the lad’s hair. “Big slice of pie for the big boy that is definitely an adult.” She leaned backward out of Bennet’s line of sight and shook her head at Conor. “Or should we say man now, eh?”
—-----------------------------------------
“For heaven’s sake, Bennet, we’ve been at this for seven hours! Are you nearly done with your birthday wishes yet?” Mary was angrily tapping her foot on the ground once again and exasperatedly pinching at the bridge of her nose.
Benny was sitting on the ground just outside the pub, Alife sprawled out over his legs. He wasn’t actually sure how many birthday wishes he’d cashed in, but none of them felt right. He’d had two people he cared about with him, gotten his favorite dessert, mocked some cops, pushed a man into the Thames, and just about everything in between. He’d laughed so hard all day he had thrown himself into a coughing fit! But now that the excitement had died down, he realized none of it really made it as special as he thought. It was just another day for him.
He’d hardly heard Mary, but her tapping foot broke him out of his thoughts.
“Just about. I…” he paused for a moment, frowning. Did he really think this was such a good idea? Would the two be up for something like this?
“It’s my birthday,” he began slowly, doing something he rarely did- think before speaking. “I’ve done just about everything I can think ta do, and if you guys don’t wanna accompany me fer my last wish I’ll understand but… I think I wanna go see my mum.”
Mary abruptly stopped tapping her foot. Oh dear. Had she heard him right? He wanted to see his mum? And he wanted Mary and Conor to accompany him?
Of all the things Mary hadn’t expected to be asked, that one was probably the highest on the list. Had she not set up walls preventing the gang from seeing her too closely? Did the gang not resent her and her harshness? What about what she had ordered them to do to dear Brucie? Had she been forgiven unjustly? Did Bennet truly value her companionship so dearly that he’d not only spend his entire birthday with her, but ask her to do something so personal?
It was all too much! This was a closeness she was not comfortable sharing with Bennet of all people. Yet…
Mary was dizzy, her entire understanding of the gang’s perception of her had been shaken, but she carefully walked over to Bennet and sat down next to him. She looked up at Conor before turning back to the boy and pinching his cheek. “I think we can manage that one, dearie.”
Conor suddenly felt very strange, cold and warm all over at the same time. He didn’t like it, and part of him wanted to turn around right then and go back to his train carriage. It was more than annoyance, or awkwardness. Benny’s words, and the thought of what Conor might be forced to confront — if what the younger lad had said concerning his father was anything to go off of — prodded him with a deeper sort of discomfort, something near pain. Or fear.
But another part of him knew doing so was as impossible for him — would be as painful as — cutting off his own arm.
Conor tipped his hat downward, shading his expression with its stout brim.
“Sure thing, Benny,” he mumbled. “We’ll be right behind you.”
—---------------------------------------------
The trio walked carefully towards the asylum, Benny in the lead. He’d tearfully left Alfie at the front gate, his best friend’s lack of comfort extremely disconcerting. The boy tried hard to hide his shaking hands. He’d not seen his mom since… oh, how long ago was it? Eleven years? She’d been taken from him ever since his father deemed it necessary to put her here to rot. Benny hadn’t had the courage to visit until now, and he began having his doubts as the front door loomed ever closer.
He refused to look back at Mary and Conor, scared that they’d see just how terrified he really was. Despite the June heat, a chill crept up his spine. He briefly thought about telling them to turn back. They could just do something simple for his last wish- perhaps drink. Yes, he’d drink as heavily as Brucie, as a tribute to him for what they’d done.
His feet refused to follow his thoughts, however. They carried him all the way to the big metal door that led into the cursed place. His mother was here? Alone?
Without a word he opened the door, his body seemingly acting separately from what he wanted. The scent of sterilized cleaner rushed up to him, reminding Benny of doc Shelley’s place. It was empty save for a single attendee at the front desk. She barely spared a glance to them as they entered, but her voice traveled to greet them.
“What can I do for you three?” Benny pursed his lips momentarily, unsure how this was supposed to work.
