by M. O. McLeod
17.
Snowhill
Kurma’s OCD was in high gear. Garbage and litter covered the ground as Rimselda led her over the train tracks crossing the old station lot. Month-old newspapers flew in the air, gusted up by the wind; weeds grew in the cracks in the pavement. The parking lot lights had been smashed, and glass was scattered here and there, making walking more difficult.
“At night, what is this place like?” Kurma asked Rimselda.
“It’s a war zone. You have to be smart and cunning, and above all lucky. The more people you have, the better your chances are of surviving. In the daytime all is quiet. People are asleep. But in the nighttime…that’s when the Jeers come out.”
Kurma had never heard of Jeers. “I’m guessing they’re an after-dark posse that preys on the weak, steals, beats up people, and extorts the good folk of the train station.”
“Don’t be sarcastic. They’re not a joke. The Jeers are the biggest gang at this station. They’re a bunch of punks with weapons. They take your food, make you do things for them, and whatever they want they can get because they have the numbers. If you’re a girl, you try to avoid them. I wouldn’t be caught dead out at night around here,” Rimselda told Kurma. Hopefully she would be smart enough to listen. If Kurma wanted to live this kind of life then she would have to get with the program.
The girls entered the station. Kurma saw an old sign, half torn down and covered with colorful graffiti. The sign read, “Snowhill Station: our tracks lead to your own path.”
“So where does this gang live?” asked Kurma.
Rimselda answered, “They stay right underneath our floor, actually. They have the second level all to themselves. The leader’s younger sister is one of my friends. He lets us stay up there. It’s a smaller room for sure, but it’s better than everywhere else.”
“The sister, does she run things around here?”
“No. Whatever her older brother says goes. Our group is made up entirely of girls. His sister, her name is April, is like the jokester out of all of us. He looks out for us a bit, but nothing major.” Rimselda led Kurma down some stairs and under an overhead pass while she explained everything.
“This here is the quad. On Sundays it’s full of people buying and trading stuff. It’s the main entrance into the station. Once you pass the quad, you come up on the main entrance gates. After ten o’clock, the gates are locked so there isn’t overcrowding in the station. I wish you had a pen and some paper so you could take notes.” She looked back at Kurma, who was taking everything in.
“Don’t worry. I have everything stored up here.” She tapped her forehead. She didn’t want to freak out, but this place was not her cup of tea. It smelled dirty; it looked dirty, especially in the daytime; and her senses were magnifying everything. She wanted to put on some gloves and give this place a good cleaning. She could only imagine the insects that lived here with these bottom feeders.
“If you know someone who lives here already and it’s after hours, you’ll need to meet them in the back so they can let you in. But I wouldn’t suggest that, because that’s where the Jeers do most of their work—in the back, in the dark, all night every night. Remember that,” Rimselda continued. “I know you might think you’re a badass with those daggers, but you haven’t met the Jeers. They have daggers, knives, guns, pipes, chains, and rusty razorblades. In the dark everyone looks the same to them, so don’t think just because you’re with our crew they’ll avoid you.”
“Copy Roger,” Kurma teased. She felt like she was headed to a boot camp for teens. How fun.
The girls came to a stop abruptly. Inside the train station was dark. Kurma heard murmurs and voices and water dripping, and rats scurrying underground. She smelled piss and feces. She almost gagged from the stench.
“This is Snowhill.” Rimselda gestured with her arms in a grand motion. “Behind the toll gates are the rest of the population, living in and on the tracks. The bathrooms are regulated down here, and the toll booths have guards on duty 24/7. You have to pay each and every time you leave out of the gates. You cannot leave through the tunnels because they’re occupied by families and housing. There are guards at the end of each tunnel to block the way in and the way out. The back entrance does not have toll booths, but it’s too risky because all the younger boys are back there too, and they’re almost as bad as the Jeers.”
Kurma tried to cover her nose and take in everything Rimselda was saying. She looked behind her and saw the sun shining outside. Inside, the sun never touched the main gates. Here it was cold and gloomy; she could only imagine living in the dark tunnels with the rest of the people. The stone museum in the park was twenty times better than this place.
