After Hope Dies

by Lilly Haraden

  Maria cuts in, says, ‘I do lots with my dad. Hey, is that origami or just regular papercraft?’

  ‘Zhezhi; we use slightly more complicated shapes.’

  ‘What’s zhezhi?’

  As the two discuss the finer details of Mainland papercrafting, Dani feels a tap at her shoulder. One of Bax’s shadow spotters bends down and murmurs deep into her ear, ‘Client’s requesting you by proper name.’

  She covers her mouth with the back of her hand and replies, ‘Watch her. He won’t cause trouble but his friends might; pull her out when they arrive.’

  Spotter nods; Dani gives a little signal to Maria (good luck!) and leaves for the red rooms.

  In the compressed cube of red light and sweet musk, she allows her client to engorge his urges. All the prosaic details aren’t worth more description than what is afforded to them in a list: oral, anal, vaginal, with protection. Man’s not a talker or a lingerer; with a limp and wet penis stuffed back into boxers he gives her an appreciative nod and exits without further word. If only they could all be that simple. Dani lies back in the neon red cube and lets the cushions take her. Her walls ache, just a little bit. She draws a shape around the ceiling light with her finger like a rock orbiting a long-dead sun. Out goes the light as her thumb crashes into its mass.

  Maria’s back at the bar. Thank god for shadows, for their gentle foreigner’s company look decidedly gruff and adult with their heads all together now. Interesting, for tonight they share the dance space with the scum of the PD. Just beside them. Right there in those six booths. If only they knew! Imagine that – criminal and enforcer sitting side by side watching a dance show, tonight starring Frankie. This is the main bidding war. Central stage and all eyes focused on the empty spotlight. Corny drum-roll. Closed curtain so still. Then out comes Frankie! With solar precision all the heads turn and watch. Girl’s a real rival to Janelle in terms of dancing – how she can shake those hips and what she does with her hands to draw attention to all the wrong places. Eyes follow and out come the poly notes…

  Maria leans up into Dani’s ear and asks what they’re doing and Dani has to explain frankly about Frankie. ‘Whoever gives her the most money gets to chat with her afterwards. If they like her, they can sleep with her.’

  Girl isn’t too impressed by that. Dani turns back to Frankie and marvels at how well the girl’s taken to the life of prostitution. Janelle had worked a miracle on her that night. And one day, it’ll be little Maria’s turn. One day.

  Dani serves three more clients through the night, and with some careful management, Maria avoids the worst of the worst throughout the evening. Cops are good like that – they can temper the atmosphere. Tonight, however, wasn’t exactly stress-free. Bax was right – they are understaffed and Dani had to take over some of the missing women’s regulars. Frankie was bought twice. Maple and Treasure and Sammi and Julie and Mars were too. Lots of first-timers; all the pros doing four plus clients. All hands in the thick of it…

  In the baths afterwards, Dani scrubs herself down and spends precious minutes with her nose in the perfume bottle trying desperately to smell something other than the semen stuck up the back of her throat. Maria – who refuses the second bath and stands dressed by the curtain peeping in on Dani like an enthusiastic client – asks if everything’s ok.

  ‘Just enjoying the water. I’ll wash my hair later. Time to take you home soon; why don’t you pop into the dresser and find Maple?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Few precious minutes pass…and the clock strikes one.

  Change rooms. Maria’s standing beside Maple. Both have enormous lollipops in their mouths and Dani feels strangely jealous until Madia throws her a leftover. ‘Catch – watermelon.’

  Pay’s divided up evenly with the help of a bureaucratic spotter and a couple of the older workers; Dani doesn’t feel like playing the part of overseer tonight but things go smoothly. Little Maria fans out the money in front of her nose.

  ‘Two thousand…that’s so much money! Wait ’til I show Dad!’

  Oh yes, won’t he be proud. But little thing, two thousand is nothing to get excited about. Wait until you’re earning double that, and more…

  Everyone’s changed back into their normal street clothes now. Colours are more muted. Atmosphere: calm. Dani catches eyes with Frankie in a thick black hoodie, her eyes low and dark. The girl throws back a funny look, something kind of sour. Her eyes then fall over to Maria, who gazes back at the slut with some unabashed curiosity.

