Only the Moon Watching

Chapter 15: I Get a Nickname

I still don't have a pen or paper ("Or oranges!" Shiv reminds me) so I carry my Doritos with me to dinner and hope that I can make a trade.

Grifta and her friends turn their backs on us when we approach them, but Shiv leads the way to the group of girls sitting under the dusty windows.

"This is Tangler, Vapor, Ripper and Needler," she explains. "We used to have a Homer, too, but she got out. And I haven't met anyone who fits the name Nitro, yet, though I'm looking. These are all names from Logan's Run – different kinds of bullets he has in his gun – I christened them. I'm the biggest reader in here, so I get put in charge of nicknames...

"Tangler," Shiv points to the biggest girl, with arms so long they can touch her knees, "is in for assault. She's a brilliant fighter, that one. Vapor and Needler – drug dealers – crack and heroin, you can guess who did what– and Ripper stabbed a girl from neck to navel, opened her right up."

I grimace and Ripper grins back, revealing a smile with both front teeth missing.

"We all knew each other on the out-thide," Ripper lisps. "We stick together in here."

"They're great girls," Shiv promises, even though at least one – maybe two – of them are attempted murderers. (For the first time, I wonder if "Shiv" is a nickname as well?) "We're all stuck in here for a while so it would be smart for you to get to know them, Jos. Except Vapor – what's the prison math on your sentence again?"

A girl with startlingly pale blue, almost white, eyes chimes in: "Eighteen doubled minus a quarter for time served, then I got two months off for good behavior but I had words with Grifta and Girdle thinks I'm the one that put the thumbtack in her cup after, so add four..."

I try and do the math in my head but her timeline doesn't make sense.

"Anyway, I'm out in a few more days, really. If I can keep a cool head about things. My baby won't even know I was missing!"

Vapor's blue-white eyes well up and Shiv changes the subject: "Right, do any of you have paper you'd be willing to trade for? Josephina wants to send a special someone a letter." She winks and waggles her eyebrows.

Tangler, the biggest girl with the beefy arms, gets up from the table with a grunt and disappears into her cell. Ten minutes later, and one bag of Doritos lighter, I've traded for half a spiral notebook and a chewed-up pen.

The first half of the notebook is covered in Tangler's scribbles. Apparently, she's still holding onto some old grudges, and likes to practice writing out comebacks for imaginary arguments. I read a few of the pages, until her horrifically graphic descriptions turn my stomach. (Someone on the outside world made a pass at her boyfriend and Tangler has vowed to turn them inside out and tie their intestines in a bow to get her revenge. I can only hope she isn't one of the girls crushing on Steak, because I would never want to be on the receiving end of one of her punishments.)

I try and force down my dinner while Needler and Shiv discuss oranges. Vapor doesn't drink Pruno – apparently crack was her only vice; she doesn't Juul or smoke weed or drink coffee either ("And don't get me started on sugar," she says, "It's the worst addiction of the 21st century...")– but she hoards more oranges than Shiv does, because when she gets back to the outside world she wants to be a tattoo artist. So do Tangler and Needler.

"First you practice on fruit, then you practice on pig skin, then humans." Needler says. (I don't like the way Ripper is listening. She was ignoring the first half of our conversation, but her ears perked up for "pig skin" and she started grinning crazily when Needler said "humans." The look on her face makes me think she's picturing cutting people open, not just decorating their skin.)

"You're not even allowed needles, Needles." says Shiv. "So what are you practicing with?"
"Stick and poke with my fingernails," she shrugs, "Pens. Paperclips. Thumbtacks. Trying to learn to have a steady hand again. I learned to write amber-dexterously, too. I think someone would let me apprentice if I could use either hand to tattoo, then I could sit anywhere in the shop, even if they only had room for a lefty in the corner, that could be me."

"Industrious," says Shiv, approvingly. "But a bit selfish in the moment. You want to keep these oranges to yourself now, when you've got years on your sentence left to practice? We've got a new cellie tonight! There are dozens of girls who could use a celebration right now! Don't hold out on us, Vapor... Needles...? What do you say, I'll let you draw me as a mermaid..."

("She's always wanting to draw me as a mermaid," Shiv whispers to me. "It's my hair. She wants to use me for tattoo reference one day if we ever get out of here...")

She bats her eyes at Needler, imploringly. "C'mon, let me see your stash, girls. I'll only take a couple oranges, I'll hide 'em in my bra. While I'm doing it you can see my titties! Mermaid titties?" she bats her eyelashes. "Then you'd know how to draw me better... "Smashing!" she says, in an exaggerated accent, as Needler caves and leads Shiv to her cell. Awkwardly, I remain at the table with Tangler, Vapor, and Ripper staring me down.

"Have... any of you read Logan's Run?" I ask, suddenly feeling painfully shy. You could cut the tension between us with a knife (and I bet Tangler and Ripper would love to do it).

Vapor opens up a carton of milk, sticks in a paper straw, and takes a long, slow drag. Her blue-white eyes narrow on me. "I have – does that surprise you?"

"N-no!" I falter. "I didn't mean – I didn't think you didn't read–"

"It's escapism," she explains. "Isn't it? Same as drugs. You can be someone else for two hundred pages. I liked the snowy bits of Logan's Run but not the rest, once I noticed Jessica was just two boobs on legs and not a real character. My name was Jessica, too."

(I find it strange she said was. She's not on drugs anymore – hooked on reading now I guess, but she never went back to being Jessica. She's still Vapor, even when she isn't smoking.)

"Will I get a nickname, you think?" I ask, making uncomfortable eye contact with Ripper who smiles at me with her missing teeth.

"Depends, you gonna talk to Steak?" she asks. (Her lisp makes it sound like "Thake.")
"Shiv wants me to," I say.

The group giggles. "Maybe you won't be Josephina, then. Just Ho."