William Rose - The Seven Habits

And, damn, it was dark down there, man. I basically had to focus on these rectangular slices of light from where the glow of the city filtered through the drains and walk until I’d reached one. I’d peer out through the drain, try to figure out where the fuck I was from a very limited view, and then make my way to the next one.

I musta been down in those sewers for close to forty-five minutes, man., but eventually I figured I was pretty close to Price Square and should get topside again. I was startin’ to feel lightheaded and my heart was just pattering away in my chest. At the same time, it seemed like it was gettin’ harder and harder to form a complete thought. I didn’t know if this was from my head injury or from breathin’ in clouds of methane… but, either way, I didn’t like the options. If I passed out down there, man, I probably woulda drowned in raw sewage. They woulda found my body pressed against the grating at the treatment plant and it would been all she wrote for ‘ole Bosley Coughlin.

I ended up scaring the hell outta this group of Asian kids when I popped that manhole cover and pulled my sorry ass back onto the streets. This was over by the public library. Not that small annex over on 32nd, but the main one that has that fountain going at all hours of the day. You better believe I headed straight for those gurgling cascades of water, man. I stood under that sculpture of a cherub with the stream comin’ outta the cask tucked beneath his arm while all the muck that had coated me tainted the water brown.

After I thought I’d washed most of the shit off of me—and I’m being literal there—I made my way to New Horizons. It’s this little shelter about a block or so away from Price Square, see? They took me in, bandaged my head, put some hot food in my belly, gave me a pocket-sized Bible, and put me up in a cot for the night. You better believe that laying down never felt so good. Every muscle in my body ached and even though I’d had a bath of sorts in the fountain, I could still smell the lingering stench of sewage in my nose. I kept thinkin’ about how none of this ever woulda happened if I’d just listened to Steel, ya know? I mean, the dude may be something of a prick, but when it comes to this underworld stuff, he really knows his business.

Now, I’d be lying if I tried to say that I wasn’t also thinkin’ about Clarice fuckin’ Hudson, man. While I listened to the street people snore and mutter all around me, I kinda replayed the entire scene over in my mind. Not the chase or the attack, but those brief moments in the mall when I’d actually found myself feeling sorry for her. When we stood there facing each other like two opposing generals who’d realized the enemy wasn’t quite the monster propaganda made them out to be.

And, as I pulled that scratchy blanket up to my chin, I made a promise to myself—I would never underestimate that bitch again.

Ocean could feel Corduroy’s gaze like a hot coal on the back of her neck. He was seated at the table in the main chamber, leaning back in the chair as if he had nothing better to do than watch her pace back and forth, Baby crying on her shoulder. She tried to make sure she was behind the wall of the nursery as much as possible, away from his line of sight. Even then she knew he was still out there, sitting at that damn table like some sort of sentinel.

He knows I was there, somehow he knows, I can just tell.

Baby’s screeches made her eardrums feel as if they were about to shatter so she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet while rubbing his back gently. She closed her eyes and tried to sing to him, but her mind kept returning to the night before and she stumbled over the words.

The door with the barred window. The little room beyond, newspapers wadded into tight little balls and…

“Shhh… it’s okay, Baby. It’s okay, honey.”

Somehow, Ocean felt more like she was talking to herself than the squirming child pressed against her body. She wanted so badly to just forget everything that had happened since last night, to pretend that it had all been a dream. But how could she? Even if she could somehow push Corduroy’s attack to the back of her mind, did she really believe she’d be able to forget that she’d seen behind the forbidden door? And what did it all mean anyway? Why exactly was there a—

Someone was in the room with her. It wasn’t so much that she heard him, it was more like a cold shadow had fallen across her skin, coaxing the bumps beneath the fine hairs on her arms.

Her eyes snapped open and she froze in place for a moment, entirely forgetting the wailing infant in her arms. At the same time, her breath caught in her throat with a sharp gasp and the walls of the room seemed to press in around her.

Corduroy stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. The scarred and twisted flesh of his face was stretched as much as it could be into a tight lipped frown and something about his posture made it seem as though he were purposely blocking the entrance, cutting off her only means of escape.

“We need to talk.” His voice was low and raspy, almost inaudible beneath the warbling cries of the baby. Yet somehow the words still had the power to make Ocean shift her gaze to the floor, as if she’d discovered something of intense interest on the tip of the black slippers Levi had given her.

“I gotta… I have to tend to Baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, he won’t stop crying and I’ve tried—”

“That kid’s the least of your worries.”

Ocean felt as though her entire body had just been doused in freezing water. He really does know, how does he know? Did I leave some kind of clue?

Corduroy stepped closer to her and Ocean involuntarily took a step backward. Her back was now pressed tightly against the wall and she felt slightly dizzy, torn between the desire to cry and run.

“In fact, I wouldn’t plan on gettin’ too attached to him if I was you.”

She glanced up for a fraction of a second and then found herself scanning the room as if a doorway through which she could flee might magically appear. The nursery was so small, no bigger than the interior of the car she used to sleep in really. Even if some sort of escape route did present itself, Corduroy would have no problem blocking her way with a simple sidestep.

“I wouldn’t plan on gettin’ too attached to anyone .”

The words hung in the air like a thinly veiled threat, and the trembling which wracked Ocean’s body punctuated Baby’s weeping with a slight vibrato. She was trapped, and that disgusting rotter of a man was so close now that she imagined she could almost smell the ghost of charred flesh.

“Cord! This latrine isn’t going to dig itself.” Gauge’s voice boomed out from somewhere beyond the nursery and Ocean finally found the strength to look her accuser directly in the eye. She wanted to appear defiant and challenging, to convey with a gaze that she wasn’t afraid of any punishment they could possibly dole out. But, at the same time, the thought of never being able to see Gauge again, of not hearing his laugh or feeling the warmth of his hand on her bare shoulder, caused her to feel as though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Her vision wavered through a cascade of tears, but she tried to stand as straight and tall as possible.

“Corduroy!”

The older man angled his head slightly and called back over his shoulder. “Keep your pants on… I’m comin’.”

He took a final, long glance at Ocean and jabbed his finger toward her. “This conversation isn’t over, girl.” And, just like that, he was gone.

Ocean tried calming Baby, but it was as if the infant could sense the tension that pinched at the girl’s neck and shoulders. After what felt like hours, Levi came into the nursery with the offer of taking the little boy off her hands, if she’d help the men with the latrine. Torn between the fear of what Corduroy had told Gauge and the dull ache that throbbed in her head from Baby’s incessant crying, Ocean finally relented. She relinquished the little bundle into Levi’s arms and trudged out of the room.