Chapter One
~/*\~ Iyara ~/*\~
The road from Adam to Jericho wasn’t overly dangerous, but people usually traveled in groups, just to be safe. There were still animals, and bandits always looked for people walking the road alone.
The people making the trip were mostly known to Iyara, which made her feel better. For all her insistence that she was ‘old enough now’, this was her first journey away from home without her father holding her hand. If I lose this satchel, then a week of my family’s work will be for nothing. She shook her head quickly. None of that. You wanted to go, so put your chin up. You got your wish.
The hike was measured, with most people leading carts of goods, or carrying travel supplies and waterskins. Along the way, others joined them, from other towns and farmlands. Iyara avoided them, because she didn’t know them. Adam wasn’t a big enough population to have total strangers, even if she lived mostly in her own circle. For most of the cities of Canaan, it was a protection; knowing strangers on sight.
But there are plenty of cities and towns scattered about the land. Iyara thought. Nobody can know everyone.
~/*\~
When they reached Jericho, the gates were open. People were coming and going. There were soldiers walking the top of the walls, looking out over the fields, and the roads to the mountains. Some were looking in at the City. The guards at the Gate itself looked over the caravan, and waved them in absently. Nobody seemed overly concerned. The larger carts were searched.
The walls were thick, and higher than Iyara remembered from her last trip. She wondered if perhaps another layer had been built on top during her time away. She looked to the west side of the entrance, for the familiar landmark of Rahab’s window, but she couldn’t see it while right at the Gates.
“You there!”
Iyara froze. The satchel was taken from her before she fully noticed who it was. One of the Gate Guards had singled her out, and was searching her bag. “What’s this?”
“P-Papyrus scrolls, made in the City of Adam by my father.” Iyara said automatically. “My brother, Bodhir? He usually brings them here for sale.”
A second guard had joined them, and was looking her over, deciding he liked what he saw. “A young woman, travelling alone? That’s hard to picture. Is someone meeting you here?”
The first guard was still looking at her bag. “Bodhir?” He repeated the name. “That would make you Rahab’s sister?”
“I’m on my way there now.” Iyara stammered.
The second guard was still leering. “Really? Well, if that’s how it is…”
The first guard gave her back her bag. “I’ll escort you to her house, and see if she can verify your identity.” He said, partly to her, partly to the other guard, pushing him back a step. “We have more important things to deal with right now, don’t we?”
Feeling her heart give a thud, Iyara nodded, falling into step behind him. The other guard sighed, turning back to the caravan. Most of them had already passed through, not wanting to draw the attention of the authorities, just on principle. She would later realize two of the people who had joined their caravan were the first ones to slip past during her impromptu distraction.
~/*\~
The guard escorted her along the wall, this time on the inside, until they reached the stairwells. There was a ring of Buildings around the inside of the Wall, mostly storage or supplies, and racks of weapons, ready to use in the defence of the City, close to the walls.
She walked up the stairs, moving higher and getting a clearer view. The Marketplace was close to the Gates, as most of their supplies came from the outside. The Hall where the leaders lived and met was dead centre, with buildings all around it, extending out to the walls.
Iyara found she was smiling. The basic design within the walls wasn’t that different from any other town or freehold, including her own, but Jericho was larger, more prosperous. On the crossroads of all Canaan, plenty of people stayed here, while on the way to anywhere else.
Rahab’s home was large, for a single woman. Built into the top of the wall directly, it was likely meant once as a guard tower, or even a barracks for the Guard, but now was an Inn. Rahab owned it, both for her customers, and those who needed a place to stay when visiting.
The guard kept one hand around Iyara’s arm as they marched up to the door. There was a red cord hanging from a hook beside the door, looped over a few times; the bright crimson showing brightly against the stone of the walls. The guard saw it, and hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Iyara asked. “This is the place, right? She hasn’t moved since I was last here?”
The guard said nothing for a moment, before he stepped forward to knock. Before he got there, the door swung open, and a man stepped out. He froze when he saw the guard right in front of him. His worry changed when he saw Iyara, and turned into a knowing smile. “Afternoon, Farzin.”
“Afternoon.” The guard returned evenly. “Is Rahab in?”
“She is.” A familiar voice called from the next floor up, and Iyara glanced up above the door to see her sister looking down from a window above. “Farzin, I can’t help but notice you seem to have my sister under arrest. What’s she done?”
