Champagne Confines (Vampin XX)

by Jamie Ott

  Chapter 2

  That evening, after everyone was locked in their rooms, Starr got out of bed and slipped back into her clothes. Night was the best time to feed because they only had one staff member. Starr read her mind and knew she was bribable.

  Nia was a struggling mother of four. No husband and no family to help. She wasn’t a bad person, either. All she had to do was freeze the camera for a few seconds twice per night. It would look like a glitch in the system, and as long as nothing went wrong, no one would notice.

  Nia knocked, lightly, on her door.

  Starr opened up and slipped her one thousand euros. Then she tip toed down the hall and out to the tennis courts. From there, she flew off into the sky and out to the forests where she tracked a boar.

  That area was dense with pigs, almost to the point of nuisance. At night, they were known for destroying properties. The city was in a bind because some wanted them poisoned while others were worried about ecological ramifications.

  Immediately, she sensed them and selected a particularly aggressive male. Levitating, she chased him through the trees, and it grunted loudly, letting its mates know there was danger nearby. Starr leapt onto its back and broke its neck.

  A few minutes later, the pig was dry. What a waste it would be to simply leave the carcass there.

  She looked at her cell phone and saw that it was only 11 pm. Then she gathered some wood and kindling and made herself a bonfire.

  Gently, she slit the boar down the center of its gut, and then pulled out the stomach, liver and the intestines. She ate through them, raw, as if they were apples. Then she discarded the rest of its innards and hung the pig on a handmade spit over the fire.

  The scent of roasting pig surrounded her within a few minutes. And an hour later, she began munching down crisped skin, followed by an undercooked leg.

  As she ate, she lay back on the ground and watched the stars in the sky while imagining all the things that could be possible in her life. She imagined herself in a tiny apartment in Tokyo; then a large flat in Zurich. In the mornings, she’d leisurely rise and sip rich, dark coffee and watch the news; exercise and then take a shower. Noon, she’d go to lunch in some cozy café, but then what? Can every day be spent in leisure? She supposed it was possible, but she’d never lived life like that before. For the last fifteen years, it seemed like all she ever did was go, and she got on more and faster the older she got.

  Starr faced a learning experience: How to slow down. She would be on a search to fill her life with a new purpose. Sitting up and looking into the flames, she thought to herself that it was going to be hard at first.

  Every few minutes, the fire cracked and sizzled.

  At 1 am, she laughed at herself. What in the world was she going to do with all that meat?

  “Ah ha,” she said and smiled.

  She gathered the bits, still on its spit, and flew back to the prison.

  Careful to avoid cameras, she snuck in through the kitchen door. There she found everything she needed to cut it up and package it, which she, then, gave to Nia.

  “What is this?” she whispered. The emotions on her face looked torn between fascination and worry that Starr had visitors.

  “It’s a gift! Don’t worry about how I got it! No one saw anything. As I promised, if you get into trouble, I’ll take care of you. Good night!”

  She closed the door and climbed into bed. The sun was just rising, but she had enough time to catch at least one hour of sleep.

  When she went out to breakfast later, it was to find Jana looking morose. Starr tried to read her mind, wondering what was wrong. All she got was images of an older lady with a tense look on her face. The older lady looked on a young man who stood before her and spoke.

  As before, she dug into her ice cream.

  “You smell smoky,” Jana said, “like you’ve been near a fire or something.”

  “I don’t smell anything,” Starr lied.

  That day was much the same as before, except they spent the afternoon playing pool and exercising in the gym.

  “Hey, Starr!” said a woman name Ginny. She was the prison’s contraband expert. Although the staff knew about her activities, they pretended not to in exchange for freebies. “You want to buy some facial masks?”

  Starr laughed.

  “Heck, yeah, I do!” Jana butted in. “What do you got?”

  “Come to my room after lunch.”

  Then she walked to a couple more tables and invited a few others to her room.

  And come to her room, they did.

