Touch (me) Down

Pov: Suzy

“Don’t look at me like that.”

I took a bite of a bacon sandwich already cut in half so the Queen wouldn’t starve. She fixed me with judgmental green eyes and licked her whiskers expectantly.

“There must be some mice here.” I glanced around the ruined train car. It smelled of cracked leather, old dust, and abandonment. Between the seats lay fossilized crumbs—plenty to lure vermin.

Queen turned her fat orange backside to me, refusing to dignify me with an answer.

“Come on.” I lowered the sandwich to my lap. “Look at me and look at you. If the wind blows hard, which one of us flies away?”

She’d devoured her half before we started, meowing the whole time. I bit into what was left. Dry. Mostly cheap mayo and regret—but beggars can’t be choosers.

She squinted at me.

“All right, but just a bite. This is my half, and if I gave you half, I’d only get a quarter. Do the math.” I broke off a piece. She tasted it with her elegant tongue, unimpressed, then inhaled it whole.

“Mice, Queen—think mice,” I repeated. “Where we’re going, there’ll be plenty.”

The train rattled on. I shifted on the cracked vinyl and pressed my forehead to the cool glass. My reflection stared back: tired eyes, smudged mascara, hair that gave up behaving sometime in 2018.

I reminded myself why I was on this train to the town I left at sixteen and swore I’d never see again: Beth. She didn’t deserve this in her old age—not after she took me in when I was falling apart and helped me survive. She was like a mother to me. Ensuring her comfort now that she’s broken both legs is my top priority.

And I had one way to do it: find Mum’s lamp and sell it. Mum’s friend—the avant-garde glass artist everyone rolled their eyes at—made four of them. I once saw two twins to ours in a gallery, already sold, and the clerk whispered a collector wanted the complete set. If I found Mum’s lamp, I could cover Beth’s medical bills and keep her in a good home—the kind that even allows pets. If I didn’t… in two months we’d both be homeless.

I patted Queen’s head. Beth loved this orange tyrant and was heartbroken the retirement home didn’t accept cats. Another reason I needed that lamp.

The train finally screeched to a halt. Queen hopped into her carrier. A couple of passengers gave me a once-over, and I realized my clothes might not fit where I was going. The skirt was on the short side, and there was simply more of me now. The fabric strained against thighs that used to be sticks, now pressed together like two snug pillows. At least my top was buttoned and decent enough.

Queen stretched her tail and gave me a sideways glance.

“You think I look trashy?”

“Mow,” she confirmed, waiting to be lifted with her bag.

“Watch your mouth, lady, or I’ll leave you to fend for yourself.” I nodded toward the station trash cans, and she tucked her head into the safety of her home-on-a-strap.

Outside, the station looked exactly the same, like the town had been sealed in a time capsule the day I left. Heat slapped the nape of my neck; the air tasted faintly of hot tar and old well water. Somewhere, cicadas buzzed like a warning.

I walked to the designated pickup zone and stood under the faded ARRIVALS sign, praying for a stray breeze. A black sedan drifted around the bend, kicking up a cloud of dust that coated my teeth. It rolled to a stop right under the sign.

The window slid down. A blond, tanned man with a neck almost as wide as his head looked at me. His small blue eyes skimmed my skirt, lingered on my fitted top, then flicked to something on his dash—an open note with a time and one word in block letters: Marilyn.

“You’re late,” he said, sounding exactly as he looked: cocky and rude.

“I am?” I raised my brows, confused.

“You told me to pick you up at five. Now it’s five-thirty.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he’d mistaken me for someone else—but then he reached into the center console and pulled out a thick wad of bills. My throat went dry.

“But,” he added with a sly smile, “I’m pleased with what I see, and I won’t dock your pay. If you hadn’t shown up, my choice was a one-legged lady from the pub or my aunt. And for my aunt to do me this kind of favor, I’d have to donate a kidney.”

I licked my cracked lips. He’d clearly mistaken me for a hire. For a split second, I was offended—then my eyes landed on the fresh green money, and need beat pride. Destiny had a sense of humor; I could work with that.

“Did I mess up? Is this what we agreed on?” He narrowed his eyes at my hesitation.

I needed money. Lamp or no lamp, the expenses were piling up, and Beth’s medical bills were enormous. Someone had obviously stood him up. And I could dance. Oh boy, I could dance. I’d taken all kinds of classes for three years thanks to my neighbor and friend Sasha, who taught in exchange for me walking her dog when she traveled.

“Where’s your phone?” the blond bull asked. “I tried to reach you.”

“Stolen.” The lie slid out as easily as breathing. The moral high ground had been lost the second my soles touched this soil. I’d heard we wear different faces depending on where we are and who we meet. The face waiting for me here was the worst one I had.

He popped the back door lock. I tossed my bag in and set Queen’s carrier on the seat. She sprang onto the headrest and struck her best pose.

“You didn’t mention a cat. Is she part of the act?”

“No. She’s a pest,” I muttered.

Queen bared her teeth to remind me who ruled us all. If I could afford a home that allowed pets, she’d be snuggled up with Beth, but I didn’t even have enough for the one Beth was in now. Coming here was the last thing I wanted, but maybe—just maybe—I could find that lamp Mum always bragged about.

“Refresh my memory?” I opened my bag, took out a compact mirror, and dabbed sweat from my upper lip. “What exactly did we agree on?”

***

Hi, I hope you are happy and healthy. For my dear readers who already read this story - read the story notes :) And for new readers -welcome and enjoy :) And please let me know what you think about Suzy and Wolf.

Love you all, Mira.