Chapter 6 - The First Thread

Story by Tiberius Rings on SoFurry

, , , , , , , ,

#6 of Come to Dust

Here's Chapter 6. I really wanted to write a chapter about some of the real dangers chimney sweeps struggled with in Victorian England. Simon's story is, of course, a work of fiction but historically boys like him died from things like falling, getting stuck, burning flames in alternate chimneys (they were designed like mazes) and cancer. Many didn't live to see 15 or 20.

I hope you enjoy!

Story is copyright to me, @TiberiusRings

Art is also by the awesome and generous @FruitzJam !


Chapter 6 - The First Thread

It had been a few weeks since Gideon had told me he'd seen Spring Heeled Jack. It had been a bit of a tail pull to get him to tell me the story and he didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it. Below is what he told me:

I was jus' a cub, you know? Back then I wasn't very big. Didn't hit a growth spurt for a couple years yet. I was living at the old chapel by the water, the place that closed down not too long ago. The Sisters there, they was always nice to us street kids. I'd grown up there until then, told I was left on the doorstep in a blanket of all things. Anyway, we aren't talkin' about my origins...

It was a hot night. There wasn't any wind blowing in from the river and it was like walking through soup. I remember because I was sweating and had my shirt off. I couldn't have been very old, but even then I knew that you needed to keep cool in the summer and warm in the winter or you would die. I was sitting on the stoop outside of the church by myself, just trying to cool off. I remember thinking I was melting, and I got up to go back inside when I heard this... sound. It was like a crash. I heard glass shatter.

Now, this is where I would love to say I was really brave and ran over to save whoever was hurt, but I wasn't. I stayed stock still. I couldn't move my legs. I remember thinking, "Run! Run!" but nothing happened. I heard more noises, more thumps and bangs like a fight. Then I saw him...

It was this black demon. He leapt over the wall as high as a two-storey building! He came down right in the middle of the road. He had wings or something... it was waving behind until he landed and it fell around him. I remember his hat fell onto the ground. It was one of those fancy top hats you see the rich people wear. He picked it up and put it on, and was about to leave when he turned suddenly toward me...

Simon, if I had any water that night I'd have wet myself. It was not a person... it was a thing. Its face was metal and pointy, with sharp teeth that looked deadly. His eyes... Gosh, Simon, I'll never forget those eyes. They were like fresh blood. They were huge, unblinking, and when the light from the lamp hit his face, they glowed. I saw he also had metal claws and was carrying a cane. If he wasn't so scary looking I'd have thought he was a rich man who got lost.

We were staring at one another for what felt like ages. I couldn't move. He slowly started walking toward me. I heard his laugh... it was like... like he was laughing inside a pot or something. When he passed a metal carriage that had been parked on the side of the road he let his claws drag over it... and I swear they sparked and made the most horrible sound, Simon.

At that point I could run and run I did. I got back inside the church and slammed the door and lowered the bar. I leaned my small back against it and panted. It was so quiet.

Save for the heavy steps outside. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I held my muzzle and tried to keep as still as I could. I heard a laugh again, softer through the door. Then the heavy knock of something. Knock. Knock. Knock.

I ran and dove under one of the pews. I was curled up into the smallest ball you could imagine. I stayed there the whole night, certain he was going to get in. It wasn't until one of the sisters saw me and coaxed me out with some breakfast. She said I was shivering like it was winter.

_So, yeah, Simon. He's real. Don't go messing with things like that. He still comes to me at night in me dreams. Listen to your professor friend. Get inside before dark. _

I couldn't believe that Gideon was so scared of something. In all the years I'd known him I'd never seen him scared of anything. But that just told me I needed to take it seriously. Gideon wasn't a fibber.

But right now I couldn't really think of that. Today was a work day.

We'd been up since sunrise, having some porridge and out on the streets. Alister had a list of clients we were supposed to go to, as well as streets he hadn't been down in a while to try and sell our services. I followed him as he talked about the schedule and who we were going to, looking up at the tall man.

Even if he was sickly, he was still a good man. He was always so clean, too. He never had a bit of soot on him in the morning. He also took some medicine that hid his cough and he stood with his back straighter and shoulders squared. He looked down at me and quirked a brow.

"Lost in thoughts again, Simon?" he asked with a voice that didn't let me know if he was in a bad mood or just looking for conversation. I played it safe nonetheless.

"Can't get lost in things I don't have, remember?" I said with a cheeky little grin. "Just last week you told me I didn't have two thoughts to rub together in my whole head."

