Young Writers Society

~1,079 Words

Ivy’s town was made of metal. Gears clacked their teeth at her as she walked down the street. The sun was a light bulb with a tungsten tongue flicking electrical flames through the sky. Her friends and neighbors walked by, and Ivy put a hand up to wave before realizing they were all automatons. She slowly lowered her hand, but as it passed in front of her face, she saw her own flesh was metal. She bent her fingers experimentally, and they clinked and clacked. Then, against her will, Ivy’s hand reached down and opened the metal door that used to be her chest. It reached inside and pulled out a hunk of iron. With horror, Ivy realized it was her own beating heart.

Ivy sat straight up in bed, covered in sweat. She pressed her now-flesh-and-bone hand against her chest, just to be sure her heart was still where it should be. She climbed out of bed, and walked into the store’s front room. The flowers would calm her jangling nerves.

--

Grey wandered through the empty streets. This was his favorite time of night, or rather, morning. The only buildings with lit windows were the bakeries. Grey reveled in the chill that the night breeze brushed across his face. He had taken to wandering the streets soon after he became a lamp-lighter. He was expected to be awake for both lighting and extinguishing after all. He slept odd hours.

As he stepped into the pool of light spilling from a bakery window, Grey caught a whiff of the most delightful bread he had ever smelled. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he’d skipped dinner that night so he could show Nikki and Ivy the machines. Grey tried the door but it was locked. Here, the freshly-baked bread smell was even stronger. He knocked. No one answered. Grey pounded at the door.

--

She hadn’t noticed the sound right away. It was almost too faint to hear, but in the absolute quiet of the night, Ivy heard a sort of high-pitched moaning. She poked her head out the door and the sound became much louder: it sounded like an animal in pain. She scouted around outside, and discovered that the sound seemed to be coming from behind her shop, in her backyard vegetable garden. She thought she’d pinpointed the source of the sound near her pumpkin plants, but Ivy couldn’t see anything that would make it. She moved the leaves around, and her fingers brushed fur. Then she saw the two yellow eyes staring up at her from a very black cat. The mewling had quieted to a low whine.

“It’s okay,” said Ivy. She gingerly scooped her hands beneath the animal. “Let’s get you inside.”

--

Grey looked around, but could see no one at all.

“C’mon Gidgit,” he said to his little invention. “Think you can pick it?” He placed the spider-like device over the bakery door’s lock.

Gidgit skittered around the knob, inserting needle-like legs into the lock. It fiddled around for a while before something clicked and Gidgit twisted. The door was unlocked.

“Thanks, buddy!” whispered Grey as Gidgit darted back under his lapel. He was mildly impressed. He hadn't taught Gidgit how to pick a lock. He wondered how the machine had picked up such a skill.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and tiptoed to the back of the bakery, where the smell was coming from. He found a very warm kitchen, heated by a brick oven and completely deserted. The baker was nowhere to be seen. But on the counter was some kind of mix of flour, sugar, and spices. Perhaps the baker had run out of eggs or something. Grey spied a pile of warm, fresh loaves. Surely the baker wouldn’t notice if just one was missing.

--

Ivy carefully laid the cat on a clean table in her shop, and lit the lamp. The cat’s black fur was matted with blood, and several long scrapes and scratches laced its body. Its ear was ripped and it had burs tangled into its fur and between its toes.

“Oh no, kitty,” said Ivy. “That looks like it hurts.”

The cat just mewled. Ivy began tugging burs out of its fur.

“Have you been fighting? Are you a brave tom cat trying to find a lady?” Ivy checked, and it was indeed a tom cat. “You were so hard to see in the dark. You were like a ghost in the night, weren’t you, ghostie-kit?”

Ivy removed the last of the burs. “There. Your feet should feel much better. Now this next part might hurt a bit, but we have to clean the scratches or it will only get worse.” She stood to grab a cup of water.  She dribbled this on the cat’s smallest scratch. It its muscles twitched but it otherwise held still.

“That’s it, Ghost,” Ivy breathed, patting the wound dry with a clean rag. “Just hold still.” Ivy worked her way up to the worst of the cuts. This one was long and deep. She sucked in her breath and poured the water. Ghost’s side flinched and he yowled. “I know, I know, Ghost. I know.”

--

Too drunk with the delicious scents of bread to think properly, Grey grabbed a loaf and hid it under his cloak. Holding it close to his side, the soft loaf warmed his body. Grey locked the door, left the bakery, and was a block away in barely a blink of an eye. When he felt he was far enough away from the bakery to avoid any suspicious gazes that might fall his way, he ducked into an alleyway and uncloaked the loaf of bread. His mouth watered as he took in the perfect flaky crust. He could wait no more, and he devoured half the loaf on the spot. It was the best bread he had ever had the chance to eat. And the taste was enhanced by the adrenaline thrill of a perfectly executed heist. Grey grinned to himself. He hadn’t expected that his nightly wander would be this delicious or this much fun.