The Other McCawber Girl
by Amanda Rohrssen
Chapter Three
Love is trusting, love is honest,
Love is not a hand to hold you down,
I don't know when I got bitter,
But love is surely better when it's gone
~Tonic, "You Wanted More"
She blinked a few times, his words not settling in completely. “P-pardon me?” she managed. Her throat had gone dry and her tongue seemed to have grown five times its normal
size.
“I said, ‘you’re hired,’” repeated the duck in spats sitting on the other side of the large mahogany desk.
Ariana sat a few moments more in stunned silence, her mind reeling.
“Are you all right, lassie?” he questioned with his heavy Scottish accent, raising an eyebrow.
She snapped back to the present and smiled appreciatively. “Oh yes, I just . . . I can’t believe . . . Oh thank you, Mr. McDuck!”
“All right, never mind that. You start tomorrow. Here’s the address, and don’t be late!”
“Yes sir, Mr. McDuck. Thanks again!”
With a smile that refused to leave her bill, Ariana drifted out of the lofty skyscraper as if she were walking on air. It had been such a long time since anybody had given her a real chance at anything. It felt to her an opportunity to prove herself. She was determined not to let her new employer down.
When the first day of work arrived for Ariana she felt more nervous than she had ever been in all her life. Nausea gripped her insides and her stomach churned ceaselessly.
She had found a tiny apartment near the north side of Duckburg, using a loan Mr. McDuck had been kind enough, albeit reluctant, to grant her for the deposit and first month’s rent. Why he had been so obliging she never knew.
As she walked down the cracked sidewalk from her apartment building toward McDuck Studios, all she could think about was what could go wrong and how she could prevent those things from happening. She wanted so desperately to make a good impression and, she hoped, to make some friends. If the normals in Duckburg were anything like the ones in Transylvania, she knew the latter would be much, much harder.
At last she came before the enormous iron gates. Pausing, she gazed up at them in awe, her bill hanging open slightly. Except for the McDuck Studios at the top, they looked almost exactly like the gates at home.
A horn blared suddenly from behind her, nearly making her lose all of her feathers.
“Outta the way, ya fat cow!” a brassy voice thundered.
Quickly she jumped to the side of the street just as a Jaguar sped by her, nearly
clipping her as it flew through the studio gates after being given clearance. The driver was a balding, paunchy dog with red tufts of hair combed flat against his miniscule head.
Ariana gulped, shaking a little, and walked up to the security station, the man’s voice still ringing inside of her head.
“ID,” the droopy-eyed guard said listlessly as he held out his hand.
“W-what?” Ariana replied in surprise. Mr. McDuck had said nothing about obtaining any specific identification.
“ID! You know, the card they issue ya on your first day. It’s got your picture in the corner there,” he pulled out his own ID card as he explained, obviously grateful for anything to do besides watch the grass grow, “and your employee number at the bottom there. You do have one of these, don’t you?”
She bowed her head and shook it, looking up at him bashfully.
“’S your first day, huh?” He smiled kindly. “Don’t worry about it; it’s not that bad,” he added after she had nodded the affirmative. “First timers go over to that door right there and down a flight of stairs straight into the office. You can’t miss it.”
Feeling herself blush, Ariana flashed him a grateful smile and quickly turned away before heading in the direction he’d indicated.
“Have a good day, ma’am!” he called after her, waving his guard’s cap. “If you get bored, you can always come and see me! The name’s Trey!”
Now she knew her face was red.
She had found the office easily and clutched her newly acquired ID card anxiously in her hand. Up three flights in the elevator and to the right. Mr. Dodson, she
repeated to herself. The last thing she wanted was to get lost in this huge building full of strangers.
The next thing she knew she was looking up at thick gold letters outlined in black that read:
It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, she reassured herself, taking a long, deep breath to calm her nerves. She knocked softly on the door with the knuckle of her index finger.
“Yes?” an austere baritone snapped from within.
Mustering every ounce of courage that she could, Ariana wrapped her lithe fingers around the doorknob and pushed it open. An overweight canine with wisps of red hair clinging to his bald head looked up from a pile of papers with an intimidating scowl. The same canine who had nearly run her over earlier.
“About time you showed up,” he snarled, obviously not recognizing her.
She glanced at the clock. She was five minutes early.
“Let’s make this fast.” He sighed loudly, as if showing her around was the biggest annoyance in the world, and gave her a quick tour of the office.
“Here’s yer desk. Don’t ask me for a bigger one; that’s all ya get, understand?!”
She nodded her head meekly, even though such a thought had never crossed her mind.
