Periphery//Chapter Five Pt 2

Periphery//Chapter Five Pt 2

Something painfully tight clamped around her waist then and jerked her backwards. Her feet left the ground and the little girl screamed, wide eyes fixed on something Lucy couldn't see. Personally, she was far too surprised to yell. She merely squeaked out a little, "Oh!" and clutched at what appeared to be a metal claw around her middle.

"Hello dear," said a rich woman's voice, one that might have been jolly if not for the situation. The claw, or the arm it was connected to, rotated to reveal that Lucy was being held prisoner by a large contraption not unlike a forklift, only it had five times the bells and whistles. Seated comfortably on red velvet at the forefront of the machine was a large woman with a mass of black curly hair and skin like cinnamon. She was also, Lucy noted with detached discomfort, lacking legs below the knee. Her trousers (what was it with Pipeline women not wearing skirts?) were knotted off at the end, and there was nothing to dangle over the edge of the seat.

"Um, hello," Lucy said. Rhys, who hadn't stopped when she did, came dashing back, short of breath and alarmed. Columbine followed, calmer in all appearances, but then, who could tell behind the mirrored goggles?

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Rhys demanded loudly. His voice seemed to draw more attention from passersby than the spectacle created by Lucy and the forklift contraption.

The curly-haired woman eyed him distastefully and replied, "None of your business, less you wanna be the one up there. Buzz off, hun."

"Excuse me, but what happens to my friend is my business."

"Chill, Rhys," Columbine said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's just Maira. I assume she's picked up Lucy? Let her do her thing—there's no harm in it. Usually."

"Usually—"

"Aw, shut up already," Maira said. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Lucy with a strange little half-smile. "Now, back to you and me. What is it you're doing down here, girl?"

"Looking for something that was stolen from us," Lucy answered. The claw around her waist had ceased to be painful and was now more of a support. Curious as it felt to be dangling above the ground this way, there was also something pleasing about it. She just hoped no one would try to peek up her skirts.

"A quest, huh? And you've employed Miss Columbine, I see. Good for you. Now, you're probably wonderin' why I've got you, so to speak, in my clutches," Maira said, her smile widening. Lucy decided it was a friendly smile, for the most part at least, and relaxed. She nodded.

"Well. You see, dear, I have this knack for people. Since I was born, I just look at certain people and I know, see, I know, this is somebody I gotta help. They got something they gotta do, and I'm supposed to help 'em on with that something. Soon as I saw you talking with little Jessalee over there, I know you one of them people," she said. She leaned on the contraption's steering wheel and pulled a lever at the same time, which shortened the claw's arm and brought Lucy in closer. The two women stared at one another for a minute, Lucy in frank curiosity and Maira in open scrutiny.

After a minute, Maira shifted herself around (how convenient, to be able to face either way on a chair because there are no calves or feet in the way, Lucy thought) and opened the back hatch of the vehicle. She rummaged through whatever it held—Lucy couldn't see from her position—and then turned back around with a small object in hand.

The apple Maira placed in Lucy's hands looked nothing like those she bought from the store at home. Those were always perfectly shaped, perfectly red, and gave off a very strong plastic scent that had to be ignored while eating. This apple was none of those things. It was slightly lopsided and had hints of gold and green mixed in with the red skin. There were even a few brown speckles near the top, along with a stem and leaf. Lucy had never seen such a fruit. Cautiously, she brought it up to her nose and sniffed. It smelled…good.

"Now don't you go eating that right away," Maira said, leaning over the wheel and waving a finger in Lucy's face. "I give people things they gonna need, but they don't always use 'em when they're supposed to. You keep an eye out and your brain turned on, okay honey?"

She pressed a few buttons and pulled a lever, and the machine set Lucy gently back on the ground, still clutching at the apple. The real apple, grown on a real apple tree—she was sure of it. There was no way it had come from one of the hydroponic Outlier farms that produced all the New City food.

But then where had Maira gotten it?

"It ain't off the black market, if that's what you're thinking," Maira said, noticing Lucy's contemplative look. The conviction in her voice alone was enough to make Lucy believe her. "You New Citizens, you think you know everything about us here below the Pipeline, but really…don't flatter yourself. Hope your quest goes well, dear. You seem like a nice woman."

With that she collected herself and drove off, slowly, through the corridor and around a corner. People continued to move just as they had been, and the little girl with the questions about angels had disappeared. Lucy stood pondering all of this until Rhys put a hand on her shoulder and steered her back in the right direction.

"Now, if that wasn't the strangest thing," he said. "What's that she's given you, Lu?"

She showed him the apple, which he surveyed with little interest.

"Huh, odd. Don't know how that's supposed to help. Placate a guard with a healthy snack, eh? Something to give to the urchins instead of coins like last time."

"On the contrary," Columbine said, "Maira's gifts are not without merit. I'd keep that close, if I were you. What is it? Some sort of fruit, by Rhys's comment."

"An apple," Lucy said. "I've never seen one like this. It doesn't look factory grown." She took one last admiring look and then tucked the fruit into her largest skirt pocket. It was a snug fit and sure to stay put. Pockets were not very fashionable in the New City—only people who actually worked, with tools and whatnot, needed pockets. Nonetheless, Lucy sewed her own onto most outfits. They were more practical that way, and Lucy was a very practical person.

"Hmm," was the only contribution Columbine would give to the conversation, and then they continued walking in relative silence.

Predictably, the silence didn't last long.