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Short Fiction - Dialogue With Snakes pg 2[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11] She almost missed the sign at the town limits, a weathered bit of board painted with the name, Atrauk, and estimating the population at just over four hundred. It flashed through the bus's headlights, cracked white paint on green-weatherproofed plywood. The sign was the same as you'd see in any small town in northern Canada boasting a pitifully small civic budget. But, as the bus rolled into Atrauk proper, it was clear that the poverty was a false impression. The book had explained what to expect. The good citizens of Atrauk had money to spend, and had used it to turn what must have once been a quiet little town into a class-one tourist trap. The bus drove slowly down the narrow street. Nearly every building was fronted by a huge neon sign proclaiming rooms to let, cheapest rates in town, colour T.V. and waterbeds. Kit was glad when the bus continued through main street Atrauk. She lifted herself out of her plush seat and slipped into the aisle, making her way carefully up to the driver. "How long before we get to the hotel?" she asked. The driver didn't take his eyes from the road to answer. "Five minutes, no more," he said. "The Shades Motel is right on site." A thrill of anticipation went down Kit's spine. On site. If the Forest was really as unnerving as the books and brochures said, what would that be like? Kit walked back down the aisle, being careful not to catch Al's eye. Khala was sleeping on his shoulder, one hand resting in his lap. His head was lowered, and Kit imagined he didn't even see her pass. We're friends, she thought, friends first and always, no matter what else has gone on. She brushed another unruly strand of red behind her ear.  The Shades Motel had the look of a northern hunting lodge, Kit thought as she waded through her companion's unloaded luggage looking for her own bags. "Hey, Kit, what's yours?" said someone behind her. It was Peter, stage manager, her immediate boss. She answered, still scanning the luggage. "Brown - sorry, tan suitcase, medium size. There should also be that carpet bag, some kind of tapestry. I can never seem to see my own things." "Ah, you're selective. To thine own things be blind." Pete passed in front of her, and reached out to capture the carpet bag three feet beyond where she stood. "Blind, Kit," he said, and returned to the group, leaving Kit's thank-you hanging unsaid on her lips. It had, she guessed, been sort of a conversation. Kit found herself sharing a room with two other women, both actors. The division between cast and crew was pronounced, nearly xenophobic, but when it came to sleeping arrangements, boys bunked with boys and girls with girls. She reached the room before either of the others and put down her bags to claim the bed by the window. Then, tired and ready for some sleep, she curled up to hunt in her purse for a novel to help her drift off. The door swung wide, banging against the wall. Three actors entered, in conversation, ignoring Kit like she wasn't there, another snub - but when was Kit ever one to complain? Kit put her purse over her shoulder and left, and closed the door behind her. Before she had decided what to do, banished from the room until the unpleasant company departed, the door opened again. "Hey, honey, grab me a chocolate bar from the lobby, will you? I'll pay you back later." "Sorry, Sally," said Kit, not looking at the other woman. "I'm not coming back." Sally was Khala's best friend. It was Sally that made Kit nervous, not Khala. If anything about Kit and Al ever got out, Sally would make her life torturous. back to jenstuff
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