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The globe lights on the walls glow softly with a golden light. It’s pretty in here; like a bookstore from old times. It’s similar to Wilford’s apartment on Big Alice, but with none of the obnoxious opulence, dripping with wealth. It’s comfortable and homey here. It’s rarely crowded, since only First Class has access to it. Alex likes to come in here when she’s not meeting LJ or taking the helm; just sitting on the couch or on one of the window seats, reading.
The books are jumbled together; no effort’s been made to group them according to category. Textbooks sit next to knitting books. A Bible is squashed up against a trashy romance novel. Alex takes out the Bible, opens it. Wilford had neglected to teach her about religions. I am the one true religion! he’d said. ‘There is no god’ is scrawled across the pages. Alex sighs and puts it back. There’s nothing to be had there. Alex looks down the aisles: she is alone. She pushes aside two books on the bottom shelf and withdraws the ratty copy of Juno of Taris. She’d found it three weeks ago on a previous late-night visit. The main character Juno appeals to her: the pluckiness, the curiosity, the loyalty to her family. Alex sits down on one of the window seats and opens it where she’s dog-eared the page.
…the four of them kissed us goodnight and walked out into the rainy dark, leaving us alone with the problem they’d lived with for most of their adult lives. To tell or to stay silent. To risk the destruction of our world…
The floorboards creak a little ways away from her; Alex freezes in anticipation of someone finding her, but nobody comes. It’s late: nobody would come to the library of all places. If they weren’t sleeping, they’d be in the First Class dining room or the Nightcar. Alex wonders what’s going on at the engine: there’d only be Bennett and Javi there now. Melanie had made an exit shortly before Alex had left for the library. She always did this: once a week, late at night when she wasn’t on shift, she’d leave and come back as the sun was rising. Alex didn’t ask her where she was going, and her mom never volunteered that information. Melanie would come back looking slightly dishevelled, but that was it. Alex didn’t think too much of it. It wasn’t her business where her mom went—Melanie always showed up for her shift and spent time with Alex, so who cared? She was allowed to have her own life. Besides, Alex was often too busy spending time with LJ or driving the train to worry about what her mom was doing.
Alex reads a little further into her book, until she is interrupted by the appearance of a cat. It’s incongruous with the rest of the train: animals that aren’t for eating don’t belong on ark trains. Alex lets out a breath; she hasn’t seen one in at least seven years. Not since departure. She’d begged her mom for one, but Melanie refused to budge. We don’t have space, honey. Many playdates were spent at cat-owning friends’ houses for consolation. Alex never thought about it after departure, but it feels like she almost forgot what they looked like. “Hey, boy,” Alex says softly, holding her hand out for the cat to sniff. “Hey, boy. Where did you come from, huh?” The cat doesn’t try to escape when she picks him up. He looks well-fed and shiny, so someone must have been feeding him. The cat purrs and snuggles up to Alex, clearly comfortable with people. “Are you a pet?” she asks him, and he meows in response. Wilford didn’t allow animals on Big Alice, except when they were for eating. Really, Alexandra, it’s an unnecessary indulgence. Alex opens her book again, lets the cat lie across her lap.
The door open from the far side of the car, and what sounds like two pairs of footsteps come in. Alex stays where she is, too engrossed in her book and the cat to see who it is. The door slams shut. The footsteps move a little closer, to where the couch is. Whoever came in isn’t very chatty: all she can hear is heavy breathing, and the sound of kissing.
Alex snorts and scratches the cat behind its ears. Occasionally an enterprising couple would come in to have some romantic time in the library. On Snowpiercer, there were painfully few spots where you were guaranteed privacy. The library at nighttime could usually be relied upon to be empty. They never stayed long enough to be an annoyance, so Alex just let them be.
