for two, maybe three.”
Original Cindy glanced at Max, who shrugged, asking, “Why would you do that for us? You don't know us from nobody.”
Kendra gestured toward the coffee shop. “You stood up for me with Morty.”
“Cost you your job, you mean,” Max reminded her.
Laughing, Kendra said, “Yeah, but it was worth it, seein' Morty, scared shitless… and, anyway, that job sucked. Besides, it wasn't my only means of income.”
“Workin' girl?” Original Cindy asked, again glancing at the pink top filled to the brim and the postage-stamp miniskirt.
Kendra's hands went to her hips. “Why would you ask that?” She didn't sound hurt, exactly— more surprised.
Original Cindy's eyes widened. Max frowned at her friend, who said nothing about the former waitress's provocative attire, merely saying. “Uh… uh, don't know, girl, it just sounded like maybe you, uh… ”
“Oh, I work a lot… but not at that. I do some translating, language training, transcription work. I've done a buncha things, but never that.”
“Sorry— Original Cindy didn't mean no offense.”
Kendra shook her head. “Not to worry. Anyway, 'fyou guys need a place to crash, I've got room.”
“Sweet,” Max said. “Where?”
“Not far.”
“Walking distance? I hope so, 'cause it's gonna be a bitch gettin' three of us on my bike.”
“Oh yeah,” Kendra said, with a dismissive wave, “easy walking distance.”
They wound up walking for most of the next hour, Max pushing the Ninja, Original Cindy lugging her backpack, but they didn't complain— after all, a roof was a roof. But Max didn't know quite what to make of Kendra. For a woman who knew languages well enough to work as a translator, the blonde seemed remarkably like a clueless airhead.
Nice one, though.
Finally, when Original Cindy gave Max a rolling-eyed look, signaling she was sure she was about to drop, Kendra said, “That's it over there! Told ya it was close.” And pointed to an apartment building two doors up and across the street.
The building didn't look like much, six stories, most of the windows plywood-covered; and, as they got closer, a piece of paper tacked to the front door became all too evident.
“The place is
” Original Cindy asked.
Kendra shrugged a little. “Not really condemned— more like… abandoned.”
They got to the door and Original Cindy studied the notice on the door. “Original Cindy ain't no translator, but she reads English… and this says ‘condemned.' ”
Shaking her head dismissively, Kendra said, “That's just to keep out the, you know, riffraff.”
Max asked, “How many people live here?”
Kendra shrugged. “Fifty or so.”
“Fifty?” Original Cindy blurted. “Fifty people live in a condemned building? Thank God you're keepin' out the riffraff!”
“Come on in, girls,” Kendra said. “You'll see— it's not that bad. Really.”
When the trio got to the fourth floor— up a freight-style elevator, Max walking her Ninja along— Max and Original Cindy discovered that Kendra was right. Like the building itself, the apartment was unfinished, a study in taped drywall and plastic-tarp room dividers; but the place had running water, two bedrooms, and some decent secondhand furniture. They all crashed in the tiny living room area, Kendra in a chair covered with a blue sheet, and the other two on a swayback couch covered with a paisley sheet.
“Kendra, you right,” Original Cindy said, leaning back, getting comfy. “Kickin' crib.”
“And nobody bothers you in here?” Max asked.
Kendra made a small face. “Well… there's Eastep.”
“What's an Eastep?” Max asked.
“He's a cop. Who collects from all us squatters.”
“He's crooked?”
Kendra smiled a little. “I said he was a cop.”
“They
bent in Seattle, honey,” Original Cindy said to Max; then to Kendra, she asked, “What's the goin' rate?”
“Too much,” Kendra said, and proved it by telling them.
“Ouch,” Max said, but asked, “Are there any empty apartments left in this building?”
With a shake of her blond mane, Kendra said, “None fit for humans. Hot and cold running rats… holes in the walls, missing ceilings… no water, no electricity… you name it, they've got the problems. All the habitable apartments have been taken.”
“Great,” Max muttered. She turned to Original Cindy. “Any ideas?”
“Original Cindy's got a friend she could stay with for a while.” She shrugged regretfully. “But girlfriend's only got room for one more… We got to think of somethin' else, Boo.”
“No you don't,” Kendra said. “You two have to live together?”
The two women looked at each other.
“Not really,” they said in unison.
“You aren't a couple?”
“We friends,” Original Cindy said.
“Just friends,” Max said, overlapping Cindy's answer.
“Fine,” Kendra said. “Max, if Original Cindy's got a place to crash, why don't you move in here? I could seriously use some help payin' Eastep's rent… and it'd be nice to have somebody to talk to. But I just don't have enough room for all three of us.”
“Sounds prime,” Original Cindy said. “My friend's place ain't that far from here; she was sort of expectin' me, anyway. We can still hang, Boo. No big dealio.”
Max looked back and forth from Original Cindy to Kendra. Finally, she said, “Cool— let's do it.”
“Next thing,” Original Cindy said, “we got to find a way to get some cash.”
Screwing up her face, Max said, “You mean like a job?”
“What else you gonna do, Boo… steal for a livin'?”
Max said nothing.
Kendra perked up, getting an idea. “We should go talk to Theo!”
The two women turned to her.
“Theo?” Max asked.
“Yeah, he lives next door with his wife, Jacinda, and their kid, cute kid, Omar. Place Theo works is
looking for help.”
Max and Original Cindy exchanged glances— that was a rarity in this economy.
Original Cindy said, “Well, let's not keep the man waitin'… Original Cindy needs some money, honey, to allow her to live in the high style she's become accustomed to… Luxuries, like eatin' and breathin' an' shit.”
Kendra led the way and they knocked on the door to the adjacent apartment. A tiny, knee-high face peeked out, his eyes big and brown, his skin a dark bronze.
“Omar, is your daddy home?”
The adorable face nodded.
“Can we come in?”
Omar looked over his shoulder and a female voice said, “That you, Kendra?”
“Yeah, Jacinda— I've got a couple of friends with me. They're cool.”
“Well, come on in, then.”
