Shock

by Francine Pascal

  Gaia grabbed at the arm across her throat instinctively, then put her training into action, turning her head to the side and shoving briskly upward with her hands. Your average girl would have had no effect on the oversized arm encircling Gaia’s throat. But your average girl was not Gaia Moore.

  Her choke-hold attacker fell forward, then grabbed at the air in confusion as Gaia stepped back and took a fighting stance. She gave a whirling roundhouse kick that caught one of the guys in the nuts; he tried to grab at her foot, but it was obvious that his only training was as a street fighter, and he was too uncoordinated to disable her. She shoved the heel of her hand into his face and felt his nose break, blinding him with blood and tears. She didn’t know how many other guys were on the shadowy dark boardwalk with her and didn’t want to stick around to find out; Gaia took off running, sprinting down the boardwalk toward a streetlight, hoping there would be an exit back to the street there. She wasn’t sure how many of these guys she could disable before they overpowered her.

  Behind her she heard their footsteps thundering and realized she had really pissed someone off. She’d robbed these guys of an easy mark, and now they wanted revenge.

  Gaia needed to turn the tables. Stepping into an alley, she leapt up onto a fire escape and waited a moment. She heard their footsteps approach and leapt quickly down with her full weight onto the last of the goons—there were three now, she could see that—and punched at his face from above. Gaia had both gravity and surprise on her side. The guy tumbled to the sidewalk and gave a shocked yell as she stomped her foot on his face. The other two stopped to look back. In that brief moment under the streetlight Gaia could see the damage she’d done to one of their noses. She gave a battle yell and ran at them like a crazy person, swinging a crowbar she’d found on the fire escape. She felt a thud as it made contact with some part of one of the two guys; that was all they needed. She almost laughed as she saw them start running again—in the opposite direction.

  Now she had a taste for the fight. Though she knew logically she should quit while she was ahead, some ancient, instinctive voice from the deep recesses of her brain told her she was having too much fun. Her legs agreed and took off after them, racing to catch up and cause more damage. Attack a defenseless little female on the boardwalk, would they? She’d show them. Anger pumped through her veins along with adrenaline to keep her going at top speed.

  But the goons knew this neighborhood, and she didn’t. As they approached an avenue, they split off in two different directions. Gaia looked wildly up and down, through the sparsely populated street under the elevated train. One man hopped into a sedan that sped off; the other crossed in front of a bus and disappeared down a side street. She tried to run after that one, but a bus lurched in front of her, stopping her with a deafening honk as she felt the warm air of its exhaust hit her in the face. By the time it passed, the guy had melted into the night. Gaia’s chase was over.

  She stood for a long moment. She knew what would come next. After any ass-kicking there was a price to pay, and it came upon her from behind now with the force of an explosion: total exhaustion, turning her limbs to rubber and her guts to lead. She heard it in her ears, saw the world fade to black, and felt her back hit the sidewalk as she tumbled to the ground, unconscious.

  Carb-Loaded Coma

  HER EYES OPENED AND GAIA SAW…uh…what?

  Lights. Tons and tons of lights. Gold frescoes in arches. And a bear. A huge brown bear wearing a leather harness and standing in a ring of people. What the hell?

  Her vision cleared a little. The bear was nothing but acrylic paint. Part of a mural on a vaulted ceiling. She blinked twice and faces came into view, ringed around the edge of her vision and looking down at her with varying expressions of worry, concern, and bemusement.

  “She’s awake!” someone said, and several voices gave a cheer.

  Gaia tried to sit, and a soft pair of hands helped pull her up.

  “You’re passing out in front of my restaurant!” The hands and the voice belonged to a stout woman wearing heavy sky blue eye shadow under short, bleached blond hair.

  “I’m so sorry,” Gaia said. “I’ll go.”

  “Seeet!” the woman said, shoving Gaia right back down. Her arms were the size of huge legs of lamb, and their slack skin quivered as she sat Gaia on a high stool with surprising strength. “You are drunk?” she asked suspiciously.