“I told them your real age.” Iyara retorted up at her, while the other man; who had just come out of the Inn, quietly made himself scarce.
“Oh, well; then by all means throw her over the side.” Rahab said lightly with a gesture at the wall’s edge, and she went back inside.
Iyara took a breath for what felt like the first time in ten minutes, and a moment later, Rahab appeared at her front door. “So. Does my sister look armed and dangerous?”
Farzin rolled his eyes at all this, releasing Iyara’s arm. “There are some new rules about checking for people coming into the city for the first time. Kayven was… interested. Make my day easier and say you can vouch for this one.”
“Not at all. She stole snacks from me when she was three, and never looked back.” Rahab said with a flirty smile. “She’s a menace. Take her away immediately.” Even as she said it, she pulled Iyara in for a hug. “Tell Kayven to keep his eyes in his head around her, or he’ll never get another drink in my place again.” Her head tilted. “Why the new rules?”
“I can’t say.”
“Ohh, come on.” Rahab drawled, a little enticing. “We both know that Inn’s like mine depend on people passing through town. Locals have their own homes.”
“I can’t tell you.” Farzin insisted.
Rahab sighed and gestured for Iyara to go inside. She did so. Behind her, she could hear her sister’s tone of voice changing. “You know why your guys are suspicious of women travelling alone? It’s not just because they’re all drooling little boys with no self-control. It’s because they know secrets get told in the dark. I know that as well as any-”
The door shut, and Iyara let out a sigh, looking around. Her sister’s Inn wasn’t large. Two or three bedrooms upstairs, with a common area below, and a small kitchen area. The downstairs level had windows with a view beyond the Walls. The upstairs windows would look out into the City.
Iyara glanced around. Rahab had no guests at the moment, though she couldn’t see in the bedrooms. She checked her satchel of papyrus. Somewhere in the market, a friend of her father’s would collect the bag, and give Iyara the family’s fee. He would then sell the papyrus on to the locals.
And Rahab probably made more in the last hour than the whole thing combined. Iyara thought, but she knew better than to say so aloud, even alone.
Rahab came back in, hesitated at the sight of her sister, then reached back out, pulling down the Red Cord that was hanging beside her front door. “So.” She said lightly to Iyara. “Welcome to Jericho.”
“I’m sorry to just show up like that.” She gestured at the Red Cord. “It was clear I interrupted something.”
“Your timing could have been much worse.” Rahab waved that off, eyes locking on the satchel. “You should wash up, pick a room. I’ll deliver that to Isidro for you.”
“It should be me.” Iyara said immediately. “It’s my first time making the delivery by myself.”
“It’s good that you want to take responsibility for this, but the guards are still leery about strangers. Besides, Isidro works the market as a side-business now. He runs a Tavern as his main income, and we have a working relationship. I bet I can get a better price.”
“Does father know about that?” Iyara was surprised to hear it.
“It’s a new development; independent of my father’s arrangement with him. Are you inclined to tell?” Rahab challenged, eyes bright.
“Not for a second.” Iyara replied dutifully.
Rahab nodded and slung the satchel over her shoulder. “Do me a favor, and change the bedding upstairs before I get back?”
~/*\~
Iyara did so, and by the time she was done, Rahab had returned with a bag of money, a small jug of wine, and a few incense candles, which she set to smouldering upstairs, giving her Inn a sweet scent.
Rahab poured for them both, and slid her sandals off with a relieved sigh. “So. Tell me what happened.”
Iyara rolled her eyes, unsurprised that she’d figured out why her sister had come. “We were gathering reeds for the Papyrus, and the conversation turned to… the future.”
“Always a favorite topic in our family.” Rahab said with wry sarcasm.
Iyara nodded and took a deep sip. “I mentioned the Temple was always hiring, and he suggested taking over his craftwork, and I mentioned that Bodhir already had that in hand, and that-”
Rahab took over mid-sentence. “And that being a Temple concubine paid better, and was more… connected to the influential people in town, since everyone wants to ‘show their fealty to the gods’, including the wealthiest people in town?”
“The Temple is practically the only place people like them can interact with people like me.” Iyara nodded. “Our father knows that. You’d think he’d be all for it. But he wants me to work for him forever.”
“Mm.” Rahab shook her head, pouring a little more into her cup. “Father wants you to work anywhere other than the Temples of Molech.”
