(3) Sasha and the Collar Girl Part 3

The third part of the story

Sasha and the Collar Girl

Part Three

Even after we had moved from sight of the swinging body, the girl watched, and then she turned around, faced the front, and the disinterested expression reappeared on her face.

“What’s your name?” Sasha asked, after we had traveled far enough to relieve some of the tension we were feeling.

A look of alarm spread across the girl’s features.

“Never mind,” Sasha hastily added. “You can tell us later.”

A quick look of relief, and then the girl seemed to will her face back to disinterest.  I wondered if that was the expression the old man had required during her time with him.  That expression remained on her face for the rest of the day.  We stopped an hour before sunset to make camp, and only then did her expression change to one of puzzlement, and after a time I realized that it was because we did not command her to help with our chores.

Sasha and I did not discuss our sleeping arrangements, but I did not zip our bags together.  Somehow I knew she would want it that way.  We had not returned to the old man’s camp, so we had not retrieved whatever meager belongings he had managed to accumulate.  Although September had made its appearance, the days had grown warmer, so the extra blankets were sufficient for me if I slept in my clothes.  I put the blankets next to Sasha’s sleeping bag and left my bag on the other side of the fire to give the girl some privacy.

While we were eating, Sasha asked the girl for her name, once more.

This time the girl lowered her eyes and replied, “Pig.”

For a moment, Sasha just stared at the girl, and then rage spread across her features, matching my own anger.  Seeing this, the girl folded into a ball and cowered against the small rock on which she sat.

“It’s okay,” Sasha said, taking a deep breath. “We’re not mad you.  We’re mad at that man.”

I’m not sure the girl believed us, for it was a long while before she lifted her head to gaze cautiously at us.

“He probably changed your name from something that was close,” I remarked. “Maybe your name was, Peg?”

She lowered her head and did not reply.

“Peg is short for Margaret,” Sasha added. “I’m going to call you, Marge.  If there is another name you like better, just tell us, and we’ll call you that.”

Again, there was no reply.

Sasha and I rarely looked at the watch we had been allowed to carry with us on our journeys, and we never consulted it for information about when to retire, but we always seemed to become sleepy at the same time.  There would be a yawn from one, and then the other would mimic it, so when she stood and rubbed her eyes, I rose, too.

“Time for bed,” I said to no one in particular.

Margaret stood, and in one motion she lowered her arms, crossed them, and pulled her dress over her head, so she was naked.  She walked to our bedding, turned to us with a questioning look and waited.  It took a speechless moment for us to realize that she was wondering which of us would use her that night.  Perhaps she thought it would be both.

“Over there,” Sasha said gently, motioning to where I had set my sleeping bag. “You can have some privacy.”

Once again that uncertain expression appeared on Margaret’s face.  Sasha walked to my bag and motioned for her.  Obediently, Margaret followed, and Sasha soon had her zipped into the bag.  I would have spoken to Sasha when we were in our bedding, but I did not, since Margaret would have heard, and I did not want to treat the girl as an object.

In the middle of the night, I felt Sasha rise.

“Where are you going?” I heard.

I lifted my head and saw Margaret standing at the edge of our camp.

“If you need to pee, I’ll go with you.”

Margaret glanced once at the darkness, and then she shook her head.  Sasha got out of her bag, retrieved my sleeping bag, and laid it between us.  Margaret slept between us the rest of the night, and did not try, again, to escape.  After a long time, I heard her soft snore.

“She could have been me,” Sasha whispered.

I shuddered.  We were years from Eagle’s Retreat, but we had not forgot.