Cramp Winner: Harold has a discussion with Lucy about what makes them so special |
âMom, that statue moved.â âThatâs a mannequin, honey. Not a statue. And it didnât move. Theyâre not real.â âButâŚâ âNo buts. Come on. Weâre late. Your grandpa is waiting on us.â Harold passively watched the exchange, both with embarrassment and curiosity. He was embarrassed because the little girl had noticed him turn his head to a more comfortable position, and curious about why any grandpa was waiting on them. He decided to zone himself out for the rest of the day so as not to accidentally draw attention while also keeping in mind that heâd ask Lucy about it later. With the department store lights dimmed, Harold zoned back in just as the rattling of the caged entrance tumbled down to lock them in. Stepping from his pedestal with terrible grace, he found his way to the women's section. Lucy was already off her pedestal and talking with one of the more experienced âquins, Chuck. âHey, guys. Whatâs up?â Lucy smiled at Harold. Chuck did not. âHey, Hare. Weâre talking about those two lardos that spent an hour in Petite like they were gonna buy something.â Harold didnât know what to say, so he just nodded at Chuckâs comment. He saw Lucy roll her eyes and it made Harold wonder if they were talking about it or if only one of them was. âWell I had an interesting encounter today, too.â âReally,â asked Lucy. âHow so?â âA girl saw me turn my head a little and--â âSomeone saw you move?â âRelax, Chuck. Heâs new. Cut him a break.â Eyes wide, Chuck looked like he might explode. âHe could use a break.â Lucy shooed Chuck away and, with the brute out of earshot, said âYou really should be more careful, Harold. Other humans arenât lucky like us.â âWhat do you mean?â Gracefully taking his arm, Lucy began walking and said, âWell, weâre special. Right now we look like all those poorly dressed people that walk into our store. But when it comes time to display these trendy threads, we become⌠something else.â âMannequins.â âThatâs right, yes. But to be a mannequin is to harness special power. And thatâs why weâre here.â Harold looked around the dimly lit store. âWhere?â âIn this store, where weâre protected.â âProtected from who?â Lucy smiled tightly but Harold could detect she was growing tired of his questions. âWeâre protected from those who would exploit us and our gifts.â Grimacing, Harold said, âWhat gifts? I donât have any gifts.â âYes you do, and the other humans want it.â Stopping, she faced him. âThink about it: we live and breathe like all of them, but we are also able to blend into their backgrounds without notice.â âOkayâŚâ âAnd we can be⌠disassembled.â âYeah, so?â âHarold, you canât be this thick. I know you were âfactured just a few months ago, but it feels like you shouldâve picked up on some of this by now. To them,â she said, gesturing toward the roll-down gate at the front of the store, âweâre dummies. We wear their clothes and can we taken apart and put back together with ease.â âYeah, so?â âSo, they canât do that. Thatâs why they have the gall to walk around during the day. They donât have to hide who they are and what they can do. They donât have to hide that theyâre basically immortal.â âThey are?â âNo, we are!â âOh.â Harold paused. âHow so?â With a swift jerk of surprising strength, Lucy grabbed Haroldâs arm and tore it clean from his body. There was no blood. Harold felt more annoyed than anything. âYeah, so? The girls that put this stuff on me did that just yesterday.â âBut they canât do it.â âI just told you that they did do it. They took it clean off.â âNo, no. Shut up and listen,â she said, frustration lacing her tone. âYes, the workers can take your arms off, but they cannot remove their arms. They are humans of a different caliber. They are fragile, fleshy things.â âOh,â he said, still not entirely understanding what Lucy was talking about. âOkay. So⌠they canât take themselves apart. So what?â âSo what? Those people that come in here can die. But you and I will never die.â âNot ever?â âWell, eventually, yes. But it will take a lot more than having our arms ripped off. Pretty much the worse that can happen to us is being shoved into the chipper.â âAt the factory,â Harold said, remembering when he woke up for the first time. âThere was a sign that directed people toward a chipper.â He paused, his thoughts gaining momentum. âAre you saying that within the same place I was born, I could also die?â With sadness, Lucy said, âYeah. I guess thatâs true.â âAnd the people that walk around here?â âI donât know where theyâre born, but itâs not like us. But know this: if we were to walk around and visibly become harmed, they would see that we were different from them. Tearing off your arm is nothing like tearing off their limbs. Trust me,â she grimly added. âSo what if they knew that about us?â âTheyâd hunt us down, Harold. Perform experiments. Theyâd want to see why we canât truly be harmed. And theyâd want it for themselves. The regular humans are exploitative and dangerous. Donât ever let them know that youâre alive, because they will try their hardest to take everything from you.â Harold nodded and had another thought, but didnât ask it aloud. What if some people who walk through are like us? How would I know? When we move around, we all look the same! Smiling, he thanked Lucy. After attaching his arm, he moved back to his section, thinking about what it might be like to try and walk around with other humans, and maybe even find out where they came from. Word Count: 978 |