The Girl They Sold to the Moon (11 page)

Buddy squeezed through the wall of flesh and hopped up on the table. He glared at the rowdy assembly. “What the hell's going on here?” he demanded and then turned to Tilly. “Fia told me you were going to the park. Looks like I didn't get here soon enough.”

Ordinarily, Tilly would have told Buddy that it was none of his business. This was not one of those times. She heard a husky female voice over the rabble of the men. “I'd like to know what the hell's going on here too!” Candy did not have to push through the crowd. It parted like Moses' Red Sea. Candy brought a foot down on the bench seat. “Just what the fuck do you think you're doing, scum guts? This ain't your carnival.”

A man egged her on. “That's telling the bitch.”

“Not your carnival either,” said Tilly, red-faced.

Candy spit at her feet. “We'll see about that!”

“Yeah, we'll see about that,” said a miner and gave Tilly a brusque shove.

Buddy went after the guy who shoved Tilly, locking his arms around his neck.

Tilly jumped high in the air. She came down on the grass in a crouch. Candy dove at her, getting her hands around her neck, shaking, squeezing. There were no affordable handholds in the fabric of the tight company suits. So Tilly grabbed the other by the hair, yanked forward, head-butting her.

“Cat fight!” The words rang out.

Candy's head rocked back, her eyes crossed. Then she hissed and flailed her arms in a desperate windmill fashion. Tilly reared back, but not before sharp nails racked her face. Meanwhile, Buddy rode one of the miner's backs while the others tried to dislodge him. Then something unexpected happened. Miners began fighting other miners, throwing devastating punches and kicks. Somewhere out of Tilly's sight she heard lumber break.

Candy ran toward Tilly with her fist cocked. Tilly spun around and mule-kicked her in the midriff. The large breasted girl keeled over and dropped to a knee. But when Tilly came in to deliver the knockout punch, Candy gave her an upper cut to the jaw. Tilly's teeth pierced her tongue. Fighting off the pain, she dove on Candy and took her to the ground. They fought there, in a tangle of arms and legs, swapping punches, scratching, gouging eyes.

A short, stout miner picked buddy up and pitched him through the air like a paper glider. He landed on his chest, the wind knocked out of him.

A security patrol didn't arrive for a full five minutes during the worst of the fight. Sting wands and riot shields finally subdued twenty-five men, who'd engaged in an all-out donnybrook. The three wards, Tilly, Candy and Buddy were given on-the-spot first aid. Tilly's tongue bled like an open sluice gate. Staunching it took a strong coagulant. They used alcohol on the face scratches. Candy had two puffy eyes which required cold packs. They treated Buddy for a broken nose and, strangely enough, they had to use pliers to remove wads of beard hair from his teeth.

A security supervisor dismissed half of the men since they had superficial injuries and seemed to be the most cooperative. Which left the seriously injured men, who were the most inebriated and combative. The supervisor stabbed his finger at the remaining participants, who were mostly miners, and said, “How in the hell did this get started?” He waved several broken cigarettes at the men. “I don't even want to talk about
these
, but we'll get to it.”

There came a lot of “she started it” accusations. The supervisor had trouble understanding which
she
had instigated the fight, since the responses were mixed between Candy and Tilly. Half of them declared that Tilly started the brawl because of her jealously toward Candy. The Tilly defenders called Candy a “fat skunt.” When the supervisor asked the miners why they fought each other, they offered no reasonable explanations other than “because” and “I don't know.”

Candy said, “I swear, Sunshine, if I could see you I'd rip your face off.”

Tilly couldn't speak through the wad of cotton in her mouth but she thought,
and if I could use my mouth I'd tear your throat out
, and she willed it with all her mind to sink that image into the brain of that ditsy, no-brained fraud.

“That's enough!” said the supervisor, who then turned to Dorothy for an explanation. But Dorothy hadn't seen what actually prompted the violence, only the lead up to it.

Buddy offered his version. “One of the Dogs put his hands on Tilly Breedlove and threw her into the crowd like a Christian to the lions. Then that Candy what's-her-face started throwing punches.”

