*Ainslee*
Two days after the incident with the vampires, I wake up feeling better than I have in a long time. Food makes a world of difference, and as I stretch and yawn, looking out the window at a still dark sky, the feeling of renewal has me looking at the world in a more positive light.
It’s difficult to pull myself from bed without disturbing the littles, but I must. The trash has to be collected, and then, I need to go donate blood. We have a bit of food leftover from the basket the vampires dropped off, but not as much as I’d hoped. My mother didn’t do a very good job of hiding the unperishable items from the neighbors, so they ate a lot of the bread, fruit, and vegetables, besides the meats and cheeses we’d asked them to share with us. We have enough to last us a few more days if no one comes calling, begging for more from our gift. I’ll have to keep up with my usual schedule if I want to make sure that my family continues to eat, despite the unexpected gift we were given.
I’d given blood the day before but didn’t stop by to buy bread, so I’ll have twice as much money today to buy loaves with. That is, if Mr. Black the baker isn’t too upset at me for shouting at him the other day.
It was a big mistake, I recognize now. I hope he’s had some time to think about it, and his greed for my money will make him sell me the bread anyway, despite my mouth. I’ve considered asking Lenny to get it for me, but he’s been in a somber mood since I left him under the tree during the get-together. Everything has been turned upside down recently, and as much as I hate my life here, I do wish it could just get back to normal.
After I finish with the trash collection, I head to the clinic. I hope I get one of the few nice attendants who work here, but it’s Kamila who calls my name. Her eyes are narrow as she shouts in a hoarse voice, “Next!”
I move forward, trying to smile. She always jabs the needle in extra deep, and I swear she finds a way to fill the bag to bursting so that we feel extra queasy when we’re done. I’ve heard they used to give sweets out to people who donated so that they didn’t feel lightheaded, but that hasn’t happened in my lifetime. Now, we get a tiny fragment of an old, dry cracker. I don’t think it even does anything. She gives away the tiniest specks as our “crumb.”
“Oh, it’s you.” She shakes her head and spins on her heel. I follow, not sure why she’s said that. The day before, I had Bertha, and she’s pretty nice. She hadn’t been rude at all. Kamila is always rude, but today seems worse than usual.
The chair squeaks as I sit. We need new ones, but who has money for that? We will be sitting in these until they disintegrate. Thankfully, no one who has to donate often weighs much at all.
Kamila takes my arm roughly once my bag is prepared and shoves the needle down so forcefully into my vein, I wince. Her beady eyes bore into me. “I’m surprised that hurt, what with all the food you’ve been eating lately.”
I’m not sure what food has to do with lessoning the pain of being stabbed, but I say nothing. My new motto is to not speak unless I have to. I’m trying to see how long I can keep from getting myself into trouble. So far, I’ve been at it for a little over twenty-four hours, and it’s been all right.
She isn’t done yet, though. “It’s a shame your family couldn’t share any of that food the vampires gifted you with anyone other than the Moss family. You do know there are others in this village who are hungry, too, don’t you?”
I am confused. Where has she gotten the information that we didn’t share? “We did.” I try to keep my tone pleasant, what with my new motto and all, but when she grunts an angry laugh at me, I feel that blaze begin inside of me again, and the urge to argue is overwhelming.
Still, I tell myself to stay calm and state the facts. “We had Ms. Mildred over, the Stones, the Crags, Ms. Bonnie, Timothy Rice.” I try to remember who else was there. “Several more people from our street came.”
She shakes her head as if every word out of my mouth is a lie. “That’s not at all what I’ve heard. I was told you and your family wouldn’t let anyone else have a bite except that boy you’re sweet on.”
My eyes flicker over to Lenny who is sitting a few chairs down from me. We walked in together, but he was behind me, so this is how the chips fell. He can’t defend me.
It doesn’t really matter what she thinks. She can say what she wants to. I know the truth. The fact of the matter is that we didn’t have to share at all. The vampires gave me the basket because they were apologizing for something that happened to me. Why should we have to share?
I decide to say nothing, only sit there and stare at the wall. My nerves are already getting the better of me because I have to face Mr. Black soon.
By the time I’m done, the bag looks like it’s going to burst, and I feel woozy. Lenny’s been done for several minutes because he had Lola, and she’s nice.
Kamila yanks the needle out and breaks of a flake of cracker for me. She drops it on the floor. “Oops. I guess if you want it, it’s down there. But then, you probably have a whole slab of prime rib in your pocket.” With that, she walks away, leaving me to get out of the chair on my own.
Lenny comes over and offers me his arm. “You’re not gonna faint are you?”
“I’m fine.” I thank him for his help, but as soon as I’m up, he steps away, as if he doesn’t want to touch me. Maybe he feels like he shouldn’t after the other day.
I walk slowly toward the bakery, wishing Lenny would just get my loaves for me, but he doesn’t volunteer, and I don’t ask him. I need to accept responsibility for my own actions.
The line is as long as always. I get in it, letting Lenny go first. It’s a chilly day, and no one says much as we creep forward.
My eyes dart over to the place in the street where I’d had my encounter with that vampire. I don’t even know his name. I could probably ask someone, but what difference does it make? The chances that I’ll ever see him again are slim.
That’s not exactly true. I’ve seen him in my dreams.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. It doesn’t matter. He’s not here. I am. Laslo is going to yell at me, and that’s fine, as long as he gives me the two loaves of bread I’ve saved up for.
A black dog with a chunk missing out of his ear runs over to me, licking his chops. He’s followed closely by a white fuzz ball that’s so dirty it looks brown and a big gray hound. They are all looking at me like I should have something for them.
“Go away,” I tell them. “You’re not getting my bread this time.” I wonder how they even survive. Maybe they eat the scraps out of the rich people’s garbage. When I’m emptying the cans, I never see anything in there worth eating myself. I think I am above that, but there’ve been times when I’ve been so hungry, I might’ve eaten someone else’s trash.
Eventually, the dogs lose interest and wander off, and then it’s my turn to walk inside the shop. Lenny gets his four loaf of breads and whispers, “Good luck,” before he steps outside to wait for me at a distance.
“Good morning, Mr. Black, sir,” I say politely. “I’d like two loaves of bread, please.” I plunk down my ninety vlads and wait for him to count them.
“I’m sorry, Miss Bleiz, but this is only enough for one loaf of bread.” He doesn’t even count the money, just scoops it into his fat fist and drops it into his till as he gestures for his wife to hand me one loaf.
My eyes bug out of my head as I try to comprehend what’s happening. “What? No. I saved up for two days, Mr. Black. It’s enough for two.”
He shrugs and uses a fingernail to pick at his teeth. “That’s not what I counted, and no one else’s opinion matters. You want one loaf of bread, Asslee or not?”
I swallow hard, knowing if I don’t say yes, I’ll get nothing at all. It’s not fair. The Blacks rule this town, and the rest of us just have to do what they say. “Yes. Please.” I force out the words, even though it physically pains me to do so.
He chuckles under his breath, and I take the tiny loaf of bread from his wife’s chubby clutches. “I always win,” he says to my back. “Always.”
I stop in the doorway, the urge to turn around and scream at him again overwhelming, but I remember that I’ve turned over a new leaf. So I keep going. The dogs lick their chops, and I keep walking, wondering what the hell I’m going to do.
I have to find a way out of this place. Needing to stay to help my family is one thing, but I’ll be no good to anyone dead.
And I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how the Blacks want me.