  There were already half a dozen people by the time they got there. Those who were her top clients got the first pick and paid her the most in credits. Credits were a monetary system the prison used to reward or punish the inmates; they were in turn used to buy things from the prison, like special soap or razors; snacks or drinks. Credits could be bought with cash, too. Starr, Jana, and Morenia had lots of credits; hence Ginny was always trying to sell them things.

  On Ginny’s bed were hundreds of individually wrapped mask sheets. They were all different kinds, like red ginseng, aloe vera, vitamin C, mushroom extract and etc.

  “Holy cow!” said Morenia, who immediately took to sifting through the many packets.

  Jana was more interested in the few dozen Lancome lipsticks and mascaras she had lying on her bed.

  “Where are you gonna wear makeup? What a waste!” said fellow inmate, Mary.

  “Just because we’re in jail, it doesn’t mean we don’t want to live like we’re in the world,” Molly, another inmate, replied.

  “Starr, you gonna buy anything?” asked Ginny.

  Just for the fun of it, she grabbed a few masks. Sure, she didn’t have to worry about treating her skin, but she found the cooling sensation and aromas relaxing.

  Sometime later, they sat in the common area watching movies. Many of the women had white sheets on their faces, were doing their nails and playing with makeup.

  “Looks like Ginny did well, today,” said Morenia.

  Starr turned and saw a long line of ladies waiting at the office window in order to settle accounts with Ginny. A few of the staff members had been more than mollified over her activities. They got free gift bags and last picks for free.

  That night, lying in bed, Starr checked up on Shane and Marla. Shane could hold her own but it was Marla’s first mission. Starr tried to convince Marla that it would be too dangerous, but she seemed to be looking for adventure lately. She’d become “bored” with work and had never been on a mission before.

  Starr closed her eyes and imagined she was talking to Shane and Marla; that she could see them in a hotel room somewhere. And like an astral projection, all of the sudden she felt like she was there.

  A vision came to mind. Marla stood in front of a bathroom mirror, applying makeup.

  “Starr, are you here?” she asked aloud.

  “Yep, just checking on you.”

  “All is well. We’re about to meet with Anchali.”

  “Glad to hear it. I have a few warnings: Be careful of Anchali and her associates. They can be tricky and manipulative. And since they don’t show their emotions, they can be misleading, often saying one thing while feeling or meaning another. They’re also very mentally disciplined, so don’t rely on everything you read from their minds. Many have been fooled before.”

  “Thanks for the advice. We’ll call if we need you.”

  A few weeks passed in the same old fashion. Life was a social gala, though only in their small prison world. In early March, the upper levels – residents who were allowed the most privileges - were allowed out on the town. When asked about the activity they’d like to have on Friday night, they invariably agreed on going out to dinner.

  They were escorted to a fine restaurant in a van. It was quite an interesting sight, especially as all the ladies wore their best, only to arrive in what looked like a black maria.

  “Did you see the look on the valet’s face,” Jana
said and laughed.

  “Yeah, we’re a bunch of classy ladies, now!” said Morenia.

  Despite funny looks, they were seated at decent tables. Some minutes later, a round of drinks were sent by a party of men in suits. The ladies laughed as they raised their glasses to them in thanks.

  “If only they knew,” said Ginny.

  Together, they ordered many Romanian dishes, but Starr was always partial to the simpler foods, like Galusta cu Prune and sarmale; or rather, plum dumplings and stuffed, spiced cabbage rolls. She supposed it had something to do with growing up on a simpler diet and basic American foods.

  When it became time to order dessert, the men who’d sent drinks then sent chocolate clatite – crepes. The ladies giggled as the wait staff pushed chairs in between them, so the men could squeeze in. They were financial associates on a dinner break. Starr sensed they were all married, but just like the stereotypes, they were big flirts.

  After dinner, the bankers escorted them to their van. When they returned to prison, she saw Nia was working that night. Starr was glad because she needed to feed.

  Things would have been easier if there were rats in the jail, which there were, but the warden made pest control a priority. The result of her diligence was Starr having to lure mice from outside which took too much time and looked suspicious. Starr couldn’t take small drinks from people, as just the mixing of saliva could turn someone.

  The only other alternative was to feed on herself, but there was no way she was going to do that. She might as well drink her own urine.