The supervisor let out a gale force sigh. “As for you Dogs, you're staying here until we find out who is responsible for the fight and the contraband. As for you three…we'll just let God sort you out.”

“Whoo ithsss Gud?” Tilly slurred.

“Abigail Rogers.”

Chapter 8

The president of the Entertainment and Leisure division paced across the floor, stopped and retraced her steps. Abigail Rogers leveled her eyes like daggers on Tilly, Buddy and Candy.

“I cannot believe the three of you are sitting here,” she said. “I am appalled that wards in my division are capable of causing such anarchy.”

Abigail looked at Buddy. “What's was your part in this?”

Buddy gave Candy a scathing glance. “Defending the honor of a lady, ma'am.”

“Which one?”

“There's only one in this room, ma'am.” He quickly added, “I mean, two, counting you, ma'am.”

If Tilly's mouth had worked properly she would have kissed Buddy right then and there. Right now, the bandage would not allow it.

“Just point, then,” said Abigail.

Buddy pointed to Tilly. “She's innocent. I saw the whole thing.”

“You couldn't have seen the whole thing,” huffed Abigail, “when you were fighting right along with them. Perhaps you took pictures?” Her voice rose with sarcasm. “From one of the many hand-held personal cameras found broken and scattered on the ground?”

“I don't own a personal camera. The Dogs were taking pictures of Candy.”

“Then you were just fighting. Defending Tilly's honor. It might have had nothing to do with you, but you thought that your assistance was needed.”

“I guess so.”

Candy tried to keep her face pointed toward the sound of Abigail's shoe strikes, since she sat at the far end of the room, her eyes swollen to slits.

Abigail stopped and whirled on Candy. “Miss Evans, you look like a god damned raccoon. Of the three of you here, you have seniority. You should have known better. One question: Why?”

“She's been harassing me and spreading rumors, Ms. Rogers.”

“One does not attack another with the intent to kill over such trifles. You could have come to me with the complaint. I want the real reason.”

“Okay, she put burn cream in my twaddle, Ms. Rogers.”

Abigail titled her head. “
Did
she? And what finger did she use to accomplish this?”

“Well, it wasn't a finger thing but a…uh.”

“But a
what
?” Abigail pressed.

“I don't know when or how she did it, but I just know she did. It happened months ago.”

“You
just
know…and am I supposed to
just know
and take that as concrete evidence? I'll tell you what I do know. I've seen the security tapes. You were the one who marched over to engage Miss Breedlove in a confrontation. Would you like me to roll the video?”

“Uh, no, but she taunted me and flipped me the three-finger!”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Don't stretch it any further, kiddo. You don't have the elasticity.”

Tilly couldn't help the grin that rose from the corner of her mouth. But it vanished when Abigail's eyes turned on her like laser beams.

“Yes, Ms. Breedlove, it is best to wipe that smile from your face. So I assume that you are completely without fault in this?”

Tilly swallowed hard, tried to work her tongue and get the words out. “Ahm laff da blame.”

“Can you tell me, Miss Breedlove? Or would you prefer to answer in semi four, sign language or crayon notes?”

Tilly held her palms out in submission, unable to explain the circumstances.

“I see.” Abigail faced the large Tranquility Harbor map on the wall and shook her head. She removed her glasses, polished them with the end of her blouse. She pivoted around, glaring.

“We have two headliners here,” Abigail went on, “one who cannot sing now as a result of an injury, and another one who is so blind she can't see to place one foot in front of the other. Song and dance—that is the business we're in, and if we cannot do either then we are not a business because we don't make any money for the
Entertainment and Leisure
division.”

“If you won't' be needing me anymore,” said Buddy, “maybe I should go to my dormitory?”

Abigail looked at Buddy sideways. “I've considered not needing you anymore. Permanently. You'll sit through this and witness the outcome.” She turned on Tilly. “I'm very surprised at you. You know I have an open door policy. Yes or no question: did you consider contacting me before this escalated into what it has become?”

Tilly shook her head.

