Lealand and Martha were out late. On any other night, the two of them would have been back at the orphanage. Scrubbed, dried, and in their pajamas waiting for the administrator to make her rounds. However, tonight was no ordinary night. This was the night of Martha’s thirteenth birthday and Lealand had a surprise for her. 

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     Martha had made sure to dress in layers for this outing as this fall had been particularly cold. The coat she wore was plenty warm if just a bit too big. The donation was so fresh that she could still smell the previous child on its lapels. It had plenty of pockets where she’d store her Lava-cream candies. They were her favorite treat, partially for the taste and partially for the fact that none of her friends found them in the slightest bit appealing, so she never had to share. 

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     The pair tiptoed briskly down the city sidewalk, quickly dipping into alleys as headlights came into view. After a few blocks, Lealand stopped. Martha, not paying attention bumped into him. Lealand, annoyed, peaked around the corner of the worn brick wall. The alleyway ahead was still, save for a small army of flies dancing above a dumpster. A small neon sign flickered next to a door. It may have been an advertisement for a beer brand but the children couldn’t be sure. Lealand waved a hand toward himself. 

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“This is it. Come on.” said Lealand. 

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     Martha hurried behind Lealand, who was practically skipping with excitement. Martha pulled her coat over her nose. The stench of the dumpster was unbearable enough but she couldn’t ignore the faint hint of urine. Lealand looked back and noticed her impromptu breathing mask. 

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“Pretty gross, huh?” 

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Martha nodded. 

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     Upon reaching the door Lealand made one last scan of the alleyway then reached up and knocked on the door three times. The two stood there for what seemed like ages. Lealand, growing impatient, reached up once more. Just as he was about to knock again the children heard a “click” then a small window in the door slid open. Two yellowed eyes peered down toward Martha. 

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“I got all the cookies I could ever want. Now scram!” the creature grunted. 

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“Come on Angus, open the door.” Lealand barked. 

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     Angus, pleased with himself, undid the chain then swung open the door. Angus was a measly creature. His long black hair was matted and greasy. Under his nose and around his mouth was the suggestion of a beard. A beard which, he grew to hide the acne. And below that beard, on the left side of his neck was a tattoo of an empty spool. He welcomed them in and motioned at their feet. 

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“Wipe ‘em” he ordered. “Don’t track any of that piss inside”. 

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     Lealand and Martha complied. Angus led them into the building. In the room were towers of cardboard boxes. Between the boxes were plastic bags filled with various items. Some contained medical tubing, others held composition notebooks and pencils. Martha approached an open box and pulled the plastic lining away. Inside was two dozen cans of ham. 

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“You should have seen my face when I found out people eat that junk.” Angus chuckled. “Come on, the chair’s in the other room.” 

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     Angus closed the flaps of the box and pushed the children into the next room. In the middle of room was a reclined leather chair. The seat was riddled with tears and dimples. The arm rests were even more tattered. Next to the chair was a stool and a silver tray with several instruments on top. Hanging above it all was a cheap looking book lamp that swayed slightly due to the standing fan in the corner. 

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“Surprise!” Sung Lealand. “We’re getting our Spools!” 

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Martha squealed with joy.

 

“Listen kid, I don’t make it a habit of tattooing minors, but I owed your buddy a favor for doing some jobs for me.” said Angus. “So there are a couple of rules. First things first, this place doesn’t exist! If your parents-”

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“We’re orphans, you tool.” Lealand retorted.

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“Right, sorry. Well, if you guys get questioned by anyone, I wasn’t the one who gave these to you.

Understand?”

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The children nodded.

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“Lastly, you two can’t cover these up. Getting your spool is no joke. Once you get it, that’s it, you’re fully-fledged Unwoven. Unabashed and unashamed. You hear me? That means it goes on the front of your neck where you can’t hide it. Got it, Lealand? Mary?”

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“It’s Martha.” spouted Lealand while placing a hand on Martha’s shoulder. “We won’t snitch, and we won’t hide it. Jeez, you’re fraying us out. We’re gonna be forced to get them in a couple of years anyway.”

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“I’m being serious, you little brat. It doesn’t matter if you get it by force or by choice. Being an

Unwoven means constantly worrying that you’re going to get stopped and searched for no reason. That career options lie somewhere between maid and grave digger. That every single night you’re going to come home to rats, lice, and sewage because we can’t live with the Weavers. But we have something our overlords don’t. And that’s genuine community.”

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     Angus walked over to a drawer and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. After placing them over his thin fingers, he pointed to his neck.

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“Outside of this neighborhood and others like it, this tattoo means that I’m garbage. No, less than that. I am a blight. A curse, if you will. If genocide wasn’t generally frowned upon that bastard, Yarisi, would have gotten rid of us a long time ago but here we are. But here, we are family. And family means that if you need anything at all, we’ll take care of you.”

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He walked to the corner of the room and turned the fan off.

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“Those boxes, they’re how we fight back. If those fascists won’t give us a chance at equality, then

we’re going to take it and make our own” He sat down on the stool and thumbed through his tools.

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“There’s always room for more, though. This mission, this fight for a future for every single Unwoven, is going to need as many of us as possible.”

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Angus stared at Martha and reached out his gloved hand.

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“So what do you say. Getting the Spool is one thing, but how about you make it really count. Let’s take what should have been ours from the beginning.”

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Marsha looked over at Lealand. He stood there stoic, almost holding his breath.

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“He can’t make this decision for you. Only you can.”

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     Martha looked into his Angus’ eyes for a moment. She then peeled off her coat and jammed it into Lealand’s chest. Pulling her hair back, she sat in the chair and grasped the arm rests with all her might.“

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Make it big.” she smirked.

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Angus turned on his tattoo gun and the buzzing filled the room.

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“Welcome to the family, Martha Francis.”