Chapter Ten
Assignments
Ms. Karina answers very few of my questions, and instead shuffles me back down the stairs when Mr. Hodge says she has a phone call.
“Anything you want to ask me, you can ask them,” she says outside my new room. Then she turns and clicks down the hallway.
Candy inspects my sheets and purses her lips. Poppet, however, offers to help put them on. “After this we’ll go see Mercy.”
I pull the sheet across the blue and white pinstriped mattress and glance around. Poppet and Candy’s room is a blinding shade of white with posters of actors and musicians strewn across the walls. Above Poppet’s bed is Taylor Swift in a sequined dress, one hand clutching a microphone, the other waving toward the crowd. And over Candy’s bed is Channing Tatum, a heart drawn over his chest with Michelle written in the center. Many of the posters curl at the corners, in desperate need of fresh tape.
The only other furniture besides our beds is a small vanity and a single dresser. Poppet notices me eyeing the dresser and says. “You’ll get the bottom drawer. Cain already put your things in.”
I leave the bed and open the drawer. When I see my wigs, makeup, jewelry, and most importantly, Dizzy’s shirt, I smile with relief. I’d almost forgotten about my belongings. But now they wink up at me, reminding me why I’m here.
Candy leaves the room and, when Poppet’s back is turned, I slip the sixty-four dollars and change from my pocket—minus the fifty cents it took to call Ms. Karina—into the back of the dresser. Once I’m satisfied that it’s hidden, I close my drawer and turn to Poppet. “Can I ask you a question?”
She glows. “Shoot.”
“How do we get paid? I mean, what kinds of jobs are available? And when do we get the money?”
The girl pulls her blond hair into a half pony and then removes her nightshirt. Pink nipples the size of silver dollars stand at attention. I blush until she shrugs on a white tank and black Victoria’s Secret sweat shorts. “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through that tonight. Or maybe Madam Karina will.” She claps her hands with excitement. “You’re going to love it here, Domino. It’s so much fun. Well, the days aren’t that fun, but the nights make up for it. Right now, though, we have to get our assignments or we’ll be docked. Oh, and you can’t wear that. Borrow something of mine until you can get things of your own.”
This girl’s all right, Wilson decides. I approve.
Poppet finally pauses in talking, opens the middle dresser drawer, and pulls out a plain black V-neck.
“Why do you keep calling Ms. Karina Madam?” I ask as she hands me a shirt. “And do we get paid for these assignments?”
She laughs her broken glass laugh, and I decide broken glass laughs aren’t so bad. “It’s just a term of endearment. All the girls use it. And, no, we do our jobs to keep things nice around here.”
When I try to hand the shirt back, insisting I have one, she shoves it into my chest. “I saw what Cain brought in. No offense, but you need something clean. Mr. Hodge will get upset if he sees you out of sorts.” She waves toward the stained gray shirt I came here in. It’s the best one I’ve got. The one I wore to try and spring Dizzy from jail. “Come on, we gotta go.”
I tear the thing off and stand exposed in my pale yellow bra, the one with wiring that digs into the underside of my left breast, and replace it with Poppet’s shirt. It’s loose. Not because Poppet is bigger than me, though she is—everyone is bigger than me—but because her chest is three sizes larger than mine. It reminds me of that movie, How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say, her small breasts grew three sizes that day!
I reopen my bottom drawer and pull off my green wig. Grab my orange one instead. Poppet’s mouth opens in a circle of black when she sees my real hair matted to my head.
“Your natural color is pretty.” Poppet twists side to side like she’s three instead of sixteen, or however old she is.
I ignore the comment and bounce on the balls of my feet like I’m ready to go. She takes my cue, and we find the other girls. Mercy, our Point, yells for us to move our rears when she sees us. We jog over as I count the girls. There are ten of us, nine wearing Carnations, one with an orange wig and soft black V-neck that makes me feel like I’m being hugged.
Mercy calls out assignments, which are more or less chores, to the others before looking at Poppet and me. “You two. You’re on bathrooms. Next time don’t be late or you’ll be sleeping outside.” She pushes black bangs out of her eyes. There’s a scar on her forehead. “New girl, if you finish early you’ll help the others with their assignments. And if I see your freak ass slacking for one second I’ll deduct a week’s pay.”
All eyes turn to me, and heat creeps up my neck. “I won’t slack.”
Mercy sighs. “My God, don’t even open your mouth. Just shut up and work. That’s it.”
I nod.
“Don’t nod at me, either.”
My teeth snap together as a couple of girls laugh. Mercy is singling me out to prove a point. I wonder how she got to be the Carnations’ Point Girl.
And whether someone else wouldn’t be a better one.
We would be better, Wilson whispers.
I clean beside Poppet for hours and then help scrub the floors. Every few minutes Mercy barks at me to work harder, leaving muddied footprints in her wake. The girls glare at me with disdain as if it’s my fault Mercy is targeting me.
We’re almost finished with the floors when Raquel glides over. She has short brunette hair and a long neck. Raquel smirks at me before kicking over the bucket of dirty water. It sloshes over my knees, soaking my jeans. I jump to my feet, fists curled, breathing hard through flared nostrils.
“You’d better keep Mercy off my back, new girl.” Raquel turns to leave.
I imagine grabbing her by the hair and taking her to the ground. But I shake the thought from my head. This is exactly what Wilson would want, and I have to keep him quiet at all costs. So I bite my lip, do my internal counting, and crouch down to sponge the water away.
Mercy walks by and sees the mess.
“Jesus, Domino. You are worthless.”
Wilson lifts his head, and I grit my teeth.