“I know. That’s fine. Just thought I’d ask,” I said, though I was far from OK. Working at the shelter and getting paid for it was my master plan, the first step toward pulling my life around. And here I was, falling at the first bloody hurdle. “I’ll go into town and see if I can find anyone hiring.”
I turned to leave but she called out to me. “Actually, wait!”
“Yes?” I said, brightening.
“Try the new café that’s just opened up. The little boutique. You’ll know it when you see it, all done up fancy. I heard they’re looking for someone. And feel free to give my name as a reference.”
“Thanks, Dianne. I appreciate it.”
I said my goodbyes, took a quick tour to view the new kittens, then left, feeling like maybe there was hope for me yet.
7
Sara
I was dreaming.
I knew it the moment it started, but I was unable to pull myself out from under the spell. A cloud of fog cleared a path in front of me, and I blinked through my blurry eyes. I tried to make sense of my surroundings, of the black emptiness that seemed to dominate the room. My ears pricked up. A faint voice called my name. It was close, but I couldn’t see the owner. Scared, my feet locked together, unable to move.
The fog transformed into a pitch-black mist that swirled around me, making it almost impossible to figure out where the sound was coming from. My palms were damp.
“Sara.”
I turned my head towards the sound, spinning; he was close, but I saw nothing.
“Sara.” There it was again. The thudding in my chest picked up speed. He was going to hurt me. But I wouldn’t let him touch me like that ever again. I thrashed my head around as the voice continued to plague me.
All of sudden my limbs were no longer within my control. My wrists were pinned by an invisible force, and I felt hot breath against my neck. Eric’s cologne, thick and overpowering, raped my senses.
He was going to hurt me again, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I wasn’t strong enough. But then another voice joined the chorus, this one encouraging me to fight, to not give up.
Harvey?
I gritted my teeth and pulled at the non-existent restraints. To my surprise my arms flew apart. My mouth parted in shock. I tried to take a deep breath and nothing came, but this was my chance. I turned on my heel and started to run, my legs pumping wildly into the abyss.
With a jolt, I awoke. My body shook with spasms, and I was gasping for air. I sat up and buried my head between my knees, drawing in breath, telling myself I was OK.
The sound of my alarm on the bedside table cut through the panic, bringing me back to the real world. I turned it off and waited till my breathing returned to normal before getting up on shaky legs and going to the bathroom.
I walked over to the mirror above the sink and gazed at my reflection. Dark circles outlined my tired green eyes, but at least my face had lost a bit of its chubbiness, a diet of air and desperation filling my belly instead. I stepped away and took a hot shower. Soaking in the scalding water, feeling it cascading down my bare back, washing away the last traces of the haunting dream.
Afterwards, I threw on a decent pair of black trousers, grabbed my uniform blouse from the closet and slipped it on. I was a part of the working masses after managing to win over the owner of the new café. And today was my first day. In the car I turned the heater up full blast and made my way through the quiet snow-covered streets to the coffee shop. I stepped inside as a tiny bell above the door announced my arrival, and I closed my eyes to revel in the warm scent of coffee.
There was no one manning the bespoke counter, and I grabbed a chair to wait. There were no customers yet to speak of, but I knew from my first visit it would get busy soon enough. I examined the chestnut-brown walls that gave the interior a soothing, welcoming feeling. Little artificial plants were dotted around for extra colour. I studied the location of each section, noting the placement of the tables. I wasn’t sure I’d be waitressing as well as serving, but it didn’t do any harm to get the lay of the land.
A silhouette passed behind a curtain at the back of the store, and a woman in her late fifties greeted me, enveloping my fingers in her chubby ones as I stood to greet her.
“You must be Sara Chambers,” her voice came out as a hoarse whisper.
“Yes,” I answered.
The older woman smiled and said, “I’m Jodie-Ann, but you can call me Jo. I think you met my husband the other day?”
I smiled back. “That’s right. I hope I still have the job?”
“Oh, yes, dear. Don’t worry about that.” She beckoned me toward the curtain, and I followed her deep into the storage room.
“Well, there’s no time like the present. Let’s get you started. Everything you’ll need will mostly likely be in here, and if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you how to work the machines. They can be a bit finicky, but you’ll get the hang of it. You just gotta show ‘em who’s boss.”
I nodded and watched as she took me through each procedure, pointing out the functions of the machines as she went. It was fascinating to see her wrinkly fingers settle on each mechanism, light but firm, twisting and turning here and there and making an awful lot of noise in the process. I nodded my head as we went along, showing my understanding.
“Did you get all that?” Jo asked, cutting through my reverie.
“I think so, yes.” I answered, though I cursed myself for not bringing a notebook and pen to write it all down.
No sooner had Jo finished showing me how the other appliances behind the counter worked, that customers started to stream in. I stood anxiously, waiting to take their orders and praying I didn’t screw up the only job I could get.
“This is harder than I thought,” I said a few hours later, after the lunch rush. I flopped down on a chair, my arms resting on the table’s surface as I buried my head into them. My feet protested the hours of standing up, screaming for me to stop, and my back ached.
“And it’s just your first day,” Jo said, her voice croaky as she laughed at me and patted my back sympathetically. “But you’ll get used to it.”
I groaned inwardly as beads of sweat trickled down my forehead.
“Sara?”
I looked up and saw Harvey striding towards me. “Thought that was you.” His steps were quick and efficient, his long legs clad in a blue pinstripe. His hair was wet, slicked back, but it hadn’t been raining, and I wondered where he’d been. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d just come from a woman’s apartment, his hair wet from a shower he’d had to take to get the smell of sex off him.
“Harvey,” I said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he said, staring at my black and white uniform.
“I got a job, what does it look like?” I said, the edges of a smile making an appearance on my face. It was good to see him again; I hated how much of a bitch I’d been the last time we spoke. He’d only been trying to help. “Gotta make ends meet.”
I tried to make light of the situation, to reassure him that I was doing OK, but his questioning eyes had the undesired of effect of making me think twice about trying to fool him.
He frowned at me. “But what about your work at the animal shelter? You loved it there didn’t you?”