Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles)

Marie was happy. Only fifteen years old and she had been able to snatch one of the best jobs on the market. For being a fathered woman, she had done well. She had kissed her girlfriend good-bye. The moment had been uncomfortable for Marie, but judging from the amount of tears Idra had shed, it had been downright painful for her. Now, she was finally alone in her dorm—everybody was out to work at the farm. She looked around at the big room she had shared with thirty girls since her birth. It was a strange feeling to be finally leaving the Institute.

“I can’t get away from here fast enough.” She had said that so many times the other girls had started repeating the words to her as a joke. “I
really
can’t get away from here soon enough.” She walked to the end of the room and looked at herself in the long mirror precariously hanging on the wall. A pale, blond, big blue-eyed, freckled-skinned girl looked back at her. “Why so gloomy?” She went back to her bunk bed and jumped on, her shoeless feet dangling toward Idra’s bed. Idra hated when she did that.
“Move those dirty feet away from my face.”
Marie did that on purpose. She liked when Idra got all mad at her, her dark eyes staring up, her mouth pouting. It was worth the trouble because Idra couldn’t stay mad long. Her laugh was what had attracted Marie to her. Now, someone else was going to sleep over Idra’s bed.
But
this is what I want, a chance to better my life.

“Ready?” Madame Carla entered the room in that way of hers—without making a sound to announce her presence. More than once, Marie and Idra had been caught where they weren’t supposed to be and paid for it. But Madame Carla wasn’t a bad rector; she cared for her girls.
“You’re my kids,”
she used to say anytime she had to dole out punishments, and inevitably, the guilty party felt even guiltier to have disappointed her so.

“I am.” Marie looked at the satchel on her bed. All of her possessions had fit inside that small bag. She pulled the strings, tied them in a loose knot, and slung the satchel across her back.

“We’re so proud of you.” Madame Carla looked at her, eyes liquid already. One hand reached out to caress Marie’s face in a maternal gesture.

“Thank you, Madame.” She curtsied and lowered her head.

“It saddens me to lose you, but you must know how happy I am for you. Your accomplishment means a lot to this institution.”

“Thank you, Madame,” she repeated as she posed down in her curtsy and bow.

“Oh, dear child, enough of these formalities!” Madame Carla surprised Marie by hugging her in a fierce embrace.

Marie stood there, frozen, not sure of what to do.

“I can’t believe you’re an adult already.” Madame Carla sniffed and released Marie. She then turned her back to her to clean her tears. “Well, it seems you’ve packed everything.”

Marie smiled. It had taken less than five minutes to gather all her belongings and stuff them inside the satchel now lying almost weightlessly on her back.

“The bus has just arrived and they’re in a hurry.”

She followed Madame Carla outside of the dorm. The moment the crimson door slammed behind her, a feeling akin to panic possessed Marie. “I haven’t said good-bye to the room.” She looked at the rector, who nodded. She ran back inside, went to her ex-bunk bed, rummaged inside the satchel, and found what she was looking for, a hair barrette she had carved out of a piece of soft wood. She laid it on Idra’s pillow, blew a kiss on it, and finally left.

On the bus, Marie walked toward the end and chose a free seat in the last row. She sat facing the window, her back to the two women talking to each other in the row next to hers. Her eyes snapped to something shiny protruding from her satchel. She hadn’t noticed it back at the dorm. The room was always dark, only two windows to let the light in. It was the reason why they had moved the mirror from its original place and haphazardly hung it next to one of the windows.

“What is it?” She knew what it was the moment the small circle of glass beads came into view, and her eyes filled with unshed tears.
Idra…
A safety pin secured the bracelet to one of the satchel’s strings. A small, red heart made of transparent glass dangled from the center of the bracelet. Two charms hung from it, an
I
and an
M
. Idra had written
Forever Together
on a round opal and Marie had helped her to attach it along with the rest of the charms. The bracelet produced a pleasant sound with every movement Idra made. Marie liked how she could hear Idra coming from far away. Now she would no more. She raised her wrist and let the bracelet sing for her. It wasn’t the same. Sadness became a tangible pain, a sharp poke between her ribs just under her heart. She finally curled in a ball and sobbed. Thankfully, the two women didn’t ask if she was okay.

