Jacqueline was a street ragamuffin. Growing up as a child without parents was a pain as she constantly went toe-to-toe with the lemons life constantly threw at her, figuring out her own path all by herself on the harsh streets of Marseille, France. Poor lassie. She couldn't even speak French well when she was found by another street hobo, old man Mathéo trying to rustle up some food the bright hipster Le Cours Julien street. She was just six at that time and was already a surviver. Mathéo had pity on her and took her in, considering that if she was going to live homeless, then she ought to do it the right way.
Now Jacqueline was nine. The stench of rotten eggs and fish that usually clouded the alleyways was the first stimulus she would pick up every morning, reminding her that she was alive. On one fateful morning, the sun rays seemed to have been a little hotter than other usual mornings as though someone had moved the sun closer to the earth. The various car windshields each reflected its own large portion of light. Jacqueline was hungry. Well, that wasn't new, you know, waking up with a rumbling stomach. She laid down with her head on old man Mathéo's belly who laid his head on an abandoned backpack. Their bed was newspaper pages laid out on the hard rocky path. Mathéo had been sick for a few days so she took it upon herself those few days, even that particular day to go look for a 'decent meal' all by herself.
Without wasting any more time, she took up her rusty ol' brown hobo bag which she found in the trash a few months back and got up. It was a wonder how the sun was so hot in spite of the sparse breezes that were let loose. With her darkened and bruised feet, she walked out of the alleyway and moved away from that place. That was morning time so people had to still be going to work. She sat by the roadside that hot morning in a cross-legged position and did what she had been doing for almost all her life. With her hobo bag wide open to receive spare change from the pedestrians who walked by, she opened up her palms right in front of her and unleashed her puppy-dog eyes which usually reeled in some sympathetic faces from the targets.
Jacqueline's hair was pitch black and long. Of course, she hadn't cut her hair in a long long while. Up close, you could actually see the lice that would jump up and down on her head, accompanied by several "french flies" that followed her everywhere. Maybe what had drawn some people to her were her deep dimples that would always show when she would smile. Her brown eyes also complemented her fair hairy skin. After more than three hours, she looked into her bag once more and counted how much money she had gotten. With her tiny voice, she began to count;
"Un, deux, trois...cinq...neuf, dix...."
It was ten Euros and twenty five cents. With a sparkle in her eyes, she beamed into the bag. "Enough for the whole day!", she must have thought to herself. It was afternoon time now and the sun smiled widely at the earth. Despite her sufferings under the hot sun for years, Jacqueline was still very fair. She took her bag and ran through the streets to the nearest fruit store. It wasn't hard to read the facial expression of the fruit seller when Jacqueline arrived. It was more of an "oh no. More fruit flies" kind of expression on his face. Now there was nothing inherently wrong with Jacqueline. The problem was that she was a poor and wretched street girl in a beautiful city like Marseille.
After purchasing some bananas and nuts, she thanked the fruit seller and scurried away quickly to get back to her old pal. This time, she was glad that there was some left over change that could be used for another day. As she got to the entrance of the alleyway where ill Mathéo stayed, a female voice came from behind her;
"Coucou!"
Jacqueline looked back and saw a tall black woman walking briskly towards her. She wore a plain white top tucked into straight-cut black trousers with white stripes and an orange blazer on top of it. For her feet, she wore black kitten heels. Behind her was a tall white man with blonde hair who followed her in a black tuxedo. Of course, they were so tall to her,–because she was so small–but in reality, they were both of average height. When the both of them had gotten to her, the lady bent over towards her with a smiling face and asked in English,
"What's your name, little girl?"
The man in a tuxedo translated the question to French for Jacqueline, "Comment t'appelles-tu, petite fille?" It was then that she realized that whoever this lady was, she could definitely not speak French.
"Jacqueline. Je m'appelle Jacqueline"
The woman replied, "ah, Jacqueline. That's a beautiful name, huh? What are you doing here all by yourself? Where are your parents?" The man in the tux translated these words to Jacqueline.
She looked into the alleyway where Mathéo was lying down and then looked back at the rather strange lady who now softly held her left shoulder. She replied, "Je ne sais pas. Ils m'ont quitté."
"She says she doesn't know where they are. They left her," said the man to the lady.
Now the lady's facial expression had changed. It was evident that she became more concerned and took more pity on young Jacqueline. Now taking a hold of her palm, she faintly smiled at her.
"I'm Naomi. This is Ben. My parents left me too when I was a little girl." At that, Ben translated what she said to Jacqueline. Naomi grabbed hold of Jacqueline's thick long black hair and stroked it. Her hair was so disorganized and smelly, filled with so much dirt. Even though Jacqueline didn't have nice clothes or a tall body, her hair was definitely her crown. It was thick and soft.
"You have such beautiful hair," Naomi said while looking into a confused Jacqueline's eyes. When it was translated to her in French, she looked to the ground and quietly said,
"Merci."
Naomi gently raised her head up with her hand and smiled at her. "I'm a fashion director. Why don't you come with me? I would take care of you," Naomi said. When Jacqueline heard the meaning of what she said in French, she took Naomi's palm off her shoulder and took a step back. Just then, Mathéo came out of the alleyway where he laid. Scratching his grey beard, he looked at the three of them who had been on the sidewalk for a while with confusion. Without even giving him chance to speak a word, Jacqueline dropped the nylon bag of fruits on the ground and ran to him and hugged him tightly. She went and stood behind him and looked with fright at the strange man and woman who had been talking to her.
Ben and Mathéo began to converse. He explained to him that they wanted to take Jacqueline away so she could become a model as she was cute and had beautiful hair. After a short conversation between the two of them, Mathéo turned to Jacqueline who was already crying and knelt down on one knee. He raised her chin up, looked at her straight in the face and smiled faintly. With his thumb, he wiped off the tears that rolled down her face. Then he took off his old brown hat which he wore most of the time to cover his head which grew grey hair. He put the hat on Jacqueline's head and nodded. They both spoke in French for about ten minutes and then hugged each other.
Mathéo took her hand and got up to his feet. He handed her over to Naomi and said in English, "keep her safe for me." Naomi looked with surprise at Mathéo because he spoke English. She gave him a nod of affirmation and took Jacqueline by the hand. Naomi and Ben turned back with Jacqueline and began to walk towards a black SUV that was parked close to the corner of the street. As they moved further from Mathéo, Jacqueline kept her gaze back at him. She was so sad that she'd have to leave her best friend. Mathéo looked on with a smile on his face. With tears coming out of his eyes, he waved at her until she got into the SUV. He then, with his hairy arm picked up his fruits and went back into the alley.
edited on Canva