The next morning, before father finished his breakfast, Sunshine ran to Madame Lavender’s tent. Her sowing machine was gone, Sunshine’s heart dropped to her stomach. Madame had left, leaving behind the beautiful costumes. Sunshine ran back outside and asked anybody she saw if they had seen Madame Lavender and which route she took.
“She went that way,” said a man on stilts, pointing in one direction.
Sunshine thanked him and as she was running back to her family tent to gather a few of her belongings, she realized she barely owned anything worth of value. If she went back now, she might not never leave. Mother might catch her, speculate her going on’s and never let her go. Mother was good at deducing that her daughter was up to something she would be displeased of. It was now or never.
Sunshine ran the other direction, she ran as quickly as she could, she ran as rapidly as her legs could carry her and she almost missed it if she hadn’t kept her eyes closed as she ran as fast as she could. Madame Lavender was boarding the train.
“Madame Lavender! Madame Lavender!” Sunshine yelled out.
But Madame did not even turn to look. Sunshine went looking for her, from window to window, trying to see where Madame Lavender sat. She found her settling by the window, looking straight ahead.
“Madame Lavender! Madame Lavender! It’s me! Please, look down! Please!” Sunshine called out.
Someone sitting across from Madame tapped her on her shoulder and pointed to little Sunshine. Madame opened the window.
“What is it, child?” Madame asked. “If your father sent you to fetch me, tell him I won’t return.”
“Father didn’t send me,” Sunshine said. “Please, take me with you.”
“I don’t have any knowledge on children,” Madame Lavender admitted. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
“Please, Madame Lavender,” Sunshine used her charms. “You promised you would teach me to sow. If you go, who will teach me? Please, take me with you. If I go back now, father will know, and he will tell mother, and mother will use her broom stick and she will lock me up and I will never learn anything and then I will die. I don’t want to die.”
Madame Lavender thought for a minute.
“I don’t know what children eat,” Madame confessed. “I don’t know anything about raising children.”
“I don’t eat much,” Sunshine said, “and I could teach you anything you need to know about children.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Madame lavender kept thinking. “Won’t father and mother miss you?”
“Mother, always said I was an accident,” Sunshine said, “They won’t miss me, I am certain.”
Madame Lavender saw the bright future of a child slowly disappear. If Sunshine staid with mother and father, they would teach her to be like them, like her older sister had become. Madame Lavender knew all too well father was a monster, Sunshine would be no more if the Tempest family had their way.
“Very well,” Madame Lavender said, “under a few conditions. First, you will do as I say, no questions asked. You will be obedient, loyal and well behaved. Second, you will accept what I give you. And lastly, you will pay me with your servitude. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” Sunshine agreed to the conditions.
“Very well, get on,” Madame Lavender said, “hurry, the train is about to leave.”
Sunshine boarded the train and rushed to sit next to Madame Lavender.
“Well, Sunshine,” Madame Lavender said. “I think a new name would be fitting, for a new life. Don’t you think?”
“You can also stop calling me Madame Lavender,” Madame said. “Call me, Mona.”
That was Madame Lavender’s real name, the only name that is not fictitious through out this story. I chose to use her name, because this whole story is dedicated to her.