Chapter 36: Volume II: Chapter 3: Shopping

Chleo tapped her foot as she and Will stood in line at what quickly became their favorite food shack, a little popup on the side of one of the many designer goggle huts sprinkling the village.  They’d found it the first week on the day Dai took her shopping to replace everything she’d lost on Luna.  Will tagged along for something to do and was immediately assigned the important and necessary role as designated bag carrier. 

It was a new experience for Chleo.  Dai marched her through shop after shop, each boasting their specialities in their native language on the signs posted outside.  On Luna, she’d rarely stepped into a store, knowing everything would out price the hard-earned coins in her pouch.  In the Neon village Dai insisted on paying.

“I owe your parents a bit from the last time we saw each other anyway.  I’ll settle up by taking care of the purchases,” she said, refusing to budge.

They started with clothes, Chleo still clad in her borrowed cloak.  Dai led the way into a small hut a few blocks from the square, greeting the shopkeeper by name.  They started a rapid-fire conversation in Neonish… Neonese… Chleo made a note to learn the name of their language as the yellow woman came out from behind the register and started prodding her with a measuring tape.

The woman tutted as she looked at the numbers from her waist, singing her displeasure to the room.  “She says you need to eat more,” Dai translated, her laugh tinkling through the small space.  Chleo’s stomach growled as she smiled.  She couldn’t help but agree.

The woman disappeared behind a curtain in the back.  Rustles and clinks echoed out before she came back, a pile of fabric in her arms.  She bustled over to an empty rack and set to work hanging everything in her bundle.  Two jackets, three shirts, three trousers, and a pair of boots stared proudly back once she’d finished.

“What do you think?” Dai asked tilting her head toward the clothes.

Chleo stepped forward running her hand over the fabric.  One jacket was made from the same material as her borrowed cloak, the other from the familiar fabric of her old clothes.  The shirts were softer than the corse fabric she was used to and the trousers were rougher.  They looked strong enough to weather, at least, a few years without patches.

“They’re amazing,” she said picking out the jacket made from the new material.  “Do you think…” she hesitated unsure how shopping worked.  Dai gave her an encouraging nod, “Is there a way I could get this in green?”

Dai’s smile shrank a little.  “Sorry Chleo, Neon shops only sell customers their family colors.  Humans can only purchase black items.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she hastened to reassure her friend, not wanting to seem ungrateful, “this is perfect.”  

She smiled.  It really was.  She’d never had new clothes before.  Keeping the jacket and adding a shirt, pair of trousers, and the boots, she turned to Dai.

“I should be set with these,” she said hoping they wouldn’t cost Dai a fortune.

“Chleo,” Dai laughed, “Unless you absolutely despise something on the rack, we’re getting all of it.”

Chleo’s mouth fell open as she flicked a glance back at the outfits.  Three sets of shirts and trousers and two jackets, it was more than she’d ever seen, much less owned.  She knew families like the Putters must have more than one set of clothes, but it was never something she thought about.

“No really, Dai, it’s too much.  I don’t have a way to pay you back, and we still need to get my belt and goggles.”

“Nonsense,” she said, waving her concern away before saying something to the shopkeeper.  Dai’s blue and the woman’s yellow danced around the room as they talked, coming together in the center in a brilliant green that moved when they did.  The woman gathered the purchases before Chleo could protest again and disappeared behind the curtain.  

She came back out with a sly smile, everything packed away in bags.  Dai joined her at the register and presented her wristlet.  Chloe watched as she passed her ID badge over the platform sitting on the counter.  It flashed, identifying the owner, Dai Meadows appearing on the screen and the total.  As Dai pulled it back, Chleo caught a larger number flash on the glass screen under the words ‘Account Total,’ disappearing a few seconds later.

The women shared another short conversation.  Chleo caught the word ‘clothes’ before the yellow woman turned to her with a bright smile.  “En-joy clothes,” the shopkeeper said, mouthing around the foreign words.

“Mah ta,” she replied mirroring her expression, using the phrase Dai taught her the day before for thank you.  They handed the bag off to Will and wandered back out onto the street. 

“So green, huh?” Dai asked as they walked toward their next stop.  She pulled her sleeve up to tap something on her wristlet.  Chleo caught the word Mic before it faded.

