84 Ribbons Read Online Free Page B

dial rotated back to its starting position before she stuck her finger in the next slot. Number by number she waited as the dial clicked back to its original position.
    The phone rang and rang. No answer. She gave up and moved to the baggage counter. A tired worker hefted a large box to the counter where a shaggy-haired man signed for it and walked away. The worker turned his attention to Marta.  “Help you?”
    After she filled out her information, the attendant handed Marta two missing baggage claim tickets and disappeared through a dingy door. She  stared at the tickets, too depressed to move. There’d be no chance of changing out of her wrinkled, smelly traveling clothes now. 
    She called the greeter again. Still no answer. Next she called the ballet company. The man she spoke with said the ballet office was closed for meetings until Tuesday morning.
    She retrieved her overworked dime and placed a call to her mom.
    “Mom? I’m in Billings. The greeter hasn’t come, my bags are lost, the dance company office is closed until Tuesday, and I’m so thirsty I could drink cold coffee.”
    “Don’t fret, Marta. I’ll mail out pointe shoes and dance clothes right away. In the meantime keep calling your greeter. Maybe the person had an emergency.”
    “Okay, Mom. I love you.”
    Marta gave up on phoning the greeter and exited the depot. The Montana heat blasted her again. Her head ached from the bus trip, and her stomach growled from lack of food. Thirst became a focus, but she pushed it away. She’d wait and use the inn fountain so she’d have money for meals with enough left over to buy clothes and shoes before her first day.
    At the curb she checked the map. The inn looked to be a couple of blocks north along Twenty-seventh Street. Thank heavens downtown Billings streets lay flat as a pancake.
    Downtown appeared larger than Bremerton, but smaller than Seattle or Tacoma. Block after block of three and five story buildings hovered over small businesses. The pavement sizzled with heat. Marta took advantage of the recessed entries to look at merchandise as she cooled down. Clothing shops, jewelers, a dry cleaner, a department store, two cafes, and a drug store filled in spaces between hotels and office buildings. Across Twenty-seventh she spotted a five and dime, a bank, and a pet shop.
    She continued through town, heading toward a long, high wall of rock. At the Rimview Inn she went directly to the drinking fountain in the foyer and took in a dozen swallows of tepid water. At the check-in counter she paid for an extra night to allow time to find a place to live, then  dragged herself up a flight of stairs, briefly glad she didn’t have extra bags in tow.
    The room smelled antiseptic and looked spartan. Marta flopped on the orange bedspread and faded into a dreamless sleep. She woke to darkness. Her stomach growled and grumbled as she headed to the reception desk.
    After a few minutes a plump woman with brown hair and a warm smile appeared from the back room. “Hello. May I help you?”
    “Hi. Is there a cafe nearby where I can get something to eat?”
    The woman sized her up. “If you’re twenty-one you can go in the bar.”
    “I’m not. I’m seventeen.”
    “Well then, I’ll order you a sandwich to eat out here.” The woman called the sandwich order into the bar, then turned back to Marta. “Are you in Billings for long?”
    “I hope so. I’m joining the local ballet company.”
    “That’s exciting.” The woman’s eyebrows raised, and a wide smile brightened her face. “Do you wear those fluffy short dresses?”
    “Sometimes. Have you been to a ballet?”
    “Not yet,” the woman said. “Every year I plan to go. I like the music, so I’d probably like the dancing.”
    Marta smiled. “I hope you will come this year.”
    A thick ham sandwich with a fat dill pickle, a pile of potato chips, and a bottle of Coke arrived on the counter. Marta started to protest.
    “I know you didn’t order the