Robert Godberson

Arts of NYC

Historical Fiction Assignment

19 December 2017

Agni

The sunlight danced across my dry skin as my fingers curled around the edges of my rough sheets and I awoke. The morning was cold and brisk, better than others, however still just as unenticing and cold. My neck strained from underneath my pillow as my body reluctantly strained to rise from my small 12 by 10 bed mattress. The bones in my ankles and feet cracked as I lifted my legs out from under the sheets and struggled in the early dawn to find my footing on the rough wooden floor. My eyes still adjusting to the morning glow, I looked over at my sisters face, her head cocked sideways on the pillow, as she mumbled tiny sounds snores while she slept. Her fiery red hair consumed her tiny freckled face, and each curl bounced up and down to the rhythm of her small, sleeping body. Of course, it was my job to wake her, as mother was probably already in the kitchen preparing what little we have to eat together before me and Agni had to leave for the day.

“Edme! Get up- get up, now!”

Ugh, my mother was already beginning her morning roar, before I even had the chance to show her I was already awake. Half my body still planted on the hard mattress I called bak,

“Mama, I KNOW. Just a second, please.”

She reliped, “Dressed now!I let you sleep later than usual and you know how long Agni will take if you don’t get her started soon!”.

Sigh, she was right. Agni had a way of never being ready when  you wanted her to be. Id probably have to wrestle her into her dress again and un out of time to tie her full mane of hair back if I didn’t hurry up.

I reached under my bed for the drawer that contained all of me and my sister’s clothes. Skirt, blouse, stockings, undershirt, underwear, socks. Our attire, and uniform for the day. In the kitchen on the hook next to the door is where our woolen coats hung, Agni’s being passed down from me, and mine from my mother when she bought it back in Ireland.

I wet my face quickly from the bucket of still water we keep in the corner of the room, and dressed swiftly. My hair, unlike Agni’s, is a simple brown. It’s only a bit past shoulder length, although I wish it was shorter, and gets tied back before my day in the factory. Dressed in everything besides my shoes, it is time to wake up Agni.

“Hey, my love, its time to get up”, I whisper to her as a shake her small shoulder.

“Agni, I mean it, now”. Im almost giggling as she begins to stir, and her face flips around in a fiery twirl of flaming red hair to reveal her drooling, freckly face. Her eyes still not open, I shake her again

“Agni, really, I’m not kidding this time, you need to get up now”. Still with no response I decide on using a threat.

“You know, I guess I’ll just go to the kitchen and have the bread to myself if you don’t want to listen….”.

Her eyes still shut she mumbles the words , “Wait….”

I laugh. “What?”

She stirs, “I’m up. I’m just….. resting my eyes.”

One of her usual jokes.

“Agni, if you don’t get up now, ill just have to… “

“Edme, please, I was having a really good dream. Can you wake me up… ahh”, she yawns, “in five minutes? Please … Edme, I just-“

“No!, I exclaim. I’m never one to want to interrupt a good dream, but we were already late, and in all honesty, I knew mother wouldn’t let me as much as look at the bread until I got her up and ready.

“Ughhhhh”, she moaned. With great reluctance, she picked up her tiny lioness head from the pillow, each freckle on her porcelain faces sparkling in the dancing rays of the rising sun.

“Sorry about the dream, but mama says we are already late. Now c’mon, I just laid out your clothes.”

Skirt , blouse, stockings, undershirt, underwear, socks. The same as me. Two girls, two identical uniforms, and 1 long day ahead of them.

I helped her dress, struggling to get her flimsy stockings from making their way over her unwilling legs. Agni hated getting dressed, but mostly only because of what it meant. She would do anything to slow down the process it took us to get out the door and on our way. I knew she was nine, and by the time I was her age I was already doing all of these things by myself, dressing, waking, and walking the streets. But Agni had always been special to me. She was mine, and I was hers. It was impossible not to feel like her protector, not only because I was an older sister, but because she was so unique. Her red hair being the most obvious aspect about her, everything about Agni was so different than what I was when I was her age, and even now. Her crazy spirit, her sense of exploration, her nerve, and even charisma. It was impossible not to fall in love with her charm and spitting wit. Agni was special, and I always knew I would never know someone quite like her, my love, my little sister.

 

Soon enough we were in the kitchen, and Mama was twirling around the counter, throwing together a plate of a slice from the loaf and a stout glass of water for each of us.

