Into the Velvet

The Beginning

Since it was the day of my discharge, I had to pay a visit to a very special lady. She wasn't difficult to find.

"Hey, Inka."

She didn't look up. Inka's eyes were glazed over, watching a re-run of Martha Stewart baking a ham on one of those repeat cooking channels. Inka loved the cooking channels best.

I took this as permission to sit next to her. The two-seater couch was old and stale. It fit the two of us just fine. Maybe some part of me would miss this ugly couch. I doubted it.

"Inka?" I waved a hand over her face.

She made a deep sound of annoyance. Swatting back my arm. "Beat it, freak."

"In a few hours, I will. But I still have time to kill with you. Don't you wanna know what I've brought you?"

She flickered her eyes to me. Her shiny head refracting light. "A present?"

"Yeah. A present." I held up Olly's box of donuts as my offering. "I can't eat all of these myself."

I couldn't even finish my sentence. She grabbed the box and tore into the lid, sniffing out the ones which were filled with raspberry jam. Inka took two bites in the place of one. Her look of bliss was utterly memorable — her eyes fluttered shut, and the lines of worry on her forehead smoothed over. She looked so much younger that way. I could at last pinpoint her approximate age; no older than thirty.

That meant that she'd been here for most of her adult life. Unlike me, she didn't have the option to leave.

"Is it good?" I asked tentatively.

She took another bite. And then another. Fingers and mouth covered in dusty sugar. Then she moaned. "Sweet. I like sweet."

I laughed lightly. "Me too. I think I'm sick of them now. Never thought I'd say that."

She worked hard to talk around her chewing. I'd made an offering, and she opened herself to me to return the gesture. "You never shared." She scowled darkly. "I wanted some. You never shared with me."

"Oh."

My face fell. Now it made sense. Inka was always trying to catch me off guard, often just to start trouble. Always with that same scowl. She simply wanted a slice of what I took for granted — something from the outside world. A kind gesture from a loved one.

I that Inka didn't have loved ones.

Her honesty touched me. "I'm sorry, Inka. I should've just asked you what you wanted, instead of pushing you away. That was inconsiderate of me."

She didn't seem that upset. In fact, she was licking all around her fingers. Right into the webs of her hands. "Can I have the rest?" she asked.

Then she reached down and touched every single donut. I wasn't going to say no after that. I made a gesture that she could go head.

Inka began to eat and talk. Talk and eat. "Used to live in a bakery. Upstairs."

I perked up at that. "Really?"

She nodded furiously. "Mom and Pop owned a bakery. I used to steal. Used to get caught. And then—pop!" she said, pretending to knock her clean-shaven head on a donut. "Then I became no good."

My eyebrows furrowed together. I couldn't imagine her being well — but then again, in the past, I would've been hard pressed to imagine me ending up here. Especially with her as my neighbour.