The Seven Habits Read online

  Ocean tasted a bitter flavor in her mouth and noticed that the muscles in her neck and shoulders had grown tense.

  “She’s been with me since almost the beginning…”

  “What about Pebble?” The words came out more quickly, and much more sharply, than Ocean had intended and she felt herself blush in the darkness. Corduroy snorted a laugh, but Gauge seemed unfazed by the question.

  “Pebble? He’s… different. Doesn’t really talk much. Or at all, now that I really think about it, but I don’t think you two would have much in common. He’s just a little kid.”

  Ocean felt as if her chest were inflating, smiled like she’d just seen the most beautiful rainbow on the most perfect of mornings. Just a little kid. She savored every syllable of the words, repeating them over and over in her mind. So he knew somehow, that she was a woman, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, he seemed to understand her in a way no one ever had.

  Gauge led them through a gaping hole in a wall and Ocean suddenly found herself standing in a cavernous room. Square in shape, it had brick walls that reached up to touch a ceiling that seemed to curve gently inward like the inside of some massive dome. The top of the ceiling was so high that only the silhouettes of pipework could be glimpsed through a gloom that gradually darkened into a space as black as the night sky.

  With no windows or openings to the outside world, the entire chamber would have been obscured by darkness had it not been for rows of candles that flickered from all sides. The candles were housed in containers of every imaginable shape, size, and material—the tops of tin cans glowed with hidden fire alongside glass bottles, large globes that looked as if they’d been scavenged from lamp posts, and ceramic cups with broken handles. Behind each candle were shards of broken mirror, amplifying and scattering the light so that the brick walls danced with shadows.

  A few candles where clustered on the floor, but the majority of them had been placed between concrete supports that jutted out from the walls at regular intervals. The space between each column formed an alcove of sorts and the group who lived there had taken advantage of that feature. Somehow, they’d managed to wedge pieces of wood and old street signs into these otherwise empty spaces, forming shelves that were nearly twice as high as Ocean was tall.

  For a moment she simply stood in the mouth of the tunnel as her eyes darted from feature to feature in an attempt to take it all in. Across the room, and directly caddy-corner from her, looked to be another tunnel leading out of the chamber. The interior wall that ran parallel to it had places where bricks had been knocked out, leaving gaps that made it look as though the wall were a puzzle with missing pieces.

  The largest hole was closest to the other tunnel, and it was big enough that Gauge and Corduroy could have passed through shoulder to shoulder, still having enough room to flex their elbows. Several feet away was a smaller opening, this one leading down to the soot stained floor, and a fire crackled within it. The smoke from the orange and yellow flames curled upwards and disappeared into the remains of a broken pipe that looked as though it had once been entirely encased within the brick. The light from this makeshift hearth illuminated the other through another hole, just enough for Ocean to see walls that looked as if they were made of dirt. Pieces of root and stone were embedded into the hard-packed earth and the young girl quickly deduced that the room had been dug out by hand.

  The third opening on this particular wall wasn’t as wide as the first, only having just enough space for one person to pass through. Without the benefit of light, however, this once concealed its secrets in darkness.

  The other walls of the chamber fared better. She could just make out the hint of another opening halfway along the wall to her right and the one directly across from her only had a single hole punched through it. The interior of that one was also hidden from view, but because they had hung a heavy blanket on the other side, which caused Ocean’s curiosity to burn as hotly as the flames in the fireplace.

  Dozens of questions flew through her mind, but refused to pass through her mouth. She simply stood there, mouth agape, as she turned her attention to a large, wooden table that dominated the center of the room.

  At the table sat a small boy, his face as round and pale as the full moon, with a mop of red hair hanging down in front of his eyes. He cocked his head to the side as he took in the newcomer and something about the way his ears peeked out from the sides of his head reminded Ocean of a monkey.

  “Pebble,” Gauge said. “This is Ocean. She’s going to be living with us.”

  The boy blinked twice but his expression remained as impassive as the cobblestone floor. The blinks must have meant something to Gauge however, because the man frowned and shook his head. “Now, Pebble… give her a chance. Ocean is nice, you’ll like her. You’ll see.”

