Little Light

"I'm sorry," the woman whispered, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief. She hadn't stopped crying for the past few days, ever since she'd made her decision.

On the other side of the stagecoach was Lucia, a small thing who sat with her back rigid, staring out the window with her hands folded in her lap. Her hair, somewhere between blonde and brown, hung past her shoulders in loose curls. Usually her mother would have implored her to run a brush through her hair, get it out of her face, but this morning neither of them said anything about it as they prepared to leave. It hadn't seemed to matter.

As promised, the coach had rolled up on the dirt pathway in front of their small home, and the two women climbed up into the back, neither one speaking even as they began their journey.

Lucia's eyes flicked between the trees they passed by, the leaves falling down in warm shades of autumn. She had always loved this season, when the heat of summer began to dissipate, making room for the chill that washed over their town. What would normally have been a wonderful experience, being able to feel the cold breeze of the new season on her face, was instead ruined by a dark cloud hanging over her, of what was to come.

Lucia felt no obligation to answer her mother's empty apologies. In fact, the way that she saw it, she no longer had a mother at all. In the span of just a couple weeks, she'd lost both her father and her mother.

It was no secret that they were poor, and when her father had died Lucia tried her best to pick up the pieces of her mother. She was the one who made sure her mother ate, changed little Theo's diaper, and tried her best to maintain the affairs of the home. She hadn't known quite how bad it all was until a debt collector had shown up on their doorstep.

Left to her own devices, Lucia had opened the door to see a man with a long coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck. Before she could ask who he was, he demanded to see Hope Deighton. "Give me the money I'm owed," he seethed.

She tried her best to placate the man, who was evidently getting worked up and trying to push past Lucia in the doorway, but it was all interrupted when her mother's voice came from behind her.

"Next Tuesday," Hope said. Lucia turned around to see her mother standing there with swollen red-rimmed eyes and looking sickly.

"You people-"

"Nelson died. Heaven forbid his widow is given a few days to scrounge up the money he owed."

"I'm back on Tuesday. If I'm not given what I'm owed, I'm marching in and taking whatever payment is proper." He spat on their floor and then turned to walk away, his eyes looking Lucia up and down in a way that disclosed exactly his meaning.

Lucia had been confused by her mother's words, unsure of how they would come up with the finances. She hadn't imagined that Hope would make a decision like this, though, and since her mother broke the news with tears in her eyes Lucia hadn't spoken a word. She refused to ask any questions about it either, the whole thing making her feel sick whenever she thought about it.

"We're here." The stagehand said gruffly as they came to a stop.

The two passengers stepped out of the stagecoach to be faced with what looked like a relatively large barn. Lucia had gotten lost in her thoughts and for the last leg of their journey hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going. When did they come so far into the forest?

"Looks like we have a seller on our doorstep." A man said with a smile, walking towards where Hope and Lucia stood in front of the barn.

Hope nodded tearfully, and by her side Lucia stood, looking at the man in silence. He was older, with a balding head and the skin on his face drooping with age. Lucia kept her face still, as impassive as possible, but she didn't like this man, the way his eyes examined her as if he was appraising goods.

If her mother were the seller, then she supposed she was just that: goods.

"Let's head inside," the man said, gesturing towards the entrance. He began walking, the two women trailing close behind.

Lucia could tell her mother kept sneaking glances towards her, but she kept her eyes forward, her face stony even as she took in the interior of the barn. There was a foyer area, quite nicely decorated, with squishy cushioned chairs and lamps atop the tables dotted around the space.

They all sat on those squishy chairs and the man spoke directly to Hope now, pulling out a pad of paper. "I presume this is your daughter?"

"Yes," answered Hope, her voice getting caught in her throat.

He gave another smile, as if her nerves were something he saw all the time. "How old is she?"

"She just turned eighteen in June."

"Is there anything we should know about her health? Any family history?" He considered Lucia, tipping his head slightly as he judged the young woman in front of him. She was pretty, but her mouth was slightly pinched from poorly hidden agitation and she looked unseeingly ahead of her as if to avoid meeting eyes with him.

