Chapter 3: - Decisions
By Dinner
It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped.
- Tony Robbins
~-/-~
There are things about being a parent Ginger valued more than the life she lived. There was a love that awakened deep inside of her for those little bags of flesh she had birthed. Ginger had never experienced love like that. She was a child of the system with caregivers that had been strict and orderly, not loving.
Unlike her they didn't sit next to their child until it fell asleep. And unlike her they didn't reminisce on days long past while holding their child's hand just so they knew she was safe.
So when Ginger turned fifteen and someone gave her the attention she never knew she needed so much, she gave that man her all. It was the kind of romance only written about in books. It was back in the late forties, the war had just ended and she decided to slip out, as she had done only a few times before, so she could visit the bars where the sailors and army men gathered to drink their sorrow and mishaps away.
As Giant Gerro opened the bar's door for her she thanked him. He was tall and she had to roll her eyes all the way up just so she could see his face. She didn't comment on the bits and pieces in his moustache, or the hairs growing out of his nose, she simply entered the pub and let her eyes drink in all the exciting things that were happening.
There were men and women and they were playing games. Not all of them with cards or dice, some games; or so had she learned from Rita; were played by slowly caressing your legs or collarbone. And she saw many a whore playing that game like they had stacked the deck.
She knew she wasn't much to look at. Her chest was humble where theirs were not, and her hips didn't sway with the elegance that came from years of practice. But she couldn't help trying to emulate the movements. She wanted to be like them - they were loved, they were beautiful.
So she walked to the bar and tried her best to make her bony hips sway like theirs did. Perhaps if she could do that, just maybe she could… Well, she wasn't sure what it would help her get. But the whores looked happy. Maybe it would make her happy too?
She had been sitting at the bar, her red hair curled and her lips as red as the cherries she had crushed to make the lipstick. She was known as Little Doll back then, virgin in more than one way, she didn't drink, but all the boys and men got drunk on her presence. Not that she noticed their stares, she was too busy practicing the game.
A young man, perhaps twenty-three, clad in white pulled up a seat next to her. "A pretty girl like you, what are you doing around these cretins?" he had asked, his lips thinning with a smile.
The game was stacked and Ginger never stood any chance after she first kissed him with her cherry tipped lips and later, later Steven had her other cherry. That night behind the dumpster on some cardboard scraps in the back alley, they did what their bodies were made for. He promised her eternal love, affection and attention. They talked after they made love. It had been dirty, but gentle, and they both agreed it had been good.
Steven had warm hands. He took her hands in his and promised to come back the next day. It was the first time Ginger had ever looked forward to waking up the next morning.
Though that evening felt like a night in the movies, it never truly got its happy ending, because before the credits rolled the script was rewritten.
For the night that Ginger (or as she was called by her caregivers, "Louisa") came back home, the lights came on as she entered the house. There, in the middle of the room in her stately arm-chair sat Mother Superior. Her face read murder. She was grounded for every day she'd been alive, twice.
"You won't leave this house until you've prayed your sins away." Mother Superior had said after Louisa had been spanked raw.
The next night Steven sat in the bar and Ginger didn't show. He met the love of his life instead, the woman that he'd get two sons and a daughter with. Ginger never saw him again, but she remembered that magical night, how a man dressed in white swept her off her feet and made her feel loved.
If you asked Mother Superior about decision making,
she would say that no decision that is made
is without its consequences.
~-/-~
It was a warm morning, the rain from earlier that night still filled the atmosphere. Though it was no longer raining, the air was filled with water, and the humidity was almost as thick as the third peanut butter and jelly sandwich Renée was about to eat. It was warm, summer and early. For Renée and Ginger that meant eating breakfast on the balcony.
The balcony was more of a platform that Ginger had put chicken wire around, but for early morning cloud watching it was the best place in the entire apartment building.
They had moved out of the motel a good year and a half ago. Ginger had found a small apartment and with a lot of love and care she made it into the humble home it was today. The kitchen was decorated with yellow sunflowers she had painted on the ceramic tiles. The sunflowers' leaves hid the cracks, and the yellow made the kitchen glow in the early light of dawn.
"Can I have another peanut butter and jelly?" Renée asked, her feet hanging over the balcony. There wasn't much space between the chicken fence and the concrete floor of the "balcony" but Renée's legs fit, even if the steel wire left its imprint on her skin when she sat like that long enough.
