t was a sunny afternoon in Wayesbridge; the birds flew tree to tree,
people rushed down the street, children played, and everywhere you
looked, there was a sign advertising a brand new product or opposing
abortion. Living in a bustling city such as this, sight-seeing was a
favorite pastime of many.
But among those many, sitting on a stoop out in front of Clarkson
Apartments, was a small girl, no more than six. She could hear the
birds, people, and cars, but could only long to see them. For she,
Raina Zinnia Stark, since birth, was blind.
She'd lived here with her aunt since her parents' murder, and had
exercised her sences to be stronger every day. By now, she could walk
down her street and turn the corner to go to a burger and ice cream
parlor.
She could also tell the time with firmiliar sounds, such as now when
she heard the 1:30 bus. This indicated that it was time for her to
return inside for her late lunch.
Lunch always came an hour late due to Aunt Kenya's work hours, but
Raine didn't mind. Getting lunch was her favorite time of the day.
Aunt Kenya gave her ten dollars and her walking cane, and she'd set
off down the road to get burgers and fries for the two of them. She'd
hear new things every time, things she couldn't hear from her stoop.
As she climbed the stairs to her small apartment, she began to wonder
what she would hear today.
She counted the steps to reach the third floor, then counted seven
doors by touching the walls. She found her aunt's apartment,
unwillingly taking in the cat odor from the other side of the door.
Knocking, she waited for her beloved relative to allow her in.
The feline aroma suddenly became overwhelming, giving a hint that her
aunt had answered the door.
Raine stood before her aunt Kenya, accepting her daily given hug
warmly, and listened to Kenya's sweet voice croon, "Jus' wait 'ere a
secon', Rainie, an' I'll get yur cane an' money." As her aunt walked
to another room, Raine set herself down against a wall, clicking her
tongue to call one of their many cats.
Something's wrong, Raine thought to herself, noticing none of them
came. They loved her gentle petting sessions, and they normally
greeted her on their own. She also noticed how empty the room felt.
When she heard Aunt Kenya returning, she immediately asked, "Auntie
Ken, where's the kitties and the furniture?"
Her aunt was all-too-quick to answer, "I fig'red we'd clean th' rugs
while the cats're gettin' a check-up an' gettin' groomed. Now ya'll go
get lunch, an' don't dawdle, so we can go pick up th' kitties an' I
can get back ta w'rk."
She put the wad of ones in Raine's pocket for her, and gave the child
her walking stick. Aunt Kenya walked her to the apartment stoop, but
let Raine go alone down the sidewalk to Mr. Foley's.
She easily found her way into the shoppe, and laid the money on the
counter. "My usual, Mister." She said in her cutest voice possible.
Not only did she sound cute, but she made a point to put her hazelnut
hair into two braids, tied off with ribbons that matched her outfit.
Mr. Foley smiled behind the counter, writing down the order and
slipping to the cook. Then he counted out the change and sat with his
favorite custumor, seeing as bisness was slow.
"How is it ya can stand ta live with that ol' bat of an aunt? Sha
sends ya down here alone, every day, and makes ya run arrands for her.
That ain't responsible."
"My Auntie is really nice, and I don't know why people say she's
mean, cause she's not. She loves me, she said so herself! I help her
so I can learn to do stuff, so I can get a job when I'm grown up."
The cook rang a bell to say the food was ready, Mr. Foley handed her
the bag, and lead her out.
