The Line Book One: Carrier Page 8

  “You okay, Naya? You look like you’re gonna throw up again.”

  I took deep breaths. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? You want I should get a bucket?”

  “Yeah. No. I just... You know any doctors?”

  Shirel took her wet sleeve and patted her swollen left eye again, which was beginning to turn purple. “I know a clinic on 12th and B. I can take you there if you want.”

  “Thanks. I need to do that.”

  “Sure.” We stared at the floor a minute or two. Finally, she sighed and spoke again. “You going to West? ‘Cuz if you can cook, you could prolly get a job for a rich family in South.”

  I shrugged. I honestly had no idea what I was going to do next. My whole plan was shot. My credits were about to be taken away, I’d promised Evie I’d send for her, and I knew a replacement was out of the question. I had a little over six months to find a way out of that and no idea how I was going to accomplish any of it. It didn’t look good. “I suppose I could use the credits the Line gave me and buy transfer orders,” I thought aloud. “But after what just happened, I’m not sure they’ll approve it.” Time was wasting. Whatever I did, I had better do it quickly.

  “Worth a shot,” Shirel said. “What’s the worst they can do, say no?”

  She didn’t know the half of it. I had visions of security troops swooping in and carrying me off to a holding cell until I gave birth, but I left that unsaid.

  “I guess.”

  “Look, I meant what I said before,” she added. “There ain’t nothing here. I been stuck in Central for ten years. If I could afford to get out, you bet your skinny ass I would. All said and done, I think you should go to South.”

  “Is it hard to get travel orders?”

  “It is when you’re convicted of grand theft,” Shirel said, looking uncomfortable. She locked her ankles together and crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m as good as stuck here. If I’d known a couple of pieces of silver would bring me this much trouble, I woulda put up with my boss better.”

  “Where’d you work before?”

  “Rich family, South. I was a nanny, if you can believe it.”

  “Doesn’t sound so bad. Why’d you steal from them? What’d your boss do?”

  Shirel shook her head in what could have been disgust. “Kept my pay. Told me it was for ‘safety,’ which was a load of shit. But I had a room all to myself, and a job. Food. Wasn’t all bad. I thought if I sold a few things I could get out and go work someplace better, but I got caught. Was stupid. Shoulda known better. Spent a spell in prison and when I got out, I was stuck in Central. No travel orders in my future, no steady job neither. I’m on some sort of No Hire list. Can’t open no account with Auberge. Don’t know why they didn’t just kill me and dump me over the wall. Woulda been nicer. Only work I can get is day labor. So I’m here until I die. There’s a lot like me here, in Central. Oliv and Gretchen both got records too. That’s why you need to get out. There ain’t nothing here for you.”

  “If there was some way I could help...” I started.

  She waved me off. “Don’t worry ’bout me. I make do. You got enough to worry ‘bout.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that, but I felt responsible for having caused this latest bit of drama in Shirel’s and Evie’s lives. If I hadn’t come to the boarding house, chances were, Evie wouldn’t have had the idea to go to the Line. Better still, if I hadn’t told anyone to begin with where I was from, this whole ordeal wouldn’t have happened.

  I’d have to remember that in the future.

  Evie stirred in her bunk.

  “What we gonna do ’bout her?” Shirel asked.

  “Dunno.”

  “You got any family?”

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Me neither.”

  I thought of asking her about her kids but left it alone.

  “Too bad we don’t have a grandma or something. You know?” She chuckled.

  I rubbed the remnants of a bump on the back of my head. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

  * * *

  I knocked on the purple door.

  No answer.

  I knocked again.

  When there was no answer the second time, I heard Shirel shift behind me. Evie sighed.

  Hmm.

  There was no peephole on the door, only peeling paint and a bent knob.

  I knocked a third time.

  “Go away!” squawked a woman’s voice from inside.

  I stepped back and elbowed Evie. She nervously cleared her throat. I nudged her again, and she took a step closer.

  She stood there. The bare bulb that hung from the ceiling flickered and buzzed, showing glimpses of the filthy hallway.

  Still, I had no second thoughts.

  “Come on!” Shirel whispered harshly.

  Evie inhaled deeply and readied herself, but her voice barely came out as a whisper. “Ahem. Um. Hello?”

  No answer from inside.

  “Louder,” I said.

  “Hello?” Evie said, louder, but not a shout.

  Still no answer.

  I took a step forward and knocked again, hard, then elbowed Evie.

  “Hello?” she said, louder still.

  “Who is it?” the voice behind the door asked.

  I looked behind me to Shirel for some sign of reassurance. She stood at the top of the stair landing and smiled. It occurred to me this was the first time I’d seen her do that. She was missing a tooth.

  I elbowed Evie again.

  “Um, it’s Evie,” she said.

  “Evie who?” the voice inquired.

  “Just Evie.”

  “What do you want?”

  She glanced back at me nervously. I nodded. We’d already gone over what she needed to say. “I need a grandmother.”

  We waited a few moments for the response. “Who are you?”

