Moonlight filters in through the stairwell windows and glistens on the polished marble and mahogany around me. What little illumination it provides is unnecessary, however. I could navigate the route from my bedroom in the servant's quarters down to the parlor by memory alone, I've walked it so many nights.
At the base of the stairs I stop and feel my hands into the fronds of a decorative fern. A moment later I produce its prize: a makeshift key, hidden in the exact spot I left it. I wrap my fingers around the thin bit of metal and continue on down the hall.
Tonight is cold and still. In the silence the soft swishing of my nightdress against my legs seems to fill the house. Each bare footstep on the stone echoes from the ceiling high above. But everyone else is tucked away in their beds, beneath covers and behind closed doors where they cannot hear me. All save the one I'm going to see. Precious little Stella.
Her cage hangs in the corner of the parlor, beside the madame's favorite sitting chair. Even from the other side of the great room I can see it, silhouetted by moonlight. As I approach, weaving around exotic furniture and sculptures, I notice no human figure standing against the cage's arching metal bars to greet me. Stella rarely sleeps before I come for her. I fear the madame may have been especially hard on her today.
As I draw near I whisper, "Stella? Are you alright? I'm here now." She doesn't respond, and I'm finally close enough to see why. She's unconscious, sprawled on the floor of the cage as though she'd been tossed there. Her hair's all mussed and her dress is nowhere in sight.
At seeing my friend's pitiful state my mind spins off into fantasies of the madame's depredation. My blood begins to rise, but I force myself to stay calm. Rage won't help Stella now. She needs comfort.
I work the door of the cage open and then pocket my key. Reaching in with both hands, I scoop the four inch girl up and bring her close to my chest. The motion causes her to stir. She wakes frightfully, fighting against my gentle grip.
"Shhh, shhh, it's just me, little one."
"Mm-marion?"
"Yes, dear."
Her tiny limbs relax against my palm. "Oh..." she takes a long sigh, "For a moment I thought I was back in her hands. She... she used me a lot today."
"I know."
"Sorry I fell asleep on you."
"Don't be sorry for a silly thing such as that."
I waste no time in beginning the journey back to my bedroom. As I approach the stairs, I feel my tiny passenger shiver.
"You're freezing, aren't you?"
"It's not s-so bad. I'm q-quite numb at this point." Her words are optimistic but she can hardly finish them before another shiver wracks her body.
I cup my hands tighter around her and bring them up to my mouth. Gently, I blow my warm breath over her. She murmurs a pleased tone and shifts in my hands.
"Better?"
"Much, thank you." After a moment she pipes up again. "How was your day?"
"Long, but productive. After I finished the madame's chores I had some time to work on a new quilt."
"Oh?"
"And I managed to sell one, too. That's another five dollars towards our railroad ticket. We might have enough to leave for California by the end of the year."
"That's wonderful news. You've earned far more for us than I ever could."
"Oh, don't say that, Stella. People would pay to hear you sing, if only the madame let them."
"Perhaps."
She doesn't sound convinced, but I believe if she were not cursed with this shrunken state she would be a noblewoman or an opera star. Not someone who would have anything to do with the likes of me. I was born a servant to a family of servants and would always be such.
At last I slip into my bedroom. The oil lamp burning on my nightstand is more than enough to illuminate the small space. But it is warm and most importantly, private.
I set Stella down on a folded kerchief I've placed on the nightstand and then grab a biscuit sitting nearby and break off a few pieces for her. She accepts the crumbs with a quiet thank you and begins to nibble on them while I get comfortable on the bed.
Laying on my side I watch Stella eat in silence. I imagine a giant's gaze would be disconcerting, but she does not seem to mind. She's accustomed to prying eyes and she eats with such vigor there is little room for distraction.
It hurts to see her like this. A person of such talent and grace gorging on scraps like a common waif. The longer I watch her tiny form in the lamplight the more details I see. The faint bruises adorning her torso, thin lines of chafed skin along wrists and ankles, the sheen of dried fluid caked to her hair and down her shoulders.
I realize I can *smell* the madame's sex on her. It's faint to my senses but it must be overpowering to Stella. It's a mark. A constant reminder.
My blood rises. How wrong it is to abuse the helpless. To do it for pleasure alone. Just like before, I force myself to be calm. Because the last thing Stella needs in her life is another angry giant. But I can only suppress so much.
"Oh, Stella, how could that... that--" I choke back the word I want to say, "--that *woman* do this to you!"
My tone grabs her attention. She looks over to me, her green eyes wide and surprised as she swallows a large mouthful of biscuit. Once her mouth is clear she replies, "You know how she is, Marion. There's nothing we can do besides try to get out of here, and you're already working on that."
