CHIMNEY SWEEP
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Winter 2015
I keep my eyes on the Robert Burns poem in English class. The fluorescent lights are beating down on the pages of the textbook, making me feel sluggish. There are no windows in this place. No way to tell the time either. Our professor doesn't let us use our phones.
My eyelids are drooping but I keep trying to keep myself awake the best that I can. I love my class, but my professor keeps dragging on about the same subject. I see that the other students are also trying hard to stay awake. One even has two cans of Red Bull and is now on their second.
The professor is now done lecturing on Robert Burns and now we are starting on a William Blake poem.
“So how many of you are familiar with Mary Poppins?”
My goodness, is he really asking this question? Of course we are familiar with Mary Poppins. I look around the class to see if there are any hands not raised. The entire class knows. It's just as I thought. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8WIEB0eRuB
”What are your opinions of the chimney sweeps in the movie?”742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6wUhRhMB0L
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One student raises her hand. He gestures with his hand for her to answer. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdAWIULOdSy
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“They're happy and joyful of course. Like they loved their job a lot.”742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0DF3IV4LsC
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“The reality is far different than the fiction,” he says, smiling, a sort of sadness in his eyes. “The reality was harrowing... Awful. These people were the lowest in society. Think Dickensian and Oliver Twist but perhaps a little worse.”742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0XtXMpm1dm
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I begin to wonder what life was like for the young boys who were in that era, struggling to get by. These boys were most likely the eldest of a too-large family. The thought saddens me but it also reminds me of the bravery of these children.
But what if there's a girl in the mix?
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Winter 1800 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8FdzJpyaWL
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I wake to the sound of my parents outside the bedroom door. I share this room with my siblings, all ten of them. They are snoring peacefully, their tiny bellies rising in syncopated rhythm. The moonlight is shining through the window. My heart sinks at the thought that stays within my mind. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB3aLjgyc1g
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I know what and who my parents are arguing about. Me. I hear my name being mentioned. I close my eyes, fighting away the tears that are prickling them. I hate it when my parents argue... Now, I feel like I must go out of the room. I must know whether or not I am to leave this home forever. I still hear them mentioning my name. 10742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKyuPSwoc3L
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I open the door and see them at the end of the corridor. Our home is small. Far too small for our family of twelve. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIgcwJSP0U
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“Mum,” I say, running up to her. “What is it?” 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdJHJmbdeZe
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She flails her arms, looking at my father then at me, her dark eyes a tempestuous storm. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwPBZrE6srj
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“Your drunk of a father landed in debtor's prison again. He owes fifty pounds. Fifty pounds! We don't even 'ave that in our savings. I dunno what to do.” She sobs, her entire body trembling as her knees fall to the floor. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdASiHrql4D
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“Again? Don't you ever think of your family?” I ask, glaring at him. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwf60hmOLZz
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He ignores my question as I remain, kneeling by my mother, soothing her and feeling her hot tears against my nightgown. Soon her tears become my tears. How are we going to live now that my father is going to debtor's prison? It's most likely for life. I can't live there with him. Not like that. It wasn't the first time, too. Last year, he ended up in debtor's prison for neglecting to pay back his debtor, Mr. Pleasant. By some miracle, a kind Christmas angel paid all my father's debts. But with his drinking and gambling, he landed in the good graces of the ever so honorable Mr. Pleasant. Some name, Mr. Pleasant. The thought of him makes me cringe with his yellow teeth and hands. His roving eye.
"Mum, what's going to happen to all of us?” My voice is thick.
She sniffles. “You 'ave to find something, Charlie. You're the oldest. You're twelve but you look seven. You're skinny enough and small enough to be a chimney sweep. You can pretend to be a boy for your Pa's sake." Her eyes are bleak. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuVDoc5pynq
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The thought is a horrible one. How can she think of such a thing for me? I can't just pretend to be a boy. Why can't they just send off Michael instead? He's younger than me but has more potential to be a chimney sweep.
“Send Michael. I'm not doing it.”
