After Nothing (18 page)

We followed her. I asked Kane to help me, and he took the day off school, borrowing that kitted-out green car again.

We sat in the car up the street and waited for her to leave home.

My mother drove for an hour and fifteen minutes. Kane never even came close to losing her, although he had to go through some amber lights that he really should have stopped at.

I hadn’t expected her to drive so far – nor did I expect her to pull into a private road. We waited for a bit at the end of it, before Kane said ‘Fuck this’ and drove up it.

The road ended in a large car park beside a long single-storey building which appeared to have wings coming off it. From where Kane stopped the car we could see into a low fenced garden. There were people sitting on benches, and there were others being helped to walk. Those doing the helping were wearing blue uniforms.

‘What is this place?’ said Kane.

‘A rest home?’

‘Baby, that bitch looks younger than us.’

He was pointing at a girl who had just been pushed out of the building in a wheelchair. Her body was wrapped up in blankets, and her head was tilted back against a headrest. She had her eyes closed. From where we were parked it looked like she was revelling in the feel of the cold air on her face.

‘Her head’s tied back,’ said Kane.

My eyes had just caught a glimpse of the black band around her forehead, which was partially hidden by her fringe.

‘There’s a sign over by the entrance,’ said Kane. ‘You want me to go take a look?’

‘I will,’ I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

I read the sign, and then I walked the rest of the way up the path to the building entrance. I had to press a bell and wait to be buzzed in.

The lie created itself, slipping easily from my mouth. ‘My mom just came in. She left her phone in the car. I know she’ll want it.’

‘Well, aren’t you just like your momma?’ said the receptionist, smiling a bright wide smile at me. ‘You know where to go, honey?’

‘I’ll find her.’

In a day room full of chairs, my mother sat with her back to the door. I didn’t go into the room. I stood in the entrance and looked over her shoulder.

In front of her was a man who sat with his head leaning to one side. He wore thick glasses, and my mother, a handkerchief in her hand, kept wiping at the drool that formed on his lips and threatened to fall on a sweater already ringed with saliva.

He was white.  And even though he was old I could see Lisa in him. He had wide set eyes and she’d had wide set eyes.

I thought of her skin. It was light because she was half white.

This old man was Lisa’s biological father.

There were other people in the room, and the soft sounds of groans and slurred words, but Mom never looked at anyone but
him
. Even from behind, her body language spoke of how much she cared for him. She sat leaning toward him, holding his hand and wiping away that drool. At one stage, she took a fresh handkerchief from her bag. She then reached up and caressed his cheek, before carefully removing his glasses and cleaning them.

I used to do that for Dad, when he’d still worn his reading glasses. Mom never once did it for him. But she was doing it for this stranger.

I’d seen enough. I turned, only realizing as I glimpsed a movement from a nearby chair that one of the continuous sounds within the room had been directed at me. A woman to my left had been trying to get my attention by shifting her one good arm up and down. The other lay twisted and still in her lap.

I left. Walked back down the long carpeted halls that had brought me to my mother. And to Lisa’s father.

The receptionist was different to the one who’d let me in. She buzzed me out as soon as I’d signed out of the visitor’s book. I’d used a fake name when signing in, and only just stopped myself in time from using my own signature.

I paused long enough to look at my mother’s name. Her surname was my father’s surname. And yet she was here, caring for the man she’d been with
before
my dad.

For the hour and fifteen minutes it took to get back to Kane’s I revisited my second vine-covered idea. I planned in my head exactly what I was going to do.

It was so easy. It was like it was meant to be done – and part of me wondered whether Lisa had made it so. Whether she wanted this too.

I went straight from work to the house. Mom’s car was gone. It wasn’t her grocery shopping day, so I was sure she was with
him
. All the neighbors worked, and there wasn’t even anyone out in the street.

She’d changed the locks – that was the only hiccup. I’d already thought it might be a possibility. I also knew where there were a couple of loose bricks in the back courtyard.

I jabbed a brick at the glass pane in the back door. It cracked. With the second jab it made a small hole. With the next, the whole pane shattered and crashed noisily from its frame. There was glass everywhere. It wasn’t the result I’d been going for – jagged bits still stuck up out of the bottom of the frame. I managed to hit a couple of them into the laundry room, and then carefully reached through and unlocked the door.

Dad’s room and my room were empty: just bare walls and carpet.

