by Kara Soylular
Rugged boots made their way up the spotless stairs. The stairs that belonged to no other than the Davenport entryway. Sighing, an aged-face woman proceeded to knock on the exquisite doors that gleamed russet. The door cracked open and a head with repudiating blue eyes and tasseled strands of blonde framing its face, peered out. “Oh you’re here, how wonderful! Come and have a seat in our yard, we were just discussing you a minute ago.” The woman who neared more into sight hosted a glamorous yellow sundress, kissed with haughty polka dots heeded pink.
“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Mrs. Davenport,” the humbled Nanny replied.
The homely figure dressed in rags followed Mrs. Davenport.
The two women found themselves at an inordinate door slit slightly open. Glints caught the stained glass imprinted in the middle of the portal, which projected an array of scheming colors that would not have been visible if no sunlight shimmered it through. “Mr. Davenport is outside. He’s been rather haggard as of late I tell you,” Mrs. Davenport slipped silk gloves over her delicate skin.
“Ah, as they say men age quicker than women!” The plain spinster kidded.
Mrs. Davenport was slightly amused, and by now, her scornful frown had lifted, although she was still not thoroughly satisfied with the modesty of her guest she would soon call Nanny. Scrawny hands held the door wide for the superior, as worn-down boots continued to shadow high-heels. A splendid gazebo caped over a porcelain-rounded table, and a rather plump man sat at the edge closest to the north-east from where the women stood.
“Oh it’s you”, the stout man continued, “and why are you here? A nanny dresses professional, presentable enough to go out in town. You are not to dress in those scraps if you plan to keep your job.”
“Yes sir.” The Nanny twiddled with her overgrown fingernails filled with crust, and cocked her head left, examining the man of such disrespect.
“So Nanny, what brought you here to work with our dearest daughter Avery? A little doll like her shouldn’t have to witness a disgrace like you.” The scowl regained its scorn, and knit its way at the speechless Nanny.
“Well, Mrs. Davenport, I may come from a lower background, yet I have a genuine interest in children. Matter of fact, I didn’t have a background. I had to build my own. I was orphaned at the age of three, and since then I suppose I’ve always had aspirations to work with children who don’t have parents around often. As I’ve said, I’ve always had an affinity for the young.”
“Well why would you expect a higher off family to hire a shame such as yourself?” Mr. Davenport’s prominent stomach jutted out even more as he questioned the helpless Nanny.
“Mr. Davenport. I will not tolerate such asininity. Because I see your daughter rids herself of you. You even told me yourself that she wants absolutely nothing to do with you. And I see why. Why you would be frustrated, as would she. I want to help your family Mr. Davenport, please give me a chance.”
“Ok, and your experience with children?” I was forced to raise myself and my sister, yet she became deceased as of November 1989. She would’ve been twenty as of two weeks ago.” Her misunderstood green eyes sparkled intent with sorrow, yet good-natured optimism flared through their surface. Simultaneously, the rather crooked nose that belonged to her face scrunched upward with no crude intention. “I may have not had formal education, yet I attended Wylastria Community College, and earned my associates in child development. It was all I could afford… However, I truly do believe that experience should be more valued than quality. Please give me a chance, I plead of you.”
“Fine, as you wish. Come prepared tomorrow morning at 10:00, and do be on time. I suppose we’ll have to find you something suitable to wear… Suzanne, would you take care of that?”
“Of course dear. Why don’t I go grab that extra capri I picked up a few months ago? Oh, and a blouse of course.”
“Thank you Honey! Now, I must warn you Nanny, our daughter Avery has been acting a bit askew as of late. No one can seem to pull her out of her little fragile shell.” Mr. Davenport shook his head at the matter, and let out a puffed scoff. He was still unsure about the Nanny.
“I’m sure it will take some time, yet I am certain that I can manage. Thank you so very much for the job, Mr. Davenport. Truly is my pleasure to be working with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just be prepared for tomorrow.” The two exchanged a handshake, a bit of a skeptical accent to the movement of Mr. Davenport. Suzanne Davenport emerged from the prominent door, and handed the Nanny a sac containing a stuffy white blouse and black capris.
“Good bye now, please do get some rest. I’ll see you promptly tomorrow!” Mrs. Davenport walked the woman she would now call Nanny out to the entryway.
“Goodbye Mrs. Davenport! I will be seeing you tomorrow.” The Nanny had got the job.
As the night passed, the Mr. and Mrs. Davenport slept, yet a small figure laid wide awake. She was thinking about the next day, and not with a pleasant outlook… She fell asleep amidst her animosity of the morning that lay ahead of her. The morning came of course, and lifeless grey eyes fluttered open with defeat. They loomed around with something else to focus upon. “Mother, would you mind if I got something to eat? I’m a bit starved, and I need a big meal for this day”, the eager girl that looked about to be fourteen years of age asked.
“No dear, your nanny will fix you something. I have to run to Mrs. McClure’s house for bingo, but I left your Nanny a To-do list. She won’t be long. Bye dear!”
“Bye mum.” The little voice was so helpless, it was barely audible, if not audible at all.
Half an hour later, a knock pounded from the marble door, and the small figure went to retrieve it.
“Hello Avery, how is your morning?” The Nanny came prepared as ever, smiling warmly at the red-headed lass ahead of her.
“Fine.” The lass with the drained red hair mumbled.
“Have you had anything to eat? You look hungry.”
“No.” The girl kept her gaze un-fixed at the genial smile that beamed her way.
“Okay then, I’ll scramble you some eggs. How about I turn the television on for you?”
Avery did not dare to answer. For she was untrusting toward everyone.
The Nanny persisted, yet the girl remained silent. The day passed, weeks passed.
One day, the Nanny had decided she try to reach Avery, and so she devised a plan.
“Avery, today we’re going try something a bit different. Would you please come here so we can talk?”
The girl with the lonesome eyes said nothing. Grey scars lined their depth, pale and lifeless.
“Listen, sweetheart, I know what it feels like to be neglected.”
Grey eyes drew more intent with life; interest casting overcast their usual gloom.
“I was abandoned by my mother when I was three, Avery. My father passed just one day before the day I was born. I see that you want to be payed more attention to, am I right?”
The grey that loomed Avery’s eyes blew sunshine within them, bright blue eyes lit up the room. Yet the rays faltered, replacing new clouds that cast.
“All I want is to be loved, Nanny. My parents never pay me any attention. All I ever am is stuck in this miserable place”, rain cascaded from the clouds… The Nanny drew her in for an embrace, an umbrella torn with scars joining the scar it sheltered.
Nothing was said for a good hour.
“Avery, would you like to go for a ride on my bike? It has seats for two.”
The scar cut open was clotting, and it called for fresh air.
Avery didn’t even think twice to refusing.
The two were as giddy as can be- a ray of light cycling through the clouds that roamed the depth of the sky.
All of a sudden, thunder caught the drive with a crash, and a cloud bled with tears, whilst the other lay stuck.
New scars lining her legs, the Nanny rushed Avery to the hospital.
It was the last time the Nanny saw her.
A decade past, and the scars were not closed. One cloudy day, the Nanny received a letter from an anonymous writer.
Thank you for reaching out to me. Scars may always remain, yet with time they resolve within their closure. They may be here to stay, yet they’re a reminder- a reminder to show an endeavor you’ve yet conquered. Thank you, Nanny.”
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