“Coats, girls, don’t forget them on the hook”, Mama exclaimed from over the oven trying to warm the apartment in the cold morning air. “Papa will be back before dusk tonight, I hope, so don’t worry, there will more wood for later. The fire just won’t seem to start.”

“Mama”, Agni muttered, “What would happen if I didn’t have to go in today?”.

Again, her usual morning retort. This was the point during breakfast at which she would ask mama, “Why do we have to go?”, and Mama would give her the same answer as always.

“Because, Agni, you have to.”

Her response was met with a groan. “UGH, but Mama today I just don’t-“

“Stop it Agni, I’m not having this conversation again!” Mother rumbled, “Every girl your age from around her has to because if you didn’t, what would you be doing? If I have to stay home and sew all day, and papa wakes up before the sun even rises to go out and find work, and still we hardly have enough money to buy more than 2 loafs a week, you and your sister must do your part as well. That is the only way.”

Mother’s long-winded explanation had become so mundane at this point I felt as if I could repeat every word myself. Ofcourse I felt the same way, but there was no use to give into Agni’s reluctance; What good would it do to stress my mother even more? It’s easier to just accept reality, and not question it. Agni, however, never felt the same way.

“Fine, but I just-“, Agni started.

“No buts!”, Mother cut in. “Now, I have toostart hemming Mrs. Loramer’s dress before she comes to pick it up, and finish the other 15 clients I have today. So go put your plate in the sink and  follow your sister to grab your coat.”

That was my cue to finish up what I was eating and rush Agni along to the door. Getting up from my seat, I dropped off my plate, grabbed both mine and Agni’s coats, and caught her looking at me from the table. We locked eyes ,I shared with he a look that said, “It’s okay.”

She smiled.

All it took was one look, and without words, she always knew what I was saying.

With that, she got up, pulled on her coat, and after a kiss and farewell from my Mama, we were off. In my pocket was the slip of paper I carried in my coat pocket everyday. On it was my name,

Edme McCoy, my age, 14 years old, and in large font on the top, “Triangle Shirtwaist Factory”. I grabbed Agni’s hand, and before stepping out the door I said, “You have your slip?”. She dug into her pocket, feeling around for it.

“Yes.”, she replied.

And with that, we were off.

The date was, March 25, 1911.

    —————————————————–

“Miles!”, I screamed.

It was a hot underneath my coat despite the  crisp cold of the city air cutting my face as I walked.

“How are you today”, he said as he whipped his head around from just a couple paces ahead of us. My hand was tightly wrapped around Agni’s as I struggled to drag her along, pushing to catch up with his quick stride.

“Fine, tired of course. Maybe a little more excited than Agni is”, motioning down to my sister dragging her feet on the ground.

“Likewise”, he responded. “But today I feel better than usual.”

Confused, I ask, “Why so?”.

“I think this is my last week.”

Shocked, I inquire , “What? Why? You’re leaving?”. Miles and I had been going to the factory together for almost 5 years. Of course I had other acquaintances, but Miles had been my closest. Suddenly, it fell upon me why it was that he would probably be leaving so soon.

“My father is trying to find work for me with him down by the dock. Besides, I’m too big for the factory now. I’m actually excited, but none of the dock stuff sounds any fun if you ask me. He says im becoming a “man”, but that makes me uncomfortable. I just want to get out of the factory, I would do anything to leave, but working with him sounds awful. Well I guess not as awful as this. Who knows. Sorry, I’m talking to much again.”

He did have the habit of doing so. It was endearing however, something I would miss.

“Miles, you’re lucky.”, Agni chimed in. She was looking up at him from a good 2 feet below, still walking next to me on the sidewalk.

“Oh, am i? I guess your right, Agni. Sorry you can’t come with me.”

“Me too”, she sighed. “Maybe once  you’re gone Miss Geraldine will let me leave my position and take yours moving and sorting the shirts.”

We both laughed. “Agni, I don’t think so.”, he said. “But I think she’s gonna need your little fingers on the machines for now.”

“What fingers.” she retorted. “I can hardly FEEL them by the end of the week, right Edme!”

I just looked at he with a smile. “Stop now, we are almost going in. Youl’l survive, we all will.”

She looked back up at with me her giant, greenish blue eyes, like two sparkling lily pads swimming in a small pool of serene clear blue. I looked back, giving her another look of “It will be okay”, and also a little of “stop it”, because a frown isn’t going to get her anywhere once we get inside.