I close my eyes and give a sharp huff as I try to compose myself again. "I know. You're right. I can't fight her. I'd give her a proper licking if I could though."
"Oh, I'm sure," Stella chuckles, "She'd stand no chance against a strong gal like you."
My anger is controlled, but it's not gone. Even though it's the evening after a hard day's work, I feel awake and vital. I want to help Stella, to put this indignant energy to use. I can't be my friend's avenging angel, but I can do something more humble. I can serve.
"Would you like a bath before bed, Stella? You look like you need one."
"Quite frankly I do, but you needn't bathe me like I'm a babe. The madame will let me wash before visitors come in the afternoon."
"It's no trouble for me, really."
"But you've already done so much tonight."
"I'd like to do a bit more."
"I... well... alright, then," she sounds uncertain, "A bath it is."
I grin victoriously. "Excellent. Now stay right there, I'll be back with the washbasin in a minute," I say, hurrying out of the bedroom.
I return from the servant's washroom with the bowl -- half-filled and laden with warm stones from the fire -- some soap, and a pair of clean rags. I sit beside the nightstand and place the basin in my lap, careful not to spill any of the water.
Stella looks down at the arrangement from her perch, a few paces back from the edge. "And warm water, too? You're spoiling me, Marion."
I raise my cupped palms up to her level. "Oh, shut up and get on. You're going to love this."
She smiles -- the first real smile I've seen tonight -- and steps onto my hands, kneeling down cautiously as they begin to move. I smile back at her, curling my fingers protectively for the descent.
I lower my hands into the water, just slightly at first. Stella squirms as the water laps at her feet.
"Too hot?"
"Almost. Go slow."
I continue. As Stella submerges she lets out a long, gentle moan. Her body goes limp in the water, and I have to use my fingers to keep her head up.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Her eyes are closed as she lays back. "Mmmm... mhmm," is all she murmurs in reply.
Shifting my grip on my tiny friend, I keep her afloat with one hand and chip off a piece of the soap with the other. I place the fingernail sized chunk down on her belly.
"Hmm?" She notices the weight, "Oh, thank you."
Standing up in my palm, she begins to lather. Then I drape the washrag near her and she scrubs. Finally I dunk her beneath the water so she can rinse. In only a few minutes she's clean, free finally from the horrors of the day.
I leave Stella on the nightstand to dry off and gather up all the bath supplies. My trip to return them is not so quick. I feel the hours catching up with me. But drowsiness is a good feeling when joined with the prospect of a warm bed and the knowledge my friend is happy.
Back within the bedroom, I sit down on the edge of my cot and rest for a moment. Looking down to where Stella is, I see the little girl huddled in the drying rag like it's an enormous blanket. Oddly, she does not acknowledge my arrival. I lean closer to get a better look at her. To my surprise I hear faint sobbing. She's covering her face. My heart sinks.
"Stella? What's wrong, dear?"
"N-nothing... I just... I just..." Try as she might she can't suppress the tears.
I grab her up in a bundle with the rag and bring her to eye level. "There must be something, little one. You're bawling. Whatever it is, you can tell me."
She pulls her face out of the blanket and looks at me with reddened eyes. "I... It's hard to explain... I just feel bad when you're so kind to me. Like I'm not a very good friend in return. Like I don't deserve it. And--" She swallows nervously and glances away.
"And?"
"I'm a-afraid one day you'll tire of c-carrying my burden and... and you'll abandon me."
I close my eyes and sigh softly. I understand her plight. I also hate to feel useless and powerless. But I need her to know that it's not her fault, and that I would never, ever abandon her.
With the tip of my pinky I bring her chin up to meet my gaze. "You're small, but precious. You need help to do things that others do easily. But it doesn't mean you're worth any less than them. You're like a sister to me and I will *always* take care of you, no matter what."
"Really?" The sobbing is gone from her voice. She looks almost awed.
"Mhmm." I nod.
She relaxes and hugs into my nearby finger. "Oh, Marion. I'm... I'm glad to call you sister."
"Good," I smile and move my hand in to give her a friendly kiss. She giggles as my soft lips envelop her face. "Now I think it's about time we got some sleep."
"I agree."
After blowing out the lamp, I lay back in bed, and shuffle underneath the covers. Usually Stella sleeps on the pillow by my shoulder, but this time I place her on my chest, just above my bosom. She gets comfortable there, held securely between my dress and my hand.
"Good night," I whisper down to her. Then I add, "I love you."
She nuzzles into me, "I love you too... big sister."
We both giggle.
Tomorrow I will wake before the madame and return Stella to the cage. Her trials and my labor will begin anew. But in this moment we are together and all is perfect.