by Jamie Ott
“Hey,” he said as they sat at the bar. “What’ll it be?”
“Cape cod,” said Star.
“Two Irish Car Bombs and a Zombie.”
“I.D.?”
“I showed you my I.D. before,” said Starr, fishing her wallet.
They made it a priority to get the best fakes in the city, for that, they went to the local cosa nostra in Little Italy.
“Yeah, alright. I was just teasing, anyway. It’s just you both look so young.”
After pouring himself a quick shot, he set to making the drinks.
“So what are you guys up to tonight?”
“I just got off work and, get this, some weird girl was following me. Earlier, today, I was cornered by two bitches at school. This girl, the size of a mountain, scares them off.”
“Had you seen her any other time before?”
“No, but keep your eye out. It’s very suspicious, I think.” Leaning over, she whispered so only Marla could hear, “She’s got no scent.”
“Cheers,” interrupted Seth.
They sat drinking and talking and, Marla was right, she was starting to feel a little something, but it was a very light, euphoric feeling.
Starr just about jumped out of her socks when Mica snuck up behind them, shouting at them: Seth knocked over his bottle of rum and Marla shrieked.
“Ah haha,” she laughed.
“You suck! Don’t do that!” shouted Starr.
“What? You didn’t sense me?”
“No, we didn’t. It’s harder to sense our kind,” said Marla.
“I thought you sensed me earlier?” asked Starr.
“Well, I smelled your deodorant. We’re not all the same, remember that. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean I can. ”
“Well, I sense you two all the time, so you’re right, we’re not all the same,” she laughed. “You probably didn’t sense me this time because I focused on cloaking myself.”
“What are you girls talking about?” Seth looked confused.
“Nothing important,” said Mica.
“How was work?” asked Marla.
“Was alright, I guess. Didn’t make too many tips, though. It was slow and Jason kept telling me what to do, like he’s my boss or something. I’d like to slip my fang across his throat, sometimes,” she said out of the corner of her mouth.
“Do you think they would hire me?” asked Starr.
“Why? You didn’t get fired, did you?”
“No but I’m sick of the drivel that comes into Billie’s. Tonight I had to clean up someone’s regurgitated steak and beer, it was horrible. I just don’t want to do it anymore; bikers are trashy people.”
“Well, let me ask. I’m sure he could use you for something. What drinks do you know how to make?”
“Uhhh…. None. But I can learn them, no problem. You know that.”
“Okay!” shouted Mica. “Let’s show Starr how to make some drinks. What do you say, Seth?”
“I say let’s do it.”
They were up until 4 am teaching Starr the many popular drinks that would come up, in a bar like The Gaul: Adios Mother Effers, tequila suns’, cosmopolitans, dirty martinis, purple nurples, lemon drops, and much more.
Then, about 4am, they cleared out of there so Marla could close up, and leave before Meredith, her boss, came in.
Proper Introductions
Chapter 3
Starr had two hours until class. She, Marla, and Mica walked back to the clinic.
“I don’t feel anything!” exclaimed Starr.
“Neither do I,” said Mica.
“I feel something, really dizzy. Maybe it’s something to do with my brain. I was an insomniac when I was alive, now I never sleep. Is there a connection between serotonin and alcohol, maybe?” Marla asked.
“Ask the brain, Shane,” said Starr.
They walked along the chain link fence, reminding Starr of Mot.
“Have you guys noticed Mot hanging out here, smoking a lot?”
“Yes, I told him to move it to the next block. He was out here for a few hours straight,” Marla replied.
“You think he’s dealing drugs?” asked Mica.
“I don’t know. It occurred to me but I didn’t ask. I don’t care what he does, just as long as he doesn’t do it here,” replied Starr.
“I care,” said Marla. “If he doesn’t straighten up, then we need to get him help. We promised to protect these kids, so we can’t just turn our backs on them when they get into trouble.”
“Marla,” said Starr, “we’re not his parents. We made it clear that they need to look after themselves, or else they have to leave.”
“Well, he’s looking after himself, alright,” Mica said sarcastically. “He thinks he’s slippin’ by, right under our noses. What else could he possibly be hiding? What’ll it be next?”
“What if he’s storing drugs in the clinic?” asked Starr off the top of her head.
They all got extremely quiet.
Starr supposed they were thinking what she was thinking. That if he was selling drugs, he had to be storing his supply somewhere. It was likely that place was the clinic.
If there was one thing cops did come to their part of town for, it was to catch drug dealers. One could see them following suspected dealers on the street, and sometimes pick out the cops who were staking out houses. If there was one thing Starr was certain of, it was that all drug dealers get caught, eventually.
Starr and Mica walked behind Marla, up to the rotted wood boards covering the short walkway. She turned around and said, “Alright, then. He’s gotta go. I’ll talk to him about it later today.”
“Wait for Starr, to do it. Mot can get loud and violent sometimes. If he tries anything, Starr will put him in his place.”
