Page 12 of Little Etheldreda Riding Hood

Chapter Five

In Which Our Protagonist Doesn't Get a Job in Sex Work

Aquiet week passes at Darla’s, and that one week slowly melds into another. After my first day, I force myself to stick to a regular sleep schedule and have dinner ready for Darla at night. Then we watch some more “old people TV” before going to bed.

During the day when she’s at work, I walk the wildlife trails behind the trailer park. I used to wander them when I was little, pretending to be a princess. Now I walk them trying to get Zach out of my head. Turns out I’m not fit for one-night stands either.

All I can think about are his eyes and how fixated on my scent he was. Scent is such a big thing for wolves and it’s crazy how that one compliment seems to do things to my brain that other compliments don’t.

He was just being nice.

He’s just another wolf like all the rest.

It’s been two weeks, he’s bound to have found another girl to keep his bed warm.

Around and around my thoughts go–the only good thing about them is they’ve completely replaced the Morgan mess in my head.

I walk further now than I did back then, unafraid of the forest, and end up in all sorts of places–an apple orchard, a working mine, and what looks like it might be the back of Darla’s vet clinic. I meet lots of animals on my walks too–neighbors’ dogs, lots of cats, and even some chickens. The funniest new friends I meet are a group of three pigs who just seem to wander about as if they own the place.

Mostly, I do whatever I have to do to stay off the internet and social media. Mae texts me daily, telling me what our pack’s up to, but she keeps Morgan and Willa out of it. She tells me Mrs. James asks about me, and I wish I could tell her about the one night I got to take her advice.

Darla presses me on nothing. The only incident that catches me slightly off guard happens my first Saturday night when she works her side hustle and comes home asking if I’ve ever been to the Wild Hare.

I nod, forgetting my sleeping at a rest stop story and tell her the half truth, “I stopped in to use their restroom.”

Darla doesn’t bring it up again, and I don’t press it. But now, looking back on it, maybe I should have.

On my second Friday night at Darla’s, the whole house is woken up when Winifred, a long-haired black and white cat, gets a little too close to the joeys and Morticia understandably loses her mind.

When I come into the living room, Darla is on the couch, whispering calming words to Winifred while Morticia stares them down from the top of the TV.

“Wanna go grab some breakfast since you’re up?” Darla asks. She’s in her usual down-to-the-floor nightgown.

“What time is it?” I ask, yawning.

“Three.”

I rub my face as my eyes water. “There’s a place to get breakfast at three a.m.? Like an all-night diner?”

“Something like that. Wanna go?”

I nod, still not quite awake. “Sure, let me change.”

Darla shakes her head. “It’s a ‘come as you are’ kind of place.”

Darla heads outside to start up her truck while I go find some boots to put over my pajama bottoms. I pull my jacket over my top, a beanie over my unbrushed hair, and meet Darla at the door. She’s still in her long gown and has an equally long jacket over it.

“Where’s Winifred?” I ask her.

She smiles. “Asleep on my bed. They’ll be fine. They have the occasional row every now and again.”

I smile. I’ve never actually heard someone use the word “row” in a sentence. She drives us in her pickup truck out of the trailer park and to the main road. She makes a right to head back to town, the old truck rattling with every bump and pothole it hits.

To my surprise, she pulls into the parking lot in front of the Korean restaurant I saw on my way through town and hops out. The lights inside are the only ones illuminated along the road.

“Hey, Darla!” several voices call out as I follow her into the restaurant. A small Korean woman with a bright white apron wrapped around her waist comes from the back.

She’s beautiful–her glossy black hair is pulled back in a single braid that falls down her back. Gray hair at her temples seems to point to her being older, but her face has no trace of wrinkles. She should be giving out skin care tips instead of working in a restaurant.

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