At the joke one of two things could happen. The first was a cuff to the back of my head. Alister was a good man but he was also a businessman. He also knew that being cheeky could rub off on the other boys, so he didn't really tolerate a lot of quips at his expense. He also never cuffed hard, usually just enough to send my hat into the snow. One it was enough to knock me down, but that time I had deserved it. Not once since I had worked for him had he ever struck a boy hard. Just to remind them that kindness is not weakness, Simon, he would tell me. Every one of us Alister Boys knew we was lucky -- other sweeper boys were beaten by their Masters. Alister said if we got hurt we weren't working, so if we were going to get hurt it was going to be working and not by his hand. I guess it was in his roundabout way of saying he cared about what happened to us.

Alister smirked and shook his head. So it was the second reaction. "That mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, boy."

"I think it already has, sir," I countered.

"Too right," he said with a fake scowl. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Go to this street and support the boys working over there. I know you can handle it. If you got to, get up inside to secure the cart. But remember, you're the point man. That should only be a last resort."

"Yes, sir!" I said with a fake salute and headed down the roads with a wide grin on my face. On my back was a pack full of tools. Things for others to use if they needed it. Alister had the cart, but this was fine. I didn't mind. He was letting me be the Master Sweep for this area, so it was always a big deal. I guess he was preparing me to run my own business when I was a bit older.

That was how my day began. I walked up and down the roads, yelling out the usual pitch, talking to the men and women who passed, going to some doors, and following some other boys to their locations just to help clarify some things or provide a few tools. It was a lot of back and forth, moving from one home to the other, one tenement to the other, sometimes having to crawl up the side of the house and peer down and slip a pick or a brush to one of the guys inside. It wasn't boring by any means. It was tough, at times, that some of the owners didn't listen to me until I told them I worked for Alister. Some outright refused to deal with me, but that was the way these things worked. I wasn't a Master Sweep, I didn't have a reputation for running things, and even if I was the best sweeper in all of London, it meant nothing to people who were only used to dealing with Alister. I could see that, when I left his employ to start my own business, it would be difficult. Reputation was everything. It also drove the point home that if I didn't mind my manners I could leave with a poor reputation and be even worse off.

I was reading over my list for the millionth time when I heard someone shouting my name.

"...moooon!" the small voice was saying. I turned around and saw Avery running toward me, out of breath and slipping on some ice. He spun and almost hit a wall. As he was pushing himself up, I moved over.

"Avery?" I asked, dumbfounded. "What's wrong? You know we aren't supposed to--"

"Benny!" the wolf gasped for breath, leaning forward and trying to calm down. "Ben! Ben! He's..."

"Avery, what?" I said, sounding firmer, grabbing my friend by the shoulder and getting him to stand upright. "Where's Benny?"

"Brick house... Other street." Avery pointed to the street to the back of this one. "He's stuck. Can't get out."

I felt the blood drain from my ears and face. Getting stuck in a chimney was deadly. Getting stuck was a death sentence. I shook my head and snapped out of it. I had to do something.

"Avery!" I said, grabbing his arm and looking at him in the eye. "Go find Alister. Tell him what happened. He'll get over there right away. I'm going to go and help."

As soon as I finished speaking, I bolted. I did not just run for the end of the street and down, I went over the fence, across the yards of buildings, through the alleys, cutting a straight line to where Avery had said Ben was. I slipped twice, scraping my palm once as I ran, but I quickly got up and saw the house.

The door was ajar and there was another one of the boys there looking anxious. A small looking badger by the looks of it. Conroy, I think his name was. Newish. I skidded up to him and he looked up at me with huge eyes. "Simon!" he said, pointing inside. "You have to--" I cut him off by climbing the steps into the tenement building and sniffing for fresh soot.

You can always tell when soot has been released, it's like a dark trail that leads to it. It was sharp and hard to miss, even for someone like me who may as well have bathed in the stuff. I rubbed my nose and ran down the hallway, bursting into the home of a family of red foxes. They looked well-off. The wife was wearing a nice dress and the furnishings looked decent. They weren't rolling in the money but they were comfortable. The wife looked anxious, worried, annoyed. Her husband was probably going to be angry. I could see toys around the main room but no kits. I guess they were in school. Definitely well-off.

Inside the home was a small fireplace. I growled a little bit and walked toward it. The vixen spoke hurriedly, "You're one of his coworkers, right? Get him out of there! He's been squirming for almost thirty minutes! I don't know what we will do if..." She didn't finish. I had trouble telling if she was worried about Ben, or if she was worried her home would have a dead boy in the chimney if I couldn't figure something out.

"It's alright, ma'am." I said, putting my pack down and starting to pull off my jacket and shirt. "It's... it's part of the job, I'll get him out." I said it with a bit of fake confidence in my voice. If Ben was stuck there wasn't a whole lot we could do.

Once stripped to the waist I walked over and peered up the flume. It was straight up at least, and dark. At least he wasn't stuck at a junction. That was good. At least this way we had a chance, I hoped. Still, this was narrow. Almost too narrow. I poked my head out and walked back to my pack, opening it up and pulling out some rope. I put it over my shoulders and sighed inwardly.