Lisa’s room was the same: clean but cluttered.

All her things. All her stories.

I opened her windows. Pushed them as wide as they would go. Spring was outside, and now it came into her room with the scent of grass cuttings from the neighbor’s mown lawn.

I had two rolls of trash bags in my rucksack. I began filling them. Not carefully, but quickly. I’d known Lisa was a hoarder, but more than once I swore at just how much stuff there was to get rid of.

I still had the closet and under the bed to do when the front doorbell rang. I wasn’t alarmed; I was relieved. I ran down the stairs and flung the door open.

‘Upstairs second bedroom on the left,’ I said, without pausing to greet the two men on the doorstep.

We dumped everything two neighborhoods over from Kane’s place. I ripped open the trash bags while the removal guys unloaded Lisa’s bed, her beside drawers, her television, her desk, her chair, her shelves and her dresser onto the sidewalk.

People were coming out of their houses before they’d even finished.

‘Why you getting rid of all this stuff?’ I turned and saw a girl who looked about six. Her tummy was protruding out from beneath the hemline of a faded pink Minnie Mouse t-shirt, and she was ferociously chewing gum.

‘You like Minnie Mouse?’ I asked.

‘I like Iron Man.’

I felt a smile tug at my lips. ‘Yeah, he’s cool.’

I got the removal guys to drop me off at the bottom of Kane’s road, and then, as agreed, paid them in jewellery. A pearl necklace, pearl earrings, diamond earrings, gold earrings with sapphires in them, gold studs, gold hoops, three different gold chains, and two gold bracelets. There was more. I had emptied Mom’s room of every piece of jewelry my Dad had ever bought her. I took it all, except her wedding ring and her engagement ring. Those I left on her nightstand.

You wait for things to get better because you think you’ve put all the hard in your past away, but then things don’t get better, they get worse, and what the hell are you supposed to do with that?

The spring months moved toward summer. Kane graduated high school, but before that was prom.

Kane wouldn’t go to prom. I wanted him to take me, but he refused. Melissa was desperate for me to go, which made me desperate to go. She was going with a senior named J.D., who she had been dating for a couple of months.

Kane knew J.D. and liked him. He was a guard on the football team. He was also the biggest guy on the team. Kind of more fat than fit though. He was the sort of guy that could make anyone laugh. Any other time Kane would have been happy to hang out with J.D., but he wasn’t giving in about prom.

The thing was, I was desperate to feel my age again. I’d spent the last three months working five days a week – from four in the morning – as well as any weekend shifts that I could get. If I could have, I would have gone back to school. Kane had been right: I had no idea what it was really like to work. But I couldn’t go back; I had to support myself and Kane.

You see, Kane didn’t have any work. The chop shop had got busted; Kane had only avoided being arrested because he’d been twice as fast as the cop chasing him. No chop shop also meant there were no parts to deal. So things were tight: really tight. If I hadn’t been working at a place where I could take home the unsold food at the end of the day, Kane and I would have had just about nothing to eat. As it was, I was putting
on
weight; instead of eating home-cooked meals, I was now living on doughy white bread and leftover cakes and pastries.

I was now making a lot of that food. My boss, Leonie, had realized after I covered for someone one day that I worked a lot faster than anyone else when it came to making sandwiches and filling buns with cream. She took me off cleaning duties and my job was now split between baking and serving. I liked the baking. I just didn't like having to eat it all the time, especially when I knew what the ingredients were.

Putting on weight meant I had fewer clothing options. The dress Melissa had bought for her mom’s fortieth now fitted me perfectly, and it made my breasts look amazing. Melissa wanted me to wear it to prom. I wanted to wear it to prom. I even had some heels that could have been designed to go with the dress. It was all for nothing, though. Kane wouldn’t go. When I threatened to go with someone else, he told me to go ahead. That shut me up.

It was the because of the teachers. He didn’t want to be around them at prom. I couldn’t blame him: not when it was my fault they thought Kane was an abusive boyfriend.

              ‘We can go to the after-party,’ said Kane, when he realized how disappointed I was.

‘The after-party will just be like any other party, except they’ll all be talking about prom.’

‘You want to do something else instead?’

‘Like what? All our friends will be at the party. All we’ll end up doing is staying home.’

‘So, let’s go to the fucking party,’ snapped Kane.

‘I’ll think about it,’ I replied.