  Ocean stepped toward the table with her hands in her pockets. She smiled at the boy, wanting so badly to make a good impression, and he looked up at her. Again, he blinked twice but this time his brow furrowed, and his mouth reduced itself to a thin, tight line.

  “Hi, Pebble.” She wasn’t really used to meeting new people and wasn’t exactly sure what to say. Instead, she thrust her hand into her pocket and pulled out a little glass chimp with a missing tail.”I… I want you to have this.”

  The boy immediately brightened, and he blinked once, very slowly, as he reached out for the figurine. From behind her, Ocean heard Gauge’s laughter echo through the hall and she took a long, slow breath through her nose.

  At the same time, a woman appeared through one of the many holes that gaped in the walls of the room. She was wearing what appeared to be a shirt so long that it came down to her ankles, only it was tied around the waist with some sort of purple ribbon. Her hair was dark and long like Gauge’s, and she smiled when she saw Pebble playing with the glass animal.

  “Well, it looks like someone has made a new friend.”

  Ocean tried not to stare at the tray the woman carried.

  “You’ve come on a special night. We eat well around here. But only this well every few months.”

  Sitting atop the tray was one of the largest chunks of meat Ocean had ever seen… other than in dreams, of course. It was pale white with tendrils of steam rising from the top and little rivers of clear juices ran down its side. On either side of the meat were two metal cans with faded labels.

  My God, do these people actually have canned food?

  Ocean shook her head as if she half expected to wake up at any moment. She wanted to be polite but the food drew her gaze like her body drew flies.

  “My name’s Levi.” the woman said, as she placed the platter upon the table. “Don’t be shy. Come, have a seat. Oh, and be a sweetheart and grab that those cups over there, won’t you?”

  Ocean followed Levi’s line of sight. There was a small recess in the wall and lined along it were four metal goblets sitting atop a tray similar to the one that beautiful, beautiful meat was resting upon.

  “I guess we’ll need to find another one now, huh?”

  “She can share mine for tonight.” Ocean caught her breath at the sound of Gauge’s voice and closed her eyes for a fraction of a second. “Her name’s Ocean, by the way… and I think she’s just a little overwhelmed right now.”

  “No… No, I’m okay. I’ll get them.”

  She scurried to the alcove and reached for the cups, anxious to show Gauge how well she would fit in. Her hands were trembling worse than she realized and, as she reached for the second goblet, she somehow managed to bump against the platter. It slid from the alcove and though she scrambled to catch it, it seemed to bounce off her hands. It hit the floor with a loud clang, amplified by the dome shaped ceiling so high above.

  Almost immediately, Ocean heard a thin, warbling cry from one of the other rooms. It was tentative at first but quickly grew in strength and soon echoed through the room. At first, Ocean didn’t understand what she was hearing. She stopped, mid-crouch, with her arm stretched toward th
e platter and simply listened to the cry.

  “Shoot.”Levi sounded disappointed, but not angry. “You woke the baby.”

  Baby? Baby?

  It had been years since Ocean had heard, or even saw, an infant. People just weren’t strong enough for it anymore. There were barely enough nutrients to support one life… much less two. On the surface, at least. Down here, there was apparently life; fresh and new and crying so loudly that, in her world, it would have drawn the rotters to it within minutes.

  The room shimmied through a veil of tears as the infant continued bawling.

  No, not again. I won’t cry, damn it. I won’t cry…

  “I’ll take care of it.” It was Gauge’s voice. “You’ve been slaving over the oven all evening. You set the table and I’ll put Baby back to sleep, okay?”

  Ocean felt as though the floor had dropped out from under her feet. Levi. Gauge. The baby… It all made sense—how could she have been so stupid? To think that someone like him would ever be interested in her?

  Ocean saw her reflection in the silver platter—the oily tangles of hair, sunken cheeks, and hollow eyes, the little cracks at the corners of her dry, flaky lips. Even compared to Corduroy with his disfigured scars, she looked like a monster. She was stupid and ugly and…

  “Come on and eat, sweetheart. Don’t worry about that, I’ll get it later.”