  So that night Nia came to her room and let her out again.

  As before, she slipped her one thousand euro, and then went hunting. This time she was determined to find a smaller animal. Twenty minutes later, she found a fox digging in a farmers patch. She drained it, pulled off its fur and tossed it away. Then as before, she ate its innards and hung the carcass on a spit and roasted it. It wasn’t bad tasting, either.

  She tiptoed back to her room.

  The following Monday morning, Jana and Morenia went to work at the youth center. There, the government subsidized child care. Since they were there for a year, they signed up to help the community so as to kill time. But since Starr was only to be three months, she didn’t get to work. So she spent her days reading books on her tablet.

  After lunch, she retired to her room where she lay on the bed and tried to focus on Marla. She hadn’t heard from her or Shane in several weeks.

  She whispered, Marla, can you hear me?

  Marla didn’t reply.

  Focusing harder, she imagined being by her side, wherever she was, but all she saw was darkness.

  Next, Starr visualized seeing the entire neighborhood Marla stayed in, floating above the block and looking down on the citizens. Then the city streets came into view; people crowded up the neighborhood on foot, bikes and in cars.

  Starr commanded her consciousness outward so she could view the city entirely. Large masses of land and mud came into view; then cows and other animals.

  Marlaaaa... She called over the city. Again, there was no response.

  Starr opened her eyes and sat up. “Hmm…” she said to herself. Perhaps they were busy.

  Then there was a knock at her door.

  “Were you sleeping?” asked Mikaela, one of the prison guards.

  “Yeah, my book made me sleepy.”

  “Dinner will be ready in a bit.”

  Mikaela closed the door.

  A few minutes later, Starr went out to the commons area which was full of people who’d returned from work or from hobbyist areas.

  Jana and Morenia returned from the youth center just as Starr sat down with a plate of food.

  Over lamb stew and Orsa - Romanian beer – she listened to Ginny yammer on about her family’s business. Turned out she was the heiress to a canned meat company.

  Jana had a sour look on her face for most of the meal.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Starr.

  “Nothing, I just got bad news from home.”

  Starr wanted to press her but could tell she didn’t want to talk about it.

  That night they watched the latest episode of Supernatural. It wasn’t as eloquent when translated into Romanian.

  Starr tried to probe Jana’s mind, but again, all she got was an image of an older lady and a younger man in a suit. In a cozy room with wood walls they stood beside a desk. A fire lit up their faces from the other side of the room.

  Morenia distracted her when she asked, “What kind of work did you do?”

  “I headed a family research organization.”

  “So you looked for lost relatives?”

  “Uh, yes, but usually our work is more for historical sakes. Families histories for a variety of reasons, like to map out genealogy for famous people; but also to locate and reclaim family heirlooms. Sometimes we catch thieves and other times, we have reunited families; although that’s not our primary goal.”

  “That’s funny, considering why you’re here. Essentially, you’re into historical preservation, and somehow, you managed to destroy a castle.”

  Starr looked at her, wondering how she found out.

  “Well, you were on the news. I didn’t want to say anything and embarrass you. Were you fired when you got sent here?”

  “No, I had already quit.”

  “Why?”

  “I was tired and ready to move on. Now, I wish that I hadn’t quit because I don’t know how I’m gonna pay for the castle. My credit’s good but banks aren’t interested in financing such a large project.”

  “Did you try to find investors? Or break the financing into parts?”

  “I’m not interested in sharing that property. I’ve decided to sell some other assets in order to pay for it.”

  “My family works in retail. We own the largest chain of jewelry stores in Romania. If you’re looking for a job, we could use you for a new security position.”

  Starr laughed and asked, “Do I look like a security guard? Besides, the salary would never be enough!”

  “No, not that kind of security job: A more advanced position that would require research, kind of like what you did. You’d figure out things, like when we lose money, product, or who’s stealing. You’d investigate not just within our stores but all the way down to our production sites, shipping and warehouses.”

  “Sounds interesting. I’ll think about it.”

  “Well, just come and visit for a holiday. I know my family would like you. You even look like one of us.”

