Pick a Colour

BACK HERE, I can hear a group of women trickle in. Filling the floor with giggles and voices.

I can't see their faces and don't know how many there are, but I can tell from the sound there's probably more than three. When I go out to the front room, I panic because I have trouble with this group instantly.

I can't tell any one of them apart.

They each have the same outfit on. A white cotton dress and cream-coloured flip-flops. They aren't all related. They are friends.

One says she's Liz-ee with a "y."

The other one says she's Liz-ee with an "ie."

Lily.

Lou.

Mai asks me: "Damn, how are we going to tell these girls apart?" and when I don't seem to be paying attention, she snaps, "You paying attention?" I say to her, "We don't need to tell them apart.

Just get them done, and out. They want everything done. Toes, nails, face, hair." I look at those parts quickly-toes, nails, face, hair-and quickly try to find differences among them. Shapes, textures. Gait, voice, manner.

We need an extra girl on the floor with us. It would be Nok's shift, but she hasn't come in and she hasn't been in when she's scheduled. As if hearing a voice thinking inside my head, I hear it outside of me:

"It's been a half hour since Nok's shift started and she's not even here," Mai, at the desk, tells me. "If that were me, you'd tell me not to come back."

"Again, huh," I say.

"Again," she repeats.

I join her at the desk and check the work schedule from last week, and it's true she wasn't here then. I knew that without having to look, but I just want to make sure there's a record of it. It's unlike Nok not to be at work this long. She's got two little ones. Haven't heard from her. Not a call. Nothing.

She doesn't live far from here. I think of dropping by her house on my way home. See if she's okay.

I try her phone. Nothing.

"You think I should be worried about her?" I ask Mai.

"I'd worry about you."