“He still won’t give me a good reason why.” Iyara sighed, conceding that. “I knew what was going to happen next. It happens every time we have ‘the discussion’. I suggest working at the Temples; he says no. I ask why, and he refuses to elaborate. By the next day, he’d be trying to marry me off to someone before I could get a job for myself, and…”
“And you left town instead, before he could arrange an introduction.” Rahab nodded. “The ‘suitors’ he summons? You hate them so much?”
“Hatred I could handle.” Iyara flopped in her chair, the way she did as a child. “Even men I hated would provide some kind of spark; but the kind of men that dad finds ‘suitable’ are so… bland, it’s like they’re not even there. I could spend a whole day without noticing any of them in the room.”
Rahab scoffed. “Remember what I do for a living, dear. You think I only get handsome, exciting customers?”
“At least you get to send them away once you’re done with them.” Iyara returned. “Is that what growing up is all about? Accepting less and less out of life until you just don’t care anymore?”
Rahab frowned, giving her a knowing look. “You know, you’re getting to the age where you don’t really depend on him anymore. I know for a fact that you swiped a few of my outfits and perfumes last time you were here. At the time, I decided it was just how it goes between siblings, but now I’m wondering if it’s something else.”
Iyara bit her lip. “If it comes to that, I could slip away and become a Priestess in another City; even without his help. He knows it too. I would think he’d be more forgiving once I’m earning my own money. After all, Temple Priestesses get paid more in a week than he makes in a month.”
“And he said no anyway, so you came here.” Rahab summed up.
“I thought if our father could get a polite nudge from his favorite child-”
“I’m not the favorite.”
“Yes, you are; and we both know it.” Iyara insisted, unconcerned. “I thought if you could tell him to back off a bit and let me make a few choices for myself, then maybe it would help. Or at the very least, he would be alright with me staying with you for a while, see if there’s anything in Jericho that I could have a try at…”
And Rahab’s face changed. Her expression was not unlike their father’s. Iyara felt her heart sink at the sight of it. Rahab was going to send her home to father. “Or, I could… stay here for a while.” She changed tack. “Just a few days. I could help out around here; let tempers cool a bit.”
Rahab sighed. “Well. If you’re going to be here a while, we better get you unpacked, and settled in.”
“Assuming there’s any business.” Iyara quipped. “Just out of curiosity, were you telling the truth when you said that travellers are your usual customers?”
“I was.” Rahab nodded. “But he was telling the truth when he said they’re worried about new faces.” She gestured for Iyara to follow, and led the way upstairs, then walked out onto the terrace, and up a ladder to the rooftop. It was the very top of the Wall, and the surface felt oddly uneven under her sandals. Iyara put her arms out automatically in alarm, but her sister was unconcerned.
Rahab pointed. “There.”
Very carefully turning, Iyara looked. The Jordan, wide as it was, was barely visible from there. But Rahab was pointing at a column of smoke on the far side of the river. “A signal fire?”
Rahab shook her head. “It’s much further away than you think.”
Iyara looked again. “Then it’s a big fire.”
“That smoke follows the Hebrew camp during the day. When the sun goes down, it’s a whole different show.”
“Father says they’ve stopped there for some kind of mourning period.”
“That’s what I hear too.” Rahab nodded. “There are rumors that their new leader might decide to cross the River.”
Iyara shuddered. “They’ve never done that. Last time they came close, neither of us were born yet.”
“They’ve never been out there with a new leader. We go through the same thing every time the City leadership changes hands. What’s the fastest way for a new leader to show strength?”
“Find an enemy and kill it?” Iyara guessed.
“Right.” Rahab agreed. “So, we wait and see if they come this way. If they don’t, then life goes on.” She went back to the ladder. “Speaking of, I have errands to run.” She started to climb down. “And if you’re staying, so do you.”
~/*\~
Most of the work was like home, working the flour into bread, cleaning the ashes from the oven, hauling jugs of water from the local wells. They’d both spent their lives doing such things. But Rahab ran an Inn, which meant they had to have enough fresh water for the maximum number of customers, even if there weren’t any there right now.
Rahab’s Inn was on the Wall, which meant all the usual tasks included a long hike up the stairs. They were both in fine shape, but Iyara had been hauling water jugs upstairs all morning, while Rahab tended to her guests. When they left, heading out the Gates, she had plates and cups to wash clean, and that meant hauling even more water.