Life wasn't bad. It wasn't great either, but Ginger had done a lot with the little she had. Renée could appreciate that, and she was thankful for it. Though to be honest, after his kidnapping, things had never completely felt the same again.
"Thanks Mom." Renée grabbed the jelly filled folded slice bread greedily. Things might not be perfect, but it wasn't all bad.
Ginger was drinking her coffee, and no, Renée wasn't allowed to have any, and for a moment that was the picture Ginger would remember as one of her happiest moments; Renée and Ginger, having breakfast while watching the sun come up over the St. Louis Cathedral in the distance.
"I have a job interview later today. So I asked for Mrs. La Velle to let you stay with her until I come back."
Renée quickly swallowed the piece of bread and jelly. "That's nice Mom! What kind of job?"
"There's a diner just a few blocks from here, and they're searching for a waitress."
"A waitress." Renée seemed to taste the words on her lips. "Does that mean you'd have to work at night?"
Putting the cup of coffee between her feet, Ginger ran her hand through Renée's hair. "Maybe, but there are upsides as well. It means we could have little meatballs every Sunday."
"I hope you get the job," Renée decided, and Ginger chuckled. "Not just for the meatballs… other things too."
They finished their morning ritual by feeding the pigeons the crumbs they had left. And after dropping Renée off at Mrs la Velle's, Ginger went to Laura's.
Now one thing everyone knew about Laura was that she liked fancy things. Fancy cars, fancy clothing, fancy plates, fancy carpet - fancy everything. The thing not many people knew was that Laura paid for these fancy things by escorting rich men to fancy dinners and galas. Of course the ladies in the neighbourhood gossiped about where she got her money from, but their bits of insight differed greatly.
Mrs Venier, who lived two doors down the street, offered an explanation - she was sure that Laura must've inherited a lot of money through a dead relative. Mr Venier vehemently disagreed - he believed in alchemy and was sure the golden necklaces Laura was never seen without were created by her philosopher's stone.
Their good friend, and sometimes swing partner, the both Ms. and Mr. Elie Smith, declared both Venier's a few screws short of a hardware store. Surely Laura didn't pay for her fancy things, because she was a kleptomaniac. After all, she had seen Laura steal the very earrings she had left on the table when she had been invited over last thanksgiving.
Ginger didn't care about these rumours. She liked Laura, looked up to her even. The pretty hair, long fake nails and impressive bosom, well, she considered Laura the epitome of beautiful. She looked like a tall Dolly Parton. And she was friendly.
"Oh sorry you had to knock sweety, the doorbell fell off last week, and sweet Robbie hasn't had the time to fix the string. And well, you understand that with these beauties" Laura click-clacked her nails and showed them off to Ginger. "-I can't do something as risky as handy work."
"Mornin' Laura." Ginger closed the door behind her and gave Laura two kisses on the cheeks.
"Well good morning to you too!" Laura walked on heels that were obviously a few centimeters too high as her ankles, with each step, came close to twisting. "Come, come, and look what Edward gave me last night." She stopped once she reached a table with a drawer in it. "Yes, Chère, I understand you looking dumbstruck, these are rubies."
"Laura, they're… beautiful."
"I know. They look nice on me, don't they?" Laura swept her hair back and held them in front of her ears.
"They do."
"Vomment ca vas? Did something happen?" Laura's smile, the one she had worn ever since Ginger had stepped a foot inside turned into a worried one.
Ginger fumbled her fingers and looked away, her eyes catching her own reflection in the mirror across the living room. "Well Gingie? Spit it out Chère, or you'll turn sour."
Ginger looked back, a nervous smile on her lips. "I've got a job interview at the Diner today."
"And you went out looking like this?" Laura's hands went up and down, at least twice. "Chère, you pauvre bête. It's a good thing you came by me first."
What followed was an hour of powdering, dress fittings, "oohs" and "Aahs" and a lot of giggling. In the end Ginger looked at herself in the same mirror as before, and she saw someone else looking back. Gone were the dark blues under her eyes, and gone were the cracked dry lips. What looked back was something she hadn't seen in a long time. Her hair was curled in the same way as Laura's, her skin looked fair and her lips were cherry-red.
"I."
