Page 36

Story: The Haters

1998

Star was a petite girl, with acne-scarred skin and pretty brown eyes. She stood in the doorway of Orchid’s single room, hands fidgeting with a gold-plated butterfly pendant around her neck.

“I’m sick.” Her voice was childlike, even younger than her sixteen years. “They said you could help me.”

“Maybe.” Orchid surveyed the girl from her tattered armchair, like a don or a queen. There was pain in the way Star held her slight body, anxiety in the twisting of her features. Orchid recognized it, remembered it. “What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s private,” Star said, glancing behind her. There was noise in the hallway, there always was: deals for drugs, sex, stolen goods, often devolving into arguments and violence.

“Come in.” Orchid waved a magnanimous hand.

Star stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She moved to the middle of the hardwood floor, taking in her surroundings, eyeing the other tenants. Lucy sat slightly behind Orchid: her protégée, her henchman. Orchid had kept the promise she’d made years ago to keep the girl safe. Her reward was Lucy’s devotion. Her servitude. Tracey, the other girl Orchid had collected, was sprawled on the sofa, sucking on a bottle of cheap liquor. Orchid had thought she could be useful, and for a time, she was. But Tracey was proving to be too damaged, too addicted, nothing but a liability. And yet Orchid didn’t have the heart to turn her out. Not yet, anyway.

Star hovered. Orchid didn’t offer her a seat. “Tell me…”

Star’s face flushed as she described her symptoms. “I think I might have cancer.”

Giggles in stereo met her admission, but Orchid silenced them with a wave. “It’s not cancer. You’ve got the clap. I can sell you some antibiotics. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“You can pay me back in other ways.”

Her childlike face darkened, but she nodded. She’d only been on the streets for a few months. She only knew one way to survive.

“You can run some errands for me,” Orchid said, and she saw the relief on Star’s features. “Do some deliveries. Some odd jobs.”

The girl brightened slightly. “Sell drugs?”

“Sometimes, but not like you think. There’s a whole economy down here. There’s power in getting people what they need.”

“What about men? Do I have to…?” Star fumbled for the words, but they weren’t necessary. Orchid knew.

“Not if you don’t want to. I can keep you busy. I can pay you. But you will have to do things that are hard. Maybe harder than sex work.”

“Nothing’s harder than that,” Star spat. “I will do anything else. Anything.”

Orchid saw the power in this tiny girl, the will to survive. She smiled.

“Welcome to the family, Star.”