  “No,” Gaia said. The woman smelled her breath, seemed satisfied, and clapped.

  “Then you are hungry,” she announced. She rattled off a series of orders in Russian and slapped the bar next to Gaia.

  Gaia looked around her. This place looked like a palace—well, kind of. A palace built of plastic and mirrors instead of stone and tapestry. Everything around Gaia was shiny, reflective, and marbled. The bar stools were tall chairs with white pleather seats and shiny gold backs; the bar was cool black Formica with a gold pattern of flecks and veins twisting through it. Behind it, bottles gleamed in front of a mirror that wrapped all the way around an already huge room, making this restaurant look like a vast cavern of festive tables. Wherever she was, Gaia had a feeling there was a party here nightly.

  “My name is Luda,” the woman told her. “You?”

  “Gaia,” she told her. The woman’s forehead wrinkled in dismay. “Guy-a,” she repeated.

  Luda shrugged and squeezed Gaia’s knee. The man behind the bar, a huge bear of a man who looked as big as the creature in the mural over their heads, said, “You need strength. Good vodka wake you up, make you feel powerful.”

  “No, no, that’s all right,” Gaia told him.

  “Don’ be stupid,” Luda yelled, smacking the man on his huge forearm with a resounding slap. “She needs food.” As if on cue, three heaping plates of food rattled onto the counter, brought by a beefy man in a stained apron holding a cigar in the corner of his mouth.

  “Stuffed cabbage,” Luda told her, pronouncing it “cebbedge,” the way Natasha and Tatiana did. For a moment Gaia felt a cold shudder run through her. Were these people friends of her newest enemies? Was she about to be ambushed? But as she looked around the room, she saw nothing to make her feel nervous or suspicious. Besides, Natasha was so tasteful and vain; she’d never be caught dead in a place this tacky. Gaia relaxed as much as she ever did and tried a piece of the cabbage.

  It was rich and flavorful—one cabbage roll felt like it could satisfy her for a month. And it just kept coming: bow-tie pasta with barley in a thick gravy, blintzes buried in thick sour cream…the kind of food that was designed to get you through a cold Russian winter.

  A distant memory flamed up in Gaia’s consciousness. Her mother. A fragrant kitchen. Snow outside but bright, yellow warmth inside. And these flavors. This fantastic food, served by her mother. It made her want to sob with the familiar comfort of it.

  She couldn’t believe how confused she felt. On the one hand, being here with these Russians reminded her of the way Natasha and Tatiana had tried to kill her. The horrible betrayal of it all. On the other hand, it brought back everything about her long gone, long dead mother—even the feel of her sweater against her skin, the warmth of her arms around a much younger Gaia. She had to get out of here. This outer-borough experience was making her feel confused and disoriented.

  Gaia lost her appetite. She pushed her plate away, forcing herself to smile at Luda.

  “That is delicious,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “You eat more,” Luda ordered. “You’re skinny, like a stick. You pass out again if you don’t finish food.”

  “I’m really okay,” she said, standing up. “My parents will worry if I don’t get home soon. How much do I owe you for the food?”

  Luda waved off that ridiculous suggestion. “Where you going? I’ll have Vahe drive you,” she insisted. “He’s got a Town Car.”

  “I’ll get on the subway. It’s really okay,” Gaia said, giving her a hug. “You’ve already done too much—I’m embarrassed.”

 
“You come back,” Luda told her. “Come back and I feed you until you strong like me.”

  Gaia smiled and left the restaurant. God, what a homey place. Warm, safe, and caring. How come total strangers treated her like a queen and the people she’d been living with for weeks wanted her dead?

  Just dumb luck, she supposed. She wished she could run back inside and eat brown bread slathered with thick butter until she went into a carb-loaded coma. But while she’d been sitting there, chowing down and making new friends, she’d realized how much she didn’t belong there. While she was stuffing her face, her dad was suffering somewhere, and she was his only hope. And the only way she could find him was to spy on the spies she was living with.