“If ya got any questions, keep ‘em to yerself! I got enough o’ my own work to do without some lame-brained girl askin’ me stupid questions. Now get started!” That said, he lumbered away from her cubicle. Ariana didn’t exhale until she heard his office door slam shut. Her knees faltered and she sank into the stiff wooden office chair, shaking all over. Mr. Dodson scared her. Half of her wished she could go back to Mr. McDuck while the other half wanted to just go back home. Doing the former would make her seem ungrateful, and doing the latter would demolish any hope left of following her dreams.
“Don’t let that numbskull scare ya,” a voice piped in from directly in front of her.
Ariana’s head shot up toward the sound and locked eyes with a curly-haired duck around her own age who was peering at her from over the neighboring cubicle wall.
“My theory about why he’s so grouchy,” she continued, “is he’s upset that his stubby arms can’t pick the wedgie out of his month-old briefs.”
She giggled at her own joke and Ariana joined in, automatically feeling a little more at ease.
“First day, huh?” the girl’s head asked.
Ariana simply nodded with a small, nervous smile.
“I’m Krysten.” She extended an arm over the top of the carpeted wall with an exuberant grin.
“I’m Ariana,” Ariana replied, shaking the girl’s hand.
“Ow, ow!”
Ariana immediately let go.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-"
“Just kidding,” Krysten grinned, laughing spitefully. “You’re all right, kid.”
Ariana did not like being teased like that; it humiliated her. Nor did she like being called “kid,” but Krysten seemed nice enough she supposed. She was the first person to bother introducing herself to her, anyway. Maybe Duckburg wouldn’t be so bad after all.
It had been some months since Ariana had started her job at McDuck Studios, and she was growing accustomed to her new life, though at times she longed to see her family. Especially her sister.
Oftentimes she would wonder what Morgana had been doing, what she was doing at that moment, and if she would ever see her again. Other times she would think of Terren and her life at The Webminster Academy of the Dark Arts, and her heart would sink. For all of the happy times she had had with her friends of the past, they were all gone now – either having betrayed her or forgotten her – and to think of them was to put herself through a miserable longing that she knew she couldn’t banish because it was impossible to go back and change things. She also knew it was useless to dwell on old wounds, but no matter how much she tried erasing them from her mind, the scars were still there. Even if she had done things differently, it would have been lying to herself, and that above all else she would not do.
“Hey! Ariana!” a voice cut into her thoughts. She blinked, coming back to the present to find Krysten not a foot away from her, staring.
“Huh?”
“I said your name, like, five times. You okay, kid?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Ariana replied, suppressing a flare of anger at the nickname.
“Okay,” Krysten shrugged. “What’re you doin’ later?”
“After work?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“’Cause me and some friends are going to The Roxy tonight. Wanna come?”
“The Roxy? What’s that?” Ariana asked curiously, already getting an inkling of aversion.
“Boy, you haven’t been around, have you? It’s a dance club. You ever been to one of those?” Her tone was slightly patronizing to Ariana, though not intentionally so.
“No,” Ariana replied evenly.
“Then you have to come. No excuses. I’ll come get you at eleven, okay?”
Against her better judgment but determined to fit in, Ariana nodded slowly.
“Good. See you then!”
With that, Krysten rounded the corner and out of view. Ariana planted her elbows on top of the desk and rubbed her temples. It was true she wanted to live the life of a normal, but…dancing?
“Boys! Line up! Girls! Take a rose!”
Ariana slipped toward the bucket brimming with black, dead roses, feeling the sting of anxiety swarming through her. She chanced a look at Devin and suddenly grew warm and cold all at the same time. He was so handsome.
Ouch! Immediately her finger went into her mouth and she could taste the metallic, salty flavor of blood. Glancing down at her rose’s stem she could see her blood gleaming on one of the thorns.
“Today I’ll be teaching you the traditional Transylvanian Waltz. Girls, once you’ve chosen your rose…”
The rest of what Ms. Spector was saying was lost to Ariana. Devin was standing only a few feet away, talking to the boy next to him while the instructor was speaking. Even though she knew it was rude, somehow that made him all the more endearing to her.
Abruptly her heart leapt into her throat. Had he looked over at her just then? Was he talking about her? Oh God…he was looking at her, and…and he was smiling with those perfect dimples of his!
Maybe he wants me to choose him! she thought excitedly, trying not to clutch the rose too tightly.
“…must dance with the girl who hands him her rose. To do otherwise will result in dire consequences.”
Suddenly an organ chord blared eerily through the gym and lightening flashed along with a roll of thunder at Ms. Spector’s final two words. All of the students in the Webminster gym flinched.
The boy beside Devin whispered loudly, “Where’d that organ music come from?”
