Antumbra - A Lost Cause

Wild Card - Chapter Fourteen

Arva held Hannah's hand as they got in line for the food trucks. They were early, and the trucks were still being set up, but it was bustling as always. To the right were multiple skids packed with the ration bars. There never seemed to be a shortage of those. What Arva was really after were the trucks to the left of the lot across from the cenotaph, the trucks that carried real food you had to pay for. Fresh bread, eggs, milk, frozen foods, microwavable meals, fruits and vegetables, canned goods, all the things you couldn't get in the slums. Arva held onto her bag tight. It felt heavier than normal with all the money she carried, whilst Hannah kept a tight grip on the wagon's handle. Arva planned to splurge this month, load them up with as much as their little red wagon could hold. Arva used to sit in that wagon when she was little, and when Hannah was a baby Arva would sometimes cart her around, but it was too small for that now. It was, however, the perfect size to carry groceries, and they eagerly awaited a chance at the good stuff. Arva often left Hannah at home, knowing it would be cruel to let her see things she couldn't have. Not this time. As the crowd of people chatted amongst themselves and exchanged pleasantries, the sisters kept their eyes fixated on the goods being unloaded.

"Well look who it is," Elia said as she noticed the two standing in line. Arva waved without taking her hand off her bag. Elia strode over, her own empty shopping bags over her shoulder, but as soon as she approached them and saw Arva's face, her smile and cheer melted away, "oh my God, what happened to you?"

"Shh," Arva nudged towards Hannah, who looked up at them with a lack of understanding, "it's nothing."

"It's not-" Elia checked her tone, leaning in to whisper, "it's not nothing. Are you okay? Did someone hit you?"

"Some jerk tried to mug me on the way home from work," Arva admitted quickly, "it's no big deal. I kicked-" she lowered her voice even more for Hannah's sake, "I kicked his butt and he ran away like a punk."

"I certainly hope you did," Elia examined her friend's face, trying not to touch the tender spots. Arva didn't wear makeup, they didn't exactly make foundation in her colour, so she hadn't even tried to hide the bruises and cuts with anything. She had a black eye, a cut on both her lip and her forehead, and Elia couldn't see it, but Arva had noticed her stomach and shoulder had bruised where she'd been hit. Elia looked at her with a genuinely pained expression, "did you call the police?" Arva gave her a look of bemusement, and Elia sighed, "well, did you tell your grandmother?"

"She doesn't know," admitted Arva, "I've been keeping out of sight whenever she has her glasses. I haven't told anyone."

"What about your boss?" Elia asked, "you said she was nice, did she try to help?"

"Like I said, I didn't tell anyone," Arva was becoming frustrated with the questioning, "and it's not like it happened at work so it's not her business. I'm fine, I just got a little roughed up, he didn't take anything or break anything."

"Arva, you can't be working in the city if you're going to be getting mugged every time you walk home," Elia crossed her multi-jointed arms. Arva was getting annoyed by the pestering, but knew Elia was just being a good friend, even if Arva would rather just drop the subject.

"I'll think of something," Arva said. She couldn't drive, buses didn't run to the Lows, and she wasn't about to wear a disguise to work.

"Listen," said Elia, "my mom still has her old car in the garage. If you want she could drive you home when you finish."

"No," Arva said curtly, "thank you, though." She didn't want to put anyone else out for her sake, and she knew Elia's mom was a teacher, so she'd have an awkward schedule leaving school then going to pick her up every evening.