Sick on the Streets

It's been a few weeks. I slip over to see Ashfield to discuss the needs of the city, and Paris keeps everyone together. He keeps us all fed and warm. Sunday nights are the most fun. They're cute moments where people play music, there's singing and dancing, and for just one moment it feels like we're the children we're all supposed to be.

But then someone calls my name, and someone else pulls Paris aside and we're fixing problems and resolving disputes in the middle of our parties. I'm taken to a girl who is feverish, and Paris is talking quietly with a pale boy from the other side of camp.

But it's time for Paris to speak. Paris always speaks. He gives a report. At first, he was so, painfully, shy. But he was getting better, picking his battles, and becoming more comfortable with his role as a leader all the time. He was admirable to watch. He stood up now.

"Alright, alright!" He's trying to quiet the crowds, they settle down with scattered laughter, leaving Paris in the silence playing with his long fingers. "We've been having a proper good time tonight, and I'm glad. So, so glad that we're all here together," he paused, his own sentimentality overwhelming. He smiled at the crowd, his eyes squinting. I know what this is, it's his trying not to cry smile. I'm going to make my way up to him. What if he needs me?

"I know I need to give a report. The truth of it is that we don't have much. We don't have a lot of money, but we're all working on that every day, and we don't have much food. But for the first time in, well maybe in my entire life, we have enough food. Which is, honestly, the most incredible feeling. My biggest concern is that the weather is going to start turning on us." An unsettled silence fell over the children. Some of them hadn't experienced winter on the streets yet, but the ones who had survived the winters were haunted by the freezing cold nights and the countless deaths.

"My hope is that by the time winter rolls around we'll have someplace to sleep. Not under a bridge and not around a campfire, but in a building. At this point I'll take anything, a barn maybe. I don't know. But I'm not willing to lose any of you to the snow and the ice. So know that this is a challenge I'm hoping we can fix together. Thank you," he stepped down and the music started again, albeit a bit slowly. I was waiting for him when he got down from his makeshift podium.

"Hey," he sighs when he sees me and sits on the rickety steps he's walking down.

"Hey," I sit on the step just below his and rest my head on his leg. He runs his fingers through my hair and we sit together. We're tired.

"Some of the boys are sick."

"Some of the girls too."

"What do we do? Illness has always been something that just takes people. I hadn't considered the fact that gathering us all together might make things worse," I can hear the groan in his voice.

"It hasn't made things worse Paris," I sat back and faced him directly. "We've dealt with everything that has come our way. We can do this. We'll do it together."

"Mera I don't even know where to begin. We don't have enough food, we can't keep people warm enough, clean water is a problem, and now people are sick. And it's not like they're sick with something we can treat. When we get sick here we just pray we can recover, or we die. And I-" he sighs, holding his head in his hands. I move up to his stair and wrap my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"I know Paris. I know." They sat watching as children played, ate, danced, and cared for each other. It was nice. One of the prettiest things I'd ever seen.

"I just don't know how to fix this."

"Paris, I could ask the Prince." He sat up and looked at her.

"Why would he help us?"

"You know that I've been meeting with him Paris. He'll help us. I'm sure he will."

"Glad to know you have such confidence in your prince." He looked upset. This was ridiculous..

"Paris we haven't talked about this, yet and we should. I know that you don't like it but-"

"What's the agreement?" He swallowed, speaking in a lowered voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what are you doing for him that we have blankets now? What did you have to do to get money these last couple of weeks?" I know what he's asking and I can't believe he would think that of me.

"Do you really think I would sell myself, Paris?"

"I don't know Mera. I don't know because we're trying to do something we've never done before, and you're bringing back huge amounts of gold. What do you want me to think? If you're doing that for us, for all of them, then how can I blame you? But I didn't want to know at first. I didn't want to know because it felt gross and selfish of me to care. You can do what you want with your own body but-" his breathing is ragged and I'm so shocked. "It's none of my business personally. But if we're going to lead these children, Mera, I need to know what you're doing for the prince that he's paying you." His eyes are shut tight, and I can feel a blush running down my neck, and covering my chest.

"It's not like that Paris. I promise," he opens just one eye, brows raised in question. "I am his council, a representative of the street children. He pays me for council. And friendship." I wishper the last part. I consider myself friends with Ashfield now, but I'm not sure how Paris will like that.

"You're in an official council position?" He looked confused. Relieved, but confused.

"I mean, as official as he can have at this point. His father doesn't particularly trust him to rule yet, and he's just trying to present new ideas to his father. Plus, it gives us access to a lot of things. Like maybe medicine." Paris leaned back, letting out a sigh. I wait.

"How often?"

"What?"

"How often do you have to be there?"

"Twice a week is the agreement."

"For how long?"

"I usually go right before or right after dinner. It depends on the day, on what we're doing, and on who needs help."

"That's why you come home so late?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"So I can ask him more medicine?"

"We have to. I can go with you this time."

"You don't have to, Paris."

"But I could. You wouldn't have to alone all the time."

"They need you Paris." He scrunched his nose and smiles wryly.

"I want you to need me."

"Paris," I sigh, I'm not prepared for this conversation again. "I've grown up a lot since that first night. I'm more capable now. We can work together. Isn't that better?"

"I know, I know, and I'm okay with you doing things on your own. It's great. I'm proud of you Mera. But I miss you."

"You miss me?" I'm genuinely curious.

"I used to see you everyday, all the time. Now I see you all day, but I don't get to talk to you except for business. I don't get to talk to you about anything but taking care of everyone, and our next move, and the next plan. And I just, I miss you Mera."

"I miss you too, Paris. But this won't last forever."

"What if, while it lasts, you decide to leave?" He's not looking at me now.

"Paris, the last few days we have been talking in circles. You aren't understanding me, and I know it's because I'm not being clear enough. But let me try to be clear now." I reached out, using two fingers to turn his face back to look at me. "I'm not leaving. You've asked me more than a dozen times in the years we've been living on the streets together. I'm not going anywhere. And it's not because I don't have anywhere else to go. It's because I like being with you. I've never turned down your offer to stay."

The slow, shy smiled that grows on his face makes my heart flutter. I can feel myself blushing, my fingers still on his face. He takes that hand and kisses each of my fingers, never letting his eyes leave mine.

"Go. Get the medicine. I'll see you when you get back," I'd nearly forgotten that we were talking about this.

"Yeah, I'll be as quick as I can. Try to keep their fevers low. Take them to the river, be sure that you're having them drink what clean water we can-"

"I've got this Mera. We've made it this long. We can do this too," I feel all my anxiety about the fevers coming back.

"Thank you Paris," I give him a quick hug, and turn to go. If we hadn't just had this conversation I wouldn't notice, but his fingers trail down my shoulder, and then my arm and I turn from him. It shouldn't be more significant, but it's just the way his touch lingers more than it used to. I can't help but notice. It has me smiling all the way to the palace steps.