This goes on for some time: the kissing and the panting, until one of the mystery people decides to break the silence—“Oh, Melanie,” they moan, and Alex’s stomach drops. Oh no…please tell me that’s not…she peeks through the shelves to where the couch is. Audrey and her mom are sitting on it, passionately kissing. Alex claps a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. That was why Melanie left earlier: she was having sordid adventures with Audrey! Alex knew they were in a loving relationship, but not that they snuck around like this. They are not making any effort to be demure either; Audrey’s already got her hand up Melanie’s shirt. Have they no shame? Alex cannot believe what she is seeing. Even more unbelievable is the knowledge that she’s completely stuck. The only door out of the car is at the other end, where the couch is. The subtrain access hatch is closer, but Alex would still have to walk out in the open. She’d die of embarrassment if she had to walk past her mom canoodling with Audrey. Melanie would never be able to look Alex in the eye again, that much she knows. Alex isn’t so stupid to think that her mom and Audrey don’t do the things people do in relationships, but hearing it is bad enough, and seeing it is something else entirely. Above all, she's incredulous: wouldn't one of them maybe check before going at it in a public place?
“I locked the door,” Melanie says breathlessly. “I don’t think anyone will disturb us.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Alex thinks. Her one escape route is well and truly blocked. She’s stuck here with some random cat listening to her mom’s nighttime tryst. Alex is not a prude—she’s done things like this with LJ before, but that was in private, not in the First Class library. Alex refuses to look. She does not want to be scarred for life. If she’s stuck here, the least she can do for herself is to not look. Alex wishes she has her music, but she didn’t bring her iPod.
“We haven’t had privacy like this for so long,” Audrey says.
“I know.” There’s a sound of something unzipping—Jesus, Mom, Alex thinks. “I was always at the helm, or doing maintenance, or something…Ben has the helm, Alex is off doing her own thing…I can just be here.”
“Does Alex know about us?” Audrey says with a half-laugh. “We’re not exactly being subtle.”
“She knows we’re in a relationship, but not more than that. I’d tell her if she ever expressed interest, but I don’t think she minds.” Alex wonders how surprised Melanie would be to know that this is how she found out. She’d probably be guilty, which is the foremost reason Alex’ll never tell her mom what she saw.
Listen, I know I’m with Audrey now, but you’re my first priority, okay? You’re my daughter, and I’ll always be here for you. I’m not replacing you…if you need me, ask. I’m your mom first, always, and I will never forget that again.
Alex is glad that her mom has found someone to be happy with, but could it not be right in the same room? Alas, she is trapped here, with Melanie and Audrey who’re acting like high schoolers under the bleachers. Alex knows this from watching 80s movies with Wilford in his indulgent moments. Young love, he’d say in an unreadable voice, taking a swig from his whisky of the hour.
“Anyway, enough about that,” Melanie says, and then the sounds of passionate kissing resume. Alex squashes down the urge to laugh. What a pickle she’s in. She has no escape; she might as well stay for the show. Alex gathers up the cat: he’s warm and fluffy. How much she’d like to take him back to the bunk room. Bennett and Javi would probably find it annoying, but she could look after him herself.
The cat is super furry; stray hairs stick to everything. Alex feels a sneeze coming on. If either her mom or Audrey hears it, the jig is up. Alex has no intention of giving away her position. She buries her face in her sleeve and lets it out, as quietly as possible.
“Audrey, stop, stop,” Melanie gasps, and Alex can hear the sound of one of them climbing off the other. “I think someone’s here.”
“It’s nighttime,” Audrey says. “There’s no way anyone’s here.”
Melanie breathes out, then says, “You’re right. Must have been hearing things. Shall we continue?”
“Yes ma’am,” Audrey giggles, then they’re right back at it. Alex is about ready to have a fit. It’s unintentionally comedic listening to this: the sounds, their voices. In her opinion, they were way too quick to dismiss that they might not be alone. Then again, Melanie is no longer Hospitality, and Wilford is gone. Her mom’s probably ready to be unapologetically herself after seven years of hiding it.
“Audrey, I love you,” Melanie says, breathing quickly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Melanie, always,” Audrey responds. “I’m so happy I have you.” The sounds of kissing cease, and Audrey and Melanie both go still. Alex breathes a sigh of relief—now all they have to do is leave.