"You!" Laura grabbed her by the shoulders, excited about her long-time friend seeking greener pastures, "are a sight to behold, Gorgeous! But something is missing. Ah, I know just the thing." Laura hurried away and came back holding up two red ruby earrings. "Yes, perfect."
"I… You didn't have- I mean, Thank you."
"Well, we all deserve to look like our best sometimes, non?" Laura's voice was deeper when she said that. "Now go have your job interview, make them want you, and make your daughter proud."
Ginger left, on heels too high and ankles ready to twist, for her job interview.
If you asked Laura about making decisions,
she'd tell you that decisions are like dresses,
every dress is pretty but not every dress looks pretty on you.
~-/-~
Vicky's Diner had opened in the late thirties, back then Vicky had already stopped her monthly bleeding, yes she was that old, but no one dared to say her age to her face. It was a place that everyone in their Quarter of New Orleans knew and visited regularly. And though the years had slowly taken their toll on the building the Diner called its own, people still came for Vicky's homemade Gumbo.
But just like the building, Vicky was getting older, and managing the Diner all on her own was getting difficult. Sweeping the floors took longer than it used to, and with her hearing slowly getting worse, soon she wouldn't hear what Old Ernie ordered no matter how hard he yelled it.
So last week she asked Little Anya, the girl that came every Thursday for a sundae swirl, to put up some flyers that said she was seeking help at the diner. To her surprise more than a dozen girls responded, the last of which should've been there by now.
Vicky wasn't one for waiting. Her father didn't wait on her excuses before he took the stress of the day out on her. Her mother didn't wait for her to shower before sending her to school, so she had learned the hard way that making people wait was a waste of time. And that was how she ran this Diner. Swiftly.
A cuppa coffee, ready in twenty-five seconds. You want a bagel? It's already baked. That was why people liked her Diner, why she always ended her night with a full register.
So when her last interviewee came in with a pair of heels in her hands, sweat on her forehead and an excuse on her lips she was swift to say. "No."
"Oh, pardon me, ma'am. I'm sorry, but, please I came a' quickly a' I could." The redhead offered, straightening her dress and wiping the sweat away with a handkerchief.
Vicky grabbed the pot of coffee and poured a cup full. There was something about the girl, something that reminded her of herself. Perhaps under all that makeup and glitter- "You got one chance girl, come. Sit." The cup of coffee was quickly pushed forward.
Ginger sat in the seat opposite of the countertop where Vicky was standing.
"So Chère, you got a name?"
"Ginger, ma'am."
An eyebrow raised, arms folded and a snort left Vicky in reaction. "Your real name, petite."
Ginger seemed taken aback, putting the cup that had been halfway to her mouth back on the countertop. She opened her mouth and closed it, Vicky was sure she was trying to impersonate a fish, until the girl came to a decision. "Just Ginger, ma'am."
"Well, just Ginger. Can you make an egg?"
A little smile danced on Ginger's lips "How would you like it? Sunny side up or scrambled?"
The redhead gained confidence at Vicky's reaction, the towel she had held in her hand was slapped over her shoulder. "Pshaw! So, Ginger, what makes you better for this job than the ten other girls that I've already talked to, that were on time and came in wearing footwear?"
Ginger lost the confidence she had gained by making the older woman laugh.
Back came all the insecurities, she wasn't better equipped for this job… Those other girls could probably do things better than she could, she was just an addicted whore that needed to provide for her little girl.
"I've got childre- a child. And I need this job. Pretty soon winter will come and I want her to have a coat to keep her warm. Or a blanket to lay over her at night. I don't know about the other girls that want this job. They're probably smarter or prettier than I am, but I want it more. I'll work harder, longer. I'll come earlier and try my hardest every day."
Vicky seemed to take her time after that and actually started doing the dishes.
"The Diner opens at eleven but you need to be here at nine and start with passing the broom. You'll stay until after rush hour, which is seven in the evening. You'll clean, you'll pour the coffee and you pour it quickly, you bake the bagels and take the orders. If you do this well enough for a week, starting tomorrow the job is yours."
Ginger's eyes were wider than they'd ever been. "Ma'am, thank you, thank you. I will be here at nine."
"And you'll put on some normal flats, and take off those hideous nails, they'll only get in the way." Vicky stretched out her arm to finish the deal. "Welcome at the Diner, Ginger."
