Madeline
by Maria Arenas

My name is Madeline, just Madeline. The rest isn’t important. I live in Paris with Miss Clavel and eleven other girls. You see, none of us have mommies or daddies, but that’s all right ‘cause we have Miss Clavel, and she’s all we need. And each other of course, we’re like sisters. Except we’re all different sizes and colors and shapes and all. I’m the smallest. Except no, there’s Mary Lou. She shrunk so I ‘spose she’s the smallest now. People say I have red hair, but I know they’re wrong. If they looked close enough, they’d see it was really orange, like the clementines we see as we walk by the market. We always go on walks, Miss Clavel, the other girls, and myself. That’s when it all started. That’s why I have this funny looking scar on my stomach.

I remember it so clearly, like it happened yesterday or even just a second ago. It was real pretty outside. Miss Clavel was pointing out the birds to us, telling us all sorts of names that none of us were gonna remember. The sun was so strong, I had to squint and put my hand up to my forehead, so that I looked like a captain scouting the navy seas. I liked it; I got into it.

“Ahoy!” I said, standing up stick straight. That is, until I felt a sharp pain right here, on my stomach. I folded inwards, like a little beetle. It felt like a knife jabbing into me, as if pirates had come aboard my ship and were swinging their swords. It hurt so much, I almost keeled over onto the ground. But Betsy caught me, and called for Miss Clavel, who swooped me up into her arms, so I could smell the lavender perfume on her neck. By that time, the pain had disappeared and all that was left as evidence that it had happened were all the girls crowding around me, their eyebrows knotted together in concern. I smiled and said it was alright, jumping out of Miss Clavel’s arms and landing neatly, like a gymnast, on the flagstone ground to prove it.

That night it was normal routine; we ate, brushed our teeth, and were tucked into bed. With a chorus of voices sleepily saying “Goodnight Miss Clavel,” she was out the door. The only light left in the room was from the moonbeams shining through the window. I started to hum, like I did every night. This sweet, light tune that Miss Clavel taught me one day.

That day that she found me, that day that was cold and grey and rainy and I was all alone. She was holding a big bag of groceries, almost spilling over with fresh fruits and vegetables. Not to mention those thick, warm loaves of bread Monsieur Finn bakes every morning. She saw me with my yellow ribbon wet and limp against my head, my shoes in tatters and my feet soaking wet. I looked terrible. Now that I think about it, it’s pretty embarrassing. But she didn’t even stop to think. She took my dirty, grimy hand, bent down to my eye level, and asked me for my name.

“Madeline,” I said shyly. She smiled, the most beautiful smile I had  ever seen. Her teeth were like pearls, the kind I used to see in the windows of the shops the beautiful ladies walked into.

“Madeline,” she repeated. It sounded like a word in a song, the way she said it. Then I smiled for the first time in forever. I liked the feeling of it, the way it stretched your skin and pulled up on the corners of your mouth. Then she started to sing a song. I stopped smiling, so I could concentrate. It was so beautiful, like everything of hers was, that I wanted to remember it forever. I asked her for the name of it. She thought for a second, and then shrugged.

“I don’t know about the name, but I do know that it’s magical. Sing this song, little Madeline, and you won’t ever have to be afraid.” I remember everything up until there, and then this weird fog spreads in my memory, and I can’t remember the rest. I don’t like how time does that, fogs things up I mean. But then again, I guess I do because I don’t want to remember any of that awful stuff that happened to me before Miss Clavel rescued me. So I guess I should say thank you, Time, for dulling down the pain.

Anyways, there I was, in the moonlit room trying to sing myself to sleep.When all of a sudden, completely out of nowhere, there’s that sharp pain again. But this time it hurts more, and I can’t stop it. And pretty much against my will, a long low moaning sound escapes my throat, waking a few girls up. Whispers of concern quickly circulated around the room and wide eyes with long lashes tried to peer through the darkness to see what was happening to me. I started to get dizzy. Either that, or the bed really did slip from under me, and I really was sinking through the ground. Until those warm arms grabbed me, held me tightly like they would never let go.