Before Devin could reply, Ms. Spector hissed at him warningly.
As soon as her face settled back into its sour frown, Victorian-era symphony music filled the room and they all looked at one another uncertainly, save for one black-haired wolf. Devin looked right in Ariana’s direction expectantly, his attractive smile still playing about his jaws. Ariana could barely swallow.
From seemingly off in the distance, Ms. Spector’s voice said, “Choose your partner.”
As if of their own free will, Ariana’s bare webbed feet flitted directly to Devin, who was now grinning broadly. Tentatively, her stomach in knots, she held out her rose to him. His smile dropped noticeably as his eyes fell to the rose before him. His handsome face darkened slightly, and he looked up at the rose’s owner with well-masked disappointment. Grudgingly, Devin took the rose from her hand, accidentally brushing against her fingers and sending a thrill through her from her beak to her toes. He then glanced quickly over at Ms. Spector, who was giving him a pointed look, before slowly stepping toward Ariana, taking her hand in his, and wrapping his other arm around her waist.
It was like a dream come true, something that someone could only feel in a fairy tale. She was floating, falling, flying through the very wish she had envisioned countless times before. Except that this time she could feel the taunt muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt where her hand lay upon his shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his breath upon her hair, the warmth of his body against hers. It was almost more than she could bear.
As if to make doubly sure that this wasn’t just another daydream, Ariana lifted her head to stare into the steel blue eyes that had entranced her since her first day at Webminster. The way his unkempt bangs shrouded parts of his eyes and forehead from view made something flicker in the pit of her stomach that she’d never felt before. Drunk with happiness, it was devastating when the music was abruptly silenced and Devin’s touch was gone. She blinked as if waking from a deep sleep and watched Devin walk toward his group of friends. Impulsively she took a step after him but stopped when a piercing pain shot through her foot. Lifting it slightly she saw her black rose demolished on the wax, sweat-stained floor of the gym. Slowly, with the gentleness of a mother with a newborn, Ariana lifted it into her arms and admired it as if it were the most beautiful jewel in all of Transylvania.
I’m always going to remember this day, she promised herself.
Though still feeling slightly faint, she glided toward Devin and the group of boys surrounding him.
This is it. I’m going to do it. I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to ask Devin Crawler on a date. Oh God – Goddess – whatever Powers exist, please let him say yes. I’ve had a crush on him for four years – please let it finally turn into more than that. I want to know what it’s like to have…a boyfriend.
All of a sudden she halted in her tracks. She had heard her name amongst the pubescent male voices in the ring. Some snickering followed. An uncomfortable feeling wafted over her, but Ariana resumed stepping closer to them.
“Shut up!” she heard Devin snap quietly. “It’s not like I chose to dance with that freak! Ms. Spector would’ve put a hex on me or something!”
Again, she stopped dead.
“Regina Featherbelle was going to give me her rose but that stupid McCawber girl got in the way! I only danced with her because I had to! It’s not like I like her or anything!”
One of the boys sniggering turned his head and caught a glimpse of Ariana. Instantly he whipped back toward the group and whispered loudly, “Hey! I think she heard you!”
Devin poked his head out from the middle of the cluster and sneered at her haughtily. “Good.”
The boys parted as he stalked toward Ariana and leaned down menacingly, looking right into her eyes.
“If you think you’ve got a chance with a guy like me, you’d better check your crystal ball again. Just because you’re a McCawber witch doesn’t mean that I’m going to treat you better than you deserve! You’re a freak and a brainiac AND you’re ugly! Just look at yourself!” Spiteful laughter erupted from his throat and his face twisted with contempt and malice at the sight of her watering eyes.
She did not flee in tears as she would have done were it anyone else, nor did she tremble or wail or show any outward sign of emotion except for the untamable liquid in her eyes that she longed to gain control of.
“What’s going on here?” Ms. Spector barked, coming out of the back room.
“Nothing. Just putting someone in their place,” muttered Devin callously as he led the rest of the boys out of the gym.
Ariana stood there, clenching her hands in tiny fists and gritting her teeth together, but it was no use. She suddenly began to tremble violently, such that her knees gave way beneath her and she crumpled to the floor, sobbing wretchedly. Covering her face with her hands in an attempt to muffle her miserable cries, she staggered to her feet and ran blindly toward the doors leading outside.
Black petals lay scattered where she had fallen, along with a thorn-adorned stem. And among the rose pieces glistened countless drops of crimson blood.
The chill touch of a hand around her wrist startled her, chasing the remnants of memory back into the far reaches of her mind.
“Ready, kid?”
