Page 104 of Homebound
“Is it difficult? Can a woman do it?”
“I’ve seen women do it, yeah. But those women, they aren’t like you.” He squinted at her. “Are you not from around here?”
“That I am,” Gemma smiled with self-deprecation. “Very much from around here. What do you mean, other women aren’t like me?”
The guy opened and closed his fingers as if frustrated at having to enlighten her. “They are larger than you. I’m guessing stronger. The parts are heavy. It’s hard work.” She detected pity in his response. He didn’t think she was cut out to work at the docks.
Gemma smiled at him with confidence. “I’m stronger than I look.”
She shifted her weight from her left foot to the right, and her bad ankle responded with a pang so sharp she almost winced.
The gate opened, and the guy in the mushroom hat shuffled out. He gave the line of people a critical appraisal and, after consulting his notes, began yelling out tasks that needed help today. The line came alive, people stomped their feet and shuffled. Some shouted questions to the mushroom man wanting to know the particulars. Gemma didn’t understand much of the dock lingo, but at every opportunity, she dutifully raised her hand indicating availability and desire to be recruited. To do anything.
But either her smaller stature worked against her, or the fact that she was a female didn’t sit well with the mushroom recruiter, but he consistently ignored her.
The guy in front of Gemma had long been called, and she was still standing there past lunchtime, in the cold, hungry and desperate in her too-tight coat and damp knit hat that kept sliding down to her eyes. It didn’t matter how straight she held her back to appear taller, how covertly she kept her weight off the right ankle, for God forbid her limp showed, or how eagerly she responded to the offers she knew nothing about. None of that mattered. She wasn’t wanted.
She stayed until the day began to wane, hoping that her persistence would pay off. When the recruiter left and the gate closed after him, the line dispersed as the City quietly absorbed its hapless residents who disappeared without saying a word to each other. Gemma left, too, going by the market before heading to her grotto.
Another disappointment awaited her - she was too late, and market stalls had already closed for the night. Swallowing her hunger, she went to the grotto and squeezed in. Her eyes felt gritty and dry. Her coat was still damp, as were her other bundled up belongings, but she made a nest out of them anyway for it was better than lying on bare brick.
She managed to fall into a fitful sleep listening to the sweepers’ motors grinding in the distance. Once, one passed right down the street waking her up. She pressed her back deeper into the crevice out of fear of being detected. Her teeth chattered from the cold and nervousness.
And then she heard footsteps and whispering. Close.
Her eyes and ears open wide, she froze, barely breathing.
She heard more furtive steps and sounds of something being dragged on the ground. More quiet shuffling, and then the banging clung of metal against stone.
Someone kicked her tin can!
“Damn it, why don’t you ring a church bell!” she heard an angry whisper.
“Sorry, I didn’t see it!”
“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”
“Watch what? It’s pitch black.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know! A can.”
Gemma heard the men - she was positive the whisperers were men - stop and listen. One had heavy labored breathing.
“Where did it come from? Is anyone here?” The whispered questions held a thin thread of fear.
“No one’s here. But keep thrashing around, and there will be,” the one with the labored breathing wheezed angrily. “Come on, check his pockets, and we’re out of here.”
Again, there was shuffling and rustling of clothes.
“I like the shirt.”
“Well, take it, but be quick. That sweeper’s about to come back.”
Sounds of something being handled reached Gemma’s oversensitive, focused ears. Then she heard quiet hurried steps, and her night visitors were gone. The unmistakable whine-and-clunk of an approaching sweeper came from afar.
Gemma wasn’t able to close her eyes for the rest of the night.