Prom night I was standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of Kane’s wardrobe door, straining to look over my shoulder. I was wearing a dusky pink bra and a pair of fitted black trousers I’d only just managed, with considerable effort, to zip up.

Kane came into the room with a towel around his waist. Droplets of water were clinging to his shoulders and chest.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, frowning at me.

              ‘Trying to see my butt.’ I faced forward and met his eyes in the mirror. ‘I’m so fat.’

He came toward me, placed his hands on my hips and took a prolonged look at my butt.

‘I love this ass.’

‘I used to like it,’ I grumbled, ‘before it got fat.’

Kane pulled back on my hips, pretending to thrust into me from behind. He was trying to make me laugh. It didn’t work.

‘These jeans are too tight,’ I complained. ‘I can hardly breathe.’

‘So don’t wear them,’ he said, moving away.

The smoldering anger I’d been feeling at myself for my weight gain flared in a sudden rush. ‘I don’t have anything else to wear. And at least put on a nice shirt.’

‘What for?’ said Kane, glancing down at the black t-shirt he’d just put on.

‘Because we’re going out for once.’

Kane went to his dresser and took out a pair of green pants that I really liked. He pulled them on, along with a black hooded sweatshirt that made him look like a thug.

‘Please wear a shirt.’

‘Don’t tell me what to wear, baby.’

He grabbed socks and his black Air Jordans and left the room.

I sat down on the bed and half laughed, half sobbed as the waistband of my trousers bit into the softness of my stomach and hips. I had to stand up; it was too uncomfortable to stay sitting. I sought out the high heels I would have worn with Melissa’s dress if I’d gone to prom. A dress that fitted me. A dress that had gone to prom without me – Mel had lent it to the biggest ho in our school: Callem’s girlfriend, Jordeisha.

I carefully pulled on a tank top that was made of a delicate material almost the exact same dusky pink color as my bra. It was probably half a size too small. It cut under my arms just a fraction too close. It also pulled tightly across my chest and showed off more cleavage than it had when I’d bought it. It was pretty though, and for the first time in a while I felt feminine.

I looked at the time on my phone. It was close to midnight, and there was a message from Melissa saying almost everyone was at the after-party and where was I?

I checked, then rechecked my makeup in the mirror, grabbed my purse and went out to the lounge, where Kane was lying on the couch, watching wrestling on TV.

‘I’m ready.’

He looked at me over the back of the couch and his eyes narrowed.

‘You ain’t wearing that.’

‘Yes, I am. You’re wearing that?’ I replied, pointedly looking at his clothes.

‘No fucking way. Go put something else on.’

I walked over to the front door and opened it.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Nat, you’re half out of that top. And it’s see-through.’

I looked down at my chest. ‘It’s not see-through. It’s just a bit tight, that’s all.’

‘Tight? Are you fucking kidding me? It ain’t hiding a damn thing.’

‘Kane, I don’t have anything else, unlike you – you have plenty of shirts and won’t wear one. This is the only thing that looks nice and almost fits me. If I can’t wear it then I can’t go.’

‘Put on a sweater.’

‘I don’t have any that are nice enough, and fit. Everyone else will be in a dress. I’m wearing pants. That’s bad enough. Besides, you wouldn’t let me tell you what to wear.’

‘Can you fucking see my nipples?’

I looked down again, and brushed a hand over both breasts.

‘They’re fine. It’s not see-through. Let’s go.’

He got up, and pushed past me rather than let me walk out through the front door ahead of him.

I locked the front door and joined him out on the sidewalk, where he was waiting in the glow of a nearby lamppost. The late night air was still warm from what had been a stinking hot day. Now though, instead of being suffocating, the light movements of the air’s current felt like gentle reassuring caresses against my skin.

‘Do I look cheap, Kane?’

‘No, you look hot,’ he said shortly. We didn’t speak as we walked down the road toward the bus stop. He reached for my hand though, and continued to hold it as we waited for the bus to come.

I was standing out near the road with Callem.

Music was blaring from the house behind us, but I no longer wanted to be in there. Callem had seen me leave and followed me out, which was stupid of him because I was just as mad at him as I was at his stupid girlfriend.