  The job seemed impossible. She dreaded the task ahead of her. But there was no other answer. She had to return to Seventy-second Street, act like she hadn’t found anything out, and live in seeming ignorance, pretending to get along with Natasha and Tatiana while waiting for clues.

  She had to climb back into the snake pit. Sit among the snakes. Let them slither over her. And listen for the secrets that their whispering hisses might reveal.

  Putting the warmth of the restaurant behind her, Gaia faced the night chill and dragged herself reluctantly to the nearest subway.

  Giggly

  ED SAT BACK AND LET OUT AN EXHAUSTED puff of air. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my life,” he said, blinking helplessly at the exactly one mouthful of saag motor ponir sitting in the silver dish in front of him.

  “I will take that,” Tatiana said, scooping it up with her fork.

  “That’s unbelievable! Where are you putting it all, in your backpack?” he asked, peeking under the table to make sure she wasn’t. “You know, a lot of girls are afraid to eat in front of guys.”

  “I am not a lot of girls,” Tatiana said.

  “Well, you eat like you’re about seven of them.”

  “Hey, you guys!”

  Ed looked up to see Megan and three other girls from school.

  “Oh, you found us!” Tatiana cheered. “I didn’t know if you got my message!”

  “You left them a message?” The question just popped out of Ed’s mouth. He hadn’t meant to ask it. He was surprised to find himself feeling disappointed that he wouldn’t have Tatiana all to himself. Despite all the times he had told her—and himself—that his romantic feelings were only for Gaia, he thought—this twinge of regret told him—he might have a little crush on Tatiana, too.

  “Oh, did you think you were going to have her all to yourself?” Megan cooed, as if she’d read his mind.

  “No,” Ed mumbled. This was an annoying development. He didn’t want his feelings to get even more messy and jumbled. Besides, this was a boisterous bunch—even though there were only a few of them, they were so giggly and chatty that they filled the tiny, train-car-size restaurant with their presence. People at other tables kept glancing over. Megan’s book bag boinked a lady sitting across the aisle.

  “Well, we definitely need to adjourn to another location,” Megan announced as the lady glared at her and tried to protect her food from any further unintended book bag onslaughts.

  “Sounds good to me,” Tatiana said. “We should go to Blue and Gold and play pool.”

  “Very badly? Can we play very badly?” Melanie begged.

  “Well, you can,” Megan told her. “I think I’m getting better at it. I’ll kick your ass, anyway.”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Tatiana whispered across the table as she gathered up her things.

  “Of course I don’t,” Ed said. “I might go home, though.”

  “No! You have to come!” Tatiana grabbed his arm affectionately. “I want you to come, too. Please?”

  Ed shrugged. The fact was, he was glad this giggly posse had shown up. They’d stop another awkward confrontation from happening—like when Tatiana had tried to kiss him. If he was developing feelings for her, then he had to keep a comfortable distance. But he really wanted to be out. What was at home? Nothing but thoughts of Gaia.

  “Okay, I’ll come.” He nodded. They went to the divey bar a block away and took over the back room, writing their names on the little blackboard so their mini–pool tournament could proceed. Then the girls started knocking the balls around on the green felt. They clearly had no clue how to play.

  Ed couldn’t resist. “You might want to hold it like this,” he told Megan. “Look, between your knuckles so the cue actually goes where you’re aiming it. Hit this one over here,” he added, pointing out the sweet spot on the seven ball.

  “Ohmigod, it went in!” Megan yelped. “Yay, I’m a pool player!”

  Soon he was giving a miniclinic to the assembled girls. “This should have been your intramural activity, not skateboarding,” Tatiana teased.

  “You’re probably right,” he said. “Especially since there’s a definite irony in my teaching skateboarding after what I did to myself. I should have handed out wheelchairs to everyone who took it.”

  Tatiana laughed. “Ed, you’re terrible!” she scolded.

  Someone handed him a Sam Adams, and Ed took it. It was fun playing pool, but if he’d been given his choice of activities this evening, hanging out with these girls would not have been one of them. As the novelty of the pool lesson wore off, there was more chatting and less ball-hitting. Ed noticed there was a distinctly catty turn to the conversation.

