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I am so glad you are proud of me. I want to please you, more than anything.“But does it have to hurt so much?”She stokes my hair. “I know, child, I know. But that is why it works, don’t you see? You are not an actress! You are real, and that is why audiences love you. That is why they have loved you right from the start! They love you for being you!“So, yes, my sweet. It does have to hurt, because you have to feel it to show it. And that is how you will be a star. Your pain will set you apart from any others. You will be in demand because of your pain.”She wipes my tears away gently with her thumbs, cradling my face in her hands.“So, yes; it does have to hurt. But it is your destiny, your future. You hold it in your hands. Don’t let it go. Don’t let me down.”I look down, still crying, then up again. “Why, Mistress?”“Why what, my sweet?”“Why do people want to see my humiliation, my disgrace, my… my pain?”She looks up, pensively, thinking. “I’m not sure I know, Mouse. Perhaps it is. I won’t let you fall.’ Again his weight rested on her. This time, she was ready for it as she leaned forward enough to grab the arm of the wooden rocker. ‘I know this isn’t the softest piece of furniture in here, but we’ll work on that. Once you’re sitting, I’ll get some more blankets and a pillow . . .’ He didn’t sit in the chair as much as he fell into it. Maggie could tell his time in the inclement weather exhausted him. The blanket cushioned his frail body from the old oak chair just a bit. She tucked it around him as much as she could before running into the spare bedroom. ‘Here, let’s get this quilt around your legs,’ she said when she returned. She felt him watching her. It wasn’t a freaky, scary feeling. No, it was more like a trusting child who adored the person helping them. ‘You saved my life,’ he mumbled through the blanket covering his mouth. ‘I think someone else had a hand in that. He led you to our door, I have the easy part.’ ‘He don’t help people like me.’ Maggie.
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