“Don’t you have people for this?” Iyara asked. “I mean, I know your usual clients are people travelling, but surely there’s one sturdy young man in this town that would do anything you ask.”
“At least four, just waiting to hear from me.” Rahab nodded. “But they’d expect ‘payment’ too. You showed up without warning, but at least you’re free.”
Iyara rolled her eyes. “What next?”
“I have an order of Flax waiting.”
~/*\~
(Author’s Note: The Insight book describes the processing of Flax: ‘After the seedpods had been removed, the stalks of flax were completely submerged in water and weighted down with stones to prevent them from floating. As the flax soaked in water, the woody part rotted, freeing the fibers. After the exterior part, or rind, of the stalks became loose, the stalks were taken out of the water and were repeatedly turned over in the sun until completely dry. The flax was thereafter beaten with mallets on stone slabs, and the fibers were separated and cleansed by combing.’
That entry also states that ‘drying’ was likely the reason there was flax laid on Rahab’s Rooftop.)
The sacks of Flax stalks were ready for drying, which meant they had been soaked through completely. The textiles workers had filled sacks for Rahab and Iyara, and they were so waterlogged that it took two people to get them up on Iyara’s shoulders.
“Why do you need so much?” Iyara complained, almost bent double under the size of the sacks.
“My rooftop is a good spot for drying it out.” Rahab explained, carrying an equal pair of sacks, one on each shoulder. “Everywhere else in town is either in the shadow of the walls, or out in the open, unguarded. I lay it out across my rooftop, it dries faster than anywhere else. I get to keep some of the Flax, no charge.”
“Can I help you with those?” A young man asked with a good natured leer. “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be doing such hard labor.”
“Go home, kid.” Rahab scoffed, good natured. “Your mother is willing to pay me not to let you into my Inn.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” The teenager called hopefully after them.
~/*\~
“If you didn’t want to, I could.” Iyara offered. “We both know I’m going to start somewhere. Why not him? If nothing else, I could get him to carry these sacks first.”
Rahab gave her a look that made her flinch. “You’d sell yourself so cheaply, dearest?”
Iyara didn’t know what to say to that, and decided to save her breath for the hike up the stairs at the Wall.
The sacks were heavy, and Iyara had already made a long journey. Rahab called a break once they’d carried the Flax as far as her house, dumping the sacks just inside the door.
“How can you hike those stairs every day?” Iyara demanded.
“Plenty of practice.” Rahab told her primly. “Still, you look exhausted. Let’s get some lunch.”
~/*\~ Cherry ~/*\~
Cherry stopped by the grocer on her way to work. Her backpack only had enough room for a few jars of spreadables, and a can of soup. Her favorite brand of soup wasn’t there, for the second week running. There was a little sign on the shelf saying there were supply problems. The jars would stay in her backpack until she finished her double-shift, but they weren’t perishable; so that was fine.
Then she noticed the prices on her usual groceries had jumped. Normally she indulged in some fresh fruit, and ate it on the way to work. No such luck today.
The Diner was attached to a service station, which was open all night. Overnight, the Diner side of the building was dark, and the chairs were stacked on the tables. The other end was the fuel station, where they collected the money, and served roadhouse-style coffee and the mass produced fast food that always tasted a week old. The racks of candy and cigarettes sold around the clock, as people stopped for fuel. The Diner staff knew the real money was in filling car fuel tanks, but there was enough demand to keep a few workers employed.
Cherry took the afternoon-late shift today, which meant she’d be there until midnight. Long after the baristas had given up. Long after her boss had gone home. There were only five tables to manage, plus the counter. They served real coffee, and the usual Diner menu. For people on the road, it was a blessing. This close to the city, they didn’t have much in the way of highway traffic, but it was a convenience to the area.
The Diner half of the station opened early enough that people coming off their own night shifts could get breakfast. In fact, her first customers were usually the cashiers at the fuel station side of the building. They clocked off and came over to collapse at her counter. She knew their coffee orders by heart now.
Eugene waved her over to the cash register. “You’re late.”
“I’m not.” She retorted.
“No, but I like to keep you on your toes.” Eugene commented dryly. “Push the key-lime pie today. The peach cobbler is… well, unavailable. Our supplier couldn’t fill his quota.”
Cherry nodded, and took down the chalkboard menu, rubbing out that line. Such changes happened every day, to follow the availability of ingredients. It was how a Diner kept its profit margin.
