Ana and Ema (preveiw)

My mother taught me how to lie. That's all she did, if she ever did anything else. When I was younger, she used to joke to my sister Ema and I, that we could lie before we could walk. That was the reason the pair of us were sitting across a table from the head officer and his wife having Sunday dinner. While Mama had gotten off with four days and nights in prison, us being minors had been sent straight to the sheriffs house.

The moment we stepped foot into the Smith’s house, Mrs. Smith had stared us down with a look that could only be classified as disappointment.

"I can't believe the way you two have been living!" She said through sips of tea. I had been staring at my tea in pure concentration, not wanting to even dare drink from it. Ema on the other hand, had quickly drained the tea and was helping herself to another cup.  Because in her eyes, manners always came first no matter the circumstances. After taking some long sips from her tea cup Mrs. Smith turned to face us, expecting us to say something back.

"I've had criminals in this house before, but none have ever been this young!" She took pauses as she talked, her voice getting louder with each word. "Or, as un-godly as the pair of you!"

I didn't understand what was wrong with being un-godly. I mean, it wasn't my fault that Mama had never really seen the importance of taking us to church. If anyone needed a lesson on being godly, it would be Mama.

"From the moment the two of you are finished eating dinner, you'll be confined to your room to study the bible,"

 Mrs. Smith turned to her husband, as if to say don't you agree with me? Mr. Smith who had been to engrossed in his desert to even notice the conversation nodded absent mindedly, not taking his eyes from his plate.

As soon as it was said, it was done. Ema and I had been sent straight to the guest room we would be sharing the next day with versions of the King James Bible resting in our hands.

"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them," Ema bellowed when Mrs. Smith walked in, poking her plump head through the door.

"I brought you lunch," she said. Wincing as she gave us the plates, as if we had some type of disease that could be easily caught if you came within a meter of us.

“Thanks Ma’am,” I said as I took my plate from her, making a big deal of reaching to touch her hand. “I forgot what food tasted like.”

Ema smirked, “We really appreciate this. Most wardens don’t feed their prisoners.”

For a second I thought I saw a smile flicker on Mrs. Smith lizard like face, but as soon as it was there it was gone.

"Just make sure you keep reading, the more you read the holier you get!"

I coughed trying to mask my laughter.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction," Mrs. Smith said walking out the door and shutting it quietly behind her. As soon as her footsteps were almost in audible, I slammed my copy of the bible shut on a nearby desk. Making sure that Mrs. Smith could hear her from the hallway. As she did so, the pages of the book flew open the words inside seeming exposed and vulnerable against the dark brown wood.

"You shouldn't do that," Ema said as she turned a page.

"You're actually reading?" I laughed. “Do you actually expect me to read it too?"

Ema scrunched her nose flipping the page once more. “Ana, I don't think you've noticed, but we're already in a lot of trouble. I'd rather not get in more trouble for something as stupid as not reading the bible."

 "Well, Mama would hate the thought of us reading it. I would hate to disrespect her..."

At this Ema stopped reading for a bit. A look of shame crossed her face, but was soon replaced with a look of amusement.

"Ana, since when did you care about 'respect'," she asked.

I didn't say anything. Ema was right, and she knew it. I hated respecting people, especially Mama.  I for sure had no respect for her- or Ema after what had happened in Combes.

The three of us had been running a business, Mama was a psychic, and Ema and I were her assistants.  The two of us did everything, from listening in on people’s conversations to picking pockets and selling items that would never be received.  Mama at the time would tell people their futures.

"I've got it!" Mama announced one day. World War II had just finished, and we had been getting a lot of widows coming to us. At the time Ema and I had been ten.

"How about, since we can already tell people their futures, we inhabit the power to talk to ghosts?" Mama had grinned, something that barely happened at the time. We liked to call it the Dark Age, since we were so poor we barely had money to eat at times.

"But how will you talk to ghosts?" Ema had asked.

"Ema dear, I will not actually be able to talk to the ghosts; you and Ana will just have to listen carefully to hear when people are talking about their dead loved ones."

That's exactly what we did. Mama would make a list of names of people who were expected to come and see us, and we would follow them around listening to their conversations until we had enough information.

That's exactly what we were doing in Combes when we got caught.