“Madeline, Madeline what’s wrong? Madeline, can you answer me? Madeline?” I couldn’t move my mouth, it felt like mush on my face. And my eyes, they wouldn’t open. They were squeezed shut. Time oozed on, and all I could think about was that pain pinching my insides, growing and growing and never getting better. But I do remember being wrapped up in something warm and fuzzy. Something that smelled like hospital, something that brought me right back to that day when Miss Clavel brought me in to see the doctor. He had looked at those purple tinted pools on my skin, sometimes poking at the ones that were turning murky green. He shined a light in my eyes, looked in my ears as if he were searching for treasure. I tried to tell him he wouldn’t find anything, but then he pulled a coin out of nowhere and I thought maybe I did have treasure in my ears. He laughed until I tried to dig around there and find some for myself. Then he snatched away my hand and told me never to do that, that I would lose my hearing or something silly like that. That was almost as silly as him looking in my ear for treasure, but then I remembered that he had found that coin after all, and I stopped digging. I think he was tired of me by the end, the way his arms sagged at his sides and his shoulders were just a little bit too forwards. But then he handed me a small stuffed bunny, and said that I had been good. I looked up at Miss Clavel.  “You hear that, Miss Clavel? I’ve been good!”
I woke up to the smell of plaster and soap. Hovering over me was a plump woman, her face puckered up and worried, clucking her tongue as she arranged the blankets around my legs. I blinked, and stared at her for a second, waiting for her to notice. but she kept going, as if I were a doll that she expected to stay still as porcelain and never speak again. I sat up very suddenly, giving her the surprise of her life I think, ‘cause she ran out of the room calling “Doctor! Doctor!” Then a man rushed in, dressed in one of those long white coats that almost trailed on the ground. He flashed a light in my eyes, peered in my mouth, and even searched in my ears. This time I knew to stay still. He mumbled a few things, and scribbled some stuff on a notepad, then rushed out the room while at the same time, ushering someone in. It was Miss Clavel. Her steps were graceful and light, so that it almost seemed like she was gliding right above the ground on her own personal cloud. I couldn’t help but smile, she looked like an angel.

She didn’t smile back though. Instead she came to my side and asked, “Madeline, are you feeling alright?” I rolled my eyes, I was getting tired of having people worry about me all the time. She smiled at that, and kissed me on the forehead. She pulled a chair over to the side of my hard hospital bed and we spoke for a while. Mostly about little things, like how all the girls were so concerned about me, and how Monsieur Finn sent me flowers and here they were. Mostly I just smiled and nodded, happy just to see Miss Clavel.  Then she said something crazy, something I almost couldn’t believe. She lifted up my shirt, and right there on my stomach was a weird little scar. It was just a line, just a simple old line. But I had a birthmark right near the end so to me it looked more like a musical note. She told me that they had opened me up right there and taken out that thing that was hurting me so bad. She said that I didn’t even notice because they had put me into some weird sleep. She made it sound like science, but I knew it was really magic. That all the love of my sisters and Miss Clavel had helped me get those pirates off my ship.

That night, before my nurse switched off my light and I was lying in bed, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. Right up on the ceiling, was a bunny. I swear it. It was sprawled up there, bigger than me. It looked like a mistake in the painting of the room, but to me it was no mistake. I ran my finger over the little hill of skin that made my scar. I had been good.
The rest of the story isn’t much. Miss Clavel came with all eleven of my sisters. They brought me the most beautiful flowers!  “From Monsieur Finn,” they said, smiling.

Miss Clavel placed them all around me. “A little taste of sunshine,” she said. I stood up on the bed, lifting my shirt up so they could see my stomach. A chain of gasps sounded in the room as each one of them took turns looking at it. I told them the whole story of how they had cut me open, taken out that evil little organ, and then sewed me right back up again. They stared at me amazed, calling me strong and brave and giving me hugs and apologies that they hadn’t come sooner. That they had wanted to but Miss Clavel had told them it would be better to wait. Soon after, they all left, promising me that they would visit me again soon. All except for Miss Clavel. She asked the girls to wait in the hall and then closed the door to the room. She came over to the bed and wrapped those warm, soft arms of hers around me so I could smell that same lavender perfume.

“You’ve been brave, my dear little Madeline.” Those are words I’ll never ever forget, not in a zillion lifetimes.