Anatomy of a Girl Gang (9781551525303) (17 page)

Mercy?

I'm in here.

We went to her room. She sat on the bed and wiped at her eyes. Eyeliner was smeared like black ribbons across her temples. I went to her and held her.

It's all gone, she sobbed into my hair.

At least they left the TV, I said.

Yeah, because it's not worth anything, she said through her tears.

This is fucked up, Z said from the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.

Mercy's dresser drawers had been dumped out and her clothes were all over the room. They took all my jewellery, she sobbed. Those fucking bastards. This is all I have left!

She gestured to the gold hoop earrings and chain she wore.

Where was everyone? Why wasn't anyone home?

You and Z were out, Kayos is at school, Sly Girl's out slinging, and I was scouting cars.

Where's Thug?

She shrugged. I guess Sly Girl takes him with her.

Christ.

Z left the room. Mercy and I stared at each other, both expecting the other to say it was all a big joke. April Fool's! Ha ha! Gotcha! But neither of us was saying that. This was for real.

They unbolted the safe, Mercy said. Took the whole fuckin thing.

What?
I jumped up to go check. There were four holes in the floor where the safe had been. Jesus, fuck! I wanted to punch something. Break something. Kill something. But more than that, I wanted our five-hundred K back. I could handle the jewellery, electronics, and the key of coke being gone, but not the cash. Not our entire life savings. Not that. Anything but that. I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach as I realized that it was all gone. The Vipers had fucked us over royally. Bye-bye condo. Bye-bye ever getting out from under the Downtown Eastside.

KAYOS

After math class, I checked my cell. There was a text from Mac: 911 meeting 2nite. Uh-oh. This couldn't be good. I couldn't sit through three more classes wondering what it was about. I left school and hopped on the next train down to Waterfront Station. The cherry blossoms were out, and they drifted around my head like pink confetti as I half-ran, half-walked toward the