  The star mumbles angry, soft, tired, ‘What are you looking at, bitch?’

  Maria blushes, eyes away. Dani steers her to the door, whispers into her ear, ‘The girls are a little testy after work. Leave them be.’

  Outside brings an especially chilly end to the evening. Fritzy escorts the women to Snow White and stands around until both workers are safely mounted.

  ‘Night, girls.’

  ‘Night, Fritzy.’

  And through the streets of Paris they go, leaving behind the sleepy Magic Carpet Ride and all the men and woman who depend on it. Coming filtered through the helmet comms, Dani asks, ‘First shift wasn’t too bad, was it?’

  ‘No! I liked it.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘One guy tried to touch me on the bum but the spotter got to him before I could blink.’

  ‘Creep. How rude. I remember when I first started working a couple of the patrons used to touch me inappropriately. One day I had enough so I grabbed the man’s fingers and twisted them around just a little. Not enough to really do damage but enough to make him uncomfortable. I said to him, “If you’re going to touch me, you better follow through and pay. I doubt you can afford that”.’

  ‘Wow. I would have slapped him.’

  ‘Can’t, dear – they’re customers, after all.’

  ‘That girl – the peacock who danced on stage with all the men watching just her. She was so brave to do that.’

  ‘Maple. Janelle’s jealous of her.’

  ‘Janelle?’

  ‘A friend of mine. You’ll like her – I’ll introduce you to her soon.’

  ‘I can see why she is jealous…um, about that other girl. When you were in the baths I asked Frankie if she really had sex with the men after she danced.’

  ‘…what did she say?’

  ‘She nodded to me and I asked if it hurt but she said only a little bit now. I asked her if she liked it but she just shrugged at me and I think I kind of pissed her off.’

  Dani stops at the lights and tilts her head back; she can’t quite see her little sister but she can feel her shift about on the back seat. Girl fingers tap their rhythm of questions in Dani’s leather as they start off again. Maria says, ‘She gets paid lots for that, doesn’t she?’

  ‘She does.’

  With some relief, Dani hears her little sister say, ‘I don’t think I could ever do that.’

  Of course, this is certain to change with time.

  ‘I was supposed to give you the talk, wasn’t I? I forgot all about it.’

  Quiet. ‘Next time.’

  Next time.

  Dani takes her cycle into the public housing lobby this time, actually pushing it up the front stairs and through the door. Rest, Disney Princess, against the mailboxes, locked sweet into the support pillar. They ascend and Dani deposits girl home. Father was waiting. Fathers usually wait for the first couple of weeks. But see? One forty: bang on the dot. The man sweeps his daughter up tight and hugs her like the world will end with the rising sun.

  ‘Look how much money we made,’ Maria whispers, fanning out the polymers. Dani likes the emphasis on the ‘we’ – father and daughter. Dani looks around then and for perhaps the first time affords this place some level of agency inside her mind’s eye. It’s a two-room flat: there is the bathroom, and here is the television and fridge and cooker and bed. Dani sees it then. She walks over to a little table beside the shared bed and picks up the book on papercraft. Inside: all manner of items sprea
d in glorious colour across what must be the girl’s finest possession. Look around you, Dani, and you’ll begin to notice the art. See the ships sailing on the bedsheets and stars made of paper cubes hanging from the ceiling lights. Bears chasing salmon in blue paper streams and stalks and cranes dancing across the swamplands. A galaxy of stars and papercuts and craft knives to carve out the perfect lines. There’s Link from Wind Waker in all his impish glory. There’s Dory and Nemo next to Joy. There’s a little paper family and all the girl’s friends, and a thin woman in front of her motorcycle with blue hair.

  ‘Thank you for bringing her home safely, Daniela.’

  ‘Not a trouble, sir.’

  Meeting his eye proves somewhat difficult despite her years of practical experience with men. To deliver this child back into the loving arms of someone is a good thing, perhaps just good enough to outweigh the fact that Dani is grooming the child for the long walk down prostitution’s pathway.

  Little does the man know that the contract he signed comes with a silent debt for ‘training services.’

  ‘See you next time, big sis.’

  ‘See ya, kiddo.’

  Warm hug, flick on the nose. Maria touches the point of contact and smiles.