  From the other room, the baby continued to cry but she could hear Gauge’s voice, singing softly. There was the scrape of chair legs against the floor, Corduroy saying something in a nightmare voice about how good everything smelled… .

  At that moment, Ocean decided. She would be beautiful, too. She would eat and drink and wash. She would wear clean clothes… pretty ones like the ones Levi had on, and she would be helpful and she would grow strong.

  And then, one day, Gauge would see her as the woman she truly was. He would hold her hand like he had in the tunnels and sing to her in the same soft voice that was slowly lulling the baby back to sleep.

  She walked to the table, hoping the others couldn’t hear the gurgling she from her belly, and smiled.

  She would be happy here. She’d make sure of it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Now that security guard was really starting to freak me out, man. He tried to play it off like he was just walkin’ the beat, ya know? Only he just kept circlin’ this particular cluster of stores like I was the nucleus at the center of his existence. It seemed like every time I stole a look at him, the dude was starin’ me down. Got to the point that there were some pretty crazy ideas runnin’ through my head. Like maybe how he can see right into me, how he knows exactly what I’ve been thinkin’ about over here and can see all the dark designs swirlin’ around in my mind.

  I start getting all fidgety… chasin’ this itch that starts at my neck and then runs to my arm before tryin’ to hide on the side of my belly. And I know this probably just makes me look even more suspicious, right? But what can I say? I was scared, man. I was fuckin’ terrified. Shit, I didn’t even know if I had it in me to do these things I’d been thinkin’ about. I mean, I’m a pretty easy goin’ guy, ya know? Never bought into that whole violence scene. So yeah… maybe I was a little bit on edge. But who can blame me, right?

  Anyways, I stroll down into that little sunken area on the other side of the falls… the one with all the benches and that coffee shop set up in the center? I plop my ass down so I can just see past the cascade of water, pick up a newspaper someone had left layin’ around, and try to play it cool. Just an average dude readin’ the sports section. Nothin’ to see here, cats. Move right along.

  But the entire time I’m actually watchin’ the shop girl from the corner or my eye like I was Dian Fossey or some shit. I musta sat there about an hour, hour and a half. After a while, the rent-a-pig kinda wandered off so I was able to focus my full attention on Clarice fuckin’ Hudson, ya know?

  So I’m listening to the roar of the falls and breathin’ in that scent of fresh ground coffee… man, is that a beautiful aroma or what? That place makes a kick ass cuppa joe, believe you me. Anyways, I’m sittin’ there watchin’ her and I notice how every time she has more than a few seconds between customers, she reaches down beneath the counter and comes back up with a handful of food. Ah hell, man… I don’t know what kind of food. I was a ways off, dig? Cheez Its, potato chips, could been manna for all I fuckin’ know. I swear, the things you guys choose to focus on… blows my mind, man. It really does.

  See, the whole point of this little narrative isn’t what she was eating, man. It’s that she’s stuffin’ this shit in her cheeks like a chipmunk stockin’ up for winter. I mean, that musta been a bottomless fuckin’ bag of whatever ‘cause that girl just kept shovelin’ it in. She wasn’t no porker, either. Hell, you know. You’ve seen her… well yeah, most of her, I guess. But you get my drift, right?

  So, like I said, she’s wolfin’ down her little snacks for close to two hours when this shirt and tie guy comes along and starts chatting her up. She’s nodding, shaking her head, wiping the sweat off her face with her hand. Then she takes a look at her watch and stuffs her red apron under the counter while Shirt And Tie takes her place at the register.

  She walks outta the Dollar Bonanza and I give her about a minute or so and then just kinda stand up casually and start followin’ this broad, right? I tail her to the escalators on the other side of the mall and we ride all the way up to the third floor and I keep thinkin’ about all these people around her. People who have no fuckin’ clue. I mean, this chick could potentially be infested with thirty-one different flavors of crinkum. And you’ve got dudes giving her the once over, dykes undressing her with their eyes. Hell, they probably thought that sweat made her sex… .