Except they don’t. Audrey and Melanie sit on the couch, snuggled up together, looking out the window. Alex can’t leave until they do: there’s only one exit. She wishes cellphones were still a thing; she could have texted LJ to help her. The thought of what LJ might do elicits a smile: flooding the library, or lighting a firework in the hallway. Alex will have to be okay with telling her later, next time they meet. She tries to focus on her book with little success for the next ten minutes. “Damn,” Melanie says after a long period of silence. “You’re so beautiful, Audrey, did you know that?” Alex rolls her eyes. Her mom continues, “I can’t believe…that I get to spend this time with you.”
“Who would have thought? The two of us…after Wilford…after everything…” There’s a tiny slurring edge to Audrey’s words, small enough that a normal person might not notice, but Alex does. It sounds almost as if Audrey will cry, but it’s more likely she’s just a bit drunk. Pre-gaming, Alex thinks—a term that LJ had told her, under the observation window. When neither Audrey or Melanie says anything more, Alex considers it safe to look. They’re tangled together on the couch, Melanie curled up against the taller Audrey, both of them not looking outside but at each other. The adoration they have for one another is palpable, a golden force field around them. Alex’s heart twinges: she’s never seen this expression on her mom’s face directed at anyone but her.
“I love you,” Audrey says quietly, and it’s a serious, small declaration this time.
“I love you too,” Melanie responds, and they kiss again. When they pull apart, Melanie adds, “It’s late. We should go.”
“Back to my room?” Audrey asks, and the teasing in her voice is evident even when Alex can’t see her.
“You know it,” her mom says, and then the floor creaks as they leave hand in hand, the door opening and shutting behind them.
Alex used the subtrain to get back to the engine. No way was she going to risk running into her mom in the hallways. She’d left the cat behind: no sense in taking him if he was safe where he was. The next morning she was rostered first, so she took the helm at six in the morning on the dot, replacing Javi. Melanie was not back yet, so Alex had time to get situated before her mom arrived. At eight her mom wandered in: hair slightly askew from wherever she was sleeping. Audrey’s bed, probably, Alex thinks, smirking to herself. “Hey, Mom,” she says, trying her best to keep her voice steady. Alex is glad that she’s facing away from her mom; if she had to look at Melanie she’d lose it.
“Hey, Alex,” Melanie says, completely oblivious. “What did you get up to last night?”
“I went to see LJ,” Alex says, way too quickly. Luckily her mom doesn’t pick up on it. “We just hung out in the observation room.” She’s done this plenty of times, so it’s not a complete lie. “What about you?” She’s interested to see what Melanie will say, whether she’ll tell the truth or she’ll keep it under wraps.
“I was with Audrey,” her mom says lightly, inserting a slice of bread into the toaster.
After your little display last night, how could I not know? “How was that?”
“It was good,” Melanie says, withdrawing the burnt toast and buttering it. “It was good. I didn’t realise how much I missed…having someone like that.” Alex doesn’t turn around, but she can hear the squeak of the radio chair as her mom sits down in it.
“I know you don’t approve of LJ, but—”
“Well, she’s not my first choice, but I trust you. If you can survive seven years with Wilford, I think you can hold your own with anyone.” Melanie takes a bite of her toast, then says, “I don’t think I have the right to judge anymore.”
“Mom, don’t say that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But still.” Melanie takes another bite. “It’s not a problem? Me and Audrey?”
“Why would it be?” Alex says, as she switches fuel lines. The sun comes in the front window, playing off of the switches on the control desk. “I don’t mind who you’re with.”
“I just…I want to be there for you, Alex. I don’t want you to think that I’m replacing you, or that I don’t care about you anymore.” Melanie’s face looks nervous, as if she’s worried her message will be rejected. “Just because I’m with Audrey…doesn’t mean anything will change. I promise.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I never doubted that.” In the reflection from the front window, her mom visibly relaxes. Alex found it discomfiting for a long time; that she had that effect on her mom. Why does she care so much? she would wonder to herself. Now she knows it’s just because her mom loves her, and because she’s trying to make it work. Melanie’s affection no longer feels uncomfortable like it used to.
Alex would be happy to never see her mom kissing like that again, though.