(Chapter One is here).
But Jacob had not always been fat; oh, no. In fact he was born a scrawny little thing, all arms and legs and skin and bones. Though they had no sophisticated measures of such things back then, it seemed to Jacob's mother that he came into the world a month or so early, blue at first, then wailing feebly, sounding for all the world like a forlorn kitten.
Ah, and Jacob's mother, what of her? Her name was Anna, though her family name has been lost to the ravages of the past. She was a woman of the night, to be gentle in our terms, for we shall see that Anna is deserving of our gentleness. Hers was a story not so uncommon for her time: her mother died giving birth to her and Anna was the only child she ever bore all the way into life. Anna's father was a kind and good man and some years older than her mother. Though he was honest and sober and worked ever so hard when there was work to be had, he was hard-pressed to keep the two of them out of direst poverty. He gave to Anna as she grew a far greater portion of their food than he allowed himself; this kind practice weakened him, so when the influenza swept through the town this, combined with his advanced age and the ills attendant on being so very poor conspired to take him away into the arms of Death. Anna was 15 years old.
This was a time before there was any protection for the poor, before we became wiser and realized our obligation to those less fortunate (if such wisdom we have). Anna tried making a living in any way she could. She sold flowers on the street for a time, but the man who supplied her, sensing her naïveté, gave her the worst blossoms but charged her the same and was angry when she failed to sell them. She tried begging and was so delicate that she collected a fair amount but was cheated and robbed by others making their way on the streets. One day, she barely escaped being raped. As she was being shoved against a wall by a muscular, drunken man, too frightened to do much more than whimper, she suddenly felt the man slacken. He fell to the ground unconscious. Where the drunk man had been she saw a wiry, dark fellow with a cudgel in his hand.
"He won't bother you any more, miss".But Jacob had not always been fat; oh, no. In fact he was born a scrawny little thing, all arms and legs and skin and bones. Though they had no sophisticated measures of such things back then, it seemed to Jacob's mother that he came into the world a month or so early, blue at first, then wailing feebly, sounding for all the world like a forlorn kitten.
Ah, and Jacob's mother, what of her? Her name was Anna, though her family name has been lost to the ravages of the past. She was a woman of the night, to be gentle in our terms, for we shall see that Anna is deserving of our gentleness. Hers was a story not so uncommon for her time: her mother died giving birth to her and Anna was the only child she ever bore all the way into life. Anna's father was a kind and good man and some years older than her mother. Though he was honest and sober and worked ever so hard when there was work to be had, he was hard-pressed to keep the two of them out of direst poverty. He gave to Anna as she grew a far greater portion of their food than he allowed himself; this kind practice weakened him, so when the influenza swept through the town this, combined with his advanced age and the ills attendant on being so very poor conspired to take him away into the arms of Death. Anna was 15 years old.
"Is he...dead?" stammered Anna.
The man appeared unconcerned. "Mmm. I don't believe so. I sincerely doubt anyone would miss him if he were, though." He kicked the inert form. "You could give him a good swift one if you like. He certainly deserves it."
Anna could only shake her head no. After a moment she said, "Thank you. I don't know what would have happened..."
"Oh, I have a pretty good idea." Anna blushed and the man grinned. "Name's Max."
"Thank you, Max," she fairly whispered, "thank you again".
Max tipped his hat. Then, as if it had just occurred to him, "Say, I was just headed off to dinner myself. Would you care to join me?"
"No, I...I couldn't, I...".
"Come now," he said, taking her arm, "you look as if you haven't had a square meal in a month of Sundays. A beautiful woman like you. Come. I will take care of you." And thus began Anna's new life.
(Chapter Three is here).
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