  Crinkum? You know, man… disease. Like an STD and shit. Picked that up back around the turn of the century. No, not the fuckin’ disease, man… the term. I swear, sometimes I think you two get a kick outta pokin’ me with your little verbal sticks. Do you wanna hear this shit or not? ‘Cause I can just shut the fuck up right now and not say another word.

  That’s what I thought.

  So anyways, here I am following Ms. Clarice fuckin’ Hudson across the food court and, since it was lunch time, they’ve got this guy in a tux sittin’ over at the baby grand. He’s ticklin’ those ivories and the music kinda drifts through the lull of the crowd, weaves in and out of the static sound the falls makes as it flows over the edge of its trough. Real mellow, classical shit. Gives the whole scene this art film quality, ya know? Like I can’t believe I’m actually doin’ this and there’s probably a director hiding with his camera crew in the back of Steak on a Stick, just waitin’ to yell cut.

  So the chick walks up to the counter at Burger World and I’m acting like I’m checkin’ out some of the menus from those other paragons of fine dining, but I’m actually still watchin’, ya know? Still trying to figure this shit out.

  So this sweaty little shop girl orders two super-size value meals, man. And I’m not talkin’ about those flat, meat pancakes they try to pass off as burgers either. Fuck no. Triple stack with cheese, lettuce, tomato, the optional bacon. Bitch gets it all. Now keep in mind that she’s been eating for nearly half her shift already. Me, I’d be about ready to split wide open by then. But not this lady, no. She eats every last bite and even fuckin’ licks that gooey cheese off the wrappers, if you can believe that. Hell, I half expected her to shove those down her gullet too.

  When she goes back to work, she rings herself up a purchase and guess what? More fuckin’ food, man. Ha! This time I know what it was—she got one of those little bags of cotton candy and three boxes of banana moon pies. And by the time she left for the day, there wasn’t anything left but wrappers, cardboard, and this little dab of marshmallow cream on the corner of her mouth.

  But did that keep her from stoppin’ by the theater on her way out and gettin’ one of those huge tubs of popcorn? Damn right, it didn’t. I could see the butter glistening on that shit from
twenty feet away.

  Haven’t you been listening to a fuckin’ word I’ve been sayin’, man? Do I hafta spell it all out for you in big block letters and bright yellow crayon? Good Lord…

  Okay, then. Let’s just recap a little here so you retards will be brought back up to speed, okay?

  First sign: profuse sweating. And why is that? Anyone? Anyone?

  That’s right, man. Give yourself a fuckin’ gold star. They sweat because they’re going through these changes, and the sweat is produced by the heat from the energy required to rewrite someone’s genetic code. But energy can’t be created or destroyed, man. It can only change form, right? So she’s burnin’ up all this energy realigning chromosomes and shit… and it’s gotta be replaced, ya know? Otherwise her entire system will just break down. What good is a pathogen without a host, man?

  See, that’s the second sign right there. This ravenous fuckin’ appetite without so much as adding on a pound. Hell, if it didn’t mean the end of everything we know, you could make a killing off that shit in the diet market.

  So, Clarice fuckin’ Hudson has now ticked off two of the seven on this little checklist, and in my heart, I know. I fuckin’ know, man. Bitch is infective. But just havin’ that gut feeling isn’t justification enough. You gotta have empirical evidence. You gotta have facts.

  I figure I gotta keep doggin’ her, right? Which isn’t hard. She drove this titty pink Volkswagen Bug with a sticker on the back that said It’s Not A Choice… It’s A Child. Which is kinda ironic, don’t ya think?

  What d’ya mean, how so? Fuckin’ Ocean, man. It’s like the universe was sending me a message through that bit of bumper sticker philosophy. ‘Cause just thinkin’ about what I had in mind still made me nervous, dig? I wasn’t used to all this cloak and dagger shit. Hell, I encode envelopes for a living. I sit at this little desk for hours on end, looking at these pictures on my monitor where people have scrawled the address so bad the computer can’t read it. I type shit like PE and three states away this piece of mail gets sprayed with a barcode and goes on its merry fuckin’ way. Might just be a day in the life for guys like you… but for me it was foreign territory, right?