She frowns. “Too late. Too late. The man is coming tonight. Go dress like a boy.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You can help your Pa get out of prison faster...” She takes my hand, looking at me with desperation, a longing for a chance at happiness. “Please do it for us.”
I sigh. She is right. She is always right. I will go and help my father get out of prison faster.
#
I walk down the lonely, bleak streets of London. In the sky, ribbons of burgundy and orange intertwining with each other. The sun is due to rise at any moment. Hopefully today will be a sunny day... But the chill... the chill is burying itself deep within my bones. I should be used to this by now but I am nothing but a walking skeleton.
I smell the aroma of fresh meat pies and my mouth waters. Will I be able to eat these again once I make some money? My stomach rumbles. I barely had time for my meager breakfast of stale toast.
I look up at the sky, hoping that God will save me from my current situation. Why I have to be a chimney sweep, I have no idea. But all I know and feel in my heart is that whatever happens, I will make this an adventure.
The man barely speaks to me at all but keeps looking at me with a sidelong glance. My heart skips a beat. What if he notices that I'm no boy at all? I nearly trip on my pants -- Mum didn't make them short enough. They're Pa's old pants that don't fit him anymore. I even heard Pa saying, when Ma fit that he wished I was a boy. Then that way, I would be of use to the family. Mum, of course, reprimanded him. Told him that I was a strong girl and I would and could take on anything.
“You,” the man says. “Charlie. Meet those boys there. They'll teach you the ropes.”
I walk towards the group of boys who are older than me. They look so, so thin. One of them is even coughing, hacking his life away. My heart squeezes. What have I done? Why am I even here? I'm no boy at all. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXUpNF6zruh
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”Nervous, eh? You're fresh meat. Follow us and we'll teach you. We'll teach you right. Master Harris knows exactly what to do. You follow his words too.”742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOS5CdJeg5t
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We all walk up to the roof of a home. It is one of those homes I dream of living in. The rooftop is filled with soot. One of the boys hands me my broom and points to the chimney. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaOL0aC6f1v
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“Sweeping the roof's easy enough, but it's the chimney that's the 'ard part. You're small enough, boy.” Master Harris says, his eyes narrowing. “You can 'andle it just fine.” 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCPdSjZu0Kp
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I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting myself become a boy. If I'm going to do this part right, I have to make sure I'm believable. The other, taller boys are already sweeping the roof.
Master Harris shoves me and says, “Didn't you just 'ear what I said, you dimwit? Go in the chimney and sweep it!”
I wince. The tears prickling my eyes. Already getting hurt by the master isn't something I expected to happen. I stumble to the chimney of this home and climb my way up.
“Faster!” Master Harris says. “Faster, faster, faster!”
I'm already in. The smell of old and new smoke is overpowering. I cannot help but cough. I can feel the soot in my mouth. I try spitting it out but it's no use. I moan as I hold my broom and begin sweeping again. The soot is now on my entire body, and perhaps even in my ears and eyes. 742Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLOsFSPauXX
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“Faster!” Master Harris says. “Or I'll come there myself, pull you out and beat you!"
I work as fast as I can, trying my very best to get the work done. As I am nearly done, I try getting out but my foot is caught. I breathe in more soot as I grunt and attempt to move myself out. My shoes fall but it's too late. I am falling along with my shoes. I land in the fireplace on my back. It's too late now. If it weren't for Master Harris yelling at me... I would be back on the rooftop...
“Oh my word!”
“My love, what is it?”
“Oh... Not another poor chap. That's the fifth one this month... May he rest in peace... Poor child.”
I see my body on the floor. I see everything. The people surrounding me. I look up and see a great light. A beautiful woman is taking me in her arms, calling me home.
#
Winter 2015
“So class, chimney sweeps were heavily abused by their masters. Most died in the chimney, being too tall or too little to handle it. Some died after inhaling too much soot. It was a grim, grim time. And Blake's lisping child saying 'weep, 'weep, definitely carries dual meaning. Now for your project, I want you to write about Blake's two chimney sweep poems from Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience.”
I blink. Maybe this shouldn't be so hard after all.
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