“All right, that's evident. The question is what's to be done. This far surpasses any demerit slips. I have the unique position of figuring out how to levy a punishment without losing the company income. This has happened before, but the violators were not lucrative tickets. An object lesson has to be made of this, since the entire complex, from the outside ring to the core, knows what happened. You made front page in the company news web.”

“I'd like to ask for mercy at this time, if I could,” said Candy. “If not, I would like to demand an arbitration hearing.”

“You are in no position to demand anything at the moment,” said Abigail. “Arbitration costs funds, and you'll not be allowed to draw those resources from this company. You've forced me to make examples out of you. Therefore, your mail will be withheld for sixty days. Your commissary allotment will be cut by 50 percent. Your job title statuses of headline entertainers are forfeited for sixty days. You will relinquish all of your tip pool savings to pay the damages incurred and medical expenses for injuries.”

“Are we confined to quarters, then, ma'am?” asked Candy, a whine beginning to rise in her voice.

“No, you're going to work. As soon as you are released by your doctor, you'll join the swing shift crew in the kitchen, working the scullery line. Sixty days.”

Candy stood up, wobbling. “You can't just rip my title from me like that and take all my savings!”

“You've pretty much had it your way since you've been here, Miss Evans. With all the breaks and favors, your ascension to the top was more of a slither than a climb. I shudder to think what counselors and supervisors you've slept with to gain that status. Oh, I've heard the rumors, and we're just now looking into the claims.” She paused for the effect. “This is not negotiable. The Dogs are not within my jurisdiction. The three of you are.”

“Haven't you made some kind of mistake?” Candy pleaded. “Entertainment and Leisure is supposed to make money for United Western Mining. If you take me off the stage you'll lose thousands upon thousands. There might even be riots and protests.”

Abigail Rogers did not flinch. “Oh, we won't lose the major cash draw resulting from your lack of appearances. We'll suffer only a slight drop in attendance. You'll be working two jobs—one real, one virtual.”

“I don't understand,” said Candy. “If I'm a ramp rat, how am I going to entertain my fans?”

Tilly didn't have a firm grasp on the analogy of the statement either. Unless they were going to being working two jobs on different shifts. Buddy looked like he had lost the thread of the topic two sentences ago.

“Never mind how you'll be filling two positions at once. It's just one of my contingency plans, in case something like this ever happened. That is why I'm president of Entertainment and Leisure and you are not. You are dismissed.”

Buddy stood up. “Uh, what about me?”

“You stay. I'm not finished with you yet.”

Tilly rose to her feet and waited until Candy left the office. She gave Buddy a subtle thumbs up gesture and then walked out. A small crowd had gathered outside, friends and fans of both girls. A few booed and hissed at her. Candy and her entourage hurried down the corridor. Fia and Sue Lin smiled when they saw Tilly. Dorothy linked arms with her and the four walked down the corridor in a tight group. Tilly, trying to speak over a stitched and swollen tongue, explained about the sixty-day suspension, along with the other conditions and reprimands. It took her forever to get the words out.

Sue Lin reacted first. “Busting you down like that meant a serious reprimand. How do they expect to make up the lost revenue?”

“That's what I don't understand,” said Fia. “They emptied your savings, but what's this about working you virtually? I dunno, maybe it's best this happened. Tilly could use a break from all the glitz and attention.”

Dorothy looked at Fia. “Girl, there is no
best
on the scullery line. The first thing to go is your wrists, then your fingers, if you don't get them cut off in the machinery. Then your lower back gets to squeaking like a rusty gate. I'm sorry. That wasn't very positive, was it?”

“That which does not kill you makes you stronger,” said Fia. “Although she's pretty fit as it is, it might be a challenge. At least that's the positive way to look at it. She'll get her entertainment status back at the end of the suspension period.”

Speaking of her in the third person felt disconcerting. Tilly thought of Buddy, wondering how severely his punishment would be. He didn't have to involve himself in the scuffle. Yet he had done just that, risking his job status. She never expected to have such feelings for him. Yet now, he'd made a lasting impression upon her and she couldn't shake some intimate feelings for him that continued to blossom.
He couldn't have gotten that far under my skin.
But she knew the answer to that.

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