Through the red velvet curtain at the top of the stairs the gentleman led June to a large windowless room. The sight momentarily surprised her. Along the walls opposite the entrance and to her left, floor to ceiling shelving filled with an array of beautiful fabrics. By the opening an old antique bookcase, modified with hundreds of spindles all containing a rainbow of threads of varying thickness and makes. Around the room, several models of sewing machines sat idle. What it was this gentleman could do for June had her very worried.
“Come, this way. We’ll have you cleaned up in no time.”
June followed through the black velvet curtain to her right, into a room vastly difference to the other. White tiled walls and floor, an operating table against the back wall, and medical equipment of all shapes and sized adorned every corner of the room. Guided to the chair in the centre and instructed to sit, June attempted to speak but her throat constricted and the pain stopped her.
“Let me get you something to drink.”
The gentleman filled a glass with water, handing it too June. The first swallow was excruciating but June drank it down. When she handed the glass back, June gingerly cleared her throat and in a whisper asked, “Are you a doctor?”
The gentleman placed the glass by the sink and wheeled over a tray of sterilised waddings and solutions. He pulled his stool on wheels close and sat down in front of June.
“I was once. Now, I fix things. You can call me, The Tailor.”
The Tailor rolled his chair to a small desk and opening a diary, he asked, “Do you think you can answer a few questions for me?”
June nodded sure she could mouth her words if needed.
“What’s your name?”
“June Ines.”
Her voice was hoarse, and the pain continued to make June reluctant to speak out again.
“How old are you?”
June did not answer immediately, waiting for The Tailor to look at her. When he did, June mouthed, “Nineteen.”
“And what power have you? Fire, Water, Air or Earth?”
June hesitated a moment; unsure if it was something she should be telling him.
“Inferno would not have brought you to me if you weren’t a Special. You can trust me.”
Years of being told to keep hidden her power pulled on June’s emotions. Trust did not come easy and never had she confided in anyone about her power. Yet trusting The Tailor seemed right.
“Water,” she mouthed.
The Tailor nodded, wrote it in his book, then rolled his chair over to June and holding out his hands indicated for June to give her hands to him. June still had her arms wrapped across her front; her embarrassment at being exposed made her reluctant to hold her hand out.
“Oh, you need a new shirt, I see.”
The Tailor stood, left through the black velvet curtain returning a moment later with a pale blue silk top.
“Put this on. Let me know when you’re done.”
He left again, giving June privacy to remove her torn shirt. Grateful for The Tailor’s courtesy, at that moment June could have used his assistance regardless of her situation. She struggled to find the energy to change as the effort to remove her damaged shirt brought a wave of nausea. Bent forward on the chair, she waiting for the sensation to dissipate before she could sit back up. June used her discarded shirt to remove the excess blood from her hands before attempting to put on the clean top. Her muscles burned as she pulled the silk top over her head and she once again was forced to bend over, head between her legs, for fear of passing out.
Unsure how much time had passed, she opened her eyes and stared down towards her ankles. The smell on her soiled knees a reminder of the incident in the alley forced June from the chair almost tearing the stockings from her body. Once removed, she placed them on the floor next to her shirt and shoes, and fell back into the chair. Exhaustion overwhelmingly consumed June as she slumped once more, head between her legs.
The touch of a hand on her back and the gentle assistance from The Tailor’s helped June to rise. He sat on his stool and attended to June’s abrasions. Through drowsy eyes June noticed the blush and pink lip-gloss he wore. A small smile tugged her lips and reassurance engulfed her at his appearance.
“Thank you for mending me,” June whispered.
The Tailor beamed, “My pleasure young lady. If only all those who came to see me were as in so less a need of attention as you are. My job would be so much easier.”
Under different circumstances, June’s curiosity would have wanted to understand more about the man before her. Instead, June remained quiet, watching The Tailor mend her wounds. With her hands and knees cleaned and bandaged, The Tailor straightened and studied the bruising now evident around June’s neck.
“Sad business this, sad business. May I be allowed to examine your neck and shoulders?”
June nodded and as The Tailor reached out and gently touched around her neck, June flinched. He paused, and then wheeled around on his chair as he placed gentle pressure over the bruising.
“You didn’t use your power?” he asked.
“Only a little. I was taught to suppress my power,” June whispered.
The Tailor shook his head and said nothing as he continued to inspect June’s neck.
“Bruised muscles. Be sore for a few weeks. You need to rest. No work. Plenty of fluids. Try to stay clear of solid food unless chewed up finely for the next day or two. Nothing I give you will help you heal any faster but I can give you something to help you sleep.”
He came to sit in front of June once more, his expression forlorn.
“What do I owe you for my visit?” June asked attempting to avoid the anxiety triggered by his expression.
“Owe. You owe me nothing my dear. My service to you is complimentary.”
Tears began to fall down June’s face, overwhelmed once again at what was happening to her.
“There, there now. Don’t go getting yourself upset. It’s going to be difficult with your throat bruised and damaged as it is. Leave the crying until you’re better.”
June nodded, but the tears continued. She tried to take in a deep breath but the pain made it difficult.
“Here you go.”
The Tailor placed in June’s hand a small plastic pill bottle. “Don’t take them until you’re home in bed. They’ll make you drowsy and help you to sleep until your throat gets better. Until then, it’s fluids as often as you can. You need to keep hydrated. I’m sorry I can’t do any more.”
June shook her head and taking The Tailor’s hand, squeezed it and mouthed, thank you.
The Tailor picked up June’s items from the floor and placed them in a plastic bag.
“I’ll help you back downstairs. Ready?”
June nodded, allowing The Tailor to assist her. Only now did the stress from her ordeal consume her. What she wanted more than anything was to curl up in bed but the more pressing matter of no longer having work impacted her life in many ways that pained her more than her physical injuries. Without work she couldn’t afford her apartment or her operation. All her hard work had been snatched away from her and she didn’t know what she would do.
They slowly made their way down the stairs and to June’s surprised and relief, Inferno waited for her. She came forward and took June from The Tailor without a word before guiding June from the laundromat and into the waiting car. Inside the warm confined vehicle June closed her eyes as exhaustion took over.
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