Marla looked upset and worried. It was times like this, when Starr thought about Credenza’s estimation of vampires like Marla.
One day, Starr was going to sit down and talk to Marla about getting into zen meditation with Shane because she needed to get her emotions under control before it would be too late.
~~~
“You guys suck,” Shane greeted them in the waiting room where she, and several others, ate breakfast.
Sometimes Shane got jealous because, not only was she excluded because of her mind reading abilities, but also because she worked the most opposite hours of them.
Shane worked in the registrar’s office of the University so she could get discounted classes while keeping most of her award and loan money. Since she was off work, and often done with classes, by 5 pm, she’d be home while Starr, Marla, and Mica were just heading out. One by one, as their shifts would end, they’d stop by each other’s work while Shane was stuck with the kids at the clinic.
“Oh come on,” said Mica. “We were teaching Starr how to bar tend.”
“Great,” she said and took a bite of her egg.
“We’ll go out tonight,” said Starr. “Don’t look so down.” She walked over and gave her a warm hug around the shoulders.
~~~
Starr showered and changed for school.
The morning went by in much the same fashion as it always did: Starr trying to stay awake during lectures, which had become too slow for her fast brain, and being awoken by the giggles and pricks of her tormentors after nearly slipping off into sleep.
“Hey, Starr,” whispered Marcus from a few seats behind. “Why are you always sleeping in class? Do you walk on the dark side, at night? It must be a rough road, going to hell every night, only to return in the mornings. Did you get permission to come to this school? Because hell is not in this district.”
“Tuh,” said Starr; their taunts got more and more stupid.
Sometimes she contemplated testing out and going straight to college. Then, at least, could get ahead, quickly, and put to good use, her full potential. The only thing that held her back was that she wanted a
diploma, not a GED.
She contemplated these thoughts over her lunch when a boy in a black leather jacket approached her at her table.
“Hi,” he said. “I’ve seen you before.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember?”
She looked at him a moment and, although she did remember, she decided to let him introduce himself.
“I’m Antony, no H, just Antony. I saw you get cornered by those two girls, the other day. My friend, Bielz, helped you out.”
Starr tried to read him, to get some sense from him: friend or foe to her, but she got nothing. He was the plain one, but unlike his friend, he gave off the distinct scent of danger, despite her not being able to determine if he was a threat to her, specifically.
Taking measure of his calm eyes and face, and bleached out hair that was meticulously spiked, she decided that he appeared friendly, at the moment.
“I’m Starr,” she said, serenely.
“Why do you look at me like that? Are you scrutinizing me? Do you not trust me?”
The question threw Starr, for a moment. Rarely, had she been directly addressed in such a way, before; rarely, had another read her as accurately as she could read them.
Perhaps she underestimated him when she thought he was the least clever. Maybe he was the cleverest because he noticed her without letting her know it.
Inwardly, she remained suspicious but meeting him and seeing his strength of mind was attractive to Starr.
“So I see you got the sloppy joe… I love these things,” and he stuck his finger into the side of her sandwich, lifted some meat and sauce to his mouth and sucked.
The shock must have shown on her face because he laughed loudly, afterward.
She decided she didn’t like him.
“Go away,” she said aptly, and returned to her lunch.
“Wow! You really are a straight arrow kind of girl. You said that without the least bit of feeling, and I almost believed it.”
“Believed it?”
“That you want me to go away.”
Starr noticed a smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth, and the smile in his eyes: he thought he was being cute and flirtatious. He thought he was irresistible.
She leaned over, looked deep into his eyes and said, “Believe it. Go away.”
“You know, I just started here, a couple weeks ago. My father works for this company called…”
She stood, picked up her books and tray, and walked to a table on the other side of the room, but Antony followed her, still talking.
She knew it would do no good to walk away, for he would just follow her. It was obvious, to her, that this was part of his plan to make her like him.
So she allowed him to talk as she ate and did homework, as if he wasn’t even there. When the bell rang, she gathered her items and left without a word.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” he half shouted at her back.
At the end of the day, as Starr walked out of building, she looked to her right and noticed a crew of men in white jump suits with power washers in their hands.
On the wall, the words ‘cut and bleed’ had been spray painted, and they were attempting to power wash it off, as it was a brick building so paint wouldn’t do.
As she walked along the school fence, she also noticed a small group of kids hanging out across the street from the power washers. One of them was Antony, and one of the others was the girl who followed her the prior evening.
They saw her watching them and waved, but Starr ignored them and kept on.
~~~
Back at the clinic, it appeared that Marla had already cornered Mot. In his room, he sat on the bed with a red face.
“Marla, I thought you were gonna wait for me?”
“He was about to leave, and I didn’t know when he’d be back. We need to take care of this quickly.”
Mot raised his red, saddened eyes to Starr. She could sense he was upset and knew she should feel sorry for him, even if she, really, didn’t.
“Listen, Mot,” Starr said, “we don’t want to send you away. We like you but we have to put our needs, and the needs of the others, first.”
