5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Pearl
W ell, I might be made of paper forever, I’ve been removed from history, and I’m filled with bubblegum. That’s certainly not great news. I do have Delia, which is wonderful. Really, really wonderful. I’ve also discovered Doritos.
“Another one, please,” I say with my hand held out.
“Are you sure? I really think we should watch what happens when you eat before you keep going.” Delia sits across the sofa from me, holding the bag tightly against her chest with a wary look.
Neither of us knows where the “tortilla chips” are going when I eat them or where they’ll end up, but once we discovered I could put things inside me we had to try.
Kind of frightening to think about too hard, really, but we just had to do it!
And these little triangles? They’re so good.
I really don’t care what happens to me once they’re inside.
After the terrible day I’ve had I could use something nice.
“Hand them over.”
“Just one more. Then we wait.” She hesitantly pulls another orange triangle out of the bag and passes it my way.
I press the chip to my paper lips, and it slides on in.
I crunch the spicy delight against teeth that feel normal to me—even though I know they don’t exist as far as the outside world is concerned—and swallow it down.
This whole situation just gets weirder and weirder.
I cross my legs and lean lazily against the chair back.
“Well, that’s that. Now, you can teach me about this online shopping thing. How do we get to the online shops? Do you have a car?”
Delia’s eyes sparkle as she covers her mouth; she’s trying not to laugh at me. That means I’ve said something dumb…again. I sigh and wait for her to compose herself enough to answer .
“ Online means on the computer. Sorry, I should have explained better. We’re going to look at pictures to pick out some ideas for you. Then we’ll take them to a place in town that can make them custom fit for you, since you can’t wear regular clothes.” Delia says.
We did try, too—putting me in regular clothes, that is. They not only fell off, but also weighed me down. It was quite the failure.
Delia takes her phone out of her pocket and swipes her thumb on it so that it lights up. Mavis hops onto her lap and begins to turn in circles. “Alright, so let’s cover the basics of the Internet. At least enough so we can find you some fancy new gear. We’ll just learn as we go, okay?”
“ Meow. Pbft, ” Mavis says as she settles into a loaf. She makes a sound that sounds like a cross between an asthmatic wheeze and a purr. It’s a bit unsettling but Delia doesn’t pay it any mind so it must be fine.
I lean in and watch as Delia taps a symbol at the bottom of the phone and the picture changes. Then she touches a black space at the top of it and a bunch of letters show up.
“Looks kind of like a typewriter,” I say.
“Yep, exactly. It’s the keyboard. I type what I want to find into the search bar of the browser—that’s what I tapped a second ago—and it will search the Internet for relevant information.
The Internet is, basically, a place where people can put almost anything they want and do almost whatever they want with it.
It’s a little hit or miss sometimes because it doesn’t matter whether or not the information people give it is true.
So, if I ask something you know, and it gives me a wrong answer, please tell me. ”
“Will do. But, I must say, they really shouldn’t let people lie about things there.
Someone should clean it up so it’s only the truth, shouldn’t they?
It seems the responsible thing for the people who own the Internet to do.
I don’t get why people are lying anyway.
Who would waste their time going on their device to type in lies on the off chance someone might ask them a question?
There are better things to do, if I say so”
“Well, the thing is…,” Delia stares into the distance for quite a few seconds before continuing on as if I hadn’t said anything. “Okay, so we need clothes for you. I have a crazy idea. First, I ne ed you to tell me what kinds of clothes you’d like to wear. Modern stuff or your time stuff?”
“Well, I know I should want to fit in with modern fashion, but I can’t help missing my things.”
“Perfect, I was hoping you’d say that. I’m awful at fashion stuff and just, I don’t know, girly stuff for the most part.
I did find this website that has faithful recreations of vintage clothing though after looking around.
The clothing is photographed from all directions in high resolution.
It’s really pretty and I think you would look amazing in all of it. ”
She types in the name of the “site”, and it opens up to an image of a woman who looks like she stepped straight out of the forties. I can feel my face positively glowing.
“So now you can sort of scroll through like this and click on things that interest you to see more about them, or you can go to this magnifying glass here and type in specific words to look for. If you find something you really, really like let me know and I’ll save it.”