“It’s been my favorite ever since I was little,” Chleo smiled, excited after the rush of buying something new.  She worried she could get used to it.  “Mom blames Dad.  Apparently, every toy he made me since I was a baby had to have green somewhere on it.”

Dai laughed. “Sounds like your dad.”

They rounded a corner, heading for a goggles hut before they were intercepted.  Mic came jogging up, stopping hands on his knees acting like he was out of breath.  

“I’m here,” he said, sucking in some air. “Am I too late?”

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Dai poked him in the side, rolling her eyes.  

“What, aren’t people supposed to be out of breath after they run?” he asked straightening up and cocking an eyebrow. “Especially, if they come all the way from the docks like I did.” 

“Sure, Mic.” Dai humored him, breathing out a soft laugh.

“Hey kiddo,” he said ruffling Chleo’s hair.  Will attempted to cover his snicker with a cough as she tried to duck away. “I have a present for you.”

Chleo perked up.  She’d been spending a lot of time on the ship with him lately while he taught her about his birds as promised.  The day before, he’d started helping her incorporate some of their properties into her attempt to rebuild the hover board. 

Mic pulled something from behind his back with all the pomp and circumstance she’d come to associate with him.  Music started to blast from concealed speakers somewhere in his jacket.  Confetti shot from two poppers sewn into his shoulders.  The colored paper fluttered down around the carefully crafted pouched belt he held out to her.

People on the street stared as they continued on their way.  She felt equal parts embarrassed and special as she reached for the belt.  It was almost exactly like the one her dad made for her, the one she’d lost.  She wrapped it around her waste, clasping it shut.  It was a perfect fit.

Despite her best efforts, a few rebel tears filled her eyes.

“What?” Mic’s face fell.  “What did I do?  I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” she said with a watery smile, flipping open pouches to get an idea of where she could pack different items.  A few were already full with gearhead essentials.  More tears picked up the rebel call.

Will clasped Mic on the shoulder smirking at his bewildered look.  “You did well, Mic.”

“Uh huh,” he said still unconvinced, shrugging he traded confusion for a roguish grin. “Anyone hungry?  I know this perfect little food shack.”

“Good idea,” Dai said a sly glint making the corner of her lips quirk.  “We can grab it and eat it by the square before finishing up with Chleo’s goggles.”

“That’s a great idea,” Will jumped in, oblivious to Mic’s suddenly wide eyes.  There was always something interesting to watch near the canal. 

“On second thought, I might jog back to the docs.  I think I left something cooking, or charging, or something,” he said, finishing with a muttered debasement of any and all things that blocked technology.

“Oh, come on, Mic.  I was only joking.  We’ll grab some food and find a nice, interesting place far, far away from the square.”  Dai laughed.

“That was mean,” he said to her. “That was mean, and now I’m not going to share my bread braids with you.”

“Bread braids?” Chleo looked up, finally getting control over her happy tears.  Mic’s face lit up.

“Oh, my dear, sweet, Luna-raised Chleo, do we have a treat for you.”

They did.  It was the most glorious piece of bread she’d ever eaten.  Baked in any way a person or Neon could imagine, savory, sweet, stuffed or not, the finger sized braids poking out of a disposable carton immediately became her favorite food.

After a quick meal and an even quicker trip to buy some goggles, there were too many choices, Mic ended up picking them for her, promising to teach her how to use them later, Chleo found herself back in her temporary hut.  The bags Will carried for her were strewn across the table.  Reaching into one, she decided to change for dinner.  

She pulled out the first shirt.  It was bright green.  A smile spread across her face as she pulled out the rest, all black save for three of the softest green shirts she’d ever seen.  

“Thank you, Dai,” she muttered into the empty hut.

Will nudged her out of the memory as the line moved.  Chleo tugged on the green fabric of her shirt, taking a step forward, a sharp contrast to the black coloring her jacket.  She could almost taste the bread braids.  

The smell as the shack pushed a new batch into the firebrick oven filled the street.  Her foot continued to tap.  She stared at the customers ahead, trying to figure out if she could guess the recipe and make them herself to avoid the line.  Waiting was never one of her strengths.

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