Chap­ter 8: Paper was no stranger to the news of Chick­en Hill. When Paper—known for her live­ly chat­ter, sharp wit, and seem­ing­ly end­less sup­ply of gossip—gathered her audi­ence at Chona’s Heav­en & Earth Gro­cery Store, the atmos­phere was always filled with excite­ment and curios­i­ty. She was the unof­fi­cial news source for the area, wield­ing the pow­er of the spo­ken word in a way that few could rival. Unlike the local news­pa­pers, which often skipped over the sto­ries that tru­ly mat­tered to the peo­ple of Chick­en Hill, Paper’s updates were the pulse of the com­mu­ni­ty. The local house­keep­ers, jan­i­tors, and fac­to­ry work­ers gath­ered around her each Sat­ur­day morn­ing, eager to hear what new scan­dal or juicy tid­bit would be revealed. Despite rumors sug­gest­ing that Paper couldn’t read, it didn’t matter—her sto­ries, filled with humor, charm, and dra­ma, were enough to cap­ti­vate any­one who would lis­ten.

Her beau­ty and mag­net­ic per­son­al­i­ty made her the cen­ter of atten­tion, and her influ­ence on the Hill was unde­ni­able. Men, young and old, couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Her pres­ence could soft­en even the hard­est hearts. From the rough, knife-wield­ing thugs to the mild-man­nered dea­cons, every­one seemed to have a soft spot for Paper. She was able to weave her charm effort­less­ly, and her laughter—loud and infectious—could bring joy to any­one with­in earshot. This nat­ur­al allure made Paper not only a high­ly sought-after con­fi­dante but also a fig­ure who had the ear of almost every man in town. It was said that no man, no mat­ter how hard­ened, could resist con­fess­ing his secrets to her. Her beau­ty, intel­li­gence, and wit com­bined to make her a cen­tral fig­ure in the dai­ly life of Chick­en Hill.

One Sat­ur­day morn­ing, as the sun poured into the gro­cery store, Paper dropped the news that would cap­ture everyone’s attention—Big Soap, a large Ital­ian man known for his kind­ness, had knocked out Fat­ty Davis’s gold tooth. The crowd in the store quick­ly gath­ered around, eager to hear the details. This wasn’t just a fight; it was an event. The sto­ry unrav­eled like a care­ful­ly con­struct­ed nar­ra­tive, with Paper play­ing her part to per­fec­tion. Her vivid descrip­tion paint­ed the scene of Fatty’s taunts and Big Soap’s reluc­tance, fol­lowed by the cli­mac­tic moment when Big Soap’s mas­sive fist land­ed on Fatty’s face. Laugh­ter erupt­ed as Paper recount­ed how Fat­ty, after being knocked out, had to search the dirt for his lost tooth. It was a sto­ry filled with humor and the famil­iar dynam­ic of men test­ing each other’s lim­its, all told through Paper’s eyes.

As Paper con­tin­ued to enter­tain the crowd with her detailed rec­ol­lec­tions, she effort­less­ly shift­ed the focus of her sto­ry to a more press­ing matter—Dodo, a deaf boy whom Chona had been hid­ing from the state. The ten­sion between the local com­mu­ni­ty and the out­side world had been build­ing, and Paper knew that the arrival of a state offi­cial look­ing for Dodo could change every­thing. The mys­te­ri­ous man, who seemed out of place among the famil­iar faces of Chick­en Hill, was a fig­ure of con­cern. His pres­ence made Chona uneasy, and the pos­si­bil­i­ty of Dodo being sent to a facil­i­ty like Pennhurst, known for its inhu­mane con­di­tions, weighed heav­i­ly on her mind. But Paper, ever the source of gos­sip and infor­ma­tion, was quick to shift the con­ver­sa­tion. She didn’t want to focus on the painful real­i­ty of Dodo’s sit­u­a­tion, know­ing that for many, it was sim­ply anoth­er injus­tice to accept in a world full of them.

The community’s col­lec­tive response to Dodo’s plight reflect­ed the com­plex­i­ties of life in Chick­en Hill. While some were deeply con­cerned, oth­ers, like Paper, saw it as anoth­er inevitable con­se­quence of the sys­tem they lived under. The group knew the state was a pow­er­ful, unyield­ing force, but they also knew that the bonds they shared in their tight-knit com­mu­ni­ty were just as pow­er­ful. For Chona, the deci­sion to pro­tect Dodo was a per­son­al one, but for oth­ers, it was just anoth­er sto­ry among many—another tragedy in a world where sur­vival meant accept­ing hard­ship. Yet, the con­ver­sa­tions about Dodo, like the sto­ries shared in the gro­cery store, were part of a larg­er nar­ra­tive of resilience. Despite the dif­fi­cul­ties they faced, the peo­ple of Chick­en Hill con­tin­ued to find ways to sup­port one anoth­er, even as the sys­tem threat­ened to tear them apart.

Through all the chaos and dra­ma, it was Paper who held the com­mu­ni­ty togeth­er with her sto­ries. Her abil­i­ty to make the mun­dane feel impor­tant, and her knack for turn­ing even the small­est inci­dent into a cap­ti­vat­ing tale, made her a beloved fig­ure in Chick­en Hill. Whether it was a fight between two men, the lat­est gos­sip, or the qui­et strug­gles of those around her, Paper’s sto­ries were a thread that con­nect­ed every­one in the com­mu­ni­ty. She wasn’t just a laun­dress; she was the lifeblood of Chick­en Hill’s social scene, always there to share the news and offer her unique per­spec­tive on the world around her. Even in a place as tough as Chick­en Hill, where hard­ship was com­mon and sur­vival often meant accept­ing the worst, Paper’s pres­ence remind­ed every­one of the pow­er of laugh­ter, of con­nec­tion, and of the sim­ple joy that could still be found in life’s every­day moments.