The first time that Jada had ever been robbed, she had been fourteen. The Chamberlyns had gone to Madrid for the Christmas Holiday to visit a college friend of her father's, and from the moment they arrived, Jada was the odd man out. Maria and Jorge had an eight year ld daughter, the perfect age to play with Zora and Kayley. Lucas was allowed to go do man-things with Jorge and Michael, but Maria and Szelem were too busy with 'adult things' to pay heed to the young teenager. They'd assumed she'd spend all of her time in the library at the house anyway, and come out to open Christmas presents.
That was what parents got for assuming, Jada was thinking gleefully as she slipped out of the house, avoiding the watchful gaze of the elderly housekeeper. It was right after lunch and the streets going each way were busy with traffic and pedestrians alike. Her dress was red velvet, falling down to her knees, and underneath it she wore white stockings. Shiny black Mary Jane shoes were on her feet, childlike shoes to go along with the childlike attitude her parents expected she still had. Her small hands were in her white-furred muffler, and her shiny gold purse was wrapped around one thin arm. Her cellular phone was tucked away in her dress pocket, on vibrate.
In retrospect, her decision to leave the house had been foolish. At the time, it had been inspired. She'd been a hopelessly naïve child, thinking the entire world was full of snowflakes and plum pudding, and that at Christmas no one was hungry or hurtful, because God and Santa took care of everyone. It had been cold that year, Jada remembered, and her face had reflected in the glass of one of the bakeries she had stopped by as red with blue lips. Flurries of ice had been like dandruff in her black curls, and she'd loved the way it looked, even though it made her scalp tingle with chill.
Everywhere she turned she had a choice- right or left? Front or back? And she'd let herself make choices at random, spinning in a little circle with her eyes tightly shut and moving forward in the direction she stopped. Gingerbread men and houses, shimmering clothing, and holiday lights. The three wise men, and candy-filled shoes.
It was growing dark, and she looked around expectantly. Shops were closing, and people in their cabs were going home. “Excuse me,” she'd stopped a boy around her own age, “I'm trying to get home to Jorge and Maria.”
“No Ingles.” he'd told her.
“Jorge. Maria. Casa.”
“Si.” he watched her, and she watched him. He walked away.
She followed. Si meant yes, so he was leading her there.
Ten minutes later she was sobbing in front of a glass window, down one white muffler and down one gold purse.
An hour later, she was tucked in front of the fire, her small hands being rubbed down by a furious Szelem, while Michael was scowling at her cell phone and the 22 missed calls. International calls (not that the cost mattered) and she'd ignored the ringing while she was off getting robbed and maybe kidnapped, and how had that Housekeeper let her get out...
The second time Jada Chamberlyn got robbed, it was legitimate. Really, the men the Casino hired had to be sharks in a pool of goldfish. This time there was no red gown, but a black satin gown and diamonds, and Jimmy Choos on her slim feet. The dealer had twinkling blue eyes and red hair, wasn't a grungy Spanish child who had probably lived on the streets. He was just as good at taking her money though. “I'm out.” she said finally, and he gave her a small smile.
“Lady Luck will be with you next time.”
“Or Miss Fortune.” she said lightly. They both smiled at the pun.
When Jada finally met with Szelem, she was as angry as she had been the last time Jada had gotten robbed.
That was what parents got for assuming, Jada was thinking gleefully as she slipped out of the house, avoiding the watchful gaze of the elderly housekeeper. It was right after lunch and the streets going each way were busy with traffic and pedestrians alike. Her dress was red velvet, falling down to her knees, and underneath it she wore white stockings. Shiny black Mary Jane shoes were on her feet, childlike shoes to go along with the childlike attitude her parents expected she still had. Her small hands were in her white-furred muffler, and her shiny gold purse was wrapped around one thin arm. Her cellular phone was tucked away in her dress pocket, on vibrate.
In retrospect, her decision to leave the house had been foolish. At the time, it had been inspired. She'd been a hopelessly naïve child, thinking the entire world was full of snowflakes and plum pudding, and that at Christmas no one was hungry or hurtful, because God and Santa took care of everyone. It had been cold that year, Jada remembered, and her face had reflected in the glass of one of the bakeries she had stopped by as red with blue lips. Flurries of ice had been like dandruff in her black curls, and she'd loved the way it looked, even though it made her scalp tingle with chill.
Everywhere she turned she had a choice- right or left? Front or back? And she'd let herself make choices at random, spinning in a little circle with her eyes tightly shut and moving forward in the direction she stopped. Gingerbread men and houses, shimmering clothing, and holiday lights. The three wise men, and candy-filled shoes.
It was growing dark, and she looked around expectantly. Shops were closing, and people in their cabs were going home. “Excuse me,” she'd stopped a boy around her own age, “I'm trying to get home to Jorge and Maria.”
“No Ingles.” he'd told her.
“Jorge. Maria. Casa.”
“Si.” he watched her, and she watched him. He walked away.
She followed. Si meant yes, so he was leading her there.
Ten minutes later she was sobbing in front of a glass window, down one white muffler and down one gold purse.
An hour later, she was tucked in front of the fire, her small hands being rubbed down by a furious Szelem, while Michael was scowling at her cell phone and the 22 missed calls. International calls (not that the cost mattered) and she'd ignored the ringing while she was off getting robbed and maybe kidnapped, and how had that Housekeeper let her get out...
The second time Jada Chamberlyn got robbed, it was legitimate. Really, the men the Casino hired had to be sharks in a pool of goldfish. This time there was no red gown, but a black satin gown and diamonds, and Jimmy Choos on her slim feet. The dealer had twinkling blue eyes and red hair, wasn't a grungy Spanish child who had probably lived on the streets. He was just as good at taking her money though. “I'm out.” she said finally, and he gave her a small smile.
“Lady Luck will be with you next time.”
“Or Miss Fortune.” she said lightly. They both smiled at the pun.
When Jada finally met with Szelem, she was as angry as she had been the last time Jada had gotten robbed.
