Chapter Eighteen

Turn Around

He arrives at one of the floating Trade Stations that are out on the ocean. The one he is on is not as big as the Trade Station, the Trade Station of all Trade Stations. That Trade station is the place where most of the pioneers get their belongings and supplies. This Trade Station that he is at is smaller. There are less people here and mostly keep to themselves. He asks one of the fishermen where he can find a place to stay. The man points him in the direction of the only place that people can stay here for long term situations.

The place where Richard will most likely stay is situated under the water. With the use of cables, the structure hangs underneath the floating platform. The water here is shallow enough so that the cables aren't too long. This Trade Station is mainly for people like Richard, people coming from the stack cities to be integrated into ocean life. He thinks it's a good place to start out.

A low building is built up on to the surface of the Trade Station. On the door is an 'enter' sign. He pushes it open and steps inside. The room is cramped with a desk and a filing cabinet. A white button sits on the desk with a little sign next to it. There is also a ledger and pen. A door is set on the left side of the wall. It is closed. He pushes the button on the desk. The sign next to it says 'Please be patient. We will be with you as soon as we can'. He looks around the small office, he supposes, and sits down on one of the two chairs pushed against the wall. He waits.

Five minutes later, a woman arrives. She is probably near her thirties with dark brown hair cut short so that it meets her chin. She is dressed in a tank top and shorts. Richard is not used to seeing women dressed this way. Usually they wear long dresses with long hair. Obviously this woman doesn't hold up to the New Puritan's beliefs.

"Something you need?" she asks gruffly and leans on the desk.

Richard stands and extends his hand. "Hi, I'm Richard," he says. The woman shakes his hand. "I was wondering if you had a room available."

"Right, let me check that out." She opens the ledger and scans the pages. "We have several rooms open. How long do you plan on staying here?"

He shrugs. "I… I don't know."

"Runaway?" she asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Did you runaway? A few of the younger ones here ran away from home and often start like you just did. Now, did you run away from home?"

"Sort of," he answers. "There's also a problem about-"

"Money?" she guesses. He nods. "Don't worry about it."

"Really?"

"Kid, I get people like you all the time. Most of the people I get barely have anything except the clothes on their backs. We can work out an agreement if you want."

Richard nods. "What do you have in mind?"

The woman shrugs and sits on the edge of her desk. "I own a fishing business. From seven to three-thirty, an eight hour day with three breaks scheduled throughout it. Most of the money you make will go to pay off your room and board. Say sixty-forty. I keep sixty, you take the forty."

He blinks. He didn't expect it to go this fast at all. Suddenly he has a job and a home. "What kind of work will you expect me to do?"

"Guttin' fish," she says and rights something down in the ledger. "You'll work five days a week. Saturdays and Sundays you have off to do what you like. Do you agree with this all?"

He nods eagerly. "Yes, I do."

"Excellent. My name is Karen. I own this little place here as well as the fishery. You can come to me any time you would like if you have a problem. Just sign here on the ledger and I'll show you around. Also do you want to be paid in cash or cheque?"

"Cash," he answers. He has no bank account to deposit that money. And some of it he would like to send to Gemma without any complications.

He steps forward and takes the pen from her hand. He writes his name down on the dotted line and sets the pen back down on the desk. Karen smiles at him and with a gesture of his hand she leads him through the door on the side of the wall. What he finds is a short set of stairs that leads to what looks like a living room.

"Follow me," Karen says. She tromps down the short set of stairs and into the larger room. Richard follows close by. "This is the dining hall slash recreation room." On one side of the room there are several tables with benches for people to sit by and eat. On the other side of the room are sofas and TVs for the people who stay here to relax and enjoy themselves. The walls surrounding the room are clear and show into the ocean.

"Air purifiers are in the building up top," she explains. "Fans circulate the air through vents throughout this whole place so the air is always good to breathe here. Most of our power is supplied by the sun and water currents."

"Where's the kitchen?" he asks, noting that there is no kitchen to make the food even though the sitting area for eating food is located in this room.

"One level below us," she says. "It didn't fit in here so we moved it a floor down. Come along then, I'll show you around." She leads him through another door and down another set of stairs. They reach the first floor and down the hallway do they walk. "These rooms are mainly for storage. Bed sheets, pillows, and anything else really. We've got several laundry rooms down here for you to do your own laundry. People do their own stuff around here, unless you pay Elsa to do it."

"Who?" he asks.

"Elsa," she answers. "You'll meet her in a minute." Karen leads Richard into the kitchen which is quite large with silver and metal appliances. A single person is in the kitchen, preparing some meal probably for dinner. "For breakfast it is usually cold cereal or oatmeal occasionally. For your lunch for work, you can take some of the food here for it. And for dinner it is carried up from this kitchen to the dining hall upstairs. Usually it's a hot meal."

"Brought another mouth for me to feed, Karen?" the person who is cooking asks. The girl stops stirring the large pot and turns around to face Richard. Taken aback by her appearance, Richard is reminded a little bit of Ace. The girl is certainly striking and would draw a lot of attention. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, covered in a hair net. It is a striking and rich violet colour, but he can tell it is a wig. No one has hair that type of colour. Her fingernails are also painted the same colour, even the makeup she wears matches her absurd ensemble.

"Yes, and you could at least act like you care," Karen says. "This is Richard Straid. Just arrived 'bout ten minutes ago."

"Shade did you say?" the girl asks.

"Straid," Richard pronounces. "Hi."

"Hi, I'm Elsa," the girl says and turns her back on them to return to the pot. "Although some people call me Ellie or El. It doesn't really matter what you call me. I'll hear you out eventually."

"Elsa also does laundry for those who are too busy," Karen says. "But it'll cost ya."

"I charge ten dollars a load," Elsa replies. "That includes, washing, drying, and, if I feel like it, folding and delivery."

"I can take care of myself," he says. "But thanks anyway."

She shrugs. "Suit yourself."

"Come on, Richard," Karen says. "I'll show you to your room." They leave the kitchen and continue the tour around this seaside home. On the fourth level of the home, she pulls out a ring of keys and pulls one off the keychain. She slips it into the lock of the door and opens it up. "It's not much," she says. "But it's probably more space than what you're used to Topside." The room is probably one of the largest rooms Richard has ever seen in his life. Inside there is a dresser for clothing, a night table beside the bed, and a single bed that is all his.

"This… this is for me?"he says and steps into the room. To him, this room is too large for him. It feels weird to be allowed to have such a large room.

Karen laughs behind him, a warm sound that makes him feel welcome. "Of course it is." She hands him the key and presses it into his palm. "Dinner is at six. Don't forget that. Some of the people here work for me so you won't be alone when you get up for work. You leave this place at six forty-five. So you can figure out when to get up on the morning."

"I start tomorrow?" he asks.

"Yup, I don't like slackers, kid," she says. "Just follow the others and you'll be fine."

"Thanks," he says. "For everything."

"Don't mention it." She leaves him standing in his room.

He sets out his stuff and meager belongings in his dresser and on his nightstand. It doesn't look like much, but this place is all his. For once he has a place to call his own. He has a key to prove it! Now he has a job, room and board, a bed. Things are finally turning around for him.