“I’ll miss you all though. No worries, it won’t be for another week. We still have plenty of time for you to appreciate how amazing I am.” Miles sarcastically sneered.

Laughing, I responded “Of course, what would I do without Magnificent Miles!”

“Hey, maybe one day you will see me doing what I really want, being a writer for one of those neat newspapers or something, and not hauling cruddy sacks of who knows what down by a smelly dock.”

If only any of us could truly follow what we wanted to do, I thought to myself.

Just before stepping up onto the stairs, Agni shook my arm vigorously,

“Edme, my dream, I never told you my dream!”, she exclaimed.

Of course, just before walking through the doors of the factory she has to come up with some distraction.

“Agni, not now.”, I say, dragging her along.

“No really, just quick before we go inside and I forget”, she says.

I look at her, sigh, and roll my eyes. “Fine.”, I say. “But make it quick. Miles, you can go ahead, I’ll see you in there.” Miles proceeds up the stairs with a wave, and I look back at Agni with a pressed look that says “hurry up”.

“Okay”, she starts. “I dreamt that I was in Ireland, that I was running around the fields of grass and playing with the wooden dolls you talked about having when you were little.”

I looked at her skeptically. “But Agni, you’ve never-“

“I know I’ve never been there, but it was like I was you. I could see our old house on the cliff that you and mama always talk about the funny cows eating the grass around me and even papa making his little wooden figurines and wiggling or whatever”

“Whittling”, I correct her.

“It was so warm, the beautiful, and everything was so bright, “not a cloud in the sky”, just like you always say it was like. And you were there, Edme, you were there, but in the distance and I was running toward you and I could feel you there, the sun was so bright and I was so happy and I really felt like I was in Ireland, I really did!”

Agni was born just before our family moved to America. Although she had in fact been to Ireland, she was only 8 or 9 months old when we had left, and the only memories or ideas she had of it were from what me, my mother, or father would tell her.

“Isn’t that amazing! And just before I got to you, all I could see was your eyes, and then you woke me up! You looked so happy though Edme. And it made me think, maybe I will go to Ireland. Maybe im gonna go there soon.”

I looked at her with melancholy smile. Her little optimistic voice filled me with so much sadness and nostalgia that I just looked at her in grief that she would never know what Ireland is really like. She would never understand that to go there would be too expensive, and that It would never be possible. Once you come here, you don’t go back.  With a swollen heart, all I could muster was,

“Yes, maybe someday.”

“Soon?”, she asked.

“Maybe.”

It was then that I looked up at he double doors leading in to the factory, the doors flooding with kids from all ages, dressed just like Agni and I, prepared to start another day.
“Okay have your card ready. We are going in.”

With a tight grasp of my hand and suddle sigh, Agni and I trudged up the stairs, entering the warm stale environment of the place we considered our second home. We put down our cards in the attendance basket, mine reading Edme Mccoy and hers Agnus Anne Mccoy, her full given name.  We went straight to the stair well, hands still locked together until I had to let go and watch  her turn around the door that said “3”, her floor for the day with all of the other girls her age. As I climbed up to the 8th, I thought about her dream and how strange it was. Just another thing I loved about my sister, her imagination. In the distance I heard the clock chime 8 o’clock, and ran to my station, forgetting the worries of my little sister and of a home far, far away.

————————————————-

It all started fast, like an avalanche, except hotter.

I looked around in fury, fear encompassing every once of my soul. My lungs turned to my paper, my cheeks turned to ice, and my feet turn to stone.

Agni.

Where is Agni.

 

I hear the screams, screams from every end of every corner of the room. Screams in my head, in my ears, in my throat, in the back of my eyes to point where I can’t even see anymore, hear anymore, feel anymore-

 

I am block of ice, frozen solid, stuck in the eye of a hurricane of fire.

Looking from where I stood, all I could see was the eruption from the other side of the room. Like tsunami, a wall of flames had erupted and was making its way up the walls and across the room towards where I stood. The air was quickly becoming a solid cloud of smoke, blinding every one of my sense from operating. Consumed with fear, I was now blind, deaf, and paralyzed. My hand was white as snow, but drenched like in sweat like the northern sea. I felt nothing, and became a prisoner to the army of flames around me. I stood still as stone as the light around my eyes closed in, and I allowed to darkness to consume my soul. Slowly, silently, and peacefully, I began to let go.