“I know. I just tr-r-y,” he rolled his r, “to make a-something for myself.”
“Well, we can get you back into school, and we can get you a job. You know that’s what we’re here for, to help you,” said Marla.
“I not a citizen. My dad was arrested and sent to immigration facility. He was deported two weeks ago,” he wiped his tear streaked face, silently, on his sleeve.
Marla gave Starr a sad look; another instance of Marla’s humanity that was still intact. Starr could see the caring and pity in her eyes. For a moment, the look in Marla’s eyes disgusted her. She wanted Marla to be strong, to be better than what she was.
Yes, Starr knew she should feel sorry for Mot, but he could spend the rest of his days eating out of trash cans, and Starr wasn’t sure that she’d feel an ounce of guilt.
“So you thought drugs was the answer? You thought it would be okay to get us all pinched?” asked Starr.
“No but I don’t want to live the r-r-rest of my life, like ‘zis. No offence.’”
“Well, we don’t either, so none taken. We can help you get the life you want, but you’ll never get it with drugs. We can help you with your legal status, but you have to stop what you’re doing, now,” said Starr.
Mot sat silent for a moment. He stood up and walked over to a section of linoleum square. He lifted it and pulled a pouch of white powder.
“He will not like ‘zis, Stephen. He is big time, and might hurt you. It would be better for me to just go on the r-r-run.”
“We’ll return it, for you. There’s no need for you to go anywhere. We’ve got our own, shall we say, resources. Don’t worry, we got this. Just tell us where to find him.”
Marla wrote Mica and Shane a note while Star went and changed into her black, steel toed boots. Inside her jacket, she stored two throwing stars and a dagger. She wrapped a makeshift belt around her waist; it held two machetes. From around her neck, she unlocked the chain she wore and wrapped it around her fist.
She hoped she wouldn’t need to use them, but drug dealers were the worst sort.
They must have looked menacing as they walked down the street because people seemed to eager steer away from them.
Marla carried the drugs in a bag she held close to her gut. She looked scared, as if she already knew what was coming.
They continued on until they reached a large rundown red brick building. From somewhere inside reeked out a broken sewer pipe.
After looking at each other, one final time, they walked up the steps and rang the door bell.
No answer came, but someone buzzed the door open. Starr first, they walked up the pine cleaner scented steps.
“Oh man,” Marla cried. “When I was alive, I could barely stand these smells, but now,” and she started to make gagging noises.
Starr stopped and waited.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”
Finally, they reached Stephen’s door.
Starr knocked; the door opened.
“We want to speak to Stephen,” said Starr.
“Who’s asking?” asked a sullen faced man, but Starr could sense that he was the man they were looking for.
“I’m Starr. I’m here for Mot. We have your product, and we want to return it.”
The man stepped aside and let them through the door.
“I’m sorry but the deal I made to Mot was that he would move this. Now you bring it back?”
“Give it to someone else.”
“Well, actually, he still owes me $300, judging by the fact that this is all you have.”
Marla bent over and got some money from within her shoe, but the man didn’t look like he wanted to take it.
“Look, maybe we can work something out. I know you don’t want your friend working, but it
’s only because of kids like him that I can move this stuff. He can’t be held responsible and, without parents, he can’t be questioned.”
“We don’t care. He’s our friend, and he’s off limits.”
“Yeah, okay. Fine,” but he didn’t look fine. Starr could sense his body giving off the dangerous chemistry. He was planning one last attack, a little payback.
One look at Marla told Starr that she’d picked up the same vibe, too.
“Look, we’re gonna give you one chance to change your mind about what it is you plan to do,” said Starr.
“I plan nothing, you can go.”
“But you’re lying. You’re planning, right now, to attack us. To beat us down, to show us up,” Starr replied.
“Yeah, so what,” he shoved Starr, but he might as well have been pushing a brick wall. He looked at her, strangely, but quickly recovered and said, “I can do what I want, now get the hell out!”
The man reached out to push Marla. Starr raised her hand, quicker than he could blink. He slammed his fingers into the palm of Starr’s rock hard hand, and there was a multitude of loud cracking noises.
He lowered down his hand, holding his wrist: several of his fingers were, clearly, broken.
“Oh crap,” said Starr looking at his misshapen hand.
She knew this was bad; that she might have unintentionally started a war. Now he was, for sure, gonna get back at them.
Starr pulled Marla aside, “We have to kill him.”
“What? We’re not killing anybody!”
They thought he couldn’t hear them, but Starr sensed his change from pain to desperation, which meant he was planning an attack right there.
She was right, for he pulled out a gun and shot Starr directly in the stomach.
It was like being whacked in the gut with the flat head of a crow bar. The wind was knocked out of her, not that she breathed anymore, but she could feel air, that occupied her lungs, forced out.
Both Marla and the man looked at her; Star could see the concern and curiosity in Marla’s eyes. None of them had ever been shot before.
And then the pain lifted, but the bullet was still inside her, she could feel it resting against her stomach tissue.