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“You can go.”
The words ring through her head as the train lightly shakes her body back and forth.
“The boss wants to see you.” A fellow worker had said, nudging her from their place beside her on the assembly line. They always had been a welcome smile. A kind affirmation. It’s a pity, she thinks, that she does not know their name. That they do not know their own name. They were here much longer than she had. “You can’t keep him waiting. Better go.”
She didn’t know she’d never see them again.
“You can go.” He had said, not looking up at her from his paperwork, still absently signing paper after paper.
“What? Why would I-“
“I said you can go. My wife is waiting on the train to take spring up. She’s waiting on you. Go, girl.”
Eurydice isn’t sure why, but the deep growl of his voice reverberates through her and sends her running. It’s almost a run- as close as her body can make it anymore. She can’t remember eating- why would she, can’t starve to death in Hadestown. She can’t remember caring. Everyday it’s clocking in. Clocking in. Clocking in. Whats your name? Eurydice. Eurydice is soon replaced with a pause. Eurydice is replaced with I don’t know.
Vaguely, she can remember a face. A face with a smile that reaches his hazel eyes. She can remember a feeling that sits deep in her chest, she thinks that maybe it had been love. She can remember a name. She may forget her own, but she won’t ever forget this. Orpheus. She likes to think that’s the name of the man. He seems like an Orpheus.
“You can go.”
She climbs the steps of the train slowly, unsure what to make of the bright smile spread across Persephone’s face.
Eurydice forced her lips to upturn into a smile as she sat on a bench on the opposite side of the car from Persephone, who raised an eyebrow at her before crossing over and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She pretended not to notice the way Persephone loosened her grip when her gentle hands caught over the protruding bones of her spine, or the way her smile dropped when Eurydice didn’t show some excitement.
“Aren’t you excited to see them? Your sweet lil family?” Persephone squeezes her, and Eurydice cocks her head, forcing a smile.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah..of course.” She manages through clenched teeth, before her attention is back on the ground.
Didn’t seem like much of a family, the pretty boy in her dreams. He was a singer, a poet, she can remember that. Something about his voice sticking to some core part of her being that even years of hard work could not erase.
Persephone was tempted to press on, to ask the young woman why she wasn’t overjoyed at the thought of going home and seeing the family she did everything for, yet she decided not to, afraid of the truth whatever it could be.
“You should rest. They’re going to be so excited to see you, Eurydice, you won’t be getting much sleep!” Persephone pats her knee gently, grimacing at the way the leather dwarfs Eurydice’s tiny frame.
“Right..of course, thank you.” Eurydice is curled into herself before she realizes it, body leaning on the wall of the car entirely for support. What was he going to think of her? She wasn’t much more than bones- she counted her ribs in the mirror that morning. She wasn’t even sure what her own name was- Eurydice, she knew for sure now. What would he think. That poet in her heart, what would he think when he realized she gave up and succumbed to the ways of Hadestown, where her memories were nothing more than machinery operation. What would he think of a girl he used to love, nothing more than a fragile shell of bone.
Eurydice caught her reflection in the mirror and tried to straighten up a little. SHe wiped at the dirt under her eyes until she realized it was deep circles resulting from lack of sleep. Her bangs were long grown out, hair now brushing the top of her collarbones. The patches of dirt on her arms, much like her eyes, proved to be deep, bruised discoloration likely resulting from the hard labor she performed day in and day out. This certainly wasn’t the woman the man in her memories would want.
Eurydice could tell when they started to near the surface, with the way ache settled in her bones. She could not feel the wear and tear on her body in the underground. Could not feel the way her body screamed for rest after lifting things multiple times her size. Did not feel hunger- you cannot die again, starved or not. The way the bruises on her body ached in a dull, constant throb that reminded her of her mistreatment of her body. Why would anyone want to come back to this, after knowing numbness.
The real sign that they reached the top was the way the train halted to a stop, slamming on breaks that sent Eurydice’s frail body into the seat infront of her. Persephone seemed ready for it, and the way she reached for Eurydice felt maternal in a way she couldn’t quite understand. Immediately Eurydice was hit with something for the woman, bordering admiration. Appropriate, she decides, that the first emotion she feels again is gratitude for this woman who no doubt pushed for her freedom.