  Down at her cycle (miraculously still in one piece) she stops and rubs her tired eyes, hand on the handlebars. Phone buzzes. What now. And Dani answers. Picture from Bax.

  Her heart stops as she sees who’s in the preview window.

  Immediately, Dani grips the phone with both hands and opens the video, pumping the sound up.

  Mirror, with Bax.

  Outside the Magic Carpet Ride in the car park. Bax rests on his knees with his head hung low; a strange web of light covers the man’s body. Pink and neon. Dani peers into the crackly video and recognises the unmistakable circles of a powerful hex. He’s been rendered entirely useless. A spike of fear rips the woman’s heart in two as the video flips around and shows a full image of Mirror Janelle holding the phone out to capture her glory. Smile, daddy’s little slut, with a glassy dagger waving lazily beside her face.

  And out trickle these words from the mouth of that deadly spirit:

  Last Night of Love

  ‘Bax was an idiot not to warn you about me. Left him wide open. I was all ready to kill the man too, but he ax me to grant him one final request. I’m bound to. It’s the law. So here it is: he wants Janelle here so I can talk with her. If you and she don’ show yo’ faces in half an hour, Bax don’t get his wish. Don’t bother bringin’ no gun – we’re too far gone fo’ that.’

  Smile. One last shot of Bax. New detail: a strange gang of spirits float in the background; Dani doesn’t have time to count them all as she hears Mirror call out, ‘See you real soon, big sis.’

  Video ends.

  The woman plays the video again. Stops at the end. Shakes and leans across the mail boxes as the fear rises total. She dry retches across number thirty-seven and for a horrible moment she is nowhere. Dark and cold as her body quakes back to sense. She didn’t feel her legs give way but here she is, at her knees, eyes level with Snow White’s neon circus. Come on, Dani. Think. Do more than think: act.

  And the woman sets off. Not long from here to Janelle’s residence. What on earth will she say to the girl’s mother to convince her to let a child of twelve out on a Sunday at:

  Two in the morning, Daniela pulls up outside the Broadchurch residence. Texts Jan. And before she has any semblance of a plan formed she finds her fist at the door, banging loud in time with her heart. No answer. Again! And the wood peels apart an inch with a sleepy-eyed preteen rubbing gluey, icky eyes. Eyes that look up past the security chain and soften just a little.

  ‘Oh, Dani. Hi.’

  ‘Jan, Jan, we need to go. Put some clothes on, hurry up.’

  ‘Huh?’

  Dani tries to keep her voice even but she ends up sounding manic. Maybe she has good reason to: ‘Mirror is going to kill Bax if we don’t stop her.’

  Oh.

  ‘Where’s your mother? She around?’

  ‘Mum?’ Janelle lists her head to the side as if Dani’s crazy.

  What? Dani, don’t you remember what happened to—

  ‘Wait, Bax is in trouble?’

  Yes, child, yes!

  ‘Come in and help me choose something to wear.’

  ‘God, we don’t have time. Pick something warm and let’s go.’

  Jan nods but closes the door. Dani waits, counting the seconds. What can she do? There is nothing to do. Bax is the key to this world – if he dies, everything she has worked towards will come tumbling down into ruin. Everything good that Janelle has worked towards, undoing her problems with kindness, will be useless. Yet, can she willingly bring Janelle into harm’s way in full knowledge of Mirror’s plans? Dani sucks in morning air through closed teeth and turns the atmosphere into a ghost. Hssssssssssss.

  Where is Corrina? Oh, Dani, you know exactly where that woman is. And isn’t.

  This world is so fragile. Mirror is already breaking it apart, leaking in her poison.

  What can she do?

  Out comes Janelle in her white dress. Winter red jacket and yellow bow peeking between the jacket zipper. Converse sneakers. Black leggings. Beautiful Hat.

  ‘Lose the hat.’

  Janelle shakes her head, defiant. ‘If I’m going to face Mirror then I need to dress how I feel. Do you understand?’

  Dani thinks she does. They walk to Snow White and Jan asks briskly, ‘Do you have a plan?’

  ‘A plan, for what? To kill Mirror? No. Here, take a look at the video she sent.’

