“Sally?” Django’s voice could be heard entering through their house’s front door. The blonde ten year-old was sprawled out on her belly, writing on several large pieces of paper in strange symbols. “What are you doing?”
“Hmmm….” Sally thought for quite a long while about what she was doing. As previously stated, she was very intelligent for her age, and now was working with something called ‘matrices’, even though she forgot the name, “I am doing a lot of math.”
“Oh wow…” He crossed his arms over his chest, nodding in awe, “That’s very impressive.”
“Thank you!” Sally beamed, humming happily as she resumed her work, “Oh, papa?” She asked, “Can Genevieve come over later? For dinner?”
“Sure, Sally.” Django’s smile belied his wariness. That “Genevieve” was now a fully-grown adult, and teaching at the school she used to attend. There was never anything explicitly inappropriate about her contact with Sally, but he knew something was going on between them, and he never quite got over how she so thoroughly observed his jewelry. Still, all of the advice he’d received suggested that firmly saying Genevieve wasn’t allowed in his home would only push Sally away. “Say, Sally - Have you given any thought for what you want to be when you grow up?”
“Ooh, yes, I have!” Sally jumped up and dragged her father by the hand to her room, where she bid him stand outside while she prepared.
Her father would go on to hear a variety of crashing, scraping and clacking noises from behind the closed door. He was tempted to walk in and check on her, but she didn’t yell out in pain or anything, so he waited for a few minutes before everything calmed down.
“Come in!” She shouted, and he opened the door to reveal what she was working on.
When he entered, astonishment would be an understatement. She had crafted, or rather, crudely assembled, a small wooden stand, atop which sat a number of her dolls, decorated and beautified with all manner of cosmetics. On the front-facing board the words “La Boutique de Sally” were written, in a bright red paint, and rather sloppily at that.
The proprietress, of course, stood behind, hands on her hips as she proudly awaited the praise that was surely entitled to her. She didn’t have to wait long, as after only a few seconds, her father started clapping, with a large, toothy smile.
“Wow, very good, Sally!” He walked over and put his hands on the stand, which was a bad idea, as it almost buckled under his force. “They smell very fragrant. Where did you get all of this?”
“Genevieve helped me!” She said, brushing straight one of the doll’s hair, “And I made most of the pigments myself.”
“Oh wow, you must like Miss Genevieve a lot, huh?” His nervous tone, though not completely missed by Sally, was not taken to be serious.
“Yes! She’s my favorite teacher.” Sally fiddled a bit more with the dolls, “So, what do you think?”
“It’s very impressive.” Django said. He picked her up and hugged her, which she returned in stride, “So, you want to own a boutique, eh?”
“Yes,” Sally pointed a finger straight up in the air triumphantly, “And I’ll make everyone beautiful!”
“Oh, really -” He looked at the clock, “Oh, damn, I have to leave, Sally.”
“Why?” She asked.
“Well, ever since Joseph moved away, someone’s had to step up and take charge.” He woefully explained. Ever since taking over the business, Django had even less time to spend with Sally, a fact which he regretted immensely but was nonetheless necessary if he wanted to keep a roof over their heads. Sally’s argument, which was to say that she pleaded with him with her large eyes, while mildly effective, was not enough to convince him to stay, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I swear, Sally.”
“Pinky promise?” She asked.
“It’s a promise.” Django smiled, wrapping his little digit around hers.
—
Less than an hour later, Sally heard a knock at the door. Now, she was smart enough to know not to open the door to just anyone, but she was also smart enough to know that she only needed one of the smaller chairs to be able to see over the door through the window at the height of the wall.
Once she realized who was at the door, she immediately went to move the furniture and unlock the boundary, letting the other person in. Predictably, this woman was none other than Genevieve. She immediately gave the little girl a hug, wrapping her in both her long arms and large wings.
“Sally!” She shouted, “It’s good to see you! Your father isn’t around, is he?”
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“No…” Sally said, bashfully, “But why does it matter?”
“Well, I just,” The young woman grimaced and put her finger on her chin, “I don’t think your dad likes me very much.”
“That’s not true!” The blond spun on her heels and defended her father, “He likes you plenty. He’s just protective.”
“Mmm, sure….” The angel trailed off, letting her companion lead her to her room.
“Voila!” She, once more, beamed with pride, showing off her stand, “See? I managed to put the rest of it together.”
“Oh wow, very impressive.” Genevieve, being a woman, was somewhat more familiar with makeup, although she preferred to wear not very much, took a more discerning eye to the dolls, “How did you make this foundation?”
“Mud and berries.” Sally said, wetting her finger with her lips to reapply some of the makeup, “And the perfume I made with some oraignées, roses, cinnamon…” She began listing the ingredients, a set far too large to be accurately recounted.
“Right, well,” Genevieve, after being given an opportunity to speak, produced a box from behind herself that she’d managed to conceal, “I wanted to give you this.”