“Come on chickadee, we can’t keep everyone waiting for Spring too long!” Persephone threads her arm around Eurydice, and helps her slowly descend the staircase.
The crowd awaiting Persephone is wild and deafening in a way that makes Eurydice want to retreat to the train and hide. It is overwhelming and frightening in the way people oogle at her like she is a prized dog out for show, the way they whisper as she passes at Persephone’s side, the woman the only thing grounding her to this moment.
Eurydice can manage polite smiles, which become more genuine as they wade through the crowd. Her heart stops beating, if it is even beating to begin with, when she sees a familiar smile.
He is real and better than she could even imagine. Just looking at him sends something through her, like electricity activating every nerve in her body at once. She isn’t aware that her breathing sped up until it becomes hard to continue, when something catches in her throat and she realizes she’s crying.
“ Orpheus.” The name falls from her lips before she can fully process that yes, this is the one thing she can remember from being alive. This tall, gangly man with a smile that reaches his hazel eyes and an aura about him that just exudes goodness.
She can’t hear him, but she can read the word that falls from his lips as her name. She can’t hear it but knows it sounds like a prayer, better than any song she’ll ever heat. Eurydice starts to pull Persephone, a magnet inside her wanting nothing more than to throw herself against the chest of the man in his well loved overalls.
“That’s Orpheus.” She manages to Persephone through the tears streaming steadily down her face. “That’s my orpheus.”
“That’s your Orpheus.” Persephone squeezes her hand and is about to let go, to watch the young girl take off for the arms of her love, when the girl turns still as stone beside her.
“...Persephone?” Eurydice asks, but her voice is cold, the affection there just moments prior long gone, replaced with ice in the way she speaks. Her gaze is no longer locked on Orpheus, but instead, the tiny child beside him. She doesn’t look much older than two, maybe not even that old, but Eurydice can’t remember any child in her past well enough to remember development.
“...persephone.” This time it’s a whisper, not ice but heartbreak. There is pain written on her face now, the tears that had previously been joyous now anything but.
She sees the man mouth her name again, confusion spreading across the features of his face. The toddler beside him tugs at his hand, pointing at Eurydice with something she thinks may be excitement. He scoops her up to sit her on his hip, and his confusion is replaced with a smile as the little girl continues to point at her.
“Eurydice, honeybee, whats wrong?” Persephone stops with her, craning her head to look at her.
“What’s going on?” Eurydice asks bluntly, still unmoving towards Orpheus. “Did he let me go just so I could see that Orpheus...so I could see that he moved on? Why did he let me go for this?” Of course she wanted him to be happy- she could feel how much she must have loved him just by the way her heart yearns for her to go closer. She can’t explain it either, in the way she feels about the little girl. It’s a different kind of yearning she doesn’t even know how to begin explaining. It’s like in some prior life her soul was so tightly connected to that of the child that there is some remnant there, drawing her closer and urging her to protect her. “Persephone, where is her mother?” She was not naive enough to believe that the girl wasn’t Orpheus’s with the way she laid her head on his shoulder and cuddled into his shoulder. The way he rocked her just a little, lips moving at the pace that he was clearly singing something to her. That was his daughter, now where was the mother.
“Who’s baby is that?”
It was Persephone’s turn to feel her heart fall from her chest, smile dropping from her face when it hit her. She tightened her grip on Eurydice’s elbow, pausing to turn them face to face. “Eurydice, what do you mean?”
“The one Orpheus is holding..” She nods her head towards them, at the same time Persephone makes eye contact with Orpheus, shaking her head at the young man. Eurydice couldn’t see the way Orpheus’ demeanor changed, the way it looked like someone took all the air out of him and deflated his joy. It was a short shake of the head from Persephone, to confirm a fear none of them knew they had.
She doesn’t remember her.
“Persephone..please...who’s baby is that?”
“Oh honey..” Persephone pauses to kiss her forehead, her hand coming to rest on her cheek. Orpheus approaches them in the middle of this gentle embrace, standing just behind Eurydice.
