'THIS TRAM DOES not seem to know where it is going,' Pirouette said after a while of descending down a steep slope between thick bushes and scattered rubbish abandoned by residents of the area, piles of which had been burrowed into by several dogs with taletell yellow diamond tags that signified their district status or lack thereof.
'Perhaps the driver is unaware we have a Perfectine aboard and has taken a wrong turning,' Meresinth suggested from the seat opposite.
'That's it exactly. Driver you must turn back. We are headed to Mapenza if I'm not mistaken,' Pirouette sang out to the hunched figure at the front of the tram. Other passengers sniggered at this.
'Sorry to say ma'am, but you are mistaken, very mistaken,' the driver responded without making any move to halt the vehicle, lift it off its tracks to turn it round so it could climb up to where a station linking to the more affluent shopping district of the Flats could be reached. 'We's going down to Woebegone Platform next to Help Street like we always does on this line. Said so at the top there when you got on.'
Pirouette looked suitably outraged and glared at Meresinth. She remembered the girl had stood very still in front of some signboard while they waited for a vehicle.
'Look upon it as an adventure,' the Arbornica girl said casually.
'An education,' Anthera added.
'A joy,' Vetta mumbled but no one heard her above the clatter of the tram as it rolled over discarded detritus, scattering empty bottles with a special scoop attachment at the front.
Eventually they reached the chosen station platform and tumbled out in search of shops to pillage, except of course that was not the intention of three of the four girls.
Pirouette looked around her disdainfully at pie shops, ironmongeries and basket weaving establishments with rustling wares hanging beneath faded awnings.
'Ah,' she said, trying to make something of her surroundings. 'An education indeed. A chance to show how not to make a living.' She stepped before the pie shop and sniffed. Her nose wrinkled. 'Here,' she said, gesturing stylishly, 'is a food outlet that caters to those without taste or another of the six senses.'
'Five,' Anthera corrected her.
'Six. You are forgetting aesthetic appraisal. Perfectines are born with it, which is why the rest of the world is so very far behind.'
'Talking of behind,' Meresinth chuckled. 'Look behind you.'
Pirouette turned to see a rather large man with hairy arms, a dab of flour on his cheeks and a severely striped apron wrapped tightly around his ample stomach like an interference pattern gone rogue.
'Problem with our pies miss?' he growled, having overheard the girl's speech of moments ago.
Unperturbed, though her hand was slowly reaching into her shoulder bag for a spray, Pirouette glanced up, for the man was taller than her by quite a bit.
'Well,' she began, but was grabbed by Anthera and the girls raced along the terrace towards a narrow street opening which led up a shadowed dusty way between stepped buildings.
They paused by a bollard and laughed, all except Vetta, who looked up at the sign on the nearest building.
'Help Street,' she said and smiled. 'We have arrived.'
'The meanings of words appears to trouble you,' the increasingly reluctant member of the group pointed out as she squinted menacingly at the same street sign. There were dents in it and a piece appeared to have been chewed off by some feral creature even though it was over six feet above the walkway. 'One cannot arrive at nowhere.'
'This is definitely the place, isn't it Vetta?' Anthera said, scanning the narrow lane right to where it appeared to end at a brick wall, also with dents in it though no teethmarks. Some barbed wire and a drowsy dog sat upon the top of the brickwork.
Vetta nodded but glanced a little apprehensively at Pirouette. The Perfectine's back was to the street for her gaze roamed wistfully out into the sunshine, past some terraces with greenery upon them and beyond to the realms of imagination where gold glittered, glass glinted and glamour reigned supreme. Namely the Mapenza High Step Circle.
'Lots of shops here,' Meresinth broke into the girl's reverie. It contained the magic word and Pirouette whipped round, a look in her eye that suggested purchasing power, and then she remembered. Help Street.
'Help,' she whimpered.
This activated Vetta's good nature and she stepped forth a changed being.
'Please,' she said. 'This way for a rewarding experience. It is such a lovely idea. Buying becomes giving and giving brings help.'
With that she wandered off in search of a particular sign about half way towards the drowsy dog upon the jagged wire. When she found it she paused, looked back and gestured with a smile.
Before Pirouette could object, the other two girls grabbed an arm and dragged her along the street to where Vetta stood.
'Where are you taking me?' she gasped, struggling feebly, for truth be told she was still under the spell of a new and anticipated potential shopping experience.
Vetta pointed up at a faded wooden sign with dents in it and for some reason a fork embedded in the first letter of the shop's name.
'Welcome to Bonsie's Giving For Good,' she said.
Pirouette suddenly felt very faint and all resistence ended.
'A charity shop?' she gasped faintly.
'It is good to give,' Vetta said. 'Generosity is one of the five wellsprings of joy.'