Rimselda waved at the toll booth guard, who wore plain clothes but had a huge gun rested on his shoulder. He had no badge, no uniform, and no hat to identify his role; the gun said it all: “Don’t mess with me.”
“Is he trained to use that thing?” asked Kurma.
“No.” Rimselda sneered. “Anyway, up here is where things get better.”
She directed Kurma up some stairs to the right. “Do not enter” was painted on the stairway wall in bold red. The girls’ footsteps echoed as they climbed to the first level.
“Here are the Jeers’ security quarters. There’s a back way up to this level and they come that way sometimes, so be careful. There’s only one shower on this floor and two toilets. For some reason the guys like to come on our level and use ours. Do not let them. They’re hound dogs and not to be trusted even if they want you to believe they’re the good guys.”
Kurma looked down the corridor and nodded her head in agreement. The hallway had big windows on one side and several doors on the other. Everything seemed peaceful up here. The wind had cleared out the stench from downstairs.
“Follow me,” said Rimselda heading up to the next level. “The Jeers take up the entire building’s span on this level. There are several rooms here, full bathrooms stalls, a kitchen, a sitting area, and the works. No one but the Jeers is allowed on this floor. Even their security has to have permission.”
Rimselda looked at Kurma to see if she understood this rule. “This is not a game. If a Jeer comes on our level and bothers us, we’re supposed to let them in, but nothing good can come from a Jeer. So we don’t answer and act as if no one is in the room, and they leave us alone for a while.”
The stairs became narrower as the girls reached the third level.
“It’s not as grand and as big as the Jeers’, but it’s definitely a place we can call our own,” said Rimselda. “Just for us girls.” She giggled once more.
Kurma was afraid to see what was behind the metal door. Kurma tried to control her compulsiveness for order. She imagined clothes and shoes and junk covering the floor. She felt her skin crawling at the thought.
Rimselda rapped twice on the door, skipped a beat, and gave a third knock. Minutes later she heard the familiar bar being pulled back from the door. She had never been happier to see her friends. It had been a crazy morning, and she just wanted to be around some familiar faces. Jackie, who had let her in, stood by the door. Chelsea and Nina, the two younger girls, sat on bean bags in the corner, playing cards. April, who was lying on her stomach on the one bed in the room, looked up in confusion at the new girl. And last there was O’bellaDonna, who was the oldest girl in the group and the most mischievous girl Rimselda knew. She could talk her way out of anything and everything under the sun. She had been sent to boarding school when she was young and was expelled because she had slept with the headmaster. Her parents had disowned her, and in return she had stolen their life savings. She was on the run from the police and liked to hide out in the train station with the girls from time to time.
Jackie slammed the door shut hard and loud. “Who’s this vagabond you’ve dragged in from the cold?” She had always been one for theatrics.
; “Her name is Kurma,” Rimselda replied.
“Kurma?” asked Jackie. “What kind of name is that? What are you, some kind of plant?”
Kurma plastered a fake smile onto her face. She would let Rimselda do the talking for now. She didn’t want to ruffle any feathers…just yet. She silently watched the thick girl in the back of the room from the corner of her eye. She looked like a cat with a mouse in its mouth—up to no good.
“Kurma is short for Karmenia. But no one ever gets that name right, so it’s Kurma for short.”
“Well, shouldn’t it be Karma, since it’s spelled with an A?” asked a girl seated on a black bag that resembled a couch.
“It’s just Kurma.” She didn’t want to get snippy, but what her name was shouldn’t have been an issue. She could be called LavenderRose for all she cared. She just wanted to see who had the most potential to become a Raptor. She crossed out the dingbat on the couch.
“She’s cool, guys, trust me.” Rimselda tried to cover up Kurma’s curt response with a cheerful tone.
“Where have you been all morning? Millie came by looking for you,” O’bellaDonna said as she swung her big legs off the ledge of the windowsill. “We were getting worried, Rimy.”