  Evie’s face contorted, and I could see she was struggling to control herself. “Just Evie.”

  Shirel leaned forward and whispered loudly. “Tell her how old you are.”

  “I’m ele—”

  “The truth!” Shirel snapped.

  “I’m ten!”

  I signaled to stop speaking. We waited.

  When we heard the clicks of the dead bolts unlocking, I stepped back and stood next to Shirel, away from the door but still visible.

  Evie swayed with nervous energy. Her fists were balled at her side. Her shoulders were up around her ears.

  The door opened, and an old woman holding a frying pan poked out her head. She glanced around, taking stock of Evie, Shirel and me. She squinted at me a second, then recognition filtered across her face. “You.”

  I nodded but said nothing, waiting. This was a long shot at best, and I didn’t want to mess it up by saying too much. Besides, aside from the fact the little old lady had once had a granddaughter and had helped me escape the gang rape, I had no idea what kind of person she was. She could take one look at Evie and send her packing. But it was worth a shot.

  Having been coached by me, Evie knew not to move away, not to step back, but to stand at the old lady’s front door and look every bit her ten years of age, and she was doing a fairly decent job of listening to my advice.

  When the old woman’s eyes went back to the girl, it bothered me to see her expression did not soften. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

  “I’m Evie.”

  The old woman sized her up. Evie’s sack dress and beat-up shoes were a bit big on her and made her look smaller than she was. I hoped that would work in our favor.

  “You’re skinny,” said the old woman, who I had to admit was a bit plump herself.

  Evie nodded.

  “You read?
”

  Evie shook her head.

  “You clean?”

  Evie nodded.

  “You got any family?”

  I had not prepared her for this question, so her eyes shot wide in panic and she looked to me. I tried to reassure her with my eyes, but knew I couldn’t say a word. It had to be about her. Otherwise, it was too easy for the old woman to say no.

  “That your sister?” asked the old woman.

  “No,” Evie said.

  “Got any family?” she asked again.

  Evie squared her shoulders. “My mom left.”

  “Left?”

  “She went to find work. Said she’d come back. But...” The rest of her words faded.

  The old woman frowned. “Need someplace to stay?”

  Evie nodded.

  “How will your mom know where you are?”

  Shirel cleared her throat. “I’ll tell her if...I mean, when she comes back.”

  The old woman’s eyes darkened. She knew now. Without us having to say it, I could tell she understood. None of us thought she was coming back, not even Evie for that matter, but to say so out loud would have crushed the girl. I was pleased to see that the old woman understood this. I could tell from the look on her face she wasn’t happy about it, though.

  She stuck the frying pan under her arm. “Why’d you come here?”

  Evie turned her head to its side and blurted out, “Naya said you were nice and that you’d helped her.”

  The old woman seemed confused for a second until she realized who Evie had meant. She glanced back at me and raised her eyebrows. “How’s your head?”

  I grinned. “Better.”

  Maybe the old lady would come through after all. She eyed Evie once more with consideration. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn she stood up taller. “You have to learn to read. Can’t stay here unless you learn how.”

  Evie nodded, her eyes brightening. “Okay.”

  “Can’t have no ignorant kid taking up my space. Got it?”

  “Okay!”

  “Don’t suppose you can count?”

  “Up to twenty,” Evie said proudly.

  The old woman grunted, then stepped back from the door and allowed Evie to enter. The grandmother nodded at Shirel and me with a mixed expression.

  Shirel had crossed her arms across her chest. “I’ll come and check on her every now and then.”

  The old woman shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned and spoke into the apartment. “Come say goodbye to your friends.”

  Evie popped her head out from the apartment and waved. “See you later!” And she disappeared inside the door, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, look!” exclaimed Evie’s voice from inside, “toys!”

  The old woman gazed at me and Shirel one last time and closed the door, locking the bolts behind her.

  It was suddenly quiet. The bulb flickered and buzzed.

  I felt so strange.

  I wanted to cry. But I wanted to laugh at the same time.

  I did neither.

  I was so happy for Evie but so sad I was never going to see her again.

  Girls had come and gone off the Line so many times, the only friend I’d ever had for more than a few months had been Peni. Yet here I was, aching over a kid I’d known a week.

  Shirel coughed nervously, sniffed and wiped her nose on her only sleeve. “Come on.”

  I followed her down the stairs and out the door.

  Shirel knew me well enough now to step aside as the smell hit me and my meal erupted from my belly and splattered onto the pavement.

  I wasted more credits that way.

  * * *

  The medical clinic was ten blocks to the north. Shirel took me. She wanted to walk, but the thought of the three men who roamed around the old woman’s apartment building sent my hand into the air. I flagged a taxi and hoped my credits hadn’t been canceled yet. Luckily, they weren’t.

  The clinic was inside a grey stone building. Just inside there was a waiting area full of folding chairs. It smelled of ammonia and wet dog. Two people sat on the chairs, and another woman was behind a table on the back wall by a green swinging door.

