Viva La Resistance: Prologue
copyright © 2007 8-bit
* * *“You’d hit it.”
“Not a chance.”
“You would. Look at those shoulders.”
“See his throat? He has to shave halfway down his neck. I don’t do hairy. You’re Italian, maybe you’re used to that, but my parents are both Polacks. We’re hairless, girl. I hardly even have to shave my pits. Check it.” The girl raised her arm.
“I don’t wanna check it.”
“Check it!”
The other girl checked it. It was the last thing she did of her own free will, because then they turned the corner and the light went off in their faces.
Both of the girls were wearing sunglasses—but the darker one had tipped her face forward to look at the other’s oddly hairless armpit, and the light had come in over the tops, directly into her eyes. She froze; her face drained of expression. Her pupils could be seen dilating over the rims of the glasses. Her head remained tipped forwards, and her eyes, half lidded, pointed where the other girl’s arm had been.
The other girl, Armpit Girl, staggered backwards. She stumbled, almost lost her balance, recovered. Her arms made vague gestures of warding. Her sunglasses had blocked all of the direct light, and that earned her an extra ten seconds.
She swayed like a drunk woman. Behind the glasses, her eyes were squeezed tight shut.
Their attacker came into view.
It was a teenage girl in a Dunkin Donuts uniform. Her face was cheerful, smiling, cute, blank. She held what looked very much like a stainless steel vibrator in her hand.
“Hi!” she chirped. “Are you one of Happily’s Children?”
“No,” said the darker girl.
“Yes,” Armpit slurred.
Which of them was lying could probably be determined with a few questions using the old riddle where one person always lies and the other always tells the truth, but Happily’s Children didn’t bother with riddles. They didn’t have to.
Dunkin Donuts girl cocked her head.
“Please take off your sunglasses!”
The darker girl took her glasses off, but otherwise didn’t move. She remained tilted forward, a statue in mid step, looking at the place in midair that was now empty.
The blonde, Armpit Girl, turned and ran.
And ran right into a security guard and a small line of customers that had gathered in the doorway. They seized her before she could spin and correct the movement. They all wore identical, kind smiles. The girl screamed, thrashing in the forest of arms.
“Please take her glasses off,” Dunkin Donuts girl asked politely. An old woman reached around and pulled the sunglasses from the girl’s face. The girl’s eyes were blue and wide and panicked and searched the room. Then they focused on her attacker.
“Wait. You don’t have to flash me. I’m one of Happily’s Children. She’s my mistress or whatever. All the time.”
Dunkin Donuts girl walked over.
“Brooke help me!“
The darker girl turned, finally breaking her frozen pose.
“Brooke, don’t help her,” Dunkin Donuts girl said. Brooke stopped obediently and stood with her arms by her sides. Dunkin Donuts girl raised the device, the one that created the flash. The stainless steel cylinder had a button on one side and a little glass window on the other.
“SOMEBODY HELP ME!“
“We are helping you,” the woman explained. She seemed puzzled that the girl didn’t understand. “Happily only wants you to be beautiful. Girls are more beautiful when they’re hypnotized. Why don’t you want to be beautiful?”
The girl made a noise like an animal fighting with a chainsaw.
She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side. Dunkin Donuts girl followed it patiently, holding the device an inch from the girl’s nose. It flashed.
A shock ran through the girl’s body like she’d been punched on the jaw. Her struggles didn’t stop, but they lost their coordination and ferocity. Her head tossed the other way as an afterthought.
It flashed again. She went limp. Her chin dropped against her chest.
The crowd of hands held her up like a life-sized doll. She was wearing a tight white tank top, and it was easy to see how much her breathing had slowed. Still, her eyes stayed shut.
Another flash. The girl’s eyes opened to slits. She hadn’t given up—she’d just lost control of her eyelids. Dunkin Donuts girl pressed the button once more, and this time, the light went directly into the girl’s eyes. The pupils dilated.
“Are you one of Happily’s Children?” Dunkin Donuts girl asked.
“No,” the girl said in a clear voice.
The crowd placed her on her feet and stood her up. She slipped back against the arms bonelessly.
“Stand up.”
She stood up. Her hands dangled by her sides. There were handprints up and down her bare arms, but the marks wouldn’t bruise: the crowd had been as gentle as possible with her.
“I’m so glad we found you,” Dunkin Donuts girl beamed. “You’ve been lost, but that’s all over now. Come with me. You too, Brooke.”
The girls followed her towards the back of the store. Their movements were somewhere between natural and mechanical. Their eyes looked at Dunkin Donuts girl’s back as they were led away.
Everyone in the store clapped, shook hands, patted backs, smiled.
“Free coffee for everyone!” the manager shouted from behind the counter.
It was a good day. Any day another poor, lost soul was brought out of the cold and into the warm light of Happily was a good day.