The Ultimate Sacrifice

The sway of her hips as she sauntered by had the men gawking. No one knew who she was or where she was from. She had alighted from the train two months ago and nothing had remained the same since then. She looked like every man's wet dream wrapped up in voluptuous feminine perfection. The women watched their men ogling her and muttered beneath their breath, betraying the presence of the green-eyed monster called jealousy. A middle aged woman smacked her husband angrily on the shoulder to regain his attention.

Sarah neither looked right nor left but continued to sashay deliberately and gracefully by. Without looking, she knew there were several men staring lustfully and several woman casting hateful glares at her departing figure. Many of the men, including the clergy, would come knocking on her door soon, begging to pay any price for her services. She knew she would take in as many as she could and charge each of them exorbitantly for their folly. Although she derived no joy nor victory from the thoughts, she felt a tiny sense of accomplishment. Her time here was almost over. She was pretty close to hitting her mark and soon she would leave.

As soon as she turned a corner and walked out of the men's line of vision, the assaults began but she was prepared. Sarah picked up her pace and began to walk less suggestively and much faster. She however wasn't fast enough because pretty soon, an egg hit her squarely of the left cheek. It splattered messily and dripped down her neck but she did not raise a hand to wipe at it. A tomato hit her in the back, leaving a vivid reddish stain on her yellow blouse. An orange hit her shoulder hard, but Sarah ignored the indignities like they were nothing.

She did not lower her head in shame but walked as regally as she could manage at such a fast pace, praying not to be hit by any sharp or dangerous projectile. Soon she was out of sight and close to her humble abode. She stepped in quickly and locked the door behind her. Only then did she permit any show of weakness. She sagged against the door, weeping brokenly as she wiped the sliminess of the egg off her cheek. After a few minutes, she reached for her son's picture. She held the picture against her breasts as she began to dial a number. She began to speak quietly into the phone. "Thanks for keeping him on life support this long Doc. I will be back from my business trip within a week to settle the backlog of bills and we can go ahead with the surgery". She ended the call, straightened her shoulders resolutely and stepped into the shower. She was ready to finish what she had started, no matter the cost.