A MAZE OF GREED

It had been three days after Ruth's fight with Florence. News spread like wildfires in the areas where the houses seem like the compartments of a single matchbox.

In the same manner, Ruth's outburst was the talk of her poor neighbourhood. Every time she stepped out of her room, it was only to find someone giving her a strange glance or people whispering amongst themselves while pointing their fingers at her.

She was ashamed and terrified. She did not know what had gotten into her at that moment. After regaining her consciousness, she could not recall a single thing she said to Florence.

Only the snippets of the images remained in her brain, but they were incoherent.

Mr and Mrs Payne were worried when they got that news from none other than Claire. And as expected, she had spiced up the details that put both the old people in worry.

Fortunately, Thea was there to present answers to Ruth's questions. She tried her best in reciting the incident in great detail, but that did not help Ruth to know how she acted that way.

Ruth was confused and angry at herself. But Thea kept reminded her that what she did was right and Florence deserved it.

Ruth slowed her pace on the first floor and cast a secretive glance to the third door, but it remained closed. No one saw Florence after that incident. It was like she had disappeared into thin air.

"Oh, mother. What is happening with me?" Ruth said out loud while resting her back on the wall of her room.

A half-finished dress lay on the floor beside her.

She closed her eyes again to ponder over what had gotten into her that day. But instead of searching for that answer, her mind wandered to a long-forgotten memory of her childhood.

*** "Mother... mother..."

Ten-year-old Ruth sprinted into the house where her mother sat sewing a shirt. Bertha Moore was well known for her skilled threadwork in their locality.

She was so engrossed in her work that he failed to listen to her beloved daughter's calls.

"Mother!" Ruth dived to embrace her mother that startled Bertha.

The needle targeted her finger instead of the cloth, drawing droplets of blood. She hissed with creased brows.

After looking at the blood on her mother's finger, Ruth's excitement died down. "Oh my God! I am so sorry, Mother! I did not mean to do it."

Ruth took her mother's hand in her little ones and wiped the blood with a napkin nearby.

Smiling at her daughter's concern, Bertha ruffled her toffee brown hair.

"It's okay, my dear. I know you do not like to see your mother in pain."

"But, there is blood, mother." Ruth's eyes teared up, looking at her mother.

Bertha pressed her finger with the napkin for a while and then removed it. "See, not anymore."

Ruth smiled in relief.

"Why were you calling me?" Bertha asked, remembering what caused that small accident in the first place.

Ruth's eyes again lit up in excitement. "Oh, yes. Mother, there is a toy seller outside. My friends are buying toys for themselves. I saw this one doll that I want. Please, mother, buy that for me, please!"

Bertha hesitated for a fleeting second, but nothing was more precious and important than her daughter's happiness.

"Of course, I will buy that doll for you. Come with me."

Bertha took some coins with her and walked outside the house with Ruth holding her hand. Ruth dragged her excitedly where the seller was surrounded by a group of kids.

"Mother, look at that doll in the pink dress. I want that one."

Bertha also liked the doll that Ruth pointed out. "Okay, then we will buy that one only."

While she asked the seller about the doll's price, a girl of Ruth's age took that doll.

"Now, this is mine!" She exclaimed happily to her mother.

"No. That is my doll!" Ruth told her with a frown.

The girl blinked at Ruth. "But my mother has paid for this doll. It is mine now."

"No. That is my doll. I saw it first, and I liked it more than you." Ruth's raised voice caught Bertha's attention.

The girl's mother glared at Ruth and then at Bertha, to which Bertha replied with an uneasy and apologetic smile.

"Ruth, why do not you chose something else? There are plenty of toys. Let your friend have this doll. I will buy you another one later." Bertha crouched down to Ruth's level.

Ruth got angry. Shaking her head vigorously, she glared at the girl. "No, mother. I want that same doll. Give me that doll." Ruth tried to snatch that doll from the girl's hands.

The girl began crying while fighting for the doll. "Mother, look how Ruth is behaving. I do not want to give my doll."

"Give me that doll! Give it to me!" Ruth started fighting with the girl and scratching and pinching her hand.

Getting enough of Ruth's tantrum, the girl's mother intervened in their fight.

"Ruth, stop! Leave my daughter! Bertha, do something. Your daughter is harming my daughter."

Bertha tried to talk to Ruth, but she did not listen to a word. Ruth was so angry that her eyes turned red even though she had no tears in them.

"Ruth, listen to me, my dear. Stop!"

Bertha's all tries went in vain. She had never seen her daughter that angry before.

After some struggle, the girl's mother managed to separate the two fighting girls. She held Ruth by her shoulder and bent down to her level.

Glaring at her, she chided her. "Enough! Listen to me, you indisciplined girl. See what you did to my daughter. You injured her and made her cry. Is this what your mother has taught you?

This is what happens with children without a father. You are a bad gi-"

Before the woman could go on and on about how Bertha failed as a mother, Ruth's eyes pierced into hers.

"Do not say a word about my mother!" Ruth said through clenched teeth.

Bertha did not know what to do. She was embarrassed at what the woman said and was worried for her daughter.

"What did you say, you br-"

"I said, do not insult my mother!" Ruth's voice came confident and stronger contradictory to her nature.

The woman struggled to say something but ended gaping like a fish when no words came out of her mouth. She could not look away from Ruth's eyes.

"Apologise to my mother!" Ruth ordered, and like an obedient lamb, the woman did as she was told.

"Bertha, I-I am sorry. I take back my words."

Satisfied with her compliance, Ruth said further, "That doll is mine. I liked that doll very much, and I want it."

The woman did not blink and without breaking Ruth's eye contact, took the doll from her daughter's hand.

"Yes, if you like it, then it is yours."

"Mother, what are you doing? That is my-"

"Shut up! If Ruth likes this doll, then it is Ruth's." The woman said.

And then only Ruth's eyes moved away from that woman and fell on the doll in her hand.

A wide smile lit up her face, all her anger drained down the lane.

Turning towards her mother, Ruth showed her doll excitedly.

"Mother isn't my doll beautiful. Aunty finally gave it to me when I convinced her." She smiled innocently.

But Bertha knew that it was way different than convincing.

Running her hand on Ruth's face, she asked, "Ruth, are you well dear?"

Little Ruth got confused with that question.

"Yes, mother. Why are you asking that? I am happy that I got the doll."

Bertha was flabbergasted. She was speechless. Her mind tried to comprehend what happened just now, but it was beyond her horizons.

She looked past Ruth to see the woman took her crying daughter back to her home. Bertha felt bad for the little girl. That doll was rightfully hers and not Ruth's.

"Why did she give this doll to you?"

"Because I convinced her mother. You only teach me that we can make people understand with the right words. Now let's play with my new doll!" Ruth ran inside the house, lost in her world.

But Bertha was shaken by the incident. She kept staring at her daughter's smiling face from a distance with numerous questions on her mind.***

Ruth's eyes flew open, and she inhaled deeply. Why that memory sudden resurfaced?

How strange?! She thought.

She stood up and went washing her face. She was tired and needed some rest. That was the only possible reason why her mind went into those random directions, right?

She dried her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Even after minutes, that memory from childhood kept running in her head.

She should not think about those things. It happened only because of what happened with Florence. Repeating that over and over, she decided to go to sleep.

A yawn came out of her mouth, and she did not hide it.. She got into her bed with the thought that the next day would be better than today.