“Here, what about this?” asked Michelle, holding up a dark red sweatshirt with an emblem of a brown face in full headdress on it. Above it was the word WARRIORS.
“Who is that?” asked Vern.
“Him? Mascot for my old high school. I think this is the only thing I got big enough to fit your whole … situation,” said Michelle. When folded in, the exoskeleton wasn’t particularly large, but it was enough of a protuberance at two or three inches to make tight tops impossible. Added to that, Michelle was petite, and Vern was not.
“I can’t wear this. You should throw it out,” said Vern.
Michelle nodded with a nervous smile. “It’s offensive, right? I know. But my late boyfriend Cory gave it to me back in eleventh grade before he got killed by a drunk driver senior year, and it’s kind of special, you know? I only wear it sometimes.”
Vern looked at Michelle hard. “God don’t like ugly,” she said.
Michelle frowned, visibly shaken by Vern’s reproval. “Right,” she said. “You know what? I got something else.”
She dug around in the car until she pulled out a jacket in the same dark red shade as the sweatshirt. “This was Cory’s, too. His letterman jacket.” Michelle hugged it. “My husband doesn’t even know I have this. I keep it hidden under the seat.”
“Thank you,” said Vern, snatching it from Michelle.
“Bottoms will be easier,” Michelle said, fishing around until she presented Vern with a pair of raw-edged booty shorts. “They’re a friend of mine’s,” said Michelle, explaining their size compared to the rest of her clothing.
“These’ll work,” said Vern, as she left Michelle to reassemble the bags in her car.
Inside, Linda was waiting with a pair of keys. “Are there others like you? Aliens?” she asked. “I mean, I know there must be, but … here. Nearby.”
She directed Vern to the stairs. “Elevator’s broken.”
“I’m not a alien,” said Vern.
“Right.”
Linda chattered about UFOs and government conspiracies as she walked Vern to her room upstairs. Distracted by explaining the details of the alien lizard race that had infiltrated humanity, she made an easy mark. Vern was able to swipe Linda’s old flip phone without notice.
“When you think about it, all the pieces fit,” Linda said as she opened the door to the room.
“No. Not when I think about it. Not at all,” Vern said, thrust into despair at the depth of human gullibility. Perhaps it was a necessity of the species. To be bent toward believing. For in the wild, a child who did not take to heart the words of its caregivers would easily perish.
Although that had never been the case with Howling and Feral. In the woods, Vern had few rules for them, and the ones she did have, they considered mere recommendations; not sacrosanct. They tested the world on their own terms, drew their own conclusions.
Vern couldn’t think of a toddler or small child who didn’t butt heads with grown-up rules.
Gogo said it was the world, not the people, who were bro ken. People believed whatever they needed to, to maintain a thread of power in a society that systematically stripped them of it.
“I’ve got some printouts at the front desk. You should get some. It’s interesting stuff. It might change your mind,” said Linda.
Vern hugged the jacket and shorts Michelle had given her, and walked into the room.
“Anyway, it’s not much, but the sheets are fresh, and the bathroom’s just to your left. Don’t leave the shower running too long before you get in. It goes cold quick. Any questions?” Linda asked.
Vern’s gut panged wantingly. “Any place round here to get food?” she asked. She remembered earlier today how Queen had stooped over that hunter’s body, eating his insides. The memory should’ve sickened her, but it made Vern lick her lips.
“The vending machines,” said Linda. “There’s also a pizza place. I don’t know if they’ll be delivering, with all the weather warnings, but you can call. There’s a guidebook with the number in it. Remember. Dial—”
“Nine,” Vern said.
“Should we do the picture now or—” Linda cut herself off before finishing when she saw Vern’s face. “Sorry, it’s just you said that if…”
Vern let the woman trail off.
“Tomorrow morning, then,” Linda said hopefully.
Vern shook her head. “There won’t be any picture, ma’am,” she said, “And I’m not an alien.”