Sally screamed in delight (specifically, she let out a high pitched wail for around three seconds before exclaiming, “I love it!”) when she opened the blue, velveted container, seeing its contents: Another doll to her collection, slightly smaller than the rest, but much more deeply personal - dark porcelain skin, plush black wings and a mop-like head of inky black hair, all tied together in a classy blue and gold dress.
“I knew you’d love it!” She rolled her hand a few times, with a nonchalant look on her face, “I have a friend who makes dolls, and I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Sally held the doll at arm’s length before hugging it to her chest, “I’m going to treasure this forever.”
“Perfect! I’m glad you like it so much,” Genevieve clapped her hands together and smiled, “But, could I ask for a teensy-weensy favor in return?”
“Of course.” The little girl wasn’t really paying attention, more focused on posing the doll.
“What’s in that locket your dad wears?” The young woman asked.
Sally stopped what she was doing, and a deafening silence fell over the room. The silence continued for a few seconds, before she said “I’m sorry. Papa says I can’t tell anyone.”
“Please, Sally?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Alright,” The angel sighed, “I just thought, since we were such good friends.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked dreary.
The two stewed for a few more seconds of silence, but eventually the atmosphere was too tense and swampy - Sally cracked, and said, “Alright, I’ll tell you!” She had to take a second to catch her breath, “Papa said it was a map he inherited from his maman.”
“Did he say where it led?”
Sally shook her head, already having spilled the most important part and decided to throw caution to the wind, “No, he just said that it was important - and that he wanted to take me there, someday.”
“That’s alright, Sally.” She gently rubbed the girl’s head, and cooed at her adorable reaction, “You’re so kind, and mature for your age. Good girl.”
“Th-thank you, Genevieve.” Sally was nervous now. Of course she, like any child, had the capacity to develop what psychologists would call the larval stage of attraction, she was far too innocent and na?ve to understand exactly what the young woman was getting at.
“And good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Genevieve asked.
Sally nodded, and the first offense was an almost innocent kiss on the forward. However, what followed after was decidedly less innocent, with Genevieve slowly moving her lips down the all-too young girl’s face, until -
“Sally!” The door had apparently been opened, and Django shouted out, his voice booming, “I’m home!”
“Oh, shit!” Genevieve cursed, leaving Sally startled. She realized the imminent danger as the footsteps approached where she was, “Sally, it’s very important you don’t say anything to your dad, okay?”
Sally nodded, and the young woman immediately broke for the window, but it was far too small to accommodate her and her wings. She briefly considered the closet, but again, she was too large. Starting to panic, and not wanting to risk the game being lost before it could truly start, she thought quickly - using her gift to put up a curtain: from the outside, it would appear as if the room was completely untouched, and she intended to hide behind this curtain.
“Sally?” Django peeked his head around the corner, wearing a paternal smile, “There you are.” He picked her up under the arms and spun her around, which was always one of his favorite things to do, “Why’s your face wet, ma princesse?”
“I…” Sally looked towards where Genevieve was hiding, though of course she didn’t actually see her, “I spilled water on myself, papa. Why are you home so early?”
“I got Phillipe to do me a favor. I thought you might get lonely.” He noticed the doll of Genevieve on the table, and picked it up curiously, “Did you always have this?”
“No, Genevieve -” She stumbled on her words, “Left it at the door for me.”
He narrowed his eyes in response. He wasn’t stupid, contrary to what the young angel thought, and he knew that she was trying to find a way to circumvent his wishes to limit the contact between her and Sally. Deciding to take this moment to impose a warning, he turned back toward Sally and sat down. His lower back passed through the curtain, but it made no noise and so he didn’t think to investigate further.
“Look, Sally.” He said, deathly serious, with his hands clasped between, in front, and above his knees, “I know you like Genevieve, but don’t you think it would be better to make some friends your age? Like Monty, remember him?”
“Genevieve says that I’m too smart for kids my age.” She looked dejected and sad, having to force between the two most important people in her life.
“Oh, pish-posh!” Django laughed, “I never told you before, but I have a brother, you know. He’s the smartest man I ever met, and his name’s Allifer. I assure you - he’s plenty sociable.”
“Where does he live?” Sally tilted her little head.
“You know, as a matter of fact, I just got a letter from him.” Her father replied, “He’s living in Tanendille now. Say - this saturday, you and I are going to visit him. Huh?”
“Ok, papa!” The human smiled wide, though by now her hair was already growing quite long and hid most of her face, “That sounds fun!”
“It’s a plan, then!” The demon rose to his feet, “I’m going to get started on dinner then - ratatouille and bread?”
The blonde waited a few seconds after her dad had left the room, and as soon as it seemed she had forgotten about the angel in the room with her, she let fall the curtain and whispered, “Psst - Sally!”
“Oh! You scared me.” She replied.
“Sorry, Sally.” Genevieve patted her head affectionately, “And good work - you did perfectly!”
“Did you hear?” The little girl asked, as though the young woman weren’t in the room, with nothing else to do but hear, “I’m seeing my uncle on saturday!”
“Yes I did hear, now -” Genevieve said, “Can you distract your dad while I sneak out?”
