The Girl reluctantly took the stackful of advertisements through the bars. Now that she had a wider limited radius she could travel in, the Girl decided to go back back to the Lopsided Hotel again. There was the possibility of getting employment there now that she could walk on the floors she was restricted from.
She was curious as to how the Manager there had used her smell to his advantage. Strangely enough, the Patron was ignorant about what he’d done. “You can’t expect me to know everything everybody does!”
It was still the middle of the night, and the Girl was starting to feel tired. At this point, even temporary lodgings would be appreciated. She also wasn’t expecting the Manager to be waiting for her to arrive.
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up here again.”
“I was hoping maybe you forgot? It’s been such a long time.”
“You left just yesterday.”
“Gosh, how time flies. You lose track of time in this city.”
“You couldn’t find anyplace else to rent out, could you?”
Once again, the information about her travels was accurate. It was like everybody had access to a secret network she wasn’t privy to. “Well, I’m guessing you weren’t able to fill in the room I last occupied?”
“Actually, there were some willing guests who were more than happy to take residence up there.”
She turned her head in surprise. There were people out there who didn’t mind the awful stench she left behind? “Who?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss my guests, but needless to say, it wasn’t the kind of rabble I usually allow around these parts. Filthy little creatures, thinking they’re better than us. I was all set to kick them out, until they presented a wad of cash up front. I was going to show them the cheapest rooms at exuberant prices, until they singled out the Luxury Suite you occupied. They said that it reminded them of the comforts of home. At least, I think that’s what they said. My grammar’s a little rusty.”
“Well, that’s great! I can help give you more smelly rooms - ”
“What for? I have all the rooms I could ever need.”
The Girl was confused by this statement. “Wouldn’t you want to attract more of them?”
“It would look bad if I exclusively catered to one species over all else. And the other residents might complain if I showed favoritism. Besides, their kind isn’t known to be flush with cash. Better to keep the quality products from the dregs out there.”
“Don’t you want to offer something no one else has?”
“Please. My only competition is an Inn that has a single container that can barely house two of them at the same time. Let them fight it out, and have the high payers come here.”
“But you could make more money if - ”
“I would rather lose business than have to do continued future dealings with those filthy animals. Just because I CAN, doesn’t mean I HAVE to.”
“What do you have against them?”
“Please. Don’t pretend you don’t know what they REALLY are.”
She had no idea what he was alluding to. Rather, she was more curious about who the new occupiers of her old room were. Maybe they wouldn’t mind sharing their space with someone who made their living conditions bearable.
She tried to get through the door, but some unseen force kept her from crossing that boundary. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get past the front entrance. The Manager pointed to a sign on the wall and said, ‘The Management reserves the right to refuse service to anyone.’
“You’ve got all kinds of rules just working for you, don’t you?”, she said with some annoyance. Out of spite, she threw over a bunch of flyers, the mass of papers spreading out all over the lobby. Those got through with no problem. Although people were given severe restrictions, the ability to block unwanted advertising was something that still hadn’t been properly dealt with. If she’d worn a suit covered in sponsors, she might’ve been able to slip past unnoticed. “I’m sure there’s plenty of places that’d welcome my unique services!”
“Good luck convincing any Hotels or Inns to take you! They want even less to do with them than I do.”
The Girl could’ve gone to another place to test the Manager’s theory out, but there wasn’t time. She had to go to work. And she hadn’t gotten any sleep. She looked around for a comfortable spot in vain. She was hoping to find the base of a tree to rest by, but there weren’t any. Up until now, she hadn’t realized just how little plant life there was around the City. The confines of The Forest of _____ was uncomfortable, but at least she could find cover there.
Even from this distance, she could feel the repellant forces that the nature reserve had against her. Apparently, she still hadn’t been forgiven for her actions. She never thought she’d feel nostalgic for a place she once hated. Seeing a lack of options, she went to the only place she could find a safe spot and still make it to work on time.
She slept in front of the Factory doors.
...at least, that was the plan. She was surprised to see that she wasn’t alone in this thought. There was an impressive pileup of early risers who’d converged at the large imposing rusted doors, mumbling, tossing and turning among themselves, trying to gain a fraction of the sleep they so desperately needed.
She chose a spot on the hard floor, taking out a rudimentary mat and using her bag as a rough pillow, and allowed the teeming mass of additional visitors to cover her, creating a suffocating environment that gradually blocked out all sense of life.
Then, a few hours later, the Factory blared a loud noise on the horns, notifying all present that it was going to be opening time soon, and everybody should clear the way so the doors could be opened.