Ginger greedily shook Vicky's hand. "Why'd you pick me?"
"The other couyons that came for an interview were as dumb as a cow's end. And you got people skills, don't ya kid?"
All Ginger could do was smile. Maybe things were going to turn around for the better?
If you asked Vicky about making decisions,
she'd tell you to make them swiftly
lest the decision is made for you.
~-/-~
Mrs. La Velle kind of smelled, at least according to Renée's nose. It wasn't just Mrs. La Velle herself that smelled, it were the thirteen chinchilla's (Simon, James, John, Andrew, Philip, Jésus, Thomas, Bart, Matt, other James, Other Simon, Thaddy and Judas), two rabbits (Tilly and Billy) and nineteen cats, which for the life of her Renée couldn't remember the names of.
Renée didn't dislike having to stay at Mrs. La Velles' home, she liked the animals. She even liked the old lady herself. But time spent at that house could feel so much like wasting time. She had set herself a goal, she had a brother to find. A family to protect.
Ginger was safe and secure, nothing bad would happen to her. She was even getting a normal job, or at least she had been trying to.
It hadn't been easy to know the woman that had birthed you couldn't tell you the name of your father. But according to Ginger her father was part of the navy.
That was nice.
Somehow, while thinking, Renée had ended up with two cats in her lap and one cat trying to climb up her back. She wondered if Remy had any pets? Maybe he was allergic to them, maybe he had a pet lizard named Izzy, maybe… maybe…
She wiped away the wetness from her cheeks.
Lot's of good the word 'maybe' did her.
Maybe he was dead?
Maybe he was being abused this very moment… he could be screaming for help. And she was sitting here petting her cats being happy that her biological mother was trying to get a job!
"Ow! That hurts!" she yelled shaking the cat that was trying to perch on her head by using its nails as cat wasn't having any of it and dug her nails even further into her scalp, trying to balance on top of her. "You wretched animal! Let go." she cursed, lifting her hands up and…
The cat jumped off, taking a good few paws full of hair with it. By now the tears in her eyes weren't just because of… but also because of that cat. Ah, now she remembered its name. "I'll get you back Tora!" She promised, her hand balled into a fist, fiercely shaking.
"Is something wrong Renée?"
"No Mrs. La Velle."
"Ah, it seems we have run out of milk. Here's a quarter. Would you be a dear and buy a bottle of milk at the Market Basket?" Mrs. La Velle got close to Renée and she had to hold her breath for, five, four 'take the quarter' three, two 'back away and smile' one.
"Of course I will." She said before sharply exhaling.
"Ah, yes, your sweet mother be praised, she surely raised a fine little girl. Use the change to buy yourself some sweets."
Renée nodded, slowly making her way, evading cats and chinchilla's. By the time she reached the door she had done enough ninja training for the day, perhaps being here wasn't so useless after all?
Walking outside, Renée knew she was the odd duckling out. Though by now the grownups knew who she was and that her eyes... Well they were just weird, nothing scary, nothing demonic, just weird.
So as she walked the street she greeted the whale of a man that went by the name Mr Berkley, he was her neighbour, but he lived across from her, in one of the manors with a porch, it looked fancy; but the wooden pillars were slowly rotting.
She had visited his house a few times, his wife was as thin as he was big and where he was cursed with boobs she was cursed with a flat chest. But what the Berkleys lacked in body they made up with personality. Mr. Berkley could crack a joke about pretty much anything and anyone and Mrs Berkley was so sweet Renée was surprised she didn't sweeten her tea with her finger.
Certainly there was something wrong with them, something suspicious or malicious, maybe they killed puppies during the sabbath, or drowned kittens when they went picnicking on sundays, the baskets Mrs Berkley carried were awfully big… But so far Renée only had her suspicions.
As she walked on, she waved to Sister Mary-Clarence, one of the nuns of the monastery just across the hill. She received a full smile and wave back. Sister Mary-Clarence had actually been the one that had helped Ginger to get the apartment they lived in now. The church had kindly donated the money and space she'd needed until she could get back on to her own feet.
Just thinking about the kind of charity they had received... It meant they had to give back to this community as well. And so they had, Ginger had taken her with her to help in the public gardens and Renée had more than once taken some of the ripe strawberries and eaten them instead of putting them in the basket.
By the time she had reached the store she must've greeted and waved a good dozen people.