Persephone leans in, making eye contact with Eurydice before whispering. “Oh sweetheart, that’s your baby.”
Eurydice felt her blood run thin, the world spinning rapidly around her. “What? No..no I don’t have a baby, Persephone.” Her voice barely reaches the volume of a whisper before she’s leaning on Persephone to steady herself.
“Yes, baby, you do. Three years ago this fall...I remember stepping off the train to see you with this little baby against your chest. You didn’t put her down for six whole months.” Persephone is brushing hair behind her ear, holding her face gently in her hands. “You gave her to me to bring to Orpheus two years ago today.”
Eurydice wanted to deny it, wanted to not believe it was possible.
Why would they lie, Eurydice? Why would they say this baby was yours if she wasn’t?
“I...I don’t remember a baby.” Eurydice whispers, and suddenly it feels like the soot that has long since settled in her lungs is now blocking her ability to breath, like she’s going to suffocate from panic. “What kind of mother doesn’t remember her own baby, Persephone?”
She knew it could not be a lie, she knew from looking at the little girl that yes, she may look like her, but that her heart was inexplicably calling for her. Yes, she could believe this was her child if she could only have remembered her.
It was like years of abuse on her body hit at once, physical and emotional trauma crashing into her and bringing her down. Down to her knees, down to the ground. The words around her sound like they are being spoken above water as she drowns.
Catch her, Orpheus.
She can hear, before she vaguely feels someone’s arms on her, and everything goes dark.
Eurydice isn’t sure how long she was out, or even where she is, when she opens her eyes. The lumpy mattress beneath her feels like a cloud in comparison to the one she had spent the last years on. There’s a blanket on top of her- thin, with holes that had been artfully patched with rainbow pieces of cloth- and well used, soft sheets beneath her. It’s familiar, she’s entirely sure that this bed belongs to Orpheus and that she has spent many nights both awake and asleep wrapped in his arms here.
She lets out a whimper as she turns on her side, the movement aching deep in her bones, muscles wary from years of unkind work to them. She absently realized she was not wearing the leather overalls any longer, but rather soft, loose pants and the cream wrap still tightly wrapped around her breasts. She runs a hand over her exposed abdomen, stopping to count her ribs again. Is this what being alive would be?
She expected to be cold, despite the summer air, from being so exposed. The blanket, that did enough, but what struck her most was the pure heat radiating from beside her.
Oh.
Eurydice turns on her side, to face the little girl that was solidly asleep next to her. She was pressed so close to her Eurydice isn’t sure how she didn’t notice her presence sooner. This toddler was so tightly pressed to her side, that if it weren’t for the thin clothes they wore, Eurydice wouldn’t be able to tell where one stopped and the other began.
She didn’t know what to make of this. That this little human trusted her so completely without knowing her-
Of course she knows you, Eurydice, you gave birth to her. You made her.
Experimentally, she raised a hand to touch her little face, thumb brushing hair from her eyes. She noted the way she sucked on her thumb in her sleep, and the way the other hand was gripping onto the cream cloth around Eurydice’s own chest, like she was anchoring them both.
Eurydice surveyed her, this little sleeping girl. She had her nose, and dark hair that was undeniably hers. In her sleep she could tell the shape of her eyes were that of Orpheus, though the color was indeterminate as she slept.
Even her lips. Her lips were so much like Eurydice’s own, she was sure that if she had looked in the mirror twenty years ago she would have looked much like this.
Yes. She could believe that somehow this was her daughter. That what Persephone said, must have been true- that somehow, yes, she had a baby she’s forgotten yet somehow didn’t forget her.
“I’m sorry.” Eurydice whispers, running a hand over her little face, wrapping a frail arm around her body. “I’m sorry, I can’t even remember your name.” She kisses her on the cheek, and tries to pull her closer. It’s another moment of shame, when she tugs and the little body doesn’t budge.
You aren’t strong enough to lift her, Eurydice.
She settles for moving closer to her, fingers lacing into her hair and gently threading her fingers through the dark curls, much like her own. Eurydice is crying before she realizes it, tears falling into the baby’s hair, lost in her own guilt of forgetting.
