Dot is one of my favorite accomplishments.  The character wasn’t in my original outline for Senta and the Steel Dragon.  She was created on the fly because Eamon Shrubb needed a wife.  Even so, I managed to come up with what I think a memorable character.  I think she is based a little bit on a woman I met twice many years ago, the wife of a coworker, who, like Dot, was a redhead and was deaf.

He arrived back at the police station office to find Dot Shrubb in a pretty pink dress that highlighted her copper-colored hair.  She was a thin, but pretty girl, of seventeen who had arrived in Port Dechantagne a year ago, without any family, and had stolen the heart of Eamon Shrubb the first time he laid eyes upon her.

“Saba,” she said, in the nasal voice of someone who has been deaf all their life.

“Looking for Eamon?” he asked, keeping his face toward her, so that she could read his lips.

She nodded.

“You two were fighting again.”

She punched the palm of her left hand with her right fist.

“What about?”

She hesitated for a moment, and then made a rocking baby motion with her arms folded.

“You’re expecting?”

“Huh?”

“Baby.  You’re going to have a baby?”

She nodded, smiling.

“Then why were you fighting?  Doesn’t he want a baby?”

“Name,” she said.

“Kafira,” Saba muttered.

At that moment, Eamon opened the office door.  He paused about halfway inside, looking at his wife the way a munitions expert looks at a bomb that didn’t go off as intended.  She looked at the floor.  After a moment, the constable stepped inside.

“You nesh berk,” said Saba.  Eamon looked at him in surprise.  “You take your wife home and see to her.  I may not have two and a half months experience being married, but even I know you don’t fight with a woman who’s expecting.”

“She wanted to name the baby Yadira.”

“What’s wrong with that?” demanded Saba.

“Come on!  That’s the worst name in the world.”

“My mother’s name,” said Dot.

“That happens to be my mother’s name, too,” said Saba.

“Oh, yeah.  I forgot about that,” said Eamon.

“It’s not like Eamon’s a brilliant name.”

“I don’t want to name it Eamon either.  If it’s a boy I want to name it Darsham, and if it’s a girl I want to name it Daria.”

“Darsham Shrubb?  Why don’t you just name it ‘kick my ass on the way to school’ and have done with it.”

Eamon ballooned his cheeks out and rolled his eyes back to think for a moment.  “It doesn’t sound that good when you put it all together, does it?”

“Here’s my advice, Mr. I’ve-been-married-two-and-a-half-months.  Take the rest of the day off and take your wife home.  Make her a cup of tea and rub her feet.  Then let her decide what to name the baby.  You can go get a kitten from Mrs. Gyffington, and name it Darsham, or Daria, or whatever the bloody hell you want to name it.”

“That’s right,” said Dot, taking Eamon by the arm.  Then she said, “Rub my feet,” leading Saba to believe that she had missed most of what he had said.

“You don’t mind if I take the afternoon?” asked Eamon.  He turned his head slightly, so that his lips were not visible to his wife.  “If I rub her feet, she’ll be all rumpy-pumpy.”

“Go!”

The two left the office, arm in arm.  As soon as they were gone, Saba stepped back through the supply room and into cell number one.  Setting his helmet beside the cot, he lay down and took a nap.

The introduction of the character Franka Rocanna in The Drache Girl is really set up for what happens to the character in The Two Dragons.  I have liked the name Franka since seeing Run Lola Run starring Franka Potenta (who also starred in The Bourne Identity and whom they killed off completely ruining the rest of the series for me).  I think someday I’ll give the name to another character.

The cuckoo clock on the office wall at M&S Coal had never struck Radley Staff as looking particularly professional.  Mrs. Fandice had purchased it when funds for an office clock had been appropriated, and as no one else seemed to mind it, Staff had said nothing.  It was so ornate that it took him a moment to read the hands.  It was six forty five.  He had just come down to the office from the apartments above and had not expected to find anyone at work yet.  But Mr. Buttermore, Mrs. Fandice, and Miss Vanita were already at their desks.  Miss Rocanna was putting her wrap back on.

“Going out, Miss Rocanna?” he asked.

“I thought I would go around the corner and bring back muffins for the office.”

“What a splendid idea,” said Buttermore.

“Hold a moment, I’ll go with you,” said Staff.

He took his coat from the peg and threw it on and then opened the door for Miss Rocanna.  She nodded and stepped through the portal and Staff followed her.  It was still cool and fog hung in patches throughout the town.  The Pfennig store and Mrs. Bratihn’s dress shop were easy enough to see, but the houses in the other direction were just large shapes in the mist.

Staff offered his elbow and Miss Rocanna took it.  Together they walked around the corner and into the square.  It was early, but activity associated with business had already begun for the day.  Mrs. Bratihn walked across the square from the south toward her dress shop.  Mr. Parnorsham was already inside the Pfennig Store, at that moment cleaning the inside of the shop window.  Aalwijn Finkler stepped out the door of the bakery to shake out a rug.

There was a steam carriage parked at the edge of the square, just next to the gate in the emergency wall.  A woman in a bright blue dress with a large flower-covered hat sat at the steering wheel.  From his angle, Staff couldn’t tell if it was Iolanthe or Yuah.  Mother Linton stood at the side of the vehicle and carried on a conversation with the woman—whoever it was.  Staff watched carefully, and though he couldn’t discern the identity of the driver, it became obvious that the discussion between her and the priest was becoming heated.  He felt a jerk on his arm as Miss Rocanna stopped.

“I don’t care to be ignored.”

“Sorry.  I was just trying to see if that was the Governor.”

“It is.”

“How can you tell?  It could be Mrs. Dechantagne.”

“No.  It’s the Governor.  You can tell by her posture.”

“Pop pop pop,” rang out to the east.

“Those are gunshots,” said Staff, looking off in that direction.