Rags to Riches

The young urchin, using all the skills he'd learned, stealthily approached the table in the outdoor market. It had been two days since he'd last eaten anything and, as much as he regretted it, he had no choice but to steal a loaf of bread.

He watched the Merchant, the Baker, Mr. Morgan, as he approached a potential customer. Once the man's back was turned, he reached in and grabbed a loaf and made an attempt to make his escape. Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed the man standing directly behind him. Loaf in hand, he turned and ran directly into the man.

Needless to say, he was caught. The man held onto the squirming boy as he fought to escape his fate. He knew if he was to be turned over to the Constable he'd be sent to the workhouse for sure. He'd heard what went on in those places and it wasn't anyplace he'd ever like to be.

As the man held onto the boy he appraised the boy's looks. He was small, maybe ten or eleven years of age. Freckles on his face and unkempt ginger hair. His clothing was in poor condition and he smelled as if he'd not had a bath in several days.

The Constable arrived and took the boy, then brought him before the Magistrate. With little fanfare, he was sent to the workhouse. He walked along with the Constable, his hands bound. As they approached, he saw the building. It was extremely large and foreboding.

They made their way into the building and the Constable brought him before the Superintendent of the workhouse. The boy was stripped naked, his clothing disposed of. He was taken to a room where he was doused with water and scrubbed until his skin was the colour of a ripened strawberry. His hair was sheared off in the same manner as one would a sheep to get his wool.

Again he was brought before the Superintendent who started in with the questions.

"What's your name, boy?"

The boy was shy and in a timid voice he said, "I – I – I'm Malcolm, Sir. Malcolm Reynolds, Sir."

"How old are you, Malcolm – Malcolm Reynolds?"

"I'm nearly twelve, Sir."

"Right, eleven." He scanned a document he had in front of him and said, "So, you were caught stealing a loaf of bread. We don't tolerate thieves here, Mr. Reynolds. Behave yourself and you will be fine here. You will awaken at daybreak, eat your breakfast, then you will work until sundown. If your work was satisfactory, you'll be given something for your supper. If not, you go to bed hungry. Do you understand me, boy?"

"Y… Yes, Sir."

Malcolm was led to a dormitory. The room was lined with beds on either side of a central aisle. He was taken to a bed and told that was where he'd sleep. Since it was late in the day, he should remain there until the rest of the boys got back from their work. He would be allowed to join them for supper that night, but he'd have to earn his supper from then on.

Once he was left by himself, he curled up on the bed and cried. How long he lay there, he wasn't sure. But he was alerted by the sounds of other boys arriving into the room.

"Oi! Lookie here. We got ourselves a new boy!" The boy who had spoken was named Miles. He was nearly fourteen, the age at which he was to be sold as an apprentice. As a result of that fact, he was the defacto leader of the dorm.

Malcolm was immediately surrounded by ten boys. They forcibly picked him up off his bed and stood him in front of Miles. The older boy looked at him and said, "So, you should know I am the boss here. Whatever I say, goes. Today, I say that you will give me at least half of your dinner. They never give me enough to eat. If you don't, you'll be quite uncomfortable trying to work tomorrow with all the bruises you'll have for your disobedience."

To demonstrate, Miles hauled off and slugged the boy in the gut. Malcolm doubled over with the pain and was happy his stomach was empty or he'd have vomited all over Miles and he was certain that would not have been a good thing.

He was led to the dining hall where he was given a tray. As he went through the line, he was given a piece of stale bread, something akin to mashed potatoes, and a banger. The amount he was given was about half of what he would have eaten before his parents had died, and he was to lose half of the little he'd gotten.

He arrived at the table and Miles looked over at him. He defiantly tucked into his food. He had gotten into this because he was so hungry. He was certain he'd be beaten that night, but an empty stomach hurt just as badly.

After the meal, as they were walking back to their dormitory, Miles whispered to the boy, "Your arse is mine tonight, boy!"

Malcolm knew all about what Miles was talking about. In the fortnight he was on the streets he'd met a number of other boys. Several of which sold their arses in order to be able to buy food. One tried to convince Malcolm that at his age he'd be very popular.

Fearfully, he entered the dormitory. Within moments he was accosted by several boys who were dragging him over to Miles. Just as they were arriving, one of the Supervisors entered the room. As they had been trained, all of the boys stood at attention whilst the man was in the room.

He looked around and said, "I am looking for the new boy, Malcolm Reynolds. Step forward, boy!"

Malcolm stood before the man who told him to follow. Back to the Superintendent's office where he noticed the man who'd caught him sitting there. Standing in a corner with his head down, he overheard what was being said.

"Are you sure you want this one, Mr. Coopersmythe? He's quite small."

The man looked over at Malcolm and with a smile on his face said, "Yes, he's the one."