  Morenia saying this made her think of the people she thought were her parents.

  Ten years ago, as Starr pondered her life, she realized she was adopted. Starr never asked her parents about it, as she hadn’t seen them since Lake George. Having been treated as though she were adopted, she’d long since lost any desire to interact with them. Naturally, they never came looking for her, except once when looking for Starr’s dead sister.

  Now that Morenia said it, Starr did look a bit southern-eastern European. Unlike her adoptive parents and sister, who were stocky and fair, Starr was tall, dark and fair with doll-like features. Morenia was similar in appearance.

  Over the years, she wondered who her real parents were but never had the courage to find out. The thought of meeting them scared her, for she already had a hard time letting go of the memories of Credenza. What if she discovered her parents, in this lifetime, were less than what they were before? Karma had a funny way, said the Yogis and Buddhists. What if, because of all the evil they’d done, they’d become scum, poor or pathetic? Or even worse, average ordinary people?

  Although it occurred to her that she and Credenza will have different mothers. After all, hers was a Primordial who had gone into unconsciousness – a Primordial’s way of dying. Starr’s mother would have to be human, or at least from another line of her own family. But then, as she thought this, she got the sense that someone familiar was near.

  Quickly, she scann
ed the prison and grounds, but it appeared empty.

  That night, Nia came and gave her a small cake in a glass container.

  “It’s just my way of saying thank you. You’ve helped me in ways you don’t know. But where do you go at night?”

  “I wish I could say, but I don’t think you should know. It would cause all kinds of trouble, and I’m sure you don’t want that.”

  After Nia’s gift, Starr was worried. She was becoming too curious when she should have wished to remain unaware. But there was no other way for her to get what she needed.

  I might have to call the Council for help, she thought.

  The next morning, she passed Jana’s room. She lay on the bed crying.

  Starr tried to examine her mind. This time she saw a coffin in the same room she saw the older woman and young man.

  She knocked on the door.

  Jana sat up.

  Starr walked in and closed the door.

  “I’d like to be alone right now, Starr.”

  She ignored her and sat on the chair at the desk, opposite her bed.

  “In my business, you learn to read people. I think you’re in trouble.”

  “I know you mean well, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’ve got a lot of connections. Maybe I can help you? Who was it that died?”

  “How do you know someone died?”

  “You’re crying and praying over a bible; there’s a picture sticking out of the pages. I guess I profiled you.”

  Jana put the bible in her lap and pulled the picture out.

  “She was my Grandmother. She…”

  But then Starr got a ringing in her ears.

  Not now! She whispered to Marla.

  We need your help, she said.

  Starr pushed Marla’s consciousness out of her mind.

  “Go on, sorry.”

  “She was all I had. My mother died at a young age, so it was just her and my father.”

  “You have a brother, though, right?”

  Jana sighed and said, “Yeah, and he’s no good. I blame him for my grandmother’s death. You see, he…”

  Starr tried to focus, but the buzzing in her brain returned, along with an image. It was a long, dark hall. Echoes of women crying bounced off the walls.

  “Starr, are you okay?”

  “Yes, sorry, headache,” she said and rubbed her ear. “So what do you want? Your brother out of your life? Or just to get this gangster off your back? I ask because it sounds like, no matter what, your brother will always be in trouble. I’ve seen this sort of thing before. You help them, and then when all is fine, they’re right back in trouble again; it’s almost like they can’t live without being in a bind. What I’m saying is, no matter the consequences, maybe you should let him have it.”

  “Yes, I know what you’re saying. I agree with you, but he is my brother. My father will help him, no matter what Grandmother and I have said.”

  “How much money does your brother owe?”

  “A lot, I don’t want to say.”

  “Okay, let me call some friends. I think they might be able to help you. What’s the guys name?”

  “Michael Schula.”

  “Okay, let me see what I can do.”

  Then she stumbled out of the room, her head feeling like it was going to explode.

  “What is it?” Starr asked, once back in her room.

  She didn’t reply.

  “Marla, are you there?”

  After a few minutes, a knock came at the door. Mikaela opened the door and said, “Dinner time.”

  Network