It had been in the middle of a seeing; everything had been going perfectly until Ema messed up. That day Ema who never swore, because she considered it un-lady like swore.

That day we watched Mama get dragged by the police, her last words to us being "Make sure to look in the flour sack."

A few hours later, Mrs. Smith showed up to get us. Sniffing and huffing as she dragged us out of the house. And that's how we ended up here.

The Smiths house was a small one that sat on the side of a hill, faraway from most civilization. It was painted a smooth shade of baby blue with a white roof, looking like it had been picked out of a Mother Goose fairy tale. On the inside it was warm and cozy. Pictures of the Smiths hung crookedly on their walls, alongside what seemed like a million framed prints that read ‘God bless our home’.

"Ana, what you're doing doesn’t really look like reading to me," I looked up from the ground to see Mrs. Smith, her face in its usual scowl, the bible in her hand.

I sighed, "Maybe because I'm not reading."

"Well then, I can easily fix that." Mrs. Smith handed me the book, sniffing as she did so.

When we had just first gotten here, I had read the bible, even more than Ema. The bible interested me, it was like a novel I guess. In the beginning it had a happy start which turned into a bad situation which went back to being good. I liked stories like that. They gave me think that I was just in the bad part of my life, and that I wouldn't be stuck like this forever just going through the motions. By the third day of being here, I had gotten bored with reading, and when I get tired of doing something, I just decide to stop. Why waste my time?

I sat down on a chair across from Ema, who flashed me an 'I told you so' look while barely looking away from what she was reading.

"Just a few more hours till Mama comes to get us." I said under my breath, "Just a few more hours."

*

The next day Mama came to get us. I didn't recognize her at first, until she pulled out a cigarette and started smoking.

"Ana! Ema!" Mama ran towards us, almost falling. "I've missed you so much!" She wrapped her arm around my neck, almost choking me. It was quiet for a while as Mama leaned back to study our faces, searching to see if anything had changed in the four days she had been in jail.

"The two of you look malnutritioned. They did feed you, right?" Mama smoked her cigarette and puffed out her hair. Mama was wearing a tight black dress that shimmered in the daylight, pearls that went down to her waist and her hair was piled in a beehive. She looked like she had just gotten out of palm woods instead of jail.

"Ehmnn..." We turned around to face Mrs. Smith, who had been watching us in clear concentration. Her beady black eyes seemed to stare into our souls.

"Can I help you?" Mama asked.

"No, not really. Don't mind me; just pretend I'm not here,"

Mama turned away from Mrs. Smith to face us. Ruffling Ema's hair and pinching my cheeks, until we finally moved away. Ema fixing her hair and me rubbing my cheeks.

"Gosh, I gone a few days and you've already grown some inches," Mama inhaled from her cigarette once more. This was all just an act for Mrs. Smith. She didn't miss us. Heck, she probably only cared about the money. She probably only wanted to know if we had been any to snag any before Mrs. Smith came to get us.

"Ehemmn.." Mrs. Smith coughed again, the sound that came out of her mouth was very soft and un-Mrs. Smith like.

Mama took this as cue for us to go. "Well, I guess we better get going. Thanks for watching these two rascals."

I picked up the few belongings I had a put them in the trunk next to Ema's.

"Mrs. Werner, before you leave, I'd just like to say that you should be ashamed!" Mrs. Smith said. She coughed between words which made Ema smile a bit, something she hadn't done since the mistake.

Mrs. Smith continued, "The way you raised these two girls. I'd be surprised if they even knew right from wrong."

Mama smiled, she opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, but quickly closed it.

"Hopefully being in jail had taught you a lesson."

A laugh escaped me, I couldn't help it. Mama learning a lesson was as likely as a lion becoming a herbivore.

"Don't worry," Mama said, “I’ve learned my lesson."

By now Mama had taken out her keys and was walking to the car, where Ema had secured her seat in the shotgun. This car was bubble-gum pink and nothing like the one we had lost.

"And Mrs. Werner, just a piece of advice before you go," Mrs. Smith had made her way up the hill and was closer to the house, which meant she was farther away from us, so she was yelling now. “Don’t show your face in this town again."

Mama laughed, “Don’t worry; we never stay in the same place for long. I can promise you, you'll never see us again."

And with that we were off on the road, away from the town of Combes, with no idea where we were going.