"She's very healthy." Hope said, nodding her head vigorously. "She does get some of the hay fever in the spring, but apart from that she's as healthy as they come. There are no other issues on either side of her family."

"And what of her personality? What is she like?"

Lucia grit her teeth in annoyance, feeling the bumps of her molars against each other. For him to be asking these questions to someone when she was right there was just odd. It made her uncomfortable.

Hope's eyes flitted towards her daughter. "She has always been gentle and sweet. She is quick to obey, and does what she is asked to with speed. In the past we have tried to get her to open her mouth, speak up some more, but unfortunately she never wanted to."

Lucia felt heat creep up her cheeks, hearing how her mother talked about her. Even though nothing said was innacurate, she didn't like how she'd been reduced to just a couple sentences.

The man tapped his finger against his temple. The girl was very slight. If she caught fever, she looked as if she wouldn't be able to make it through her sickness. But apart from that, there wasn't much else he felt apprehensive about. He was sure he could fetch a very high price for her if he played his cards right.

He could sense desperation coming off of the older woman. She needed money, and that was clouding her mind. He knew exactly how to treat the sale.

"Joseph." He called out, and a door on the far side of the room opened.

The man that Lucia presumed was Joseph walked out. "Yes?"

"Can you kindly escort this young woman for some tea? Or hot cocoa, if she prefers." The man said, his eyes not leaving Lucia's.

Joseph stepped forward, indicating that Lucia should follow him into the room he'd just exited from. Lucia cast an uncertain glance around, but the man speaking to her mother only gave her a forced smile that told her she should leave.

As Lucia left the room, he flipped over the page where he had been writing down his notes, and scribbled something down. He handed over the note pad so that Hope could take a look, and as the door snicked shut behind Lucia and Joseph she heard what he said.

"The one on the left is what I'm prepared to give to you right now. Now, if the figure on the right..."

"You seem like you would like hot cocoa more," said Joseph as he pulled a mug down from a cupboard. "Am I right?"

Lucia nodded, trying her best to keep her attention on what was happening in the other room. But the small room they found themselves in was quite good at insulating sound, and as Joseph bustled around he interfered with what they were saying.

She thought she heard the man say something about "big buyers" and "more money". Just then Joseph set down the mug in front of her, steam rising up from its surface.

Being poor, it wasn't often that Lucia had been able to indulge in sweets. This drink of frothy chocolate was a luxury, and she relished it as she gave a nod of thanks and then took a sip.

The man in the other room had been talking for quite a while, and he seemed to have finished his speech because now it was quiet in both rooms.

Joseph seemed to not mind her preference for silence, and remained sitting, arms crossed and looking at the girl in front of him.

He knew the conversation that was taking place in the other room, and pitied the girl. He'd seen the two women through the window, the way they refused to look at each other, how the older woman carried hopelessness in her eyes. She would be taking the deal, even if meant that her daughter would suffer for it.

Lucia took another sip of her hot cocoa, letting the sweet cream swirl around her mouth before she let it trickle down her throat. After what felt like an eternity she heard her mother begin to speak. Even though Joseph was no longer making noise, it was difficult to pick out any of what was said.

"Bigger... only differs... immediately..." Hope ended it with a question.

"Yes." The man said in response.

There was a long, drawn out silence.

Finally Hope responded, and what she said had the air of finality. Lucia wished she could hear more, anything more, but just then the door was opened from the other side.

"Come back in," he said to her. Lucia walked over, leaving her full mug on the table behind her. She stood in the doorway as the man looked expectantly between mother and daughter. "I expect you'd like to say your goodbyes, then."

Lucia looked at her mother, who still had her eyes on the ground, refusing to look at her.

Ever so slowly, Hope raised her gaze to Lucia's stoic face. It was worse than she imagined, facing the offspring she was abandoning - nay, betraying. She tried to tamp it down, promising herself that she would keep it together just until she could step out of the building. But still her voice hitched when she pasted a small smile on her face and stood up, raising her arms to ask for a hug. "I love you, Lucia."

