Violet Grenade(14)

A thunderous sound rocks the house, and the girl who spoke rolls her eyes. "They all want to check you out." She leans in close and makes a crazy face. "Show no fear."




       
         
       
        
I smile in spite of myself.

Two new girls appear in the front sitting room. It isn't a large area, and already the floral papered walls seem to close in. Both girls have dark skin and light eyes. They could be sisters, but I don't think they are. Over their hearts are white silk daisies.

"The others are still asleep," one of the new girls says to Ms. Karina, eyes never straying from my green wig. "Nice hair."

"It's a wig," I say.

"No shit." The girl grins. Her teeth are immaculately white against full lips. She is beautiful. The other girls are, too. Actually, beautiful isn't the right word. They're more interesting, some with oversized eyes, or sweet freckles, or hair that tickles apple-bottom rears. These aren't the girls you ask, do I know you from somewhere? Because one look says you haven't seen a person exactly like this before.

"She dumb?" the same girl asks Ms. Karina.

Detroit Domino might have put this girl in her place, but that Domino had Dizzy waiting at home and Greg a few blocks away. So I say nothing.

The woman drops into a chair and waves a hand toward her own face, trying to cool down. "Go and turn on the air, Jezebel. And if you say anything else you'll be cleaning toilets for a month."

Jezebel bumps her shoulder into the girl she came down the stairs with. "Come on, let's go bother Cain."

As they leave, another four girls enter through the small space. They wear yellow tulips and don't say much. They just run their gaze over my body and head toward the kitchen. I can already smell the bacon frying, and my stomach clenches in excitement.

Everyone leaves the room, giggling and singing their playground song once again.

Ms. Karina sighs. "Run along and get some breakfast. One of the Carnations will show you to your room after you eat."

I don't know what she means, but I know exactly where the food is coming from, so I follow the smell. There's a short hallway that connects to the front entry room. I'm halfway down it, following the tune of pans and utensils clashing, when someone cuts off my path.

He's round and sweaty and has the shortest neck of any human I've ever seen. Dark hair sticks against his forehead, and when he sees me, he grins.

"Well, what do we have here? A little rabbit." He's breathing hard. It sounds like he was outside running sprints, but I find that doubtful.

I tense, and he approaches.

Huff, puff.

Grin.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Leave her alone, Mr. Hodge," Ms. Karina calls from the entry room. "She's only just arrived."

The smirk leaves his face. He lifts a finger, thick as a serpent, and jabs it into the middle of my chest. "I hope you aren't lazy. Because if you are, you'll answer to me." 

I brush past him, and he chuckles.

"Your first shift's tonight, new girl," he says as I move away.

I spill into the breakfast room, my pulse ringing. Mr. Hodge is someone I want to stay away from. Ten seconds with him. That's all it took to know this.

The kitchen is sunny, and there are multicolored Christmas lights strung across the ceiling. Several of the girls are already seated at two long tables. When one of them sees me, she shoots up from her chair.

"Is this her?" she squeals.

"That's her," someone answers.

The first girl races toward me, and I think she's going to-

She throws her arms around me and hugs me close. "Now I'm not the new girl anymore. You saved me. You saved me! My name's Poppet. You can call me Poppet. I'm a Carnation, obviously, but some of the other girls are Daisies and Tulips. The Lilies and Violets live in the guesthouses out back and they eat later, but we can-"

"Take a breath, Poppet," someone says, shaking her head. "Good God."

There's a bar separating the seating area from the kitchen. Cain rounds the counter and appears with a plate in his hand. He lifts it slightly and then places it down at an empty spot next to Poppet's seat. Cain doesn't look at me. He doesn't look at anyone. He only heads back to the kitchen, a Teflon spatula in one hand, and keeps his mouth shut.

"See?" Poppet says with a bounce. "Even Cain thinks we should be friends. That's like the most interaction he's had with anyone all year."

"Serial killers don't speak much, isn't that right, Cain?" one of the Daisies jeers.

Poppet frowns. "I wasn't being mean. It's good that Cain is communicating." Poppet leans toward the back of the kitchen. "I wasn't being mean, Cain. Honest."