Servent Boy, HenryImage may be NSFW.
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This is where I live. No, I don’t have rich parents. I suppose my parents are either dead, or maybe they just didn’t want us.
It was two years ago when my sis and I were found wandering the streets of Asheville, North Carolina. It was November, 1897. The snow had begun to fall. We were freezing and had no food. The house where we had lived was empty—no food, no heat. And no parents. What happened to them? I may never know.
I just knew I had to find food for Lucy and me. We were walking down Market Street when a guy with a big black mustache stopped and asked about us. Lucy was scared and hiding behind me. “What’s your name, son?” he said.
“Name’s Henry, and this here is my sis, Lucy.”
I told the man that we hadn’t seen our parents in like a year. Maybe it wasn’t that long, but it sure seemed like it.
“So, what are you going to do?” he asked. “You both look like you need food and some better clothes. Those shoes you’re wearing, Henry, are about five sizes too big.”
“Yeah, I guess. They were my dad’s. I found them in his closet after he and Mom left us.”
“Where did they go?”
I ducked my head and stuck my hands in my britches. “Don’t know. They just disappeared one day. We ain’t seen ‘em since.”
The man asked if we’d like to come and work for him at his big house. I looked up at him. “You got food there?”
That was two years ago. He was right; that house really is big. My room is in the attic, but Lucy’s is on the third floor. I work in the garden—that’s my job. And, believe me, that garden is big! Me and another boy about my age, we till the ground, plant the vegetables, weed the area, and harvest the food. My sis works in the kitchen down in the basement. She washes dishes, takes out the garbage, and mops the floors. She tells me the lady in charge is mean to her, yells at her, and even slapped her face once.
I try to keep my mouth shut and just do what they ask. I mean, this is sure better than not having any food and freezing in that old house back on Eagle Street. So we eat good, have a warm bed, and a lady is schoolin’ us most afternoons. I’ve learned to read and write, but math is hard for me. Now Lucy, I don’t think she’s learnin’ much. I’d help her, but we hardly ever see each other.
I’ve learned that man who picked us up and brought us here, well, his name is Mr. Vanderbilt. He’s a nice man. He came in my room yesterday and sat down next to my bed. I think he likes me. We talked, and he told me he was trying to find our parents. “You’re a good worker, Henry,” he said. “If we don’t find your mom or dad, you’re welcome to just stay on here as long as you want.”
They’re calling this big house the Biltmore. I can see that. It looks like he just keeps on building on more and more. They say there are hundreds of rooms. I’ve never been on most floors, so I wouldn’t know.
I also still don’t know where our parents are, so I don’t know if I should be angry or sad. But for now, me and Lucy are doin’ okay. We’ve got food, and this house has heat and even lights they call electric. No one I ever knew had them. I can’t complain.
Copyright September, 2014
618 words
Eldon Reed
