Start at the Beginning
Submitted by fairestofall on Tue, 12/29/2009 - 22:03.
Who: Janey and Maddy
Where: St Peter's Cathedral
When: Afternoon
Maddy had dried her eyes after blubbering like an idiot to a dead mother who couldn't hear her. Crying wasn't going to do anything. Maddy Keyes didn't fucking cry. She was badass. Badasses totally don't cry.
She moved from the alcove to a pew near the back of the church and had her little notebook out. She was quietly sketching the statue of Mary holding a dead Jesus in her arms. It came to life under her pencil. Mary's face contorted in anguish, Jesus looking more asleep than dead. It was a comfort, drawing. A way to get away from the world. Maybe that's why she drew. She didn't know.
Tagged:
Janey was kneeling before
Janey was kneeling before the statue of the Virgin Mary near the front of the church. Her rosary dangled from her fingers as she murmured the words almost rhythmically. Hail Mary, full of Grace... There was a fierce edge to her voice, a note of frenzied passion. But behind her closed eyelids, her thoughts were not focused on the Holy Sorrowful Mysteries that she voiced, but on her own worries and doubts.
Pray for us sinners... she whispered, barely drowning out the voice in her head that snidely told her she was the sinner. She'd been so listless lately that even her charity work had seemed unappealing, and she knew she hadn't been doing her share. She was contributing nothing to the world.
She knew she needed to try a more direct approach, because obviously appealing to the Blessed Mother wasn't making her feel any better. She got up and walked towards her favorite pew, near the rear of the church, and was surprised to see it was already occupied, by a young girl who seemed deeply engrossed in whatever she was writing. Janey took the pew a few rows ahead instead, closed her eyes, and did her best to open her heart to God.
.
Maddy had looked up when she heard the footsteps coming towards her. It wasn't obvious, just the ticking up of her eyes under her messy bangs. The woman was older and mildly familiar looking, perhaps from her time with the nuns. While to others, the woman moving might not seem anything out of the ordinary, Maddy's experience with people moving towards her was more personal and less coincidence.
The lady didn't sit next to her or anything tho. She veered and took a seat ahead of her, so there was a possibility that it was innocent.
Innocent is fucking overrated she thought bitterly and abruptly ripped the page from her notebook, crumpling the sketch up and tossed it at the statue, watching the paper bounce off and roll away off towards the woman and her pew.
To try again.
Kneeling in the pew, Janey
Kneeling in the pew, Janey began, as she always did, with her prayer intentions for others. Thanking God for keeping Danny, Jackson, and the rest of the police force safe, and for the capture of the killer. She prayed for the repose of the souls who had been lost, and—
Just as she was beginning to feel calmer and soothed through the prayers, a faint rustling nearby disrupted her concentration. She looked up, and saw a crumpled paper resting against the outside of her pew. When she turned over her shoulder, she saw that the girl was still sitting behind her. Janey sat up and shifted a bit to the left so that she could study the girl a bit more discreetly, without completely turning around. She fingered her rosary beads again, and looked at the girl. The girl’s downcast eyes were shadowed by her messy bangs but also by faint traces of tears and exhaustion. She looked vaguely familiar, but Janey couldn’t pinpoint why. She knew she’d never seen her around the church before, and wondered where else she might have recognized her from.
You’re staring. In church, her conscience accused. Janey took a deep breath and returned to her kneeling position, to sink back into prayer. But as she did so, she grabbed the paper from the ground and slipped it into her coat pocket.
"Fuck," Maddy muttered,
"Fuck," Maddy muttered, accidentally smearing cheap pencil over the paper. One of the drawbacks of wearing gloves while drawing, but she was in public. Her eyes widened immediately when she realized what she just said. In a church. Oh no. Was that going to invalidate her prayers? While Maddy wasn't entirely sure if she believed in a higher power, she wasn't playing this time. She really needed some divine help. "Um... sorry," she whispered, looking at the statue of Mary and Jesus. "Please don't be pissed -- um, please don't be mad at me."