“Er… we’re here ta see Eliza Anderton. Elizabeth.” Finally the woman looked up, glancing between the three of them suspiciously.
“You related?”
“Yes’m. I’m her son.” It felt weird to say. He hadn’t felt like anyone’s son in so long. He’d always been his own person, running with the gang as some tagalong. Recently it felt as if the gang didn’t really want him either, and he couldn’t say he didn’t blame them. Benny wasn’t someone’s first pick, and he’d grown to understand that.
“And those two?” She stared pointedly at Conor and Mary.
Benny grit his teeth, suddenly feeling defensive.
“They’re with me.” The woman paused as if considering their authenticity, then nodded.
“Third floor, room 312.” Benny nodded but remained in place. Suddenly his chest seemed too tight, his throat closing as it did before a coughing fit. This was a mistake. She wouldn’t want to see him, not after his absence.
“I can’t…”
Mary gently reached out to Bennet, wrapping her arm around his back and resting her hand on his shoulder. This was a bad place; his mum must have suffered here. And if his reaction to this was any indication, he hadn’t visited in a long time, perhaps ever.
It made Mary realize she hadn’t visited her parents’ graves in nearly ten years. She’d resented them leaving her and Lena to fend for themselves. They had to become each others’ parents when they were hardly beyond toddling. It was a wicked thing to do to children. They were hardly worth anything as parents, as far as Mary was concerned.
But, Bennet seemed fond of his mum. She must have put in an effort, at least in her own way. The boy clearly cared enough to try and see her, even after so much time had passed. Maybe that fondness made this all the harder.
Mary squeezed Bennet’s shoulders. Perhaps she’d grown soft on him after spending an entire day with him. Perhaps she was already softer than she’d insisted. Perhaps… it didn’t ultimately matter. Bennet placed his trust in her today; she wasn’t going to betray him.
“Come on love,” she said, beginning to guide him down the hall and toward the stairs. “We’re here with you, Bennet. You’re not alone now.” She smiled at him and subtly gestured with a nod for Conor to follow them.
Conor followed wordlessly. Though they were indoors, he’d pulled his scarf closer to his face, which had taken on a bit of a pallor. This place reminded him of some of the cramped buildings his family would stay at when they were between jobs. Sure, the facilities here were in a bit better shape — there weren’t any holes in the walls for the cold wind to blow through — but they seemed lonelier, somehow.
Setting his expression into a stony neutrality, Conor kept his gaze forward, staring into the back of Benny’s head. If the kid wanted him there, he’d be there. That was just the way it was going to happen.
Conor tried to hold to that thought, to keep his mind from wandering. But it was hard not to think about his own Ma. It’d been months, at this point, since he’d received his last letter from his family. That itself wasn’t entirely unusual; it got expensive to keep sending messages across the Irish Sea. Maybe they were waiting for him to write first, or to send some money, or to tell them he’d found a place.
He’d tried — he really had. He’d just been busy lately, that was all. He’d write up a letter and visit the post first thing when he got back to the railyard, just to check in and ask after everyone. Ma and Pa would appreciate that, wouldn’t they?
Or maybe they’d decided he’d given up on them. Maybe they’d given up on him.
Conor shook his head, trying to refocus on the stairs in front of him. How long had they been walking?
Benny didn’t know himself. He was overly aware of the somber mood between them, but this time he didn’t have a witty comment to make it better. The only thing he could focus on clearly were their footsteps against the cold tiled floor and Mary’s gentle grasp. At this point he would’ve settled for the exasperated anger she’d had all day rather than the uncomfortable silence. This was not a position he’d wanted his boss and Conor to be here for. Really he hadn’t been planning on this at all when the day began, but the celebration had only brought back the memories of his mother.
She was only a few steps away now. The large black ‘312’ seemed to glare menacingly at them as they all stopped in front of the wooden door. This time Benny did spare a look to the others. He couldn’t decide what they were feeling, but suddenly his eyes began to water. They’d really done this for him. Benny Anderton, the weakest, stupidest runt, as his father would say. Was he really as alone as he originally believed?
