A little chimney sweep

A little chimney sweep

by

Fleur De'La Fay

"Please" Crys Willian Bottle, "I can clean chimneys sir." The man angry at the small boy with a dirty nose for disrupting whatever important thing a man of such statute should be doing (he couldn't exactly remember just what he was doing walking down Royal street, it was a crumbling district where orphaned chimney sweeps and little matchstick girl sold their wares. The man felt he was stopped to be doing something important. In this desperate and barren community)
"Sir" William shivering in his thread barren vest and grimy trousers coughed. "I'm a very good boy and will clean them spicnspan for a pence.
The man who was lost in his self important thought was dragged out of the vain coma of thought as he sized up the small boy. He looked no bigger than eight and probably had no parents. Just then Mr. Stelouise was struck by a odd thought, maybe the boy was why he was here in this god forsaken place. Maybe this child could do more than clean the chimney. Maybe the boy was the answer to his trouble......
You see the mans wife had be ill ever since their baby had died. And now looking down on the grubby urchin whose wide brown eyes were starved. Hungry for love. The mans thoughts then flew to his nabiours and what Mrs. Macaldy craning her serpent like neck too spy threw her heavy white satin curtains would say. When his son had died Mr. Stelouise had devoted himself to his work. After making the right impressions he had rose quickly in his banking firm. But he lived a hollow life. His wife sensitive to the empty hole inside his heart had felt it was her fault for the baby's miscarriage. She took ill as soon as she realized just how loveless their life was. The blue nursery and hand made cradle made by the Mr. himself now held dust. The box brimming with toys was a empty reminder of what could have been. The running footsteps of children that had promised the happy couple a world where phantoms of longing.
William now tried of standing in the cold trying to convince the sad looking man that burning a fire in a unclean chimney was dangerous was turning to walk away. The hunger pangs growing and slowly gnawing at the in sides of his stomach were starting to make feel dizzy. A frosty wind picked up and clawed at the tattered rags that the William Bottle wore.
The small boy fell to the earth like a soft white snowflake gentle in its descent. Mr Stelouise reached out and caught the small figure, his mind made up.
The wind now picking up clawed and riped at Mr. Stelouise's suit. Clutching the small boy in his arms he hurried as the dreary London sky changed from a lifeless gray to the pearly clouds that surrounded heaven its self. The boys body was rigid and freezing by the time Mr. Stelouise was speeding up his drive. Mrs. Machaldy and her ever craning neck greeted him at the front door. Fumbling madly with the keys Mr. Stelouise burst into him house and placed the boy by the fire side calling their maid Marie to come and tend the fire while he made tea for the poor little urchin. Marie can as soon as Mr. Stelouise opened his mouth. Marie's hair was elegantly piled on top of her head and the charcoal black dress and snow white apron she wore were in place as usual but today something was aims. It wasn't until the boy "William Bottle" (as he called himself) was awake and warm the Mr. Stelouise figured it out. Marie's smile was the missing piece. Immediately Mr. Stelouise called the young maid into the kitchen and asked,
"Marie is Ellen that bad?"
Marie nodded and looked somber. "The doctor" A tear rolled down her face "He said 'er eart et is..." Marie searched for the word in the language that Mr. Stelouise would know best.
"Broken"
Her words barley a whisper echo in the clean kitchen and inside his head. Maybe the boy, this fascinating little creature has come to late? Pushing all thoughts away he asked Marie to bath the boy and bring him to see Ellen. By the time that Marie had discovered the best way to bath a urchin is not to tell them them the ear wax monster is clogging addling their brains and just simply to pick them up kicking and screaming into the tepid water, Mr. Stelouise was sitting quietly with Ellen. Or rather the husk of Ellen. The empty shell left over from years of regret and yearning sat hair combed and shining in front of Mr. Stelouise. Sighing he sat lightly on the edge of her bed and stroked her head. A flicker of a smile flirted across her barren face but disappeared into the hollow creases of worry engraved in her eyes. They sat, a once happy couple now destroyed by the birth of their son who died in the hospital. A uncomfortable silence set in only to be interrupted by the gentle rap on the camber door. Marie entered with the clean William in tow, having finished her task she faded into the kitchen where she put on a pot of tea. She was no fool and could see that tea would be needed.
For a minuet Ellen gazed at the small boy until feeling uncomfortable in the home of the wealthy he stuttered. "I-I-I"m Sorrrry Ma'am I was just wanted to clean the chimney for a bita to eat but I guess I..." "William" Ellen cried out as if not hearing the chimney sweeps speak. In her sickly stat it took all she had to thrown off the covers and stagger over to were the trembling child stood. Protesting he shrank at her embrace. "Oh Gregor how ever did you find him!" Ellen weeping tears of joy asked. The fire in her eyes rekindled after the one encounter.
Mr. Stelouise caught off guard by his own name (having not heard it in so long) was certain his wife had finally lost it. But the wild hunger seemed to have deserted the boy as he clung to Ellen and she hugged him fiercely back. "Mother!"
Gregor bewildered started at the child who he had thought could sweep the chimneys and fill his wife's longing for a child if only for a day. It seemed incomprehensible that he could be his son.

"Gregor" Ellen calls from the hall.
"Yes dear?" Irritated at being woken from a startling dream fumbles to check to clock. "Ellen what is it?!" Stepping out into the hall he saw the situation immediately. Ellen, his life, his love is going to have their baby. As they head to the hospital Gregor is struck by a odd image. The terribly sad eyes of a boy a wife and his life in the business life. Slamming on the break he smiles. Nothing matters now not even his job because his baby son is going to be born. A smile creeps across his face as he and Ellen race threw the narrow London streets in their little car. A little car, a little house a little family but a big love.