-
Janey continued her prayers, feeling the throbbing of her heart as she prayed for the children she'd lost. She wasn't good at judging ages, but her first baby would've been about the age of the girl behind her, had she made it into the world. As she prayed, Janey realized her fist was still clenched around the paper in her pocket. She pulled it out slowly and opened it up, the lead rubbing on her palms as she smoothed it out between them. It was a sketch of the statue beside her, of the Holy Mother sobbing over Jesus' body. It was one of Janey's favorite scenes from the Bible because of the powerful connection she felt to the mother mourning her child. And the girl's depiction of the scene wasn't bad. Although Jesus' expression was a little different, Janey almost liked the girl's drawing better. Instead of looking distressed, he looked at peace, almost as if he had arranged his face just so to comfort his grieving mother. Janey swallowed around the ache in her throat.
She heard the girl behind her murmuring, and wondered if she was praying, what she was praying for. She glanced back at her again, and with sudden resolve, Janey stood and left her pew. She walked back and slid into the pew the girl was seated in, on the opposite end from the girl. She didn't know what she was doing, so she folded the drawing and pocketed it again, then fell to her knees in prayer once more.
.
Maddy watched the woman sit down the pew from her. She carefully shifted in her won seat, turning so she was leaning against the side of the pew so she could keep a better eye on the woman. She looked old. Not, like, old old, but old like a mother. Her face was pale and she had little lines at the corners of her eyes. A face that, if she smiled, she'd look a lot happier.
It was like her fingers had a mind of their own. Slowly, the image of this woman came onto paper. An image of this woman smiling and looking happy. Worry lines turning into laugh lines, face broad and bright with the smile. The kind of person this woman maybe hadn't been in a really long time.
Her mom used to smile a lot. The memory struck her suddenly. Maddy was only four when her mother died. She didn't have any actual memories of the woman. No memories of baking or doing things mothers and daughters might do, but she remembered her mother's smile. And Jack had always told her that their mother smiled a lot. A smile that, if Maddy thought hard enough, looked like the smile on the paper.
-
As Janey prayed, she could feel the girl’s eyes on her, but she tried to ignore it. She murmured a quick apology to God for her prayers being so distracted and interrupted that day. When she’d finished, she sat back in the pew and drew the paper from her pocket again. It stirred her heart just as strongly as it had the first time, and she closed her eyes to keep her composure. When she opened them again, she glanced at the girl. There was a certain fragility to her features that Janey couldn’t keep from noticing, something that made her want to reach out to this girl and wrap her arms around her to keep her safe. Closer now, she could see the tear tracks down her face. What teenage girl sits in the church and cries? Janey wondered. And the answer immediately came to mind—a desperate one. This girl clearly needed help, needed something. And Janey ached to help, as she always did. She slid down the pew, closer to the girl, and held out the drawing across the space between them. “Did you draw this?” she whispered.
*
When the lady moved closer, Maddy froze. Every muscle in her body tensed. But Maddy didn't bolt. This was just some woman who came here to pray. Maddy looked down at the drawing. She was unable to pick up what the woman asked fully, and Maddy shrugged, drawing her own conclusions. "I was bored." She shifted, pushing her hair behind her ears so she could hear better if the woman said something else.
Up close, Maddy could see the shadows under her eyes, how dark her eyes were to begin with and she looked down at the paper. The eyes weren't as heavily shadowed but she shaded the irises darker to match. It was a little smear-y, the pencil no longer sharp after breaking. Carefully, Maddy tore the paper from her notebook and held it out. "You can have this one too if you want." If this lady tried grab her, she'd run. Not many ladies did, but you never knew. Always had to be on your guard.
-
Janey was surprised when the girl offered her a second sketch. "Well, it's beautiful," she said, indicating the first drawing. No need to try and explain how much it had moved her. She took the second drawing, and studied it, her eyes following its shading and contours. It was an up-close portrait of a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Those eyes--Janey gave a small gasp.
How could she not have recognized herself? Aside from the fact that she avoided mirrors, avoided spending even a single moment too long looking into her own eyes, there was something in the face on the page that Janey hadn't seen in her own for years. She looked younger, yes, but she looked...happier.
The girl seemed nervous, fidgety. Janey looked up and tried to catch her gaze, to calm her down. "This is fascinating...thank you. Have we met before?"
