Violet Grenade(57)

Maybe my favorite color isn't yellow.

Maybe I don't like cinnamon in my coffee as much as I think.

Maybe my parents didn't turn me into an animal that stalks the world, rabid.

I didn't tell Jack about my family. That's one gunshot wound I wouldn't recover from, so why talk about it?

Today is market day, just past lunch on a Sunday, and I'm headed outside and toward the east guesthouse. I want to talk to Lola about what Madam Karina said. There's been little time for that before now. Work to do, coins to earn, chores to complete. But not today.

I wait in the plastic chair out back and watch her territory. I know better than to approach the house, but I also know she'll come out sooner or later. To buy a bomber jacket she'll never wear in this west Texas heat, or a package of popsicles to crunch on, or a paperback romance novel to chase away the godforsaken, ever-present boredom.

It doesn't take long before she appears, but already sweat slides down my temples. Lola swishes toward me, walking on the tips of her toes like she does, and plops down in the second chair. She's wearing oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses and plum-colored lip gloss. A bittersweet scent reaches my nose. It reminds me of the smell I picked up in Madam Karina's room the night she accused me of trying to leave.

Lola pulls her dark hair into a ponytail. "Saw you from the window. You waiting on that boy?"



       
         
       
        

"I was waiting on you."

She laughs. "Get in line, baby."

"Why are you trying to help me?"

She sobers. "Who says I'm doing any such thing?"

"Are you trying to leave the home?"

Her head whips toward me. "Who said that?"

"Madam Karina."

Lola swears under her breath.

"Are you?"

"That's enough questions, Daisy."

My chest swells though I'm not sure why. "I'm not a Daisy anymore."

Lola raises an eyebrow. "Already?"

"Starting tomorrow."

Silence hangs between us, and Lola sticks her thumb into her mouth. Sucks on it and then pulls it from between her lips with a pop. "I can't stand being here any longer. Might as well tell you, since she already knows."

"Where will you go?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. You just keep the madam happy so I can slip away, understand?"

"Why don't you tell her you're leaving?" I ask. "Don't you have to apply to withdraw your money?"

Lola laughs at this. "Listen, Domino, you're the kind of girl who will stay here until you're dismissed by the madam. Then you'll live in some trailer park and do her bidding until she says you're ready to die. And you know what? That's a better life than you would've had elsewhere. But I've got big plans, and they don't involve staying here."

Anger coils in my belly. "Don't pretend you know me."

"That's the thing. I do know you. Now, will you be a good puppet and keep the madam's attention so I can blow this joint?"

I stare at her, disgusted that she expects me to help her after the insults she's hurled. But then her face softens, and I see the fear in her gaze. She's afraid I'll say no. Afraid she'll be stuck here and those dreams of hers will dead-end. I don't like Lola but, just like Madam Karina, she has a way of tugging what she wants out of you. Plus, I'm still hopeful that if I play by Madam Karina's rules and earn money the way she wishes, I can chase a dream of my own.

Four walls.

A strong roof.

A soft bed that is mine.

Safety.

"You imply that it's hard to leave this place." I say this almost as a question. And part of me is afraid of her response. In order for me to continue here, I need to know that at the end, my goal is reachable. After Madam Karina's outburst, I'm not sure I can trust that.

Lola hesitates. "It's not that you can't leave with a pocketful of cash. It's just that Madam Karina is very persuasive." 

Persuasive. I can deal with persuasive.

Can you? Wilson whispers.

"I'll keep her watching me, Lola." I stand and run my eyes over her frame. Then, to return the grace she's shown, I add, "Shouldn't be too difficult considering my competition."

She smiles. "Bitch."

I smile, too. "Trash."

Lola offers her hand.

"Weren't you just sucking your thumb?" I ask.

She shrugs.

I stick my own thumb in my mouth and pop it out. Then I offer her my hand.

She shakes it.

I walk toward the house, and behind me Lola says with a chuckle, "Look what we have here, ladies and gentlemen. The future Top Girl of Madam Karina's House for Burgeoning Entertainers."