  Shirel walked me just inside but refused to go in farther. “I hate doctors.” She walked off in the other direction. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Want some credits for a ride back to the boarding house?” I shouted after her, but she waved me off and disappeared around the corner.

  Somehow, I wasn’t worried about her.

  Inside the clinic, I approached the lady at the folding table. She grinned at me. The table was piled high with old plastic tablets that had long ago been outlawed and inkless stylus pens.

  “Just one moment,” she said to me. She shuffled around the tablets, picked one up and read a name aloud.

  From the folding chairs, a man limped over, took the tablet and went through the green door into the back. The lady turned back to me.

  “Can I see the doctor?” I asked.

  “You blind?” She had frizzy red hair that was tucked behind both her ears and a crooked pair of glasses perched on her red ball nose. Her face was expressionless.

  “What? Oh. No.”

  “Then you’ll see the doctor!” The lady burst out laughing.

  The woman patient chuckled.

  “Get it?” the red-haired lady said. “See the doctor?”

  I forced a smile and made the closest thing to a laugh as I could.

  She looked at me in disappointment and shook her head but handed me a tablet and a stylus. I heard her mumbling something about today’s youth not having a sense of humor as I went across the room and sat in an empty chair in the corner.

  The questionnaire wanted my name, my address and my prints, but seeing as how I didn’t know my last name and my address was a boarding house, it didn’t take long for me to finish. Where it asked why I was there to see the doctor, I wrote “pregnant?”

  When I handed the tablet back, the lady glanced it over and told me with a smile to sit.

  I went back to my seat in the corner.

  Across the aisle from me was a woman in her thirties. She was obviously far into a pregnancy. Her belly was so large and round she looked as if she’d split open any moment, like an overripe melon. Her swollen feet were perched onto a chair she’d placed in front of her.

  I watched her read from a palm tablet and tried to envision myself large, round, swollen and full of babies.

  She must have felt my gaze and glanced up.

  I forced another smile. “How far along are you?” Since Shirel had asked me that, I guessed it was a common question.

  “Too far,” she said.

  “Oh.” What was that supposed to mean? I cleared my throat. “What’s the worst part about being pregnant?”

  The pregnant woman smirked at me again. “Shoes with laces.” Then she laughed.

  Was she making a joke?

  I didn’t get the chance to find out. The red-haired lady stood from her table and with a tablet in her hand, she motioned the pregnant woman through the door.

  “Come on, Dolore,” the new mother moaned as she plopped her feet to the floor and pushed herself up, using the arms of the chair for balance. “Last chance.”

  Dolore stared at the pregnant woman’s belly as she shuffled to the door. “I say it’s a boy.”

  “Five credits say it’s a girl,” the pregnant woman said.

  “Five credits? Hardly worth the effort.” Dolore grinned from ear to ear and handed the woman her tablet as she disappeared through the doorway.

  Dolore’s eyes met mine and her smile faded slightly. She went back to the table and shuffled more tablets around.

  I put my head a
gainst the wall and resigned myself to waiting.

  * * *

  “Naya?”

  My head shot upright and I nearly slipped off my chair. I’d fallen asleep in the waiting room at the clinic.

  Dolore stood over me, a tablet in her hand. “The doctor will see you now. He’s not blind either. Ha-ha!”

  I faked a laugh and took my tablet. The clinic was empty besides me.

  The red-haired lady showed me through the green door. Inside, there was a long hallway with doors leading into examination rooms.

  I saw a flash of white.

  Suddenly, I was in the hall of the infirmary at the Line.

  The long green hallway, the double silver doors, the nurse, the hose, the blast of cold water.

  I felt my plastic mattress in my sleeping compartment. I saw the bed and dingy grey sheets in my appointment room. The silver door where the appointments entered. The blood on the walls after Lover Boy...

  My skin went frigid with cold sweat. I dropped the tablet to the floor and rocked on my feet. Someone grabbed my arm.

  “Hey, you okay?” It was a man’s voice.

  I shook the arm off. “Let me go.”

  His hand released me, and I gripped the wall for balance.

  “What’s the matter? You feeling faint?” the man’s voice asked.

  I couldn’t look to him. My eyes were glued on the long hallway of the infirmary.

  I blinked twice, and it was gone.

  I was actually in a grey hallway. Framed digital posters of puppies and kittens hung on the walls. Brown doors in the hall had large red numbers painted on them.

  I felt lightheaded.

  The red-haired woman came up behind me. “What’s going on, Doc?”

  “I’m okay,” I lied.

  “Can you make it to exam three?” he asked.

  I nodded, though the walls seemed to move as I inched forward.

  Dolore helped me stagger to a room a few doors down. Inside, there was a shiny metal examination table too small for a person to lie on. The room was painted a soothing grey-blue. More kitty and dog posters hung on the walls.

  I slumped onto a bench in the corner. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

  “It’s okay,” Dolore said, pouring some water from a pitcher by a deep sink and handing me a glass. “No big deal.”