I learn it quickly, though I have to use a pen-like thing called a “stylus” to use the phone, as it doesn’t recognize my fingers.
Apparently, it only reacts to skin, and other materials made specifically for it—not paper.
Regardless, it doesn’t take long for me to select a ton of things that I like.
I’ll have to whittle it down when I get wherever we’re going.
When we get done, Delia shows me how to work something called a microwave.
It’s incredible. While she’s on a call with her mom, I attempt to microwave an egg by myself.
It goes very poorly. She told me not to put metal inside of the microwave, as it would cause a fire.
She didn’t tell me that eggs would explode.
I stand staring at the open microwave with egg splattered all over inside of it. What does one use to clean the inside of a microwave? Regular soap and water? Can I get water on myself, or will that ruin me? Hmm.
“ Pbft.”
Mavis stands on her hind legs, puts her front paws on the edge of the counter, and sniffs inside the messy appliance. After a few good sniffs of the eggy funk, those long, creepy legs shoot out .
“Yikes!” I jump back, giving the cant as much room as she needs to do whatever the heck she’s about to do.
Mavis pushes herself up higher with her longer legs, steadies herself on a bottom drawer with her lowest legs, and manages to work her upper body inside the microwave.
I don’t really know how to feel as she slurps and munches away, wheezing happily.
It’s a bit foul, but also, I like to see ladies succeed.
“How’s it going?” Delia shouts from the living room.
“Fine! I’m coming!” I shout back then scurry out of there, leaving Mavis to her dinner. Delia is lounging on her purple sofa. Seeing her triggers a smile in me like always. “So, are we going to get my new clothes tonight?”
“The place we need is closed for tonight, unfortunately. We’ll go right away tomorrow though.
Speaking of tomorrow, I’m supposed to work in the afternoon.
” Delia bites her lip while she’s lost in thought for a moment.
“I know I’m supposed to stay away from Brigley, but I do see him at work sometimes.
I don’t think I can call in if I don’t want to draw attention to us.
Or maybe that’s just paranoia. I don’t know. ”
“If you’re willing to risk it, I’m okay with it. It’s up to you.” I cover my mouth as I yawn. “I think it’s gonna be an early night for me.”
“Me too. Sleep sucked last night.” Delia rubs her lower back. She does that a lot. Poor thing.
“I insist you sleep in the bed with me tonight. It’ll be more comfortable on your back. Plus, you don’t want to be out here with Mavis after she was rubbing up in all that hot egg.”
“Hot egg? How did Mavis—”
I wave my hand dismissively. “You’ll have to excuse my lack of pajamas. I have to sleep in my underwear. Can’t exactly rest in my uniform.”
“I have zero problem with that,” Delia says as she stands. “But we’ll make sure to add some pretty jammies to your shopping list.”
“Good. I could use a few fancy things after the day I’ve had.
Can’t help but admit I enjoy feminine attire when I’m out of uniform.
It seems many ladies these days dress in a more manly fashion.
” I think back to some of the half-naked people prancing around town.
“Or just wear their unmentionables outside.”
“They’re not wearing underwear, just a different style,” Delia says with a laugh. “I’ve even got a few skimpy tops myself.”
“Really?” My lips quirk up at the sides. “You’ll have to model them for me. In private.”
Right on cue, her face turns red. My grin is wide as I get to the bedroom, and I begin to undress. Delia looks everywhere but at me.
“Uh, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and get dressed,” she says as she takes her bundle of clothes and zips out the door.
Hmph. Fine then.
I finish undressing, peel back the blanket, and crawl into bed.
A few moments later, Delia walks in dressed in plaid shorts and a white t-shirt.
She stands in the doorway, still and wide-eyed, just looking at me.
I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like I’m in anything fancy.
We always wore boring red panties under our uniforms for good luck, and I’ve got a bra on of course.
My camisole is a silly thing us girls made with the Wonder Belles logo, but nothing exciting.
I did take my hair down— maybe she thinks I look sloppy.
I smooth my hair and the front of my camisole self-consciously.
“Are you coming to bed or not?” I ask, patting the mattress beside me.