Lucia looked at the crumbling woman in front of her, and though she had a detached pity for Hope's obvious guilt, the distaste in her mouth kept her from closing the gap between them. Instead, she shook her head and took a step backwards.

Hope couldn't hide the disappointment in her face as she nodded, turning her eyes towards the balding man. "Well, then, I suppose it is time."

"Very well," the man said. "Joseph, you can take the girl to start getting processed. She will be in Section A. Now, Hope, about your payment..."

The door closed behind them. Lucia numbly followed Joseph's guidance as he led her back into the small room, his hand against the small of her back. They went into the door on the other side of the room, which was much larger than both the foyer and refreshments room.

It was much more like a barn here, the floor made of dirt. The room itself was empty, but to one side of the room was a wash station with a hose, basins, and a small basket containing what looked like cakes of soap. In the middle of them all there was a large rectangular metal frame, with a few ropes tied around it at irregular intervals.

"You'll need to remove your clothes." Joseph said nearly apologetically. Before Lucia could ask, he began to explain. "You need to be washed properly before we put you in your station. I trust that you will not resist. I don't want to have to restrain you, and I doubt you would prefer that either."

Lucia eyed the metal frame, suddenly realizing what all the ropes were for. She didn't want to imagine standing in the middle of it, ropes tied about her wrists and ankles, stretching them out from her body and leaving her naked-

She had to cut off the visceral image that rose up in her head, and she shook her head, cheeks becoming warm.

"Great, then I trust you will be good." Joseph could see that she wasn't the type to fight. They got those sometimes, girls that shrieked like banshees as they kicked out, claws bared to try to draw blood. But no, this one was ready to submit, to be soft even in the face of arduous ordeals. He almost wished he could purchase her to save her from whatever fate she might face when she got to Section A. But heavens knew he didn't have the money to do so.

"Everything off," he said softly.

Lucia made quick work of disrobing herself, shrugging off her shawl and threadbare shirt, her skirt. The air was chilly, and she began to shiver as she folded up her clothing and set it down upon a stool. She stood in just her underclothes, arms around her middle so as to preserve her body heat.

They were the last layer of defense between her and Joseph, and she dreaded the thought of removing them. Then she would really be completely vulnerable. He only looked at her as if waiting, and though there was no hint of impatience on his face she still felt the pressure to move quickly, scared of upsetting this man who could snap her into pieces should he choose to.

So with face fiercely hot and goose pimples all across her arms, Lucia removed them, putting them on top of her clothes.

She covered her breasts with her arms, aware that doing so left her private place below on full display. She was glad for the thatch of dark hair there that hid her from view, though, as she stepped forward to where Joseph told her to.

For Joseph, who was in charge of processing all of the boys and girls who were sold, he was good at maintaining his professional nature. But there were times where that front faltered, and seeing Lucia meekly following his instructions was one of those times.

When she removed her chemise, her pert little breasts were fully on display. Her nipples, a soft pink, stood at attention on her chest from the cold weather. And when she stepped out of her drawers to reveal her body fully nude, he had to let out a slow, controlled breath to try to get his body not to flare up in response.

She really was a spectacular creature, small and flighty but with just enough curves that marked her as a woman.

Lucia was miserable enough to not notice the hint of an erection straining at Joseph's crotch, and stood in the middle of the frame, waiting for him.

He had her put her hands on the back of her head, to have her feet apart from each other, so there really was no privacy nor protection for her body. Everything was fully in the open.

"The water is cold," he said. "So I will try to be quick."

She couldn't help the gasp that left her mouth as he directed the hose onto her, the water searingly icy as it weakly splashed against her skin.

He was methodical, wetting her thoroughly before rubbing the cakes of soap into her hair. He worked it into a lather, scrubbed at her scalp, and then began to scrub at her skin with a scratchy sponge. She fought not to cry out as he made little circles with it, all along her limbs and torso and legs.

Afterwards, he used the water to rinse off the soap, guiding it with his hands. His touch was hot on her, and she grit her teeth as it burned her sensitive skin. His hands lingered just a bit on her breasts, but then he directed his attention to between her legs.