  “I mean, I don’t know who told her Burberry was still in style, but she was wearing that pukey plaid with no shame whatsoever.”

  “Wait, maybe she was being funny.”

  “No, she was not. She was just wearing it. I don’t know why she didn’t pair the skirt with a pair of Y2K commemorative sunglasses and some dot-com stocks. She looked so ninth grade.”

  “Maybe tomorrow she will wear the Ralph Lauren puppy sweater,” Tatiana added to the conversation, pronouncing Ralph Lauren with the correct non-French accent and indicating not only a knowledge of but an interest in both fashion and bitchery. Ed wilted slightly. This wasn’t a surprise, but it was a side of Tatiana that wasn’t his favorite.

  “I heard her father lost a bundle on that merger that never happened,” someone else added. “But if she’s scrounging, she’s better off wearing no name than old names.”

  “She’s better off staying home if she’s going to let her ass get that big,” Tatiana said. “Did anyone notice that the stripes looked like ocean waves?”

  Everybody busted up laughing. Ed had no idea who they were talking about, but something about the conversation was making him kind of sick. Yeah, it was mean, but there was something else, too. He took a long swig of Sam Adams and suddenly felt dismally tired. He put down his cue and went to sit on one of the banquettes.

  I should be happy, he thought. Here I am, out with the hottest girls in school, and I’m the only guy in sight. Isn’t this like the plot of some teen movie? I should be having the time of my life.

  Woo-hoo. The trouble was, something about this scene—the bitchy girls, the fashion report cards, the endless chatter—was awfully familiar. Was he just having a random case of déjà vu or…

  Ugh. He knew exactly what this reminded him of.

  Way back in the far reaches of his memory, he had a vision of himself—young, nervous, and eager to impress his new girlfriend, Heather. He’d fallen for her because of the way she was when she was just with him. But a major flaw in their relationship was the way she became in these packs of females. He had spent too much time hanging out with her in places like this. Listening to her yak with her girlfriends. Struggling to keep up with their cleverer-than-thou bitchfests. Years later, after all he’d been through, he was ending up in the same circle of girls, doing the same shit. Only this time the queen bee was…

  “Ed, don’t be so mopey,” Tatiana complained, coming over and yanking at his arm. “Everybody’s having fun. What are you, a lightweight?”

  Tatiana. She had somehow turned into the new Heather. And she wasn’t the
queen bee. She was acting like the queen bee-yotch. All of a sudden Ed felt like he’d been yanked back into Casa Heatherosa.

  “I want to see someone doing a shot,” she announced, like a demented cruise director. “Who is first?”

  Maybe he was overreacting, Ed thought. Maybe Tatiana just had a couple of drinks in her and was acting obnoxious. But even if that were true, it made him like her less.

  But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that this was the second time in twelve hours that Tatiana had reminded him of someone else. An ex-girlfriend, no less.

  Am I so predictable that I’m going to spend the rest of my life dating the same two girls over and over again? he wondered. Or is Tatiana somehow doing this on purpose?

  He had no idea which—if either—was true. He took a closer look at Tatiana. She had seemed like her old self when he went to her match, but now he was replaying it. There was something in her eyes, some kind of bitterness that hadn’t been there before. Almost like she had experienced some great personal letdown, a betrayal so huge, it had changed her outlook on life.

  But she hadn’t said anything about having problems. They were friends, weren’t they? Ed would have known if something huge had gone down. Maybe she was worried about applying to college? Ed’s sister had turned into an obsessed monster before she’d even ordered her applications, and every meeting with her adviser had thrown her into a deeper funk over how she’d never get into Bennington or Bard. Or something with her dad? Ed had never heard a full explanation of who he was or why he wasn’t around. Most of his friends had an almost fetishistic interest in their absent parents. The more he thought about it, the more he realized something was off with Tatiana, and try as he might, he couldn’t figure out what it could be. She did well in her classes, and she had tons of friends.