Watchers

Chapter 11: That Hideous Stench

When Sasha's shift in the recycling center is finished, she can't get out of the room fast enough. Everyone else is still taking off their masks and gloves when she bursts through the large steel door, then she's alone in the hallway as she breaks into a run toward the stairs.

She thought the smell would become more tolerable and the urge to gag would subside the longer she stood in front of the conveyor belt, but she'd been wrong. The longer she stood there, the more sour and unbreathable the air had become, until she was sure that she'd be able to smell it in her dreams. All day she had to struggle not to gag beneath the mask that did almost nothing to disguise the smell of rotting food and whatever other unspeakable things she'd been sorting through, and now she desperately needs to fill her lungs with fresh air.

She wants a shower and a clean set of clothes, but even more than a shower, she needs to be outside, to inhale the crisp, clean air outside of the shelter. The city beyond may be full of factories spewing pollution into the sky, but Sasha will settle for a breath of air that doesn't reek of garbage.

She sprints up the stairs and past the kitchen, where the food being prepared for the evening meal has taken on an unpleasant undertone. It doesn't smell like mouth-watering stew anymore - all Sasha can smell is what the scraps will inevitably become. It turns her stomach and she walks past without ducking her head in to check on Jane.

She does pause, however, when she gets to the laundry room. If she's going outside it'll be nice to have her coat, and she'll feel a lot better to have it back in her possession in any case, so she steps into the room. The handful of shelter residents assigned to laundry duty look up at her in surprise - either they don't get many visitors, or she stinks so bad she's not welcome here.

"I'm trying to find my coat," she says to the one who looks like he's in charge. "I gave it to one of the nuns when I arrived yesterday - she said she'd have it cleaned for me."

He looks at her with raised eyebrows, as if he has no knowledge of or interest in her coat, then he gestures to a towering pile of laundry on a table against one wall. It's full of mismatched items, jeans folded and stacked on top of shirts, on top of coats, men's mixed with women's.

"You're welcome to look through the laundry," he says, "but you better not mess up my piles. I spent all day folding them."

Sasha glances at the stack, hoping her coat will pop out at her, but it's a drab parka and there are quite a few tan items in the pile. The need to be outside, with the wind on her face and fresh air in her lungs, is still urgent and besides, she can tell she's making all the laundry workers uncomfortable. She decides to come back later to tackle the pile and find her coat.

She goes back out to the hall and takes the next door out to the courtyard. It will have to suffice for the moment, even though Sasha can still detect the odor of the recycling wafting into the garden.

Her skin immediately prickles with goosebumps and she shivers, but she ignores the cold and walks as far away from the building as she can get. She breathes deeply as she paces toward the fence, filling her lungs with the crisp winter air. The garbage smell is probably trapped in her nostrils at this point, but it seems like the further away she gets, the better the air smells.

She gets all the way to the fence, her hands on the cold metal and her nose poking through to the city on the other side as if she can suck in fresh air that way. She hadn't realized just how claustrophobic she'd been feeling in the recycling center, or the shelter as a whole, until this moment, but she can't take in enough deep breaths.

She hears the door opening behind her and when she turns around, Sasha sees a nun watching her. The woman smiles and says, "Are you okay, dear?"

"Yes," Sasha says, reluctant to come away from the fence.

"I saw you come out here," she says. "I thought you might be sick."

"No," Sasha answers. "I just needed some fresh air. I was on recycling duty today."

The nun chuckles, the warm smile never faltering from her lips, and she nods knowingly as she says, "That is a difficult assignment to get used to. If it wasn't for the recycling center, though, the shelter couldn't keep functioning the way it does."

"Do you think I can get reassigned?" Sasha asks hopefully.

"Maybe," the nun says, "when another spot opens up. Most of the residents here have taken their turn in the recycling center. In the meantime, I know something that will make you feel a lot better."

Sasha wants to ask her about Jane, who got assigned to the kitchen right away, but the nun holds the door open for her and says, "Come along, dear."

Sasha follows her back inside and the nun takes her to the showers to wash the stink off. She gives Sasha a fresh pair of clothes along with a cozy sweater, then leaves her to shower. The rest of the women from the recycling center are already here, most of them just finishing their showers and drying off.