Seven hours later, the cityscape of Samara loomed into view, and after another hour, the bus stopped before a big, old-looking building. She stared at the red bricks, slanted roof made of a dark metal rusted green in several places, and large, jutting windows. A sign read, “Redfarm,” and a bell dangled at the end of a rope by a dark-red, wooden door. The bus had traveled all the way from Trin and the Maritime region to the inland in the very heart of the Mountainous region, but Marie had hardly seen anything beyond the glass she was staring at. She looked at her new home and immediately felt she didn’t belong. She couldn’t belong.

“Are you the new help?” A redhead waved at her from the entrance stairs.

She hadn’t seen anybody coming out of the door. “Yes, I’m Marie from Madame—”

“You can tell me the whole story later, but hurry up now. You’re late. Chef got sick and the staff needs help right away.” The girl held the door for her and Marie followed inside, wondering if she had rushed through things and gotten everything wrong in the process.

Welcome to Samara
, Marie thought, hurrying after the nameless woman whose majestic red mane undulated with every step she took. They went deep inside the building without leaving the same floor. They walked the whole length of a hallway that stretched forever. Sober décor and pale colors dominated the place. Marie had time to think, and her previous doubts became a certainty when, after five minutes of complete silence, the woman led her through an arch and inside a humongous kitchen.
What am I doing here?
She wanted to ask, but she was pushed past the threshold without as much as a please. The place was lit by four windows that took the whole back wall. A dozen women scurried about, the silence extending to the kitchen as well. Marie was unnerved by the lack of human interaction. She saw a thin woman walk toward her with a purposeful stride, only to stop a few feet away.

“Finally!” The thin woman, holding herself straight, her glasses pinched to the arch of her small nose by a long slim finger, gave her a judging look. “How old are you?” She turned toward the woman who had just brought Marie there. “How old is she?”

Marie felt she hadn’t passed the test. “I’m fifteen years old, ma’am.”

“You don’t look fifteen. You look twelve.” The thin woman straightened her back and looked down at Marie. “We’ll make do for now.” She went to a linen cabinet, took out an apron, and double-checked the size by opening it before Marie, then shook her head. She repeated the action twice and finally gave Marie an apron.

It’s just an apron.
Marie managed to keep her mouth shut and thank the thin woman without commenting.

“Carnia, you can leave.” The thin woman dismissed the other. “Now, you’ll start peeling potatoes—”

“Peeling potatoes? No, there must be some confusion… I’m Marie and I come from the Institute. Madame Carla talked to Redfarm’s rector and she said I was going to start as an apprentice at the infirmary.”

“I know what I told Carla.” The thin woman pointed at the corner where a pile of potatoes lay on the floor by what looked like an ancient cauldron from some twisted fairytale.

Marie raised her eyes to meet Madame Lana, a person she had thought would be completely different and way more pleasant. “Madame Lana.” She curtsied low. “I thought—”

“You thought what? That I would put you to work in the infirmary without a minimum of training? Is that what you thought?”

“No, of course not. I thought I was going to be trained in the infirmary.”

“You must prove to be infirmary material, and then maybe I’ll send you there. I can’t believe my ears. The silliness coming out from your mouth. From now on, remember to talk only if asked to. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Madame Lana.”

“Now go and peel that pile.” The rector left the room, talking to herself. “We’ve important guests tonight. And Chef got sick! Of all days, Chef decided to get sick today. Can you believe my bad luck?”

If I were Chef, I‘d have gotten sick myself.
Marie looked at the corner Madame Lana was pointing at, the huge cauldron still there with the pile of potatoes, and dragged her feet toward it. The shock was such she couldn’t cry. Not before Madame Lana, who was looking at her, waiting for her to break. Not before the dozen people who were busying themselves while listening to the conversation. She tied the apron, doubling the string on the front, sat on the three-legged stool, and began peeling potatoes. She was still wearing Idra’s bracelet and every time she flicked away a peel, the charms hit each other and sang for her. She was sure Madame Carla didn’t know about her new arrangement. Madame Carla would have never tricked one of her kids to accept a job under false pretenses. Two hours passed and she was still peeling potatoes. And so was she two hours later. Her hands were covered in blisters, her back was killing her, her butt had lost sensitivity along with her legs, but Marie didn’t say a thing.