The Girl hadn’t gotten much sleep, due to the restless nature of the crowd shuffling and kicking her during their subconscious movements. Disappointingly enough, all their slighted motions had veered away from hurting her bulging stomach, which would’ve passed punishment onto them, and thereby relieving her of this ongoing torment.
Joining the throng of half-Deaf half-Blind half-Limbed labourers, the Girl dazedly stepped inside the Factory for another expected long day of work. She was beginning to wonder if she’d be paid at the end of the week or not. She should’ve clarified that from the start, but was put off by the Foreman’s surprise attempt at removing one of her senses.
Upon arriving at the station, her partner showed up with some words of encouragement that wasn’t very encouraging: “The first day of work is always the hardest. It’ll get easier from now on.”
The Girl found this hard to believe. She’d hardly gotten any sleep, and was expected to work just as hard the day before. The Stocky Woman must’ve noticed, since she went out of her way to help out more than usual, catching numerous fishes she missed or hadn’t gutted properly.
She didn’t know why this woman was going to so much trouble, especially after taking the brunt of punishment yesterday. It must’ve been related to that thing she said they’d talk about later.
‘Later’ turned out to be after work, when the Girl’s shift was done. Fortunately, the Stocky Woman didn’t have to work as hard as last time, and was able to join the Girl outside, where she made a generous offer.
“Let me splurge for lunch.”
It was only then that the Girl realized just how hungry she was. She’d been frantically racing all day, and without something to distract her, her body was betraying her as usual. With the Stocky Woman leading the way, the Girl was all too willing to oblige.
The two of them passed numerous restaurants and stores, the Girl salivating at what they might have to eat. Soon, the two of them ducked into an otherwise inconspicious alleyway where the Stocky Woman stopped in front of a large bin and lifted the lid. A torrential whiff of mixed sweet and sour smells waffled forth. The Stocky Woman looked over the edge, and after some rapid practiced movement, brought out a steaming portion of a meal that had been casually thrown away.
The Girl couldn’t believe this Garbage Woman was actually suggesting they eat the tossed remains, but the expression on her face showed she was serious. “It was when I saw you bring in that old can that I knew you were like me.”
Not wanting to shatter the illusion of comradance, she politely took a portion and turned around, unwilling to show the Garbage Woman her face as she swallowed the morsel of half-eaten food. She thought she’d hide it away and dump it later, but when you’re hungry enough, anything starts to taste good.
“In my younger years at school, I remember when I saw a perfectly good sandwich just lying near the top of a garbage container. It was half-eaten, and thrown out even though it still looked pretty good.”
Surprisingly enough, the Girl felt nostalgic for being in school. She could hardly recall what life was like back when things were ‘normal’. Even though it was barely three months ago, it might as well have been a lifetime ago . But as she heard more of the Garbage Woman’s story, she remembered why she didn’t like it in the first place.
“However, a teacher caught me in the act, and decided to publicly shame my actions in front of the whole class. She forced me to admit that what I did was wrong, and write an essay on the futility of my actions. But rather than turn me off, it only motivated me to keep splurging the bins for more wasted foods.”
The Girl could certainly relate. The more someone told her not to do something, the more she wanted to do it.
“Ever since then, I’ve never shied away from anything that seems salvageable. Another advantage is that it saved money buying foods I wouldn’t have dared try otherwise. Those free samples made it easier to know which tastes would be worth trying again. Not that those days weren’t filled with nourishment. There was a lot of trial and error involved.”
The Girl was flummoxed after hearing all this. What was with people regaling their life stories to complete strangers at the drop of a hat?
“It never ceases to amaze me what people throw away. It’s a good thing they don’t appreciate the value of these things. Otherwise, there’d be nothing left for me to forage. Just look at this!”
She pulled out a half eaten piece of wiring that barely had some fabric attached to it. “What is... was that??”
“I think it used to be an umbrella. It has the same pattern that used to be on my old couch when I was a kid. A few more of these, and I’ll have enough to complete the full set!” She pulled out another piece of string. “And this! This can be used to tune my piano!”
“You have a piano?”
“One. Well two.” She paused before resuming. “Five.” A bigger pregnant pause than last time. “Fourteen,” she finally admitted before relapsing into more silence. “Thirty-seven.”
The Girl decided to intervene before the tally reached triple digits. “What do you need so many pianos for??”
“In case one breaks down, I can salvage the other for spare parts.”
The Girl looked concerned. “Where do you keep all your stuff?”
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