~/*\~
Her feet were aching by lunchtime. At least three customers complained about the food, which she had nothing to do with preparing. Four different customers had conversations on their phones the entire time they were there, but had the phones on speaker, so the whole room heard both sides of the conversations shouting to be heard over ambient noise. The mothers doing errands came in with children below school age, and the kids screeched bloody murder over every single thing they noticed. One or two people with bags under their eyes searched the menu for the cheapest nourishment they could order, and counted their smallest coins out, hoping to have enough.
All in all, a normal day.
Around late morning, a quartet of people came in and sat at a table. They were immediately recognizable as different from the usual crowd. Their clothing was more formal, like they were lawyers. But their mannerisms were the total opposite. They all sat, with big smiles. Whatever they were talking about, it was making them laugh. Hauled along behind them was a wheeled cart, which they set upright beside their table, facing outward at the room. The cart was full of magazines, brochures, pamphlets; all with variations on the same message: What The Bible Says About The Future.
Cherry turned her head slightly, keeping her gaze away from them. She didn’t know any of them personally, but she recognized the ‘uniform’ as soon as they walked in. There were enough customers that she didn’t have to go over to their table. One of them brought their order to Eugene at the counter, and took the food and drink back to the Table for everyone.
They only stayed for fifteen minutes or so, and then headed back out.
Cherry collected their cups and saucers, once they were gone. They’d left a tip, along with one of their pamphlets. How Do You Feel About The Future?
She took the pamphlet, and slipped it into her pocket. She wouldn’t read it, but she never really threw them out. As she always did when the Witnesses left, she felt a certain edge of guilt eating away at her. But she put it out of her mind. It would pass. It always did.
~/*\~
Cherry had picked up a double shift, and so was there when the place was ready to close. She ran a quick broom over the floor, and locked up the janitor’s closet when she was done. Gail was at the counter when she returned. Cherry did a double-take, surprised to see her there at this time of night. “Hey.”
Gail bobbed her head. “Hey. I just came from the Tenant’s meeting.”
“And?”
“Well, they suggested we all protest by refusing to pay our new rates; but that only works if we all agree to it.”
“They jacked the rent up enough that I won’t be able to pay it. I don’t mind calling it a protest.” Cherry scoffed. “If any of us could afford to pay a higher rent, we wouldn’t be living there.”
“That’s the consensus, yes.” Gail said blandly. “But the only way to make the rates come down is to get a lawyer involved. And if we can’t afford rent, we sure can’t afford that. Mister Lennox, on the top floor? He’s trying to get the Press to take an interest, drum up some public opinion.”
“Oh, sure. I can hear the crusaders coming to rescue us. We’re one step up from a slum.”
“Didn’t you hear? The slums have been gentrified.” Gail teased. “Our street has been demoted from the ‘second-worst’, to ‘wrong side of the tracks’.”
Cherry scoffed and checked the clock. “I gotta close up the Diner. My last step is to toss the old donuts and pie in the trash. You want to wait five minutes and rescue them?”
Gail nodded. “I’ll walk back with you.”
~/*\~
Soon after, Cherry locked up the Diner, heading out to the dumpster. Gail was waiting for her there. So was a shabbily dressed man with greasy hair. Gail was watching the homeless man carefully out of the corner of her eye.
Cherry had a paper bag, filled with some of the food that needed to be discarded. She handed it to the homeless man. “Here you go, Orlo.” She said softly, holding out her coffee cup with the other hand. “Milk, one sugar, right?”
Orlo took the bag, and the cup gratefully. “Thanks, Cherry. Does Eugene know you’re doing this?”
“He went home hours ago. If anyone asks, I made myself the coffee.”
Orlo nodded, and moved on, sipping at his drink.
Gail said nothing, until they were on their way home. “He hangs out here often, huh?”
“We’re all one bad week away from being just like him.” Cherry said evenly, and pulled out a tupperware box from her backpack. “I fit all the pie I could into here. Unlike the donuts and such, this has to be refrigerated. Let’s get it home quickly, huh?”
Gail agreed, and the two started walking. She had her house-keys in hand already, the longest key extended between her knuckles for protection, just in case. One of the myriad of little gestures people made to feel a little safer in the dark.
“So, real talk for a second.” Cherry said as they walked. “Even if everyone in the building can convince some pro-bono legal aid office to take our landlord to court, and get our rent dropped back to normal, it’ll still take weeks. Maybe months. And we’ll have to cover our new costs all that time. I don’t think I can afford it. How about you?”
