Antumbra - A Lost Cause

Growing Pains - Chapter Twelve

Arva stepped into the Cut Cloth a few minutes earlier than she reasonably needed to, eager to impress with her punctuality. She'd worried she may have arrived too early, and the store might've been locked, but luckily Deborah was already waiting for her, a big smile plastered across her round face. Arva bid her a good morning and followed Deborah into the back. She hung her bag on a coat rack, not that there was anything in it, and stood at rapt attention for instructions. She hadn't noticed the older man who stood near the back. He gave her a cordial nod as Deborah made introductions.

"This is my husband, Kyle," Deborah said, Arva immediately moving to shake the man's hand. Much like his wife, the man accepted without question or hesitation, and it made Arva feel really good to be treated as an actual equal.

"I'm Arva," she introduced herself with a smile.

"You'll be helping us back here in the stock room," Deborah explained. "Kyle will show you where everything goes, and how to take inventory today, but for the most part you'll be on your own, keeping things organized. Think you can handle that?"

"Absolutely!" Arva held her hands tight in front of her, eager to get going. Kyle didn't say much, but he was more than patient and helpful as Arva slowly learned the ropes. As they worked she could hear customers come in, people talking, asking questions, and as time went on she would start to pick up on the formula of things. When she heard one customer ask for a print that wasn't out front, Arva found it among the stock and had it ready for Deborah when she entered the back. Arva kept busy, and made sure to stay clear of the open door to the storefront. Last thing she wanted to do was drive customers away on the first day. Eventually Deborah swapped out for Kyle to have lunch, while Arva continued taking inventory as she was shown.

"You can have a break, y'know," Deborah said, sipping coffee, "have some lunch, sit down for a bit."

"I actually didn't bring food," Arva admitted, "we don't have much left at the end of the month." Deborah seemed momentarily surprised by this.

"You only buy food once a month?" she asked.

"The food trucks only come once a month," Arva explained. "Though, hopefully now I can afford to go grocery shopping whenever we need it."

"I don't understand, what food trucks?" Deborah asked. Arva never had to explain the workings of the Lows, and fumbled her way through an explanation. Hybrids almost never got work past the outskirts, and money was tight, almost always spent on necessities. Food trucks would drive in every month and distribute rations since things were so bad, and if you had the money, you could purchase real food from them as well, the closer to expiring, the cheaper it was. It kept some measure of the economy, but since everyone still paid for utilities as well as taxes, it was often difficult to feed themselves without the allotted rations. Said rations were distributed based on the number of household occupants and their ages, free of charge, though you could buy more at a fraction of the cost of real food. Deborah seemed ignorant to most of this, though wasn't especially surprised.

"That's quite the lot in life you have," she said with sympathy. Arva certainly didn't like it, but that's what this job was for. Of course Hybrids could only earn so much, climb the ladder so high, before they made themselves noticeable to the public. Aside from Silva's dad, Arva was the only Hybrid she knew who was working in the city, though she was confident there were others.

"I mean, hopefully one day things will get better," Arva shrugged. "When I was really little, you-" she adjusted her choice of words, "we couldn't go to the city because Hybrids weren't even allowed in."

"I don't remember that," said Deborah.

"There was no real rule, I guess," Arva momentarily paused her work as she recalled the next part, "but if a Hybrid went to the city they'd get beaten up, chased out, or just completely ignored. It changed when the outskirts started to grow," she referred to the transitional area that divided the slums and the city. It was, next to farms, one of the few places humans and Hybrids really mixed, albeit usually under strict human supervision.