She sashayed toward the front of the room, taking in Kurma’s clothes and hair. “You clearly aren’t homeless,” she said to everybody in the room. “Your clothes smell clean.” O’bellaDonna sniffed Kurma. “Your hair doesn’t look greasy, your nails aren’t grungy looking, and you aren’t sickly thin.”
“She’s an intruder!” screamed Nina.
“Wait guys. Don’t act like this. I said she’s cool,” said Rimselda.
“Whatever you say doesn’t mean whatever goes,” Jackie said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She stood blocking Kurma’s way.
Kurma had the feeling that the big-hipped girl was the pack’s leader. She wasn’t as tall as Kurma and not as pretty as Rimselda; but she did have an independent feel to her, as if she did what she wanted, the rebel type.
Rimselda stood in between Jackie and Kurma. Jackie was all talk, and Kurma was the one who had actual weapons; Rimselda hoped it wouldn’t come to blows. She wanted the girls to accept Kurma. If they did then they would accept Rimselda as well even though she wasn’t the old Rimselda they knew and loved.
“You didn’t answer my question. Where have you been all morning?” asked O’bellaDonna.
Rimselda rolled her eyes. This was not how she wanted things to go. If she started explaining her story then they would surely jump to conclusions.
“I was down by the café. I ran into Kurma and totally forgot about meeting Millie. That early in the morning, the mind isn’t all the way there. When I see Millie, I will simply tell her the same thing. By the way, Donna, I’m surprised you’re delivering her messages. When did you two become butt buddies?”
Nina and Chelsea smirked in unison at O’bellaDonna.
“Shut up you two!” she screamed, then shrugged her shoulders. “I was just trying to be the bigger person, you know. My main concern was seeing where you were.”
O’bellaDonna and Millie hated each other. Millie had stayed with the girls for a year. Back then the two girls were going after the same guy at the same time. O’bellaDonna had her bag of tricks and knew ways to make the boy crush happy. Millie, on the other hand, was a professional streetwalker. She bagged the crush and bragged about it every chance she got. After that O’bellaDonna schemed and plotted to set Millie up. Things had never been the same since.
O’bellaDonna wasn’t the leader of the group; she was simply the oldest and had the most clout and seniority. She used those facts every chance she got. However, the girls always voted whenever they made decisions or argued about something important. April, Jackie, Nina, and Chelsea stuck together like glue because they were the youngest, so that always left O’bellaDonna by herself.
O’bellaDonna saw Kurma as a way to even the odds. She hated coming in last in anything. She had to be first, the winner, the clear victor. Living with the girls made her feel like an outsider because they always ended up in little duo cliques. She would give the new girl a chance to prove herself; if she didn’t, one of the other two groups would surely pick her up, and the beam would be even more off balance.
O’bellaDonna stepped in between Rimselda and Kurma. The space was tight; she could almost touch her nose to the new girl’s nose. She smiled her biggest, most charming smile in the girl’s face. “You can call me Donna. Everyone else does. Don’t touch my stuff, don’t eat my food, and don’t call me Bella. Got it?”
Kurma stepped aside and brushed her hair back. She wasn’t fazed at all. “Perfectly clear, Donna.” She would play nice for a few more minutes. “Can I take a seat, rest my legs for a bit?”
“Sure, you can sit over here near us,” Chelsea said from the back of the room.
“Chelsea!” Nina screeched. She knew never to be nice to new girls until they earned their way into the group. Chelsea was clearly clueless. “This seat is actually taken. Jackie, come sit next to me.” She smiled an even phonier smile than Donna had. She had rosy cheeks paired with pearly, white teeth. Nina was the mean girl in the group, but you wouldn’t know unless she wanted you to know, and she wanted Kurma to know she wasn’t welcomed. Kurma would be another mouth to feed, more clothes to steal, less hot water for her, and another girl to look after.
Jackie followed the sound of Nina’s voice and obediently sat on the other side of the two girls.
Kurma saw that the girl on the bed hadn’t moved or even once opened her mouth to speak. “Anyone sitting here?” She made her way toward the queen-sized bed.
