ACT TWO
Scene Twenty-seven:
"Shatter"
The scissors gates over the storefront windows were locked, but the scissor gate over the entrance was partially open.
Inside Doc's, the disheveled Jets quietly sat and stood all around the shop; shock giving way to a sharp, scary, unfamiliar grief that set them all on edge.
Claggor sat on a chair facing backward, his legs straddling the seat, his body leaning over the back rest. His hand in his curly hair as he stared at the floor.
Baby John sat apart from the other Jets, pulled into himself. Tessa sat next to him, unsure of what to do.
Roe sat at a table, head in her hands, sobbing. Her green and red beaded bracelet was unwrapped and laid fully out on the table in front of her. She held it tightly in her hand, a white medallion dangling at the end. It was a rosary.
Her friend, Velma sat with her, stroking her back.
Roe looked up, her eyes red, her make-up messy, and turned to Deckard, who was stationed at the top of the stairs to the basement.
"I wanna go see her," she said, tearfully, "Talk to her."
He shook his head. "Vi just wants to be alone right now, she don't want to see us," he answered. But a part of him wasn't sure if that was true.
"She ain't alone," said Mylo, leaning against a wall. "The old woman is down there with her." It wasn't clear if he meant that to be comforting or insulting.
"Does she know we're up here?" Velma asked, "All of us?"
"Does she know I'm here?" Roe wept, "Vi cared about me once."
Deckard shook his head, half sympathetic. "She don't want to see you, Roe. Go home."
"We left her lying there…" Claggor spoke up.
Everyone froze at this, looking to him.
"…in the salt shed," he said, his lips quivering, running a hand through his hair, his face getting red as he started weeping in his chair.
"I know," Mylo answered calmly, coming closer to pat his arm.
Claggor shook his head at the floor, covering his face. "It bothers me."
Deckard nodded, biting his lip. "Bothers me too, Clag."
"She ain't there anymore," a new voice said.
Everyone spun around. Ekko was standing at the back of the store, coming around the counter.
"Jesus Christ!" Action complained with a gasp.
"Where'd you come from?" Deckard snapped.
Ekko scowled. "Down the chimney like Santa Claus." Getting serious, he stepped forward. "What's Vi gonna do?" he asked.
Ekko took a couple steps toward the basement door, but Mylo put his hand up, pressing the door as Ekko reached for the handle.
"Go pop yourself, ya blister," the teen scowled in reply, not forgetting their unfinished score.
Stepping back, Ekko rolled his eyes and turned to Deckard. "How long 's she figure on holing up down there?"
Everyone looked to Deckard. Baby John stood, moving toward him.
"Till the heat dies down," Deckard said.
"When is that gonna happen?" Baby John asked Ekko.
Ekko saw everyone was watching him. He sighed, "Two guys died, so… never ever."
Another heaviness settled over the teens. This wouldn't go away. This would haunt them for the rest of their lives.
In the silence, Ekko spoke up.
"Jayce's friend, Viktor… He has Jinx's gun."
Everyone shifted backward at the weight of this news. Big Deal put his hands on his head. "Aw, Jesus."
Ekko continued, "And he's hunting for Vi."
Mouthpiece asked Deckard, "What are we gonna do?"
Deckard shook his head. "I dunno."
Ekko clenched his fists and headed toward the front door.
"Where are you going?" Deckard raised his voice.
Ekko stopped to look at him. "To keep track of Viktor," he answered like it was obvious.
Deckard blinked then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, yeah, good, you do that. In and out of shadows."
Ekko nodded. "That's how."
He turned to leave out the front double doors, then:
"Hey…"
Ekko stopped in his tracks and looked back.
Deckard half smirked. "You done good, buddy boy."
Ekko smiled. But it was a sad smile. He was finally getting what he wanted… but he no longer wanted it.
Still, though, it felt good to be appreciated.
With a nod, Ekko moved toward the door, reaching it just as the scissors gate across the entrance slid open.
Ekko froze as a tall, dark woman was standing in his way.
Melita was standing in the doorway.
Ekko stared. All the Jets stood. Velma and Roe stared from their seats.
Mel stopped in the doorway. Ekko looked back at the Jets, who were on edge at Mel's appearance. Swallowing, Ekko turned to leave again. As he went past Mel, he said, very quietly, in a tone of urgent warning:
"Leave."
Mel glanced at the boy as he passed her. At first, she thought it was meant as an insult. But as she looked around, she wondered if it was a warning.
She very slowly stepped into the store.
"I want to see your friend," she said, looking around at them. "Vi… She's here? She's supposed to be…"
They didn't answer her, glaring with varying levels of coldness.
"I have a message for her," Mel continued.
They still didn't answer her.
"Where is Babette?" Mel asked, wringing her handbag tighter.
Some of the Jets shifted forward with an air of menace.
"You are Jayce's girl," said Snowboy, frowning in recognition.