-
"Don't think so." Maddy was pretty positive they hadn't, but then, she met a lot of old ladies when she was living at the orphanage. While having her drawings complimented was always nice, with this lady, it seemed like too much. If they were anywhere else but a church, Maddy would've said something along the lines of "It's just a goddamn picture" but this was church and Maddy was already pretty sure her prayers were on the line to being granted or... whatever happened with prayers. She met her gaze a little hesitantly, really not sure what was going on.
.
Janey gave herself a shake mentally, realizing she was staring and probably freaking out the poor girl who’d just wanted a quiet spot to cry. “You just looked familiar. Are you around here often?” Janey tried to keep her tone light, pure curiosity, nothing more. She wasn’t sure what possessed her to ask. She knew the girl wasn’t around much because Janey definitely would’ve noticed her before. And she wasn’t sure, really, why she’d come over here at all. But something about the situation compelled her—she couldn’t just let it go.
.
"No, I don't usually come here." Maddy was doing her best to be polite. There were no hair ribbons or bows in sight and Maddy allowed herself to relax. Just a little, at least. Just a curious lady who looked sad. "Is there something I can help you with?" She smiled a little bit. Maybe if she made it more obvious that she wasn't nervous or anything, this lady would chill out and get to the point. "I did when I was little though," she offered. This was weird. Maddy totally didn't like weird.
-
“No,” Janey said, “I just saw you sitting alone, and you looked a bit upset. Are you alright?” Janey finally said. She found it strange that the girl had drawn a sketch of her and given it to her so nonchalantly, and then acted as though Janey was being weird for wanting to talk to her.
*
"I'm fine. Uh, thanks for asking." Had this lady been watching her for longer than she'd been sitting? Did she see the embarrassing crying earlier? That wouldn't be good. That so wouldn't be good. No on saw Maddy cry. That was not good. Still, this woman seemed genuinely concerned and it was church and God was watching. "I uh, just got really into praying earlier." That seemed like something this lady would appreciate, especially with the rosary wrapped around her hand. "Are you okay? You look upset too." Not only did it sound like Maddy cared and was a polite individual, but it also took the topic from her and put it on someone else. This lady said she thought Maddy looked familiar. If she could get more information, maybe Maddy would know.
--
Janey was surprised not only by the fact that the girl seemed to have noticed she was upset, but by the fact that she cared to ask. She wasn’t sure how to answer. “Oh, I…I’m alright, really…”. She looked at the girl for a long moment, hesitating. “I’m at the church often, so I’m sure I’ll see you again. If you ever need anything…” she said, then trailed off, uncertain of what she wanted to say. “I mean, if you just wanted someone to talk to…God, of course, will listen, but sometimes, you know, it’s good to say things to another actual person…” she continued. Janey could feel herself blushing; she was rambling. She stopped talking and twisted the rosary in her hands, staring at it intensely, waiting to see how the girl would react.
*
Maddy's eyes moved from this woman to the giant statue of a dying Jesus on his cross at the front of the church. Large, imposing. She looked at the statues on the wall coming from both sides of him. Mary, of course, some of the apostles. Her eyes moved up to the beautiful mosaic on the ceiling, the Heavens. The angles and the old man who looked more like Santa Clause but was supposed to represent God.
"I was... praying to my mom to help find my brother," Maddy told her after awhile. "He seems to have gotten himself lost." If this lady was conning her, she was doing a damn good job of it because Maddy actually felt more sad or sorry for her than scared. Perhaps it was because she was immediately greeted with 'Oh, you're so adorable let me eat you up with ranch dressing!'
No. This woman was fairly chill. Maddy disliked adults to begin with but there were a couple out there in the world that could be immune to whatever it was about herself that made people freak the fuck out and chase her down.
-
Janey was genuinely surprised for the girl to answer so honestly, and the response took her a moment to process. She’d said “praying to my mom”, and somehow Janey knew she didn’t mean to the Holy Mother. Janey felt strange impulses to hug her and comfort her stirring up.
“Is your mother dead?” she asked. She knew it sounded rather blunt, but Janey had always hated phrases like “passed away”, and saying something like “Is she with the Lord?” sounded far too churchy even for her tastes.