Though it wasn't Konoha by a long shot, she actually kind of liked it here. The neighbourhood felt homely and the people were nice, even though some could get kind of weird, or maybe that was just her. She did have a skewed sense of what normal meant.
After picking up the milk and two overwhelmingly sour liquorice sticks, Renée made her way back. School was out; children dressed in different shades of blue were running around. The boys wearing their summer shorts and the girls their short dresses that ended just under their knees.
She recognized some of them. There was Nathan, a boy just eight years old that was actually Mrs La Velle's nephew, she'd seen him come over a few times. Though he was a smart boy he was hard to understand sometimes because his front teeth had, just days ago, fallen out. So he had a lisp, asking him yes or no questions was a riot though, he got so bashful when he had to say yes.
Just a little behind Nathan skidded Julia with her best friend Gill, short for Guiliani, which was short for pain in the ass. Gill was the popular girl, her father owned the barber shop, and knew every person of importance in this Quarter of the city, Gill flaunted her status as the connected queen bee all too gladly. Little did she know that her father would probably soon lose his shop as the state was trying to remodel the plaza it was proudly heading. Julia on the other hand, well she was just the kindest girl, and Nathan had a crush on her the size of the Empire State Building.
But today she wouldn't be teasing them about it, she had milk and sweets to bring back, so instead of waving and chatting with the kids she hurried back home.
~-/-~
Just when she rounded the last corner she saw the shadow of a pebble being thrown directly at her, it would miss, she had calculated that quickly enough, still she ducked; better safe than sorry.
The pebble fell to the ground a bit further ahead, but she didn't look that way, she looked back; someone had thrown it. "Oh look, it's black-eye. Did your deadbeat mommy hit you? Or are you just that ugly?"
It was a child's' taunt, it shouldn't mean anything, shouldn't hit or hurt. But somewhere it did. But Renée bit her tongue and stayed silent; nothing worse than indifference. She turned back around and decided to just walk away, this wasn't worth her time.
But soon as she did, not one but two shadows quickly raced at her. Again pebbles missed and landed a few feet away from her. Renée turned around, and just for a moment considered acting, but seeing their chubby cheeks, and vacant unintelligent stares she thought better of herself and knew they were already worse off than her.
"Oh, look at that boys! La p'tit catin can't do nothin', she's just so scared!"
And then milk was slowly put on the ground, liquorice was carefully put in her pocket and Renée turned around. "I see."
Of the three boys that had followed her it was obviously the boy in the middle that had taken charge. In the back of her mind tactics that should've been long forgotten or otherwise not be misused on civi's came back to the forefront.
The boys were laughing now, pebbles ready in their hand. "Oh, that's a good one! That's a good one boys. Blackie can see!"
"Yeah, Blackie!" the boy to the left repeated. Renée knew this boy, although knew was a big word… she knew his family, Sister Mary-Clarence's Brother in law had two sisters, and this was the oldest sister's' youngest son. Obviously not every apple from the family tree was edible.
She knew her voice didn't hold much authority, it was more of a squeak than anything, but she knew the power of intent and if she could make them feel that to her they were nothing but a waste of air… Well that wouldn't be too bad. "Oh wow, you must be the smart one, having these two little boys back you up, what did you do for them, bake cookies? Promise to change their diapers?" The boys on both sides seemed almost eager to rise to her bait. "Oh no, I see just like my deadbeat mother you spread your legs for them."
Ok, so perhaps this wasn't her proudest moment, but… they had started it, and she had been tense all day. And it was three on one, and who would believe a three-year-old girl had beaten three big tough boys? They didn't even have a bruise on them, other than the ones on their ego. And well, teeth fell out all the time at their age…
"Surely it wasn't 'La p'tit catin' that pulled it straight out of your foul mouth." Renée threw the little white tooth next to the boy. "You really should be nicer to little girls."
She was about to grab her milk when she turned one last time. "And if you ever insult my mom again. I'll. tell. yours."
By the time she was back in Mrs La Velle's apartment the first of the two liquorice sticks was halfway done. "I've brought the milk!" she chirped happily.
"Oh, good, chére. Did you have any problems?"
"Oh just some loose pebbles, but I've put them back in their place."
If you asked Renée about making decisions,
she'd tell you to prioritize, family comes first,
it makes decisions much easier.