The girl swiftly moved to the side, then rolled off the bed and sat next to Jackie. There were four girls sitting on two bean bags, which made for an odd sight.
Kurma laughed in her head. The girls had no idea she was used to this kind of treatment. She had always been a loner. If the girls had actually been nice to her, she may not have known what to do.
“Look, let’s cut out all this unnecessary tension.” Rimselda went and sat next to Kurma on the bed. “You don’t know her. I get that. But you don’t have to alienate the girl. I say we vote for her to stay or go.”
“I vote stay.” O’bellaDonna was the first to speak.
Kurma was silently surprised. Maybe she had a friend after all in the big-hipped girl called Donna.
Rimselda raised her hand. “I vote for her to stay as well.”
“Well I vote for her to get the hell out,” Nina said without raising her hand.
Chelsea followed right after her.
“I vote for me to stay,” Kurma said.
“Newcomers do not get a say in the voting…moron,” Nina said.
Kurma cut her eyes to the girl. She had a big mouth. Before, Kurma had thought she was a dingbat; now she realized she was just a smart-aleck who had never been slapped for what came out of that mouth. If Kurma couldn’t stay here then she would definitely lay one on this girl before she left.
The vote came down to one girl.
April looked at the new girl. She saw a brunette with long, pretty hair and olive, milky skin, pale-orange lips and noticeably thick eyebrows. April had thought O’bellaDonna would not have liked her. The choice would have been clearer if O’bellaDonna had voted against the girl. April didn’t like confrontation one bit, and could see that everyone was waiting on her vote. She thought long and hard. Rimselda had taken a liking to Kurma, Nina disliked everyone but herself, and Chelsea followed behind Nina like a sick puppy. April couldn’t find anything physically wrong with Kurma, so she couldn’t use that as an excuse. She decided to test the girl’s mental capacity. That way it would technically be her wrong answer that made the vote, not April’s.
“You have to answer one question only,” she said. “If you get the ques
tion right then I will vote for you. If you get the question wrong then you’re out on your ass immediately.”
Nina looked at April and couldn’t believe the balls on the girl. If it had come down to her, the answer still would have been no—instantly. Playing around with trick questions was beneath Nina. She was upfront, blunt, and to the point. Life was too short to waste time.
“Okay, here goes,” April cleared her throat. She remembered all the dumb jokes her dad used to tell her before the accident happened. She found a suitable one—a silly riddle that could be simple if you knew how to think around the question.
Kurma mentally prepared herself for the worst. Rimselda had told her that April was supposed to be the funny girl in the group. Kurma hoped the question wouldn’t be some joke that everybody knew except her. That would have been embarrassing.
April said, “What starts with a T, ends with a T, and is full of T?”
The room went silent. Nina was stumped; she didn’t even try to figure it out. O’bellaDonna gave it a go but only came up with teat and tight, and neither made any bit of sense. Rimselda had never been any good at riddles. Chelsea raised her hand to have a go at it, but Nina nudged her hard in the ribs.
“Well, we’re all waiting.” April smiled. The riddle was easy—you just had to go through the entire alphabet to figure it out. It made April miss her dad and his quirky sense of humor.
Kurma sat on the bed, feeling all eyes on her. She ran through the letters in her head. The end of the alphabet was a no go. The beginning was too obvious.
“I am a teapot, full of tea!” Kurma was sure of it. She looked at April, who wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Well, is she right?” asked Nina.
April looked around the room. “I vote for Kurma to stay.”
“Awww, come on, man. You can’t be serious. She couldn’t have gotten that right,” screamed Nina, getting up from the beanbag. “You two must be in cahoots. I want a rematch.”
O’bellaDonna walked away, unmoved by Nina’s antics. Jackie frowned at April and at Kurma. Chelsea set the playing cards on the ground and followed Nina as she stomped her feet and yelled loud enough for everyone to hear. Rimselda looked at Kurma and gave her an approving smile.
Kurma sat there and beamed. She was victorious. That was too easy, she thought. She had won her away into a group of girls who could be turned into Raptors—her Raptors. One leap for Kurma and a hundred leaps for her plan.