"Ma'am, when someone from Alister's gets here, tell 'em Simon is inside and someone needs to go to the top and see if they can do anything from the roof." I didn't give her a chance to respond. I silenced her by pushing my trousers down and kicking them off.

You see, chimneys are small spaces. Sometimes too small. Clothing can get in the way and snag. It's dangerous to go in without covering, but sometimes you need just that little bit of wiggle room. It could be a matter of life and death. So that was why I had silenced the vixen by standing there in nothing but my fur and hat. I blushed, turning and grabbing my pick and ducking under. "An' try to put a candle or something down here and to the side. Not a fire! Don't burn me tail off, all right?"

I tied the end of the rope to the heavy leg of the cast iron stove in the corner, and then scurried up inside. I had my cap down over my muzzle to block out some of the kicked loose soot. Breathing it in was bad, and my cap had always saved me from having lungs like Alister's. At least for now.

It was tight even for me. I was not a large fox but this was an awful chimney, and I was not getting smaller. Twice I had to stop and focus, fearing that I was going to get myself caught like Ben and die here. But I had a job to do. I kept wiggling my way up slowly, hearing shuffling and feeling grains of solid soot fall on my face and muzzle.

"Ben," I said, loud to try and get over the wiggling sound he was making. It sounded like rocks rubbing against one another. "Ben! It's me!"

The wiggling stopped, and then I heard a very muffled, "Simon?" Followed by a line of coughs. Not good. "Simon! Get me out of here, I can't move me legs!"

"Stay still!" I shouted up, continuing to climb upwards. I felt the sides of the chimney cut into my hands and knees, wincing... Finally, I felt toes touching the top of my ears and I paused. I felt the edges of the wall and they were warm. The neighbor was using their fireplace. It was almost too hot to touch on the left. I grimaced. I should have told someone to tell the neighbors to bugger off, but here we were.

"Ben!" I said, reaching up and closing my hand around his ankle. "Relax! It's me! Calm down! I'm here."

"SIMON!!" I heard a scream of terror that shot me to the core. "SIMON DON'T GO ANYWHERE!!" Ben was starting to panic again. I could hear him coughing louder, harder. He was trying to kick and move himself, but he was only making it worse.

"Ben, you hafta stop moving! You're makin' it worse!" I shouted, trying to get myself in a position to pull on his leg... But each time I tried Ben cried out in pain. Damn it. "Ben, you gotta push down with your knees while I pull."

"It hurts, Simon!" I heard him cry. Chimney sweeps rarely cried. At least in front of one another. We weren't devils but we were young men. Weakness and all that was often made fun of. "I don't think I can do it..."

"You HAVE to, Benny!" I said, grunting again as I tried to pull him down, slipping some and almost falling down the length of the chimney. The only thing that saved me was holding on to Ben's ankle. Of course, that made him cry out in a new bout of pain... but if my full weight couldn't move him...

I gritted my teeth and shuffled the rope off my arm, coughing into my cap as I got it tied around his ankles. I had to do the knot from memory-- it was incredibly hard but you got used to working in near darkness in a chimney.

"Oy!" I said down between my legs. "Who's down there?"

"Me, Simon!" Another voice. Billy? I think it was Billy. "Alister's climbing up to the top. Whaddya need?"

I sighed with relief. Alister was here. Things would be alright. I swallowed. "Get a few other boys and tug on the rope. I got it tied around Ben's ankles. I can't pull him out on me own. He's wedged in good!" I coughed some more. I was staying in here too long. I was good at holding my breath and working quickly, but in here I was lingering, talking...this was bad.

What was worse was Ben was still sobbing, but not moving as much. I tugged on his leg. "Ben! You with me?"

A heart pounding moment of silence before I heard him respond. "Y... yeah... I see light above, Simon. I think...someone is coming down from the top."

"Good!" I said, pinching his foot. He yelped and squirmed.

"Owch! Why'd you pinch me?"

"Makin' sure you aren't falling asleep or anything. We're gonna try to pull you out."

I held my breath some more and reached up, grabbing Ben's pick from his belt. I began to jab at the side of the chimney near his back, slamming away as hard as I could. This was dangerous. You didn't want to loosen everything up right away or you would fall down... And this chimney had a lot of creosote buildup. Family had been putting it off again.

I forget how long I was hammering away, still trying to tug on Ben. I felt the rope go tight against me. They must have been pulling.

"Looks like the cavalry has arrived, Ben," I called. "You're gonna pop outta here in a moment."

But no response came.

"Ben?" I said, looking up and coughing. I reached up and shook his foot. "Ben?"

No response.