"We saw ya at the gym," said Mylo.
"Yeah, you wanna dance, Chiquita Banana?" Big Deal asked.
"Dancin' up a storm you was, dipping them hips…" Balkan sneered, looking her up and down.
Taking tentative steps toward the cellar stairs, Mel called out, "Babette! ¡Es Melita! ¿Puedes subir, por favor, que tengo que –"
She was cut off by Roe standing up and snapping, "Spanish?! You come in here speaking Spanish?!"
Mel shook her head, trying to be gentle. "I wasn't talking to you," she tried to explain.
Big Deal gripped the edge of his table harder. "No Spanish! Not with us, not today!"
Seeing no reason to engage them, Mel moved for the basement door, but Mylo stepped in front of it, crossing his arms.
Screw this.
Mel turned to leave, heading back toward the front door. But she stopped as Tiger and Balkan moved together and blocked her way. Mel stood taller.
"Let me pass," she said, firmly.
Deckard crossed his arms. "You heard her, boys. She wants to pass."
Mylo frowned, rubbing his chin as he looked her up and down. "Mmm, she's too dark to pass."
Mel didn't know what to say. But, to her surprise, Roe stepped closer to her. Mel thought she was going to snap at her again, but she turned on the boys.
"Let her go," Roe said to them. Then she turned her poison on Mel with a glare, "No one wants you here."
Balkan shrugged. "Why don't you dance for us, first?"
There was a small clatter in the room and Mel turned her head as Big Deal dropped a dime in the jukebox; music started to play. A violent version of the Mambo rang out.
Numbers clapped his hands, sliding on his feet, trying to look like Jayce.
"Dance with me, darling, like you danced at the gym," he said, starting to dance in front of Mel in an obscene parody of the mambo.
Beside Mel, Roe scowled at him, setting her jaw. "Numbers, stop it!"
Balkan joined in with Numbers, dancing in front of the two of them.
"Cutting in," he said, clapping his hands and moving closer to Mel.
"Balkan, get out of here!" Roe complained as she pulled Balkan away by his denim vest, but Numbers swooped in his place.
He quickly snatched Mel, grabbing her by her upper arms, swinging her around, and forcefully pushing her into the middle of the shop, midst the circle of the Jets staring and watching.
"C'mon, ya pig, let's see your moves!" Snowboy shouted, closing the circle.
As Mel pushed Numbers off her, Numbers pulled off her shawl, tossing it away. She looked at him to get it back, but it was gone, tossed aside somewhere. She stood, panting, frightened, keen to find a way out of the circle.
"Jayce's black pig," Mylo laughed behind her.
Mel looked at him and slapped Mylo across the face.
This got the other Jets excited. One by one, they started to join in the dance.
Big Deal and Numbers moved in and held her arms so she couldn't strike again. Action pushed Snowboy aside and grabbed Mel on her stomach.
"Hey! Stop touching her!" Velma yelled.
"Guys, don't do this!" Roe cried, shoving herself between them and Mel, getting them to back off.
Behind them, Tiger grabbed Mel's purse, intent on ripping it from her hand. But Mel wouldn't let go. She held on, tightly in a tug 'o war. Boys started laughing.
"No!" Mel pulled on her purse.
"Tiger, let her go!" Roe snapped, turning her head around and seeing him.
Instead of fighting her, Tiger rushed in toward Mel, grabbing her arms like partners in a waltz and forcing her to dance with him pressed against her.
Mel couldn't fight him; he was too strong. She could only go with the movement, in shock, looking for a way out.
"Hey! Over here!" Big Deal motioned to Tiger to give him a turn.
"Don't do this! No! Let me go!" Mel found her voice and pleaded.
All the Jets, except Claggor and Baby John were now dancing violently around Mel, shoving and spinning her back and forth, from one to the other.
"Let her go! Deckard! Enough!" Roe shouted, confused why he wasn't listening to her.
He didn't look at her, only past her. Roe then shrieked as she was suddenly lifted off her feet. Claggor was picking her up around her waist, pulling her away toward the front door.
"Help me!" Mel cried.
Already off her feet, Roe reached out and desperately grabbed Mel's hand, squeezing it tight.
Then Mylo stepped in between and took hold of both their wrists, ripping them apart.
"No!" Roe screamed, kicking and flailing against Claggor as he dragged her toward the door. Velma saw this and grabbed Tessa by the hand, following, arguing with him to put her down.
Deckard opened the door and Claggor shoved Roe out onto the street, then roughly pushed Velma and Tessa out after her. Deckard and Claggor both slammed the double doors closed, locking them out.
Roe immediately jumped up and banged on the window. "Open the door!" she shouted through the glass; her voice muffled. The other girls shouted with her.
Claggor looked to the other Jets, ignoring the girls' shouting and banging on the window.
Baby John watched from a corner, terrified.