He wouldn’t have gotten this far without them. He’d never be able to say it out loud, he knew that, but he desperately hoped they knew how much this meant.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Mum? It’s me… Bennet.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he slowly turned the knob and cracked the door open. The room was small. No windows were built to let in light, the only way to see being two lit candles resting on the walls. One bed sat against the furthest wall, a chair catty corner, and one lone figure hunched lightly on it. At the sound of the opening door, Eliza snapped her head to attention.
“Who’er you? Yer not a doctor. Who are you?” Her dark eyes darted wildly between the three of them before resting on Benny.
“Oh mum… what happened to ye?” Benny’s eyes grew wide with dismay as he scoured her over. She was so skinny. Her once shiny, curly red hair was now matted and dirty and thin. Her skin was gaunt, and her hands curled painfully over each other. One could see the beauty she’d once held behind her sagged appearance if they looked hard enough, but it was difficult to do so. What scared Benny most were her eyes. She was completely lost in her own mind- completely broken.
“Answer me! Street rats! Dirty urchins!” Elizabeth shot up from her chair and began backing away. Her voice rose in pitch, on the verge of hysterics.
“Mum! It’s me, yer son Benny? Remember?” He held his hands up to her but didn’t move.
“You are not my son! My little Bennet is only nine! NINE!” Again she shrieked at them, clearly unaware of exactly how much time had passed. Benny pursed his lips before taking a careful, deliberate step forward. One hand was still outstretched, with his other he reached into his pocket and retrieved his last hard candy. It had always been her favorite, something the two had shared in secret when his father was away, much like his birthday.
“Nah… it’s me mum. I finally came back,” Benny’s voice cracked with emotion, but he quickly cleared it and tried again. “I’ve got our favorite candy, remember? Father’s not here right now, so it’s okay ta have some.” He’d made it to her chair. Eliza had backed up to her bed, keeping the same amount of distance between them.
“My son isn’t a street rat,” she spit the words harshly, “He wanted ta be a saloon keeper.” Benny made a face at that. Even without her wits she still managed to say something embarrassing.
“Y-yea, I did mum. I, uh… plans changed.” He took another step, but became alarmed as her eyes flashed angrily over to Mary and Conor. It was like wrangling a wild animal… not that he’d ever done that.
“S’alright ma. They’re friends o’ mine. Real nice like. Well, most o’ the time.” He managed a small smirk to them before focusing on the fearful woman again. He tugged on the brim of his hat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling dizzy as a whole new wave of emotions and memories flooded over him.
“I’m doin’ alright. Got my own dog now, got… got some friends. Dad’s, uh… he’s gone. Won’t be comin’ back.” Eliza watched him as he began talking again, still inching his way towards her.
“Today’s my birthday, did ye know? Eighteen now, ma, can ye believe it?” He chuckled but was quickly cut off with a nasty cough.
“I’m doin’- doin’ fine.” He was halfway to her. He’d kept eye contact, but something finally changed. She seemed to soften.
“Yes… yes, my Bennet was sick. Mild case o’ black lung, sounded croupy, just like that.” She nodded towards him. Benny tilted his head questioningly, unsure what exactly that meant.
“A’right Mum. Whatever ye say.” Finally he was there, and she allowed the boy to take her hand. Benny drew it up to his face before pressing his lips against her cold skin.
“Bennet?” Eliza croaked, her voice dropping drastically. He merely nodded, and she finally broke down. Finally. The old woman dropped to her knees on the bed, and Benny was able to embrace her.
“Sorry it took so long ma. Had ta… had ta get some stuff done first. But I gotta leave again soon.” As he spoke he realized he didn’t want to be here. He’d done what he set out to do. He missed her so much, and would do so down the road, but something had come to his attention- he wanted to be good. In his mother’s mind, he was still the pure little boy who just wanted to run his own saloon. The little kid that knew nothing of surviving on the streets, nothing of going hungry or killing. He’d been a dreamer, as all kids were, still shielded from his father’s wrath. Elizabeth hadn’t wanted this for her son, and he somehow knew that if he left now she’d forget this interaction by tomorrow.