“I work part time as a tobacconist. It’s not like I was living comfortably before.” Gail offered. “You got another option?”
“I could move back in with my parents, but I really don’t want to do that.” Cherry admitted. “I’ve had roommates before, but I don’t exactly have room in my one bedroom place… And if I move in somewhere else; I can’t keep working at the Diner. The location was the only redeeming feature of the shoebox I’m living in right now.”
“I can say the same.” Gail agreed, looking her up and down. “You’re… what? A size six? Maybe seven?”
Cherry blinked. “Why?”
“Well, I do have one idea.” Gail admitted. “Move in with me. Between us, we can cover the rent, and come out ahead.”
“There isn’t enough room.”
“Not for our stuff, but just enough for us. We combine our wardrobes and our foodstuffs. We sell half our junk… Our work hours are different, so it’s kind of like a timeshare flat that way.”
Cherry thought about it. “Bedroom?”
“One bed, and the room isn’t big enough for two singles, unless you’ve got a bunk bed.” Gail admitted. “But the couch is big enough. I’ve crashed on it enough times. We could alternate nights.”
Cherry thought about it as they walked. She’d known Gail for a long time, but not that deeply. They’d traded leftovers back and forth, as a way to save on their food expenses. Most of the building did that. They’d made enough conversation that Cherry would consider them casual friends…
What’s the alternative? She thought, and she couldn’t really think of one.
“Well. Better you than Mister Lennox upstairs.” Cherry said finally.
Gail laughed. “Come on. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
~/*\~
Moving Cherry in with Gail was as simple as packing a box, taking it across to the other apartment, unpacking it, and then doing it again. Neither of them had enough money for excess furniture or belongings. Their combined clothes could fit in one wardrobe.
The sleeping arrangements had been the hardest part, each of them agreeing to take the bedroom on alternate nights.
“It’s not so bad.” Cherry tried to put the best face on it. “In Japan, a whole family would lay out a mattress on the floor, share it until morning, and then roll the mattress up. Some parts of the world don’t even have that. Sleeping on a couch is better than Orlo has.”
“Agreed.” Gail nodded. “And you’re already better than my last roommate. She was… musical.”
“Musical as in ‘singing too loud in the shower’?”
“Musical, as in ‘I’ve just bought this violin, and I need to practise at all possible times, day and night’.” Gail suppressed a shudder at the memory.
~/*\~
Very quickly, it turned out to be a positive routine. With their rent covered, they had more to spend on food, which was getting more expensive by the day. And Gail’s prediction about their work hours was correct. They saw little of each other during the day. Gail worked regular business hours, and Cherry worked on rotating shifts; which meant she was glad to have the apartment to herself for a few hours.
The evenings were spent together. Neither of them had any loud or obnoxious habits, both of them wore headphones while they played their music. Most of their contentions were about what to watch on television in the evenings, and then they had to sell that too; and watched things on their devices.
Cherry made a determined effort to keep things casual with her new roommate. With nowhere else to go, she couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Gail. She could tell that Gail was making an effort too. The bedroom was always tidier after Gail left it to her on alternate nights. Cherry kept the dishes washed and had breakfast waiting when she slept in the living area, which was also their kitchen.
The building around them was trying to handle the change too. Petitions had been passed around the building. Some of the tenants were trying to organize legal action. There were constant arguments over money, audible through the whole building.
But it was all happening in slow motion. Time seemed to fly by, but nothing ever seemed to change.
“You can’t get traction on any of this.” Gail complained one night as they scanned the news. “We get all the justice and fairness we can afford in this world.” She sighed. “I remember reading about the early days in this city, when the crooks were running the docks, and putting the scare into shopkeepers. Back there and back then, the whole town got together, grabbed blunt objects and drove the gangs out. Can’t do that these days. Even the cops don’t do that these days.”
“Mm.” Cherry put her device away; glad to be done with the nightly news. “Gangs and criminals aren’t the problem for us. All our injustice is perfectly legal.”
Gail was about to say something when there was a rapid knock on the door. Cherry was closer, so she checked the chain, and peeked through the peephole. “Aw, no.” She breathed.
“Neighbor?” Gail lowered her voice to avoid being heard outside their thin walls.
“My Ex.” Cherry sighed.