A few minutes earlier Jordeisha had spilt a lollipop-red bottle of some malted beverage down the front of the gorgeous beaded dress Mel had lent her. And she didn’t care because she was drunk and that’s what she was like anyway. And Callem hadn’t even said anything as he calmly surveyed the ruined dress. And worst of all, Mel had pretended not to care. She’d also followed me when I’d stormed outside, but had been waylaid by an enthusiastic and affectionate J.D. As Callem eyed me warily they stood five feet from us sucking face.

‘What’s up with you?’ asked Callem.

‘I’m sorry. Are you talking to me? Because you haven’t, for a really long time.’

‘When have I seen you? You left school.’

‘Before that.’

Callem sighed, and rubbed a hand across his forehead.

‘You really gonna be a bitch about it?’

‘Why did you follow me out?’

‘Catch you without Kane. Wanted to make sure you and me were good. Friends even?’

‘You ignored me. That’s not friends.’

‘Nat, I had to keep my distance so Kane would know I ain’t into you anymore.’

‘He knows. Everyone does. Why though, when it could be any number of cool people, are you with Jordeisha?’

Callem looked taken aback, but I kept looking up at him, holding his stare. He wasn’t looking his best. I guess it was three in the morning, and he seemed sober and he looked tired. He’d pulled his bow tie off, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. There was a white flower in his buttonhole that was so wilted I couldn’t tell what sort it was. I knew from Mel that he was growing his hair out, and it was in that awkward stage where he just looked like he needed a haircut.

‘I mean it. Why would you go out with her? She lies. Like, all the time.’

‘That’s your business how?’ said Callem defensively.

‘You’re just using her.’

‘Say what?’

‘You know you are. You’re not taking her with you when you go to college, are you? Bet you’re not going to tell her to wait for you either. Does she know that? Mel said she’d drop out of school and go with you if you clicked your fingers. Have you even talked to her about it?’

‘If I had I wouldn’t be telling you.’

‘So she knows you’re dumping her ass before you leave for college?’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Callem hissed, as he glanced behind him toward the house.

‘No.’

‘Nat, someone will hear you.’

‘And what? Hear the truth? I hope they do, and I hope they tell her. Maybe then you’ll see what she’s really like when she’s not getting what she wants.’

‘What the fuck are you on about?’ said Callem, raising his voice for the first time.

‘She’s using Melissa, and you don’t even care.’

‘You’re fucking crazy.’

At that moment someone came between us. A broad-shouldered figure with a Bulls cap on his head. He put a hand on Callem’s chest and began walking him backward.

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ said Callem, pushing at the guy, and all of a sudden there were a whole lot more guys, and they weren’t wearing tuxes.

‘That ain’t nice, man,’ said the guy who’d come between Callem and me.

‘Don’t fucking touch me,’ said Callem, pushing at the guy again, but this time the guy didn’t drop his hands. Instead he grabbed Callem by his shirt and said right in his face,

‘Nigga, you bring a nice piece of ass like that to my house and talk to her like that? Hell, that ain’t right. What say I take that nice piece of ass off your hands? Go on, get the fuck out of here.’

He released Callem, but instead of distancing himself Callem tried to get back to me.

There were so many of them. They closed ranks. A line of ten guys between Callem and me.

‘You stupid-ass motherfucker,’ said the guy to Callem. ‘Now you too late to leave.’

‘Nat, come here,’ said Callem, sidestepping the guy and getting shoved backwards for his efforts. Two others then went for him, and got him to the ground. The guy who had come between us produced a knife. I caught a glimpse of the blade. It was wide with a serrated edge.

Callem was fighting the two holding him on the ground. He hadn’t seen the knife that was closing in on him. I found my voice, and it was desperate and pleading.

‘No, no, no. Stop. You can’t do that. Please stop.’

Faces turned toward me, and they laughed.

‘He’s my friend. We were just arguing. Please let him go and we’ll leave.’

‘Fuck, bitch, you ain’t leaving,’ said another of them. He was standing to the left of me, and there was both surprise and appreciation written on his face, like he’d only just noticed me properly. He wasn’t much taller than me, but he was built. He came straight for me, and I realized he was the ugliest guy I had ever seen.

He got right up in my space, and I could see that his face didn’t match up. It was uneven on one side – the side that had scars on it and a drooping eyelid. That eye was all kinds of wrong. You couldn’t see the iris because it was covered by his eyelid, but the white at the bottom of the eyeball was visible in the light from the house. Just looking at it made my stomach turn.