With that, he was taken from the workhouse; then followed the man as they walked through the town. It wasn't unheard of for people to be walking about in the early evening and the streets were still rife with activity. Without a word he followed as they left the main part of town, heading to where Malcolm knew some very large homes were, owned by very wealthy men. They arrived at a house that was even larger than the workhouse. Malcolm wondered why he was being brought here.

When they entered a man approached and said, "Welcome home, Mr. Coopersmythe. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Thomas, this is Malcolm. He's going to be living here from now on. Please take him into the kitchen and see that he's allowed to eat his fill. Once he's eaten, please bring him to my study."

"Yes, Sir. Please follow me, Master Malcolm."

Nobody had ever spoken to him in such a manner. His family had not been wealthy, but they weren't necessarily poor either. Before the sickness took his parents, his father had worked for an accounting firm and made a good wage.

Thomas took Malcolm into the kitchen and told him to sit. He was brought a glass of milk which he immediately drank greedily. Milk was a luxury he'd not had in quite a while. Thomas looked upon the boy and Malcolm was sure he'd be in trouble. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to drink it all up."

Thomas just smiled, brought the pitcher and refilled the boy's glass. "Feel free to drink as much as you like, Master Malcolm. Let me see if I can find you something filling to eat."

Malcolm drank the second glass of milk far less greedily. Thomas brought him a loaf of fresh bread, a bowl of what seemed like some sort of stew and a plate with some meat and boiled potatoes. Malcolm tucked into the meal and before long had cleaned the plates and bowls.

"My word, you must have been hungry, Sir. Can I get you anything more?"
Malcolm looked at the man with puzzlement. "I've just eaten more than two boys would and you're offering me more?"

"Sir, I was instructed by the Master of the House to provide you with all you needed to sate your hunger. If you want more, you need but ask and it will be given to you."

"I've never been treated in this manner, thank you, but I've had quite enough."

Thomas bowed and invited the lad to follow him. They walked down a long ornate hallway. At the end was a set of double doors. The doors were made of a rich dark wood and polished to the point that Malcolm could easily see his reflection. Thomas knocked upon the door and having been told to enter, he opened it and ushered the boy into the man's study.

"Thank you, Thomas," the man said as he got out of his chair and approached Malcolm. Thomas left, closing the doors behind him as Mr. Coopersmythe dropped to one knee so he could look the boy in the eye. "Your parents. What were their names?"

"Robert and Mary, Sir. Robert and Mary Reynolds."

"Were you aware if they had any family?"

"Sir, I know my father was an only child, but I do believe my mother had a sister and maybe a brother, but I've never met either."

Mr. Coopersmythe looked over at the boy, he could see the resemblance. "Malcolm, I'm not sure if you'll quite understand this, but Mary's name before she married your father, was Mary Coopersmythe; my sister."

Malcolm wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "I'm not sure I understand fully, Sir."

"Malcolm, your mother was my sister and as such, you are my nephew. When I'd heard of the death of your father and my sister I looked for you, but you were nowhere to be found. When I saw you today in the market, I knew. I immediately went to see my Solicitor, but it was too late to avoid you being sent to the workhouse. I knew I must do whatever I needed to in order that you wouldn't stay there."

Malcolm's eyes watered as he jumped over and wrapped his arms around the man. Through his tears he asked, "What should I call you, Sir? Uncle?"

"My name is Edward. If you'd like to call me Uncle Edward, I would be a very happy man."

 

*** Three Months Later ***

Malcolm and his Uncle were walking through the market as one of the boys he'd known came up to him. "Malcolm! You finally decided to hire yourself out and it looks like you found yourself a great one!"

Malcolm laughed, "James, this is my Uncle."

"Your Uncle? Ok, I understand. I won't get in the way of you and your 'Uncle'." The boy laughed back at him.

After telling James to wait a moment, Malcolm turned to Edward, asked him to bend so he could whisper something to his Uncle. Edward smiled and reached into his pocket, and handed something to Malcolm. The boy turned back to his friend and handed him several coins. James looked in his hand and the surprise was evident on his face.

"Bloody hell! Five pounds? I haven't had that much money in me entire life!" He hugged Malcolm and kissed him on the cheek, "I won't have to 'work' for at least a month, thanks, Mate."

Edward turned to the boy and said, "Would you be interested in employment, James?"

James looked up at the man with a questioning glance. "What would I have to do, Sir?"

"I am a very busy man and as such I am not always available to be around for my nephew. What I would like is to hire you for room, board, and one pound a week to be his companion. You would help him in whatever way he needs."

"So, you want me to come live with yer and just be his friend? I think I can do that, Sir. You have yourself a deal!"

The two became fast friends. James doted on Malcolm and as they grew they became closer than most would believe boys should. Uncle Edward had no qualms with it. Malcolm was happy and that was all that mattered.

 

[End]