“I think that’s enough potatoes for tonight,” a girl, probably two or three years older than her, said. She had walked quietly and Marie hadn’t heard her approaching. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Don’t worry. I was lost in thought.” Marie saw the girl smiling at her, and she relaxed her shoulders.

“Yes, I can see how peeling vegetables can lead to hard thinking.” The girl laughed, a genuine laugh, not something artificial. “I’m Verena, your roommate.”

Verena was tall and curvy with long, brown hair left unbraided, big brown eyes, and tan skin. Madame Carla had mentioned a roommate. “Oh, you’re Verena. I’m Marie. Nice meeting you.” Marie reached out to shake hands with her, but her fingers refused to open from the curled position they had assumed. She bumped knuckles instead.

“Come, your turn was done an hour ago.”

“But nobody told me—” Marie looked at the potato peelings lying by the cauldron, worried she would get in trouble if she didn’t clean up. She saw a broom and a dustbin by the other corner, but Verena was faster than she was.

“I’ll do it.”

“Thanks.”

“No worries. Every girl went through a similar period of assessment when she arrived at Redfarm. Madame Lana thinks it’s good for character.”

“Good for character? How?” Marie sat on the stool again. She was too tired to stand and she hadn’t eaten since morning. Her head spun the moment she stood.

“She thinks it’s easier to separate good people from the bad under duress. You normally show your true colors when put in trying situations.”

“Do I have to expect more of this?”

“You’ll remember peeling potatoes as the highlight of your time at Redfarm.”

Marie heard Verena’s tone, but she had the feeling the truth wasn’t far from her attempt at a joke. “Where to?”

“Four floors up. The apprentices’ wing. You’ll like your new room. You’ll see. We’ve a partial view of the lake, and on clear days, the Crystal Mountain peak is visible above the clouds.”

“Yeah.” Marie tried to raise a fist in the air to show her enthusiasm, but the gesture didn’t come out as planned. She tried a smile instead.

“You don’t have to try so hard.” Verena laughed and walked ahead.

Four floors up
. Somehow, the partial view of the lake didn’t seem worth the trouble. Marie dragged her tired feet up the four flights of stairs. She had the distinct feeling every step was really four.

“Here it is, your new room.” Verena opened a plain door and gestured for Marie to enter.

“Thank you.” Marie peered inside, her lack of enthusiasm starting to get on her own nerves. “It’s actually nice.” She directed her tired body toward the one bed without personal items on it. “I didn’t expect it to be so big.”

“This is big?” Verena sat on one of the two chairs sitting by the small desk under the window.

“It is for me. I’ve been sleeping with thirty girls for fifteen years. Sharing this whole room with only one person is wonderful.” Marie looked around, taking in the details. “You did a great job with this place.”

“Thank you, but there wasn’t a lot of space to work with, so it was easy.”

“Love these curtains.” Marie walked to the desk and took a closer look at the fabric. “It looks like Madame Carla’s Sunday dress.”

“It’s just linen.” Verena smiled.

“You think I’m an overly simplistic girl, don’t you? That I’ve never seen anything.” Marie pinched the fabric between her fingers.
I’d love to wear something made from linen.

“No… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I—” Verena was at her side, one hand on Marie’s arm.

“It’s okay. I haven’t seen anything.” Marie laughed. The first laugh of the day, and it felt good. “I lived all my life within Madame Carla’s institute. She’s kind of protective and she didn’t let us out without a proper chaperone.”

“You had a chaperone? Why?”

Marie opened the curtain to get a look at the famous view. “The Institute is in a dangerous part of Trin. Between firework farms.”

“And… Oh, I got it.”

“Not a lot to look at today, is there?” Marie squinted. The low sunrays were reflected in hundreds of miniature rainbows by the droplets of rain on the glass panel.

“Too many clouds today.”

Something caught Marie’s attention. Four floors below, there was hurried activity that looked at odds with the forced quiet of the place. “Are they who I think they are?” She knew who they were. She could see them well enough.