“I know you’re in there.” He called through the door. “I can see your shadow blocking the peephole.”
Cherry sighed, and opened the door the length of the chain. “Hey. How’d you know I was here now?”
Jamel gestured back at her old apartment. “You only moved eight feet. Your name is still on the mailbox downstairs.” He smiled at her. “So. Hi. It’s… it’s good to see you. Can I come in?”
Gail, standing behind the door, read Cherry’s posture and shouted from behind her. “No, he can’t!”
Jamel jumped. “Who’s that?”
“My new roommate. They jacked up the rent, so I have to share. She’s kinda touchy about people walking in without prior notice.” Cherry excused. “So, what do you need?”
“Who says I need anything?” Jamel said brightly, talking to her through the gap in the door, completely at ease in the awkward setting, as though they were at dinner together. “Naw, I just wanted to see you. I’ve been taking some night school courses. With my job too, it means I haven’t slept in six months, but I need the qualification.”
“Your electrician license." Cherry smiled, despite herself. “You’re back on that?”
“If I get the licence; I can work anywhere.” Jamel nodded. “I’m one week away, and I was hoping we could celebrate. Dinner? Dancing? The sky is the limit up to…” He made a show of reaching for his wallet. Then he patted his pockets. “Oh. I guess I left my wallet at home, but if you could float me a loan, the sky would be the limit up to-”
“Fifty dollars.” Cherry said it for him, and slumped. “You’re using again.”
“What?!” Jamel seemed shocked. “Of course not. I would never go back to that. For one thing, I can’t afford it.”
“Babe, I remember every minute of those days. Something you can’t say for yourself.” Cherry said, face hard. “I remember what it was like when you lived your whole @%^&! life fifty dollars at a time.”
Jamel’s smile dropped. “Look, I’m telling the truth about… well, everything else. One more week, and I have the qualifications. I can get my licence, pay you back triple. I just… I gotta get through this week without losing it. I can’t be jonesing this week.”
“You already are.” She accused. “Look at you. You can barely hold your hands still.”
“Right. I just…” Jamel was shaking, his casual nature gone, getting desperate. “I gotta come down slowly, ease my way through this week. You know I can do it. I’ve done it before. I just need a little loan-”
“I-I can’t...” Cherry told him, eyes tearing up.
“Babe-”
Gail was suddenly there, pushing Cherry out of the way, and aiming a can of pepper-spray through the gap in the door. “She said no. Beat it, or you can go through withdrawal, and be blinded at the same time. Start walkin’!”
Jamel jumped back automatically, and Gail slammed the door shut. “You got to the count of one before I call a cop.” She called through the door. “They will test to see what you’re using!”
“He’s already running.” Cherry assured her, shaking a little. “He’s harmless. Just… desperate.”
Long silence.
“So. Gangs and crooks aren’t a problem for us, huh?” Gail said lightly.
“He’s not a criminal. Not exactly.” Cherry was still at the door, leaning her forehead against it. “He’s my ex. There was a time I wanted to marry him.”
“Even with the…” Gail waved a hand. “Y’know.”
“Yeah. Even with… all that. It wasn’t bad then. Just fun.” Cherry admitted. “I really did try to help him, y’know. We weren’t together then, but I still…” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“You still see the guy you fell in love with.” Gail nodded. “I get that. Some exes just have you ‘on the hook’ that way. You look at them, and see 90% of what you wanted, and you think you can save him, if you just give him more of yourself.” Gail squeezed her shoulder. “We’ve all been there.” The arm squeeze turned into a tight hug. “That’s when you really need your friends to keep you on track.”
Cherry sniffed a little, relaxing into the hug. It lasted for a while before they parted, and went back to their respective seats in the small living room. It’s the first time she’s openly referred to us as ‘friends’ rather than ‘roommates.’ Cherry thought after she got her head back together. I should do something nice for her in return. “Oh.” She said as though she’d just thought of it. “I forgot to tell you: We’re out of that vanilla coffee you like. I’ll pick some up tomorrow.”
“I tried this afternoon. No such luck.” Gail waved her off. “The supplier has apparently closed down, or missed their quota, or something.”
“Then I’ll bring some from the Diner.” Cherry grinned. “You drink more of it in a week than any of our customers do in a month, so I doubt the boss will notice a packet or two.”
Gail smiled, and Cherry felt better. Having friends made everything better.
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