  Video plays while the cycle starts. As soon as it’s finished, Dani snatches the Shandian back from Janelle and orders her to put her helmet on. Jan has to clutch the hat to chest. All secure, the women set off. There is nothing special about the drive over – panic rends the landscape as a furious black mess, a dog chasing by their sides wherever they go. Detroit’s suburban bonfires light the way instead of the streetlights that don’t work no more. Compton’s thousand-marble eyes in the jungle leer at them from all places, and just over there are the D.C. slums where the lights don’t turn on and never will. Dani loses focus on the bend between Chinatown and Market and nearly clips that same fire hydrant again; correcting, swearing loudly into her helmet, the woman straightens on the final stretch to the Magic Carpet Ride.

  A nuclear light orbits the brothel like a harbinger. Dani hears the little voice of Janelle through her helmet and the tone sours her heart. ‘Oh, Dani…’

  For this aura is not simply a visible entity. Dani can feel its disturbance right at her core. Deep, festering unhappiness. Gravity sucking the juices from her eyes and forcing the blood in her heart to harden. Stone, beating, stone. The woman struggles to keep her balance on the motorbike and sends Snow White into a sad stupor across the pavement, coming to rest in a hedge. Jan jumps off in time; Dani scampers off her seat, almost drunk with the nausea of this horrible ghastly pall that has infected the world. Janelle comes to her side, seemingly unaffected. Helmets off. Purple rain starts to fall so slow from heaven. Insubstantial and flossy. Like sleety, sooty blood. It feels warm on her skin and collects in Janelle’s hair like little stars. Tears fill Dani’s eyes; she looks too beautiful to die. The young girl asks if big sister is ok.

  ‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’

  Dani lets her helmet smack hard into the pavement like a bowling ball. Hands on the temples, pain in the bones – they say nothing about being fine, fine. Older woman breathes thickly and looks around for the back entrance to the club carpark; Janelle plops her hat on straight, takes her minder’s hand and the two cut the distance.

  ‘Dani…’

  ‘What is it?’

  They stop just outside. Dani leans down and looks into the eyes of her love. Little girl says, ‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough to defeat Mirror.’

  Dani swallows hard and affords herself a moment of clarity by saying, ‘I wager that whatever weapon she’s ho
lding isn’t the sort of weapon you’d use against her. You’re opposites, after all. Maybe you’ve got a weapon more powerful than hers?’

  Janelle nods, agreeing. ‘I do.’

  ‘Then let’s put her out of her misery.’

  Jan nods and steps back a moment. Her jacket zipper screams out and Janelle wriggles free of the fabric. Her beautiful dress shines through. She is ready.

  Mirror’s waiting for them. Hand on hip, hand on blade, like a fencer with a tiny foil all ready to slice and dice. Bax by her side, kneeling, body slumped, head low.

  Jan and Dani stand in the middle of the carpark now. No more flash cars. The club’s neon letters glow like a foggy lighthouse to background the horror. Bax raises his head with what must be colossal effort as his eyes catch sight of Dani. Dread. Fear. But he’s powerless now. Look at him. Useless, his arms drooping to the gravel as if the nerves have been severed. Pink hexes orbit the freak and lock his power at bay. Or, rather, locks out Dani’s power over the heart of Bax. Mirror comes before them and spreads her hands out in sordid welcome; Dani has to stop Janelle from getting any closer – hand in front, pressing into the dress. Stay here, child.

  Mirror caws, ‘Welcome! You made it! Minutes to spare. Figured you might pop on home and grab yo’self a gun, Dani. Imagin’ my surprise when you come unarmed!’ The girl giggles – actually giggles – and the sound sets the woman’s teeth on edge. As she dies down, Dani notices shadows swimming in the foggy light all around them – like an army of servants held back, so willing to help their freak master but unable to interfere. Witnesses only. So it’s true: Bax is completely disarmed.

  But not all spirits are held back. See there, behind Mirror, behind Bax. Four horrid, messy monsters bleed from the ethereal flow and snap to reality. See them assemble, coming for Bax like executioners. Light from the neon club sign cuts up their form into crimson, into dark shapes. Each tells a story:

  The Counterfeiter who liked the way Janelle moved her hips but wished for a ‘whiter’ version.

  The Reflex who desired freedom from his prison inside a cancerous arm.

  The Macaque who wanted to feast on a young girl’s pain.