The Magic Scepter

Listening while the pouring rain pelted on the wooden canopy of what was the shelter for a young girl for the evening, Amy huddled into her tattered sleeping bag trying to preserve whatever body heat she could. The streets of Dublin were a cold and vindictive vulture, whom once sucked you in, never let you go. The wood of the old shop front was breaking away allowing more torrents in than it actually rebounded and Amy’s crimson hair was now soaked and matted to her scalp and face. Her ripped polo shirt and charity bin jacket had more cigarette burns in it than any public house sofa before the smoking ban. Her coffee cup she used to gather donations to help buy her next meal was now so wet it limped more than a person with leprosy. The girl knew a life of little pleasures as she had been in foster care most of her life and ran away and has been on the capital streets ever since. A girl of twelve should have been at home with her mother curled up in a loving embrace surrounded by warmth and nice pleasantries. Such was not a fate for Amy. Amy now lived from meal to meal begging for change and hoping a stranger may pity her haggard appearance so much they might buy her a hot meal. During the summer days it was not so bad as the warmth of the evening sun until late into the late hours of dusk helped her keep some warmth. The winter months such as this one were a cold of a mistress as any ill tempered step-mother in any fairy tale book. Amy would have given her right hand to be in that story now. The icy blast from the evening wind chilled any well dressed man to the core. It froze Amy to the pit of her stomach and then continued to numb her feet and toes. Whatever food she had to line her malnourished body was now sat like a lump of ice at the pit of a chest freezer in desperate need of thawing. The rags in which she huddled around her were so wet and so decomposed that they would have ignited if a single flame was in the locality of a foot from her body. Yet Amy hoped and prayed that someone would take pity and give her refuge from the harsh weather that was becoming so schizophrenic that not even met eireann could predict it. The shop in which she laid in front of was closed and derelict for some time now, if she really wanted to she could have broken in and sought shelter inside. She knew though that an event like that would attract gardai and they would force her back to a care home. That was the last place she wanted to go near now. As bad as the streets are they were worst. Huddled against the frame of the old shop front the young girl slowly tried to get some sleep. The patting of the droplets against the pavement had become an all too familiar lullaby for this girl and the musky smell of stale debris in the river of rain was a welcome distraction to cover the fact her belly was aching with hunger. The song being sung by the weather was forcing the child’s eyes to become heavier and heavier and at last she fell into a sleep that could only be described by me as a spell of a faint. It was deep and sudden. Her sleep that night was hard. It was eased by the fact when she awoke a stranger had tucked a crimpled five euro note into her drenched hand and left some gloves for her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she tried to sit up fully and stretch out some of the aches in her arms and legs. The muscles knew the stabs from the wet and cold weather all too well now and the pain was getting to be more severe now. When she coughed her lungs hurt more and more and every breath now was like getting kicked to the back by a bull seeing red. A few moments of adjusting her sleeping bag and climbing out of her over sized jacket she finally sat up straight and stretched with a vast amount of agony. Her yawn drew in more icy breath into her already suffocating lungs and caused pins and needles sensation right up her throat. Blood rushed to her head giving her the dizzy feeling one gets when afraid of heights and are five storey’s up. Amy however just ignored what she was feeling and cherished the thought of going to a fast food drive through to get a coffee and a morning bap. They agreed to serve her but only if she stayed outside and ordered through the drive through. Some of the workers would take pity on her and give her a large coffee or tea and some would be horrid and run her saying she was not welcomed in the premises. The girl wanted to survive, what was so wrong with that. Slowly she crept up the sidewalk with her worldly possessions tied up in a single bag. She did not have much but what she had she knew she needed for another night on the streets. Every step stung her feet more and more sending darts up her legs and a feeling of collapse at each trod. What would take a normal 12 year old ten minutes to walk took Amy twenty. She was hunched over like an old woman her back sore and hair matted and hanging in her face. The jeans she wore hung around her tiny waist by a simple piece of leather she found in a dustbin and tied around herself. The runners on her feet were from a time she could crawl into a charity clothes donation bank and get the sleeping bag and jacket out of at the same time. Fate was cruel and vicious and Amy wondered what she had done so cruel in a previous life to justify such a malicious turn of fate. Finally she arrived at the drive through. A new member of staff gasped as she stared at the once pretty twelve year old girl with horror. The manager was alerted and ran her from the premises saying she was scaring the customers away. All she wanted was a coffee and her breakfast bap. Sobbing with hunger now as her stomach rumbled she slowly climbed to the edge of a dumpster which belonged to the restaurant. She flung the lid open using all her strength and fell into the clear bags with a heavy thump. The clear bin liners identified which had food and which had wash room waste in them. She searched the food ones and found a few half eaten chicken burgers and some cold soggy chips and she swallowed down almost without taking a breath. “Why do rich people have so much wastage?” she thought. As she took one of her few breaths between devouring her meal she could hear the co0nstant opening and closing of the restaurant door. While her mouth was full of stale chips she heard footsteps approach the dustbin. Was she about to be caught and ran from this shelter or forced to leave her meal behind as she would certainly have to escape before social services were called. A soft spoken voice called out “Amy, are you there?” Immediately Amy knew whom it was that called her. It was Paula. She always took Amy extra food or tea. She did not like Amy drinking coffee as she said it stumped her growth. Slowly the top of Amy’s head peeped over the rim of the bin for Paula to see her hiding place. She lowered her eyes as if unspoken to tell Amy duck so you can’t be seen. Amy did so. In one hand Paula had a rubbish bag in the other she had a paper bag and a drink. With a single swing she flung the bag to the far corner of the bin. Missing Amy completely! The other hand held the paper bag and cup over the rim so that Amy could take the contents and have a meal. She knew from the aroma surrounding the bag it was hot food and greatly appreciated what Paula was doing for her. If her boss saw her giving away food she would be in serious trouble. Amy’s green eyes met Paula’s gaze and Amy filled with tears and sobbed quietly Thank you. Paula could not help but look down and shed a single tear for this young girl whom was so astonishingly beautiful and yet no one seemed to want her. Paula felt her heart break. She was a single woman in her thirties whom did not have any children of her own. She was dark haired with brown inviting eyes and a build that would put any super model to shame. Her lips suited her so much. Soft simple lips with such a soft spoken and pleasant manner in every word she spoke. The freckles that dotted her face mad