The door peaks open, and Orpheus slips in, standing by the frame. “...she wanted to stay with you. We told you to leave you to rest, but she insisted. Stubborn, she got that from you. She swears she was going to protect you when you slept.”
His hands wring together nervously, as he speaks to Eurydice. His Eurydice, now merely bones wrapped in skin, covered in bruises. His Eurydice, who didn’t remember the sacrifice after sacrifice she made for them, for the baby who wanted nothing more than to never leave her arms.
“Thats okay.” Eurydice promised, turning to look at him. “I’m so sorry Orpheus. I’m sorry I let myself forget- I want to remember..I wish I remembered.”
“You will!” Orpheus promises, though he can’t be sure. This is unprecedented. Noone- save for himself- walks out of hell. “You’ll remember. And if you don’t, I promise, I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I’ll tell you everything.”
“You love me, I know that. I remember that. The details aren’t there but..you love me. And I love you.” Eurydice reaches a hand out to him, asking him to come closer. “I want to love her Orpheus.”
“I’d still walk to the end of time to be with you.” He lays in bed beside her, wrapping a strong arm around her and the baby both. “I remember the day I saw you the first time. It felt just like that when Persephone gave me her.”
He kisses her cheek, burying her face in his neck. “I love you so much, Eurydice. So so much. Till the end of time.”
Eurydice twists in his arms, pulling his lips to hers firmly, in a moment of determination. Her hand cups his face, thumb trailing along his jaw. She’s about to bite his lip, when she pulls away with a gasp. “ Orpheus.” She whispers, eyes looking over his face, over and over. “You.. come home with me.”
“What, we are home.”
“Those were the first words you said to me.” She grasps at his face, desperate to pull him closer.
“Eurydice- i’m so sorry.” If she remembered it all, she remembered that moment. That moment that arguably destroyed their future. “I am so sorry.”
“No..no. i’m here now. Don’t be sorry. I forgave you, I must have-” She searched her memories for that of the baby beside her, much to her own failure “Orpheus, i’m sorry.”
Sorry for abandoning him, sorry for leaving when things got rough.
“You’re here now, ‘rydice. Thats what matters.” Orpheus kisses her again, their foreheads pressed closely together. “I’m going to get you something to eat.. I’ll be right back!”
He practically falls out of bed, as he runs out of the room, surely to tell Persephone that she is awake as well as bring food. Food. The thought of a meal makes her ache deep in her gut, and she is so far distracted by the thought of a meal that she doesn’t notice the stirring beside her.
“...mama?” The voice is incredibly sweet, and Eurydice feels her heart fall when she hears the word. She is drawn to her voice, and something deep in her wants nothing more than to hold her in her arms forever. “You know me, mama?” Eurydice has to bite her lip, and faces forward so she does not have to look at her and admit that no, you know me but i dont know you.
“Mama..” The little girl tugs at her arm, drawing her attention. “I made this.”
Eurydice turns, willing the tears to stop as she looks at the baby beside her. In her tiny hand is a red flower, little, but fully bloomed.
“I..” Eurydice feels like a boulder hit her chest, as the little girl crawls on her lap and offers her the flower. “You made this?”
The toddler smiles as she tucks the flower in Eurydice’s hair. “Daddy does it too!”
Yes, Eurydice can recall that Orpheus does this, and feels an instinctive need to hold the baby tighter in her arms.
“Daddy says i’m your springtime baby, mama, and thats why I make them! Because flowers come in the spring with Sephy!”
Your springtime baby..
“ I love you more than spring, never forget that.”
Eurydice gasps, eyes locking on the brilliant hazel ones of her daughter. “Oh, sweetheart..”
Yes. Her sweet, spring baby. She can feel it, love deep in her heart, the kind of love that brought forth this baby in a world of dead, the same kind of love that got Eurydice to relinquish her to Orpheus.
It all hit like the train to Hadestown, like it plowed her right in the chest.
Every little smile, every time she fell asleep in her arms, saying goodbye.
Yes. She can remember her now, part of her heart walking around out of her body. How could she forget, how could she forget her baby.
“Oh hello, Ophelia.”