Shade Strong

Chapter One: Zillah Stark

Zillah watched another car round the corner and sighed. There were some days when it was impossible to get to work on time. She nervously tapped on the dash as she waited for an opening. The summer heat was oppressive, and her 95% black dress code was absorbing every stray sunbeam, warming her to near heat exhaustion. It'd be different if this was her first time showing up late, but no, she had suffered Britt's looks of disdain as she rolled in late more than six times. Britt was going to fire her. Then what would she do? It wasn't like Zillah had been saving for such an emergency. Another car passed, and she saw a gap. Riding the bumper of the car in front of her, she repeated prayer after prayer in a chanting rhythm. "Lord, please don't let Britt be there. Please don't let her be there. Please." The midnight blue Camry in front of her stopped suddenly, and she let out a squeak, laying on the horn. "Sh-crap! Sorry God. Just please make him go faster. Please make him go faster. Please." The car ambled, seemingly sightseeing, though there was little to see. Zillah took deep breaths and tried to slow time with her mind, willing the clock on her dash to stop. If she was working with Carren it would be fine. Carren was the assistant manager, and she never cared what time Zillah showed up. Britt had beat her out for the store manager position, and Carren took delight in contradicting Britt every chance she got. It was common knowledge that Britt wanted to fire Zillah, so if Carren was there, it wouldn't happen.

Zillah turned into the Valdosta Mall parking lot and pulled into an spot by the service entrance next to Sears. She forgot her lanyard and had to run back to her car to pull it off the rearview mirror. When she got the job at Victoria's Secret, she thought it would be exciting and a great conversation starter. Unfortunately Victoria's Secret employee translated to porn star in the minds of most of the guys she'd met, and all her friends wanted ridiculous discounts. She spent two thirds of her time straightening cotton panty tables and the other third dissuading guys who wanted her to model the merchandise. Working with people like Britt and Carren didn't help either. They firmly believed the more skin you showed, the higher your sales. And competition was fierce. Zillah tugged at the camisole under her blazer and held her breath as she reached the door to the service entrance. For some unknown reason the sanitation department had put a dumpster right next to the entrance door. As if she needed a tactile reminder that this job was garbage.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she spotted a huge, mangy dog pulling at some trash from one of the food court shops on the other side of the dumpster. Pitch black, it blended into the shade created by the rising sun. Excellent, she thought, now I have to maneuver around wild animals going to and from work. It looked up as she opened the door, but didn't move towards her. "That's right, nice doggie. You stay there." She double checked the door to make sure she had closed out the dog completely and turned to the corridor. It was silly, but this corridor had always given her the creeps. Dim fluorescent lighting and grey walls with doors that had no knobs, it ran about 20 yards along the back side of the shops allowing employees to avoid the crowded main entrances and take out the empty merchandise boxes without having to push through customers. Zillah breathed yet another sigh and started down the corridor at a brisk pace. She just had to go through the double doors at the end of the corridor, walk two stores to the right, and sneak into VS before Britt saw her. If Britt didn't see her enter, she could pretend she'd been there the whole time. She was about halfway down the corridor when there was an explosion above her head and the already dim lights blinked out. She squeaked and covered her head against the falling sparks, but they died before they reached her, leaving her in darkness. For a moment she just stood there listening to her own panicked breathing. From the darkness she began to hear a rumble and almost cried out in terror, when she realized it was her own stomach growling. She'd skipped breakfast, and now her stomach was reminding her of her error in judgment. A short laugh escaped her lips as she realized the ridiculousness of her fears. She took the rest of the trip down the corridor cautiously with hands out in front of her and stepped into the lively mall without further incident. With each step closer to Victoria's Secret her fear in the corridor faded, and the fear of Britt and losing her job dominated her mind.

She made it to the entrance just in time to see Britt getting a pajama set down for a young preteen and her mother. Their eyes met, and Zillah knew luck was not on her side today. She rushed through the store past the fitting rooms to the back storage room to put her purse in a locker. Having taken no more than three steps into the back room she was assaulted by a shrill voice in an obvious huff.

"Zillah, it is 10:29 in the morning," Britt announced angrily. How had she finished with her customer so quickly?

Zillah turned slowly, absently fingering a tassel on her purse and racking her brain for a believable excuse. "Yes, Britt. I'm so sorry I'm late-"

"-you do know that you were supposed to be here at 10am," Britt spat.

"Yes, I..." Blank. Zillah's mind went completely blank. The truth was she'd woken up in plenty of time to get to work, but she'd wasted her morning shopping online for the perfect gift for her sister Genevieve's seventeenth birthday. She'd been perusing a cute, eclectic shop on Etsy when she noticed the time. After a 4 minute shower, she had raced to her car, toothbrush still in mouth. Frankly she was impressed that she'd made such good time, considering how late she'd left.

"What? You couldn't get your car started again? Slept through your alarm clock? Had a doctor's appointment that ran late? It's always something with you. You realize I log your sign in times, don't you? In the past month you have been late by at least fifteen minutes more than three times. Since you are still within your first three months of service with the company, that qualifies as a terminating offense. I'm sorry to say this, but we will be letting you go." Britt smiled as she opened the door to the store and waited for Zillah to pass through it. She walked her to the store entrance and waited for her to exit. "I'm sorry this didn't work out, but I'm sure it is for the best. You can pick up your last check next Friday or we will mail it to you," she said turning back to the store and sashaying through the racks of bras and panties to the register. Her skirt flirted with each boyfriend and husband standing idly by as the women in the store thumbed through merchandise, attacking the sales bins with the enthusiasm of small children on Christmas morning. Zillah stood transfixed. Not by the sway of Britt's hips, like the males of the store, but by the lightning quick reversal of her fortunes. What had just happened? How had she been so unceremoniously sacked? What was she going to do now?

After taking the long way back to her car, by way of the frozen yogurt shop, she received yet another surprise when her car refused to start. She'd had this '87 Plymouth Reliant station wagon since her sixteenth birthday nine years ago. It had been her father's before that. Her sister Genevieve had gotten a new Dodge Charger last year, but no one in the family trusted Zillah with something that nice. She hit the dashboard and turned the key again and again. Dead. Must be her battery. She was always forgetting to turn off the headlights. She'd probably done it again last night and been in too much of a rush this morning to catch it. She pulled out her cellphone, but just as quickly replaced it in her purse. Did she really want anyone to know she'd lost her job? Sure, eventually the news would come out, but she could already see the smug looks of her parents, who never wanted her to take this job in the first place. Her sister Genevieve would laugh and ask if she got to keep her bra and panty specialist certificate, something VS had given Zillah when she completed her training. She had framed it for Zillah like a college diploma and hung it on her wall. Zillah didn't want to tell any of her friends either. The ones she still kept up with were tired of her always needing help for one disaster or another. She was tired of being such a joke to them.

Opening the door, her mind was lost in thought calculating the walk home when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a movement. The dog from the dumpster was moving closer to her. "Stay," she said in as authoritative a voice as she could muster. But the dog paid no heed to her command, continuing in its lanky manner until it stopped at her feet. "I don't have anything for you, buddy. You'd be better off waiting by the front entrance for people leaving the food court." It turned its head in the direction of the food court as if contemplating her words, then seemed to decide it would rather stay with her. "Your loss," she countered, turning to grab her purse and heading towards the sidewalk.