Wasted World | Episode 2

bra and panties. Michael and Amanda moved even quicker. They were fully dressed in the hoodies and track pants lifted from the North Kilpatrick Shopping Center. “I noticed... Where’s my dress?”
Corey grinned uncomfortably and handed her a plastic bag that Angela hadn’t noticed hanging halfway up his forearm. “Marie didn’t care much for the amount of leg showing when you showed up here. The dress had to go.”
Inside the bag was a man’s white dress shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Angela put them on without protest. The dress—what was left of it—wouldn’t be missed. The shirt went down to her knees, and she tucked the bottom into the too-tight jeans. At least they were women’s jeans, she thought. “You can thank your boss for her hospitality, but we want to leave.”
“Uuh... that won’t be so easy.”
Angela glared at him and the children moaned. She poked a finger into Corey’s chest. “The city may have been destroyed, but it’s still a free country. You can’t... that goddamn Marie can’t hold us here against our will.”
Corey stepped back and held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “You’re not being held against your will. You can go whenever you want. The trouble is a big storm’s moving in from the east. Our lookouts that way have spotted some pretty wicked-looking shit... purple lightning, twisters. Weather’s gone to hell since the bombs dropped. We couldn’t let you wander out until it’s passed.”
“We’ll take our chances.”
Amanda was tugging on Angela’s shirt cuff. “I’m scared of tornadoes. I saw a movie once where cows were flying in the air. Can’t we stay here for the night?”
Angela looked around for the first time since recovering consciousness. They were in a different part of the underground parkade. Children were sleeping comfortably in a line of mattresses set up along one wall. They were covered in heavy comforters and their heads were nestled into soft white pillows. Tables were organized under the fluorescent lighting around one of the immense concrete pillars and people were seated there, eating a vast assortment of food presented in large metal serving trays. A young woman appeared from the stairwell carrying another steaming tray. Angela’s mouth watered when she smelled the mashed potatoes and gravy.
Michael was pulling at her other sleeve. “Maybe Amanda’s right. Maybe we should stay the night at least. I’m starving, and it would be nice to sleep in a bed for a change instead of a car or on the ground.”
Angela was starting to give in. She felt her fat lip where Marie had struck her. It wasn’t swollen as bad as before. She started towards the food, and the children followed. Angela was sick of eating squished chocolate bars and drinking flat pop. It would be good to eat real food again. “One night. That’s all. We leave first thing in the morning.”
Amanda looked up at her. “Right after breakfast?”
“We’ll see.” One night. We will stay one night and then we’ll be on our way in the morning.
Just one or two free meals, hey, darling? That’s how you operate, isn’t it? Slowly sponging off the hospitality of others. You did it to me and your mother for years.
I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone.
I’m never that far away. Someone’s got to teach you right from wrong. Too bad you’re such a lousy student.
An elderly couple made room at one of the tables for the three to sit down. Michael and Amanda scooped impossibly large quantities onto their plates and managed to finish it all. Angela was starving, but she took her time, checking out all the other guests seated at the table. A big woman half her age was seated at the end of the table opposite Angela. They stared at each other, silently assessing, chewing their food and drinking their water. Finally, the woman placed her fork down and spoke directly to her.
“You need a camera?”
“Pardon me?” Angela asked.
“A camera. Do you need a goddamn camera to take a picture? You never seen a black woman eat before?”
“I… I didn’t mean to be rude. You were staring at me, and I don’t care what color your skin is.”
“Then look at your food instead of me, bitch.”
Angela pushed the half-finished meal away. “I’m not that hungry anymore.” She left the table and headed back towards the shadows where the children were still sleeping on their cozy looking mattresses.
“That wasn’t very nice of her,” Amanda said. The twins had left the table with her. “She had no right to say that.”
Angela sighed and sat on the one empty bed at the end of the line. “I don’t think people give a hoot about rights anymore, sweetie. We’d better start getting used to the way things are going to be.”
It was a queen-sized mattress with plenty of room for the three of them. Michael lay next to his sister and shared the blankets. Angela was on the other side of the Amanda. She smiled at the girl as her eyes grew heavy. Within minutes the twins were fast asleep. Angela tucked the top comforter up over their chests and fluffed her own pillow up against the concrete wall behind. She sat back against it and watched the people living on the third underground level of the Sandman hotel go about their business. The old couple they’d sat next to for supper were still at the table, huddled closely together and whispering. Others were joining the children put to bed earlier. Angela guessed the time to be somewhere between 9 and 11 pm, but she couldn’t be certain. She didn’t have a watch, and there were no clocks on the barren grey walls. It could’ve been 12 noon for all she knew. Her head still felt a bit fuzzy since the Hodgkin woman smacked her in the mouth. She could only go by