In the middle of the circle, Mel lashed out, striking several Jets with her purse, her feet, her hands. But they surged back in and quickly overwhelmed her. Roe kept banging at the door, her horror only growing.
"Don't hurt her, please!" Roe cried, fresh tears drawing new grooves on her face.
Suddenly, the cellar door opened, and Babette stepped onto the main floor.
Upon seeing them, she immediately panicked. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" she shrieked.
The old woman grabbed the nearest Jet, hauling him off by his hair, then grabbed another by his shirt and pulled him away. She kicked at the remaining Jets, kicking them away from the girl on the floor.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU DISGUSTING PIECES OF SHIT?!" she yelled, furious.
As the last Jet retreated, the music died down, the song ending. It left a heavy silence and the girl weeping on the floor.
As Jets pulled away, standing, they froze. Some looked ready to attack again. Some of them looked ashamed.
Mel huddled on the floor, pulling the torn fabric from her dress to cover herself, sobbing.
Babette knelt down to help her to her feet. She whispered, softly, "¡Pobrecita! Mi'ja… Mi'ja…"
When Babette put her hand on Mel's shoulder, Mel recoiled, badly startled. She struggled to her feet, then pushed Babette away.
"¡Yo no soy tu hija!" she snapped, gasping on a sob. "Traitor!"
Mel picked up her shawl from the floor, shaking as she folded it over her arm. She glared at Babette, seething.
"¡Tú les das techo a estos puercos!"
Babette held her hands to her face, covering her mouth.
Slowly turning, Mel started to move toward the door. She watched them in the corners of her eyes, but the Jets didn't move. They let her pass without a word. Some couldn't look her in the eye.
Mel almost reached the door, then –
"Go back where you came from."
Everyone looked at Mylo. He swallowed a little as everyone stared at him. Babette shook her head, tiredly.
Mel slowly turned on the spot and fixed them all with a scary smile.
"You think I want to stay here?" she asked, the faint laugh stuck in her throat breaking her heart. "In this city, full of ugly little animals like you?"
Her eyes looked at all the Jets; some glaring, some looking away, some staring down at the ground.
She huffed, "No gracias…" After a beat, she stepped forward, raising her voice, vehemently, "Yo no soy americana. ¡Yo soy puertorriqueña!"
Mel shook in the face of her dream dead.
A beat of silence, then Mel crossed the room again. She stood in front of Babette.
"Tell Vi…" She sniffed on some tears. "You tell that murder, Caitlyn ain't coming."
Mel stared for a second. She thought of the perfect thing to say. To give Vi the same grief she was feeling. If she truly was the person Caitlyn thought she was.
"Viktor… He found out about them, Vi and Caitlyn…"
The perfect revenge, even if it was a lie.
"… He shot her… Caitlyn is dead..."
Even if the truth would be revealed soon enough. Without having to lift a single blade, without having to take a single life, Mel could gut Vi like a fish. Tear her apart like a wolf.
"You tell her that…"
Then Mel left the store. The door jingled behind her. The Jets remained motionless long after she disappeared down the street. Never to be seen again.
Outside, Roe sat down on a curb, sobbing. Velma and Tessa sat with her, rubbing her back. Holding each other.
Babette tried to follow Mel, but stopped in the middle of the room, knowing there was nothing else to say to her. She stared at the floor; then, with a great effort, she addressed the boys, standing motionless around her, speaking to them one by one, quietly, flatly:
"I know you. I know all of your names. Since you was born; I watched you grow up." She shook her head. The hope in her voice turned to disappointment, "And you have grown into rapists."
Tears streamed down Mouthpiece's face.
She walked past them to the basement door. So much death… so much loss… She turned to them once more before descending.
"You dishonor yourselves. You dishonor your dead."
The Jets watched her go. For a moment, none of them spoke and no one looked each other in the eye. They stayed frozen.
Claggor asked, "What do we do now?"
Deckard, glaring at the floor, shook his head.
"We're done."
Then he stomped to the door and left without a word.
Others looked to each other, then left one by one. Defeated. Broken. Ashamed. Humbled. Shaken.
/
"Babette! ¡Es Melita! ¿Puedes subir, por favor, que tengo que –"
"Babette! It's Melita! Can you come up, please, I have to –"
"¡Pobrecita! Mi'ja… Mi'ja…"
"Poor dear! Daughter… Daughter…" [Not literally her daughter, used as a term of endearment.]
"¡Yo no soy tu hija, traitor!"
"I am not your daughter, traitor!"
"Tú les das techo a estos puercos."
"You give shelter to these pigs."
"No gracias…"
"No thank you…"
"Yo no soy americana. ¡Yo soy puertorriqueña!"
"I am not American. I am Puerto Rican!"
[In case it wasn't obvious, Roe's character was meant to purposefully emulate the unnamed Ionian princess Mel tried to save. In a LoL lore short story, 'Roe' is the name of a childhood friend of Vi's. (Child of Zaun).]
/