A hand.

A felt a hand futilely wrap around mine.

Shockwaves course through my veins and my eyes rocket open.

Miles.

“C’mon! C’mon, c’mon Now, Edme please, move, Edme!-“

I gasp, my tissue paper lungs vacuuming in the stale, burnt, poison air.

“Agni”, is all I can mutter.

“She’s down on 3, we will get her too if you move quickly”

Agni, Agni is all I can think. And suddenly, I am awake.

I look at Miles, then down at my dirty, tarnished boots, then back up at him. His eyes are like tw osapphire pools, melting down his face amongst the scalding ring of fire surrounding us.

“Agni”, Isay one las time, and suddenly I’m running as fast I can.

 

Ahead of me is the door to the stairway. All of the girls on my floor had evacuated, and only a few were trailing ahead of us by the time I reached the head of the steps. My feet turned to lighting, carrying me faster down those flights than my body could process. During all of this I hadn’t let go of Miles hand, as he somehow kept with me as my body soared down the flights at rapid pace. It was impossible to move, however, despite the crowds of people packed into the stairwell, I interweaved my body through the hoards, like a thread coursing through the eye of needle. I can’t help but push, shove, and barrel my way through the people ahead of me like a savage beast fighting for its life. I was. I was fighting for my life, but what carried my body down those stairs at light speed was the life of my sister.

 

I reached for the flight of the third floor. The door was open, and my body burst inside, Miles still behind me.

“AGNI!”, I screamed.

Louder, “AGNI!”

I shrieked, every ounce of my soul leaving my lungs, “AGNI!”

“Edme-“

I whip around, and there she is. He red hair sticking out in all directions, the eruption of scarlet curls  glowing against the cindering red backdrop of flames.

“Agni!”, I sigh in tremendous relief. There she was, my sister, my everything, surrounded in a forest of fire. My arms fly outward, and I scream “C’mon!”.

I look into my sisters luminescent green eyes.

“Agni”, I say once more.

My sisters pale skin shone like the ice white foam of the irish sea.

I look at her, from head to toe: she is glowing.

“Agni.”

My sister isn’t moving.

I look around, at all of the fire. I am confused, shocked, and scared. I am hot, like a furnace freshly packed with dry wood. I look down again at my feet, my boots dark and sooty, the veins of the cracked in leather shining bright.

I look up one last time at Agni. She looks so calm, so settled. Her eyes matching mine. We look at each other, locked eyes, connected as one.

Without moving any lips, I hear her say, “It’s okay.”

It’s gonna be okay…

I  look back at Miles. Hes still holding my hand. His eyes calm, the soothing blue lakes drawing me in. I look at Agni, and her tiny arm is extended out to mine. I walked forward across the room and reach her hand. Looking at her, shes never looked more beautiful, so young and innocent. Never has she looked more vivacious than right now.

Suddenly I start to question everything that has happened. How did I manage to run down those stairs so quickly without, as if the hundreds of girls running down them as well as had moved out of my way? How did Miles find me amongst all of the smoke and fire? Why is Agni the only girl left on this floor, and why hasn’t she fled down the staircase? What is the last thing I remember before Miles grabbed my hand….

It is then that I realize the fire is gone.

No longer are we surrounded by a wall of flames. The red ember waves that consumed the room seemed to have disappeared. How was I breathing all of this time? It was as if the air had been cloudd. The cloud of smoke was gone. Was the fire over? But I was still here.

 

I was still here, but I could smell home. I could smell the fresh dew on the morning grass and the dandelion seeds getting stuck on my nose as the fresh northern air blew through the fields. I could hear the roaring waves coming from the ocean as they battered the cool icy sand of the bluffs. I heard the sound of the birds cooing and quenching relief of an icy cold glass of fresh milk from the cows in the barn. I could hear mama in the kitchen roasting the vegetables fresh form the Irish soil we had laid in the backyard, and papa with on his oak chair whittling away at his next masterpiece.  I saw the clear blue sky around me, and in the eyes of my sister and my friend. The colors of my home, and my love.

 

With one hand in Miles’s, and the other my sisters, I felt alive. I looked at my sister and smiled, her eyes huge and happy. With my eyes, I say

 

“I love you.

It’s gonna be okay.”

Her looks back into mine with the rich blue green of a land far away, and they whisper,

“We’re home.”

THE END