"Ben? BEN!" I pinched his foot. Hard. I shook. I even jabbed him with the pick. "Ben! Wake up! Say something! Ben! BEN!"

"Simon..." a voice said from above. Ben? No... it was softer. It was a new boy's voice. Andrew, I think his name was. "Simon...Alister sent me down from the top. I just got here."

"Shut up and push! Or pull! Dammit, pull!" I said, gritting my teeth and pulling on Ben's leg.

"Simon," the soft voice said. "He...He isn't breathing. Simon... He's--"

"NO!" I screamed, pulling on his leg as hard as I could. I could feel my grip slipping. "He isn't dead, he's just sleeping!!"

"Simon, he... he isn't... he..."

"No! I can't! We just lost someone three months ago! No, no, no!" I screamed, tugging on Ben's leg. His leg did finally shift, and a momentary spark of happiness and relief was quickly washed away as I slipped.

I couldn't find any purchase all the way down to the bottom of the chimney. But thankfully I was smart enough to push with my bound-up hands and slow my descent. I landed, hard, on my naked rump, a billowing cloud of black smoke and soot following me and entering the home.

When it cleared and I saw a few of the boys, and the vixen, staring at me. I didn't move. I was quite the sight I was told. Naked, dirty, my cap having landed right in my lap to hide my shame. I had my head back against the brick and was looking up the dark passage.

"Simon," Billy said, coming over to me. "You... You need to move."

I was quiet. I clenched my eyes closed suddenly and buried my muzzle into the corner of my arm. I cried then and there. Most of the boys had never seen me cry before. I had to be strong. This was part of the job. But this was the first one where I had been trying to save them and I failed. I was also lucky to be out of there. The cough I made sounded rough, made my throat raw.

"Benny--" I coughed again, stumbling to my feet. I grabbed onto the chair where my things were laid, and I rounded about. I yelled, "Where's Alister?! Where's the constables? We need to rip the wall down and get him out of there!"

Ignoring Billy's attempt to calm me down, I ran out toward the front door, still stark naked, but I was stopped when I bumped into Alister. He looked down at me and glared. "Simon, you are making a scene. I know this is difficult but you need to--"

"He's DEAD!" I shouted at the tall fox in front of me. "He's dead, Alister, because you let him--"

"Simon!" Alister growled, and the next moment, his hand grabbed my wrist. My fist must've been raised up to hit him... or at least, that's what I think had happened. It's hard to remember what was going on then and there. Avery told me later that I looked crazy and sad... and broken. It hurt to be called broken.

Of course, being slapped, hard, by Alister also hurt. I winced and fell to my knees.

"Put your clothes on and go outside. I will get Benjamin out of the chimney," Alister said. He then looked to my small friend. "Avery, sit with him. If he goes anywhere, you tell me. Simon, you will behave or you will know what my anger is really like."

And so I obeyed. Not because I wanted to, not because I had to, but because I couldn't do anything else. A friend was dead. Someone I was starting to really like. Why did it always hurt when one of us died? This wasn't the first by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the one I was a witness to.

In the end they were able to pull Ben out of the chimney after some men came and pulled on my rope. I was told his leg broke because of it, but he was dead so it didn't really matter. Alister, and a doctor, looked him over. We were told he died from being inside there too long. He kept breathing when he needed to hold his breath. He was still newish though -- he didn't have much practice.

The doctor looked me over too. I didn't say anything as he wrapped my wounds on my hands and knees, checked my head and listened to my lungs. He said I was lucky to be alive myself, that if I had been in there much longer there would have been two chimney sweeps dead today. I almost said there were certainly more than two dead today, just not in the same chimney.

The body was taken away. I didn't ask where. We would have a small ceremony for him later. Probably Sunday. I didn't care. They were hard to deal with. Seeing your friend buried. Sure, I knew people who died, but never someone in front of me. It was like... I had missed a bullet. Like Death itself had shot at me but hit Ben instead.

Alister told me to take the next day off. I tried to protest but he said if I wasn't collected I would just make more of a scene later. He wasn't mean about it, he was that calm and cool kind of mellow that drove me mad sometimes. Did anything ever get under this fox's skin?!

So I wandered about London a bit. I knew where I was going, but I didn't know how to talk about it. It wasn't until night had set in and the wind was so bitterly cold that I went down the alley to the Howler Boys. I needed Gideon. I needed someone who would not hold it against me for crying.

When I walked into his room and he was putting down a book and looked at me worriedly, I just ran into him, burying my head in his chest. I didn't care if soot rubbed off on his fur and vest. I held onto him.

It was like that, holding the only one in this world that I cared about, when I sobbed for the first time in three years.

I don't remember how long it lasted but Gideon held me all the same. I do remember that, when I fell asleep, I felt better. I felt warm.

And I hoped Ben was somewhere warm, too.