Rabbit Blood

Chapter 6 - Back Into It

Friday night rolled around, and after the boss paid her out, Leslie examined her check. It was smaller than she wanted. Husk had allowed her to defer payment for the second week until now; after that, she'd have enough to pay back Angel, and then nothing else.

This waitressing gig was abysmal. Abysmal.

There had to be better jobs. She wondered if Mr. Rapier was magnanimous enough to give her a good recommendation if she went looking elsewhere. Almost certainly not.

Leslie did have a unique skill set of her own... if only she could find a way to market herself. Her best chance of doing that seemed to be at the hotel, where extracurriculars were encouraged. A plan began to form in her weary head, even (dare she admit it?) a streak of hope.

First, true to her word, she repaid Angel, for which he was grateful. Then she spent a morning searching the hotel for something that could play music. (Her lessons required music; Leslie could keep time in her head, but the students couldn't be expected to.) There was the jukebox in the bar, but it was far too heavy to move. Besides, she wanted something small and portable, to reduce the risk of theft or destruction.

Plan B involved taking a walk to the East side of the Pentagram to scope out a run-down electronics store. No luck there either. The nicer systems were too expensive; the cheaper ones were most definitely haunted or cursed. Discouraged, and concerned that a HiFi player had spoken her name in the store, Leslie put her idea on the back-burner.

She concentrated instead on virtuously staying fit, rising early each morning to take a jog. Thus a new routine was formed. Yesterday's clothes became her pajamas, and then her workout gear, before they had to be washed and swapped out. Exercising at the crack of dawn had the added benefit of securing her a long, peaceful shower when she returned. It was nice not to worry about impatient demons from the same hallway, banging on the bathroom door.

One morning, midway through her jog, Leslie stopped at a grocer's stall for possessed fruits and vegetables. The store owner was asleep out front, beside a box of thorny cucumbers and fanged lettuce, and he had a small, beaten-up transistor radio resting by his feet.

Leslie stared for a moment, then swooped to pick up the radio. It was a battery-powered thing, probably tinny as hell, but ideal for her purposes. She thought it over. If she woke the man to bargain for this radio, she might not get it. On the other hand, stealing was a sin.

The store owner snored, and that jump-started her brain. Borrowing wasn't a sin! Leslie took off, prancing like a woodland elf. She looked ridiculous, but the combination of stealth and speed ensured that she got away safely. The radio was hers. For now, of course.

Leslie posted a handwritten flyer for dance lessons on a corkboard in the foyer, and she went to the only empty downstairs room, the one full of strewn boxes and cleaning equipment. She flattened the cardboard and shoved everything to one side, and once she'd cleared the space, it was actually quite nice. The walls were divided by trim: wallpaper on top, semi-reflective red tile below. The floor was slip-resistant, but not too much, which was all Leslie cared about.

With half an hour to go, she stretched and did some warm-ups.

The appointed time came and went. No visitors. No curious interlopers. A waste of time. She tried not to take it personally. Perhaps nobody noticed the flyer yet, or it was scheduled too early, or, she tried to tell herself, maybe it was the price that tripped people up.

The next day, she posted a new flyer with bold red lettering. "Introductory offer - your first lesson is free!" After laundry duty, but before work, she went back to the room, warming up and waiting, as before.