*
Maddy shrugged. "Yeah, My parents died when I was little." She wasn't really bothered by it. Did she miss having parents... perhaps, but such was life. And this woman looked pretty sad about it. "I really don't remember them," she tried to assure. "I was really little, but I think it's more personal to pray to someone you know than it is to... God." Was that blasphemous?
-
"It certainly can be," Janey said.
Though she'd never told anyone, Janey often--more often than she'd like to admit--found herself praying to the children she'd lost. She didn't believe that because they'd never been born they didn't have souls. She knew they had, and although she hadn't "known" them, she felt such an intimate connection to them that she liked to believe they could intervene on her behalf.
"So, who do you live with? Do they know your brother is missing?"
*
Oh good. Uncomfortable questions. Maddy shifted in her seat ever so slightly. "Oh, I live nearby," she stated, somewhat evasively. She thought of Dodge and the tunnels, feeling guilt in her gut again. "They know. They keep their eyes out for him."
Because what was she going to say? That she lived above the Hill Street Theater after running away from the orphanage because things just weren't progressing the way she wanted them to.
--
Sensing the girl's discomfort set off a memory in Janey, and suddenly she realized maybe she did recognize the girl! Another time, another little girl--far younger then--squirming in her seat as Janey and Danny sat side-by-side, asking her simple questions about herself. An older woman, clad in dark, drab clothing, stood behind the little girl, a tight smile stretched across her face.
"Oh! You live with the nuns, don't you?" Janey said, voicing her sudden epiphany. "We met when you were a little girl, and my husband and I..." Janey said, then paused. "Well, we met you at the orphanage."
*
Maddy felt her eyes start to widen but caught herself and shook her head, quick and decisive. "No, I think you have the wrong girl," she said with a forgiving smile. She'd been visited by so many families, each interview awkward. Half of her wanted to be adopted. To be taken away from him but that would have meant it would've been harder to find Jack and for Jack to find her. If she thought hard enough, she thought she might remember this woman. Not her husband (Had he been the doctor? The police officer?) but she remembered Sister Caroline say that they had recently lost a baby and to be nice. But it could be someone else.
Still, if Maddy was recognized, she'd have to find a way to get out of this.
-
Janey didn't believe her, not for a second. There was something about how swift and sure her answer was that just didn't sit right. But she decided not to push it. "Oh, well...alright. Sorry then."
Maybe she'd ask Danny later if he remembered the girl, knew what had become of her. Not that it really mattered. What mattered was this girl, now, and whether she needed help. Something in Janey still inherently felt that she did.
She glanced down at the sketch again, Mary weeping for Jesus, and felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach. She slipped the drawings into purse, and the rosary as well, as she stood up. "I've got to get home," she said, pulling on her gloves. "I'm Janey, by the way. Maybe I'll see you here again, or around town?"
*
Doll Girl or Maddy being said at the orphanage would send them on her trail, but Maddy's name would do it faster. "Maybe," she said. "I kind of, float around." That was a bit of an understatement.
"They just call me DG," she added, as Janey had told her her name and it seemed like the polite thing to do. DG was a bit new and Maddy really wasn't positive this woman actually believed she made a mistake with identifying her. She'd have to give Dodge a head's up if anyone started looking for her that met this woman's description.
Uhg. Dodge. Stupid boy.
--
DG? That threw Janey off a bit. She could've sworn the girl's name, if it were her, had been Megan, Martha...something with a M. But she shrugged it off. There was too much she didn't know about the girl yet to be trying to figure everything out in one day. Give it time, she reminded herself.
"Take care," she said, catching the girl's gaze for a second, hoping to impress upon her how seriously she meant those words. "And don't forget what I said--you can probably find me here if you ever need anything."
*
"Sure," Maddy nodded, having no intention of coming to look for any help but instead to stay as far away as possible. She was not getting thrown back in the orphanage where he was and where the nuns would be sure to make sure she couldn't leave them again. But the sentiment was nice but Maddy didn't need it. Maddy didn't need anyone.
"Have a nice day, ma'am."
-
"You too," Janey said. As she walked out of the church, she felt compelled--she stopped in the doorway and took a long look back at the girl. Seated alone beneath the soaring cathedral ceilings and surrounded by the imposing sculptures of the saints, she looked utterly vulnerable. Janey crossed herself with a quick whispered prayer for the girl's protection before heading out into the cold.