“We gotta leave soon, but I’ll be back.” He lied. He wasn’t coming back ever. She’d die here believing her son was still that perfect little boy. If that was selfish, then Benny could live with that as he had been since becoming part of the gang. He glanced at Mary and Conor again over the top of his mother’s head.
“We should leave.”
—-------------------------------------
Mary wasn’t quite sure what to do in this sort of situation. The group had left the asylum at Bennet’s insistence, now occupying the street curb like the vagrants they pretended they weren’t. Mary sat with her cane between her legs and squished between the two men. Bennet, for his part, still seemed rather shaken by the whole thing.
Not that she could blame him, were she to even want to.
They sat in silence for a little while, however uncharacteristic of them. It was rather nice, in fact. Perhaps she’d grown fonder of her subordinates than she’d realized.
For a time, at least. Finally having enough of the silence, Mary reached up and ruffled Bennet’s hair once again. “Happy birthday, dear. I sincerely hope it was a worthwhile day for you.”
Benny sniffled and nodded.
“Yea. Yea, it was great. Next year we can push that lad’s girlfriend into the Thames!” Despite everything that had transpired, the young gang member began laughing.
“And we’ll get to have a pie eatin’ contest! Maybe I can get a tattoo! I’ll have so much money next year I’ll have everythin’ in London!” He wasn’t quite sure whether his happiness was genuine. Had he become so good at faking it that it felt real, or was he really content?
“Hey!”
Speaking of happiness…
“Conor! I’ve been good all day just like I said I would! What’d ye get me?” He reached over Mary’s head and held out his hand expectantly.
It took more self control than Mary knew she had not to hit the boy for the disgrace of reaching over her head. Were it not for what had just transpired, the man would be clutching his stomach in the street. Instead, she bit her lip and pouted.
“Lemme see, lemme see!”
“Hm?” Conor snapped back to attention, flinching at the sudden appearance of Benny’s hand into his personal space. Had he trailed off again? He hadn’t been thinking of anything in particular; he’d just let his brain switch off a bit. It’d been almost nice.
“Oh, right,” he said, reaching into his jacket. He hesitated. Was this the best idea? He’d panicked when Benny and Mary had shown up, and wrapped whatever he’d had on hand.
Oh, God, this was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? But he couldn’t back out now. Benny would never let him hear the end of it.
Conor signed and handed over the parcel. The burlap wrapping had come loose at some point, revealing the polished barrel of a derringer pistol within.
“It’s not loaded,” he said, speaking each word with the gravity of a dying confession — more for Mary’s benefit than Benny’s. “But I figure you’ve been trying to steal the thing since we’ve met, and you’ve about earned it, now that yer all grown up and all.”
Conor re-wrapped the weapon and handed it over. “If you’d like,” he added in a quieter tone, “I can teach you how t’shoot.”
Benny took the bag enthusiastically, all but tearing the sack off of it.
“Yer really given’ it ta me?” He sprang up from his spot on the curb, spinning the gun around his finger by its trigger before aiming at a random point opposite him. A woman happened to be walking by, noticing the weapon accidentally aimed at her and screamed.
“Yeesh. Some people are so dramatic. IT AIN’T LOADED, LADY!” Benny watched the woman run away before turning back to Conor.
“Tomorrow then! I’ll come by yer little train car n’ we can shoot all day long, just the two of us! Also, do keep in mind that trains move. I wouldn’t stay there fer too long.” He silently debated on giving the both of them a hug before he thought better of it. No way he was going to start doing that.
“I shoulda turned older a long time ago! C’mon then, let’s get goin’!” He helped Mary stand before calling Alfie to his side, and started off towards the direction of the pub. He couldn’t wait for his nineteenth birthday!