They were just outside of The Roxy, and the bouncers had already checked their ID’s to make sure that they were at least 18. Ariana felt ridiculous in the outfit Krysten had made her wear, not to mention that she was freezing in the chill January air. She also felt cheap underneath the layers and layers of make-up that Krysten had painted on her face, but if that was what she had to wear to fit in that was what she would wear.
The chest-thumping beat of the music blared obnoxiously from within and the stench of cigarette smoke coiled through the air toward them like transparent claws, beckoning them into the shallow darkness.
Ariana swallowed meekly and nodded, letting Krysten pull her inside. Immediately they were engulfed by a swarm of people dancing, bumping, grinding, rubbing against one another, and Ariana clung as fiercely as she could to Krysten’s hand, apologizing quietly each time she brushed against someone as they inched through the crowd with the music blasting in their ears. Deeper and deeper they walked into the neon-illuminated haze until the immense heat made their palms so sweaty that Ariana’s fingers began slipping out of Krysten’s hand. Afraid of being stranded in this sea of hormonal, gyrating bodies, Ariana clutched at Krysten’s fingers just as somebody bumped into her, jerking their hands apart.
Oh no, she thought frantically, searching all of the bobbing faces for Krysten’s.
The music abruptly turned sour in her ears, taunting and scorning her. The unfamiliar masses undulated around her, trapping her in a menacing, heaving, pulsing ring of nauseating smells and sensuous movements. Ariana had never felt so out-of-place in her life. More than anything she wanted Krysten to reappear and save her from this circle of strangers that crept toward her more and more as each moment passed.
Panic exploded in her stomach when she distinctly felt a man’s lower region come into contact with the small of her back.
“Hey baby,” he murmured overly-suavely into her ear – the rank smell of alcohol on his breath.
Instinctively Ariana leapt away from him as if he were a poisonous viper. Frightened tears threatened to spill down her face, but she held them back, wriggling desperately through the crowd until finally her salvation came into view. An empty barstool. With a grateful sigh she raced toward it and plopped down on the flat wooden top. No one was seated near her, only a few people scattered here and there at the opposite end or on the other side of the square-shaped bar. The bartender in the middle of the square eyed her with amusement and asked her what she wanted to drink.
She replied with a shake of her head. “Nothing.”
It would be another year before she could drink alcohol according to normal law anyway.
Suddenly feeling exhausted, Ariana placed an elbow on the bar top and rested her cheek in her hand.
I wonder where Krysten is… she thought miserably. She probably doesn’t even realize I’m gone. Why did I even come? I knew this was a bad idea.
You didn’t know a dance club would be like this, another voice replied logically from within her mind. Now you know so you can avoid them later.
The pounding music was beginning to give her a headache. She groaned loudly and propped up the other elbow to bury her face in her hands.
She did not notice the young, clean-shaven duck watching her from the stool diagonally to her right. Nor did she notice the bartender now standing directly in front of her, holding a drink out with an impatient expression scrawled across his haggard, sleep-deprived features.
The sound of a glass slamming against the countertop jolted Ariana from her woeful musings. She stared at it for a few seconds before looking up at the grouchy bartender, confusion written across her make-up caked face.
“B-but I didn’t order-"
“From dat guy,” the bartender snapped, pointing at the young man who was now talking to two other guys with his back to the bar.
She couldn’t stop the heat that rose to her face, nor the shy smile that spread across her bill. “Oh, but I’m not old enough to-" She cut herself off when the bartender leaned down toward her with a very unfriendly glare.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Her beak opened but no words came out. Instead she gulped and nodded slowly until he rose and went to fill another customer’s order.
She looked down at the drink for a few long moments, studying its vibrant blue color and wondering what it tasted like and why someone would buy one for her. She took another glance in his direction and just as he was about to turn back around, someone grabbed her forearm and pulled her roughly away from the bar. Relief washed over Ariana when she realized it was Krysten. Praising every god and goddess she’d ever heard of, Ariana shuffled quickly behind her sour-faced friend out of the club and into the freedom of the cool night air. Two steps out of the doors and Ariana paused to close her eyes and take a deep, comforting breath.
Krysten had yanked her away from the bar in such a huff that she had not had time to taste her drink let alone get a glimpse of the face of the man who had bought it for her. No stranger had ever bought anything for her before. She felt her face growing hot again. Could it be that a guy…liked her…?
No, she answered that tiny hopeful voice flatly. Stop doing this to yourself. You’ll only end up getting yourself hurt if you let yourself believe in something that’s never going to happen. She shook her head sharply until Krysten’s voice pierced her thoughts.
“Ariana! Come on! I’m tired! Let’s go!” she shouted impatiently from across the parking lot.