"Sorry." He frothed some soap in his hand before he put his finger between her legs. She squeaked in a bit of protest as he took extra care working the soap in the crevices between her legs. He carefully scraped a fingernail somewhere between her folds, and then repeated it again on the other side. "Just have to make sure you're squeaky clean."

He shut the water off, leaving her positively drenched to the bone and violently shaking. He began to dry her off using a towel, wiping the water quickly from her each of her limbs. He then wrapped it around her, which helped just a bit, and then squeezed some of the water of out her hair.

Lucia stood there, clutching the towel around her shoulders with teeth chattering.

"We're going to go this way." He began to walk forward, again with his hand on her back.

She cast another look back at her clothes, which were still folded up on that stool. But before she could protest they had cleared the doorway and she found herself in what could only be described as a stable. She wrapped the towel around herself as they walked, relieved that this area was warm.

The stables were not like the ones meant for horses, though, each one instead the size of little rooms. Each enclosure had a human in it.

Everyone she saw was very young, and her heart ached seeing all of the children that had been abandoned. There were signs outside each enclosure, and as they walked she saw one that listed out, 'JIMMY, 7. FAMILIAR WITH FARM WORK, HEALTHY.'

Another one said, 'MAGGIE, 9. CAN COOK, SEW. LIKES TO SING.'

Lucia tried not to look into the enclosures, because she would see the sorrow on the little ones' faces, the way there was a shadow of hope in their eyes that followed Lucia and Joseph as they walked past.

They walked through another door, this one with a sign that was labeled 'SECTION C'.

This was similar to the last, but the childbnhren were a little older.

'SARAH, 13. GOOD WITH NEEDLEWORK. POLITE.'

Lucia pulled her towel more tightly about her.

They walked through the next door, labeled 'SECTION B'.

Those in this section were on average much older. But there was something else about this section that disturbed Lucia. In contrast to Sections C and D, where the children were advertised as helping hands around the home and lovely sons and daughters, Section B had signs that communicated all of these young women as potential brides.

The signs were more robust, more detailed written into them.

'ALICE, 17. COMES FROM A RURAL FARM ON THE COAST. LIKES TO CLEAN. HAS 3 SIBLINGS, SO EXPERIENCED WITH CHILD REARING.' There was some more written below that, but Joseph was moving faster than Lucia could read the signs.

The last door was labeled 'SECTION A', and Lucia knew this was where she was destined for. This was where the balding man had said she'd be going.

She gulped as Joseph pushed it open.

On the whole, Section A wasn't too different from each of the prior sections, albeit much smaller. It was more like Section B in that there were no boys here, with only one girl in each stable. Another difference was that the prisoners of every section before had been clothed. In Section A, all of the girls were fully nude.

Joseph walked her down to the far end, where there were a few empty enclosures.

There were only four other girls in this section, and they looked at Lucia as she was guided into her own stable. Joseph collected the towel from Lucia, who handed it over reluctantly.

"You'll get fed once a day. If you need to relieve yourself you can use the bucket in the corner. Otherwise you just sit here and wait. We bring 'round buyers as there's interest, so there's no telling how long you'll be here. Other rule is that there's no talking, no doing anything out of the ordinary. Don't think for a second there's no one watching you." He was relatively monotone as he listed off the rules, as if he'd done it a million times before. But then he looked at the fear in Lucia's eyes and he dropped his voice, his tone softening as he said his next words quietly, meant only for her ears. "Hang in there."

With that, he stepped out of the enclosure, swinging shut the door of her new home and locking it from a ring of keys he pulled out from his pocket.

Lucia watched him walk back down towards Section B, the door shutting behind him with a dull thud. In her enclosure (or as she thought of it, her cell) there wasn't much else other than the bucket in the corner. On the other side was a cot with a thin blanket, where she presumed she would be sleeping.

She wondered what they all did all day. She thought of Maggie's sign from earlier. That little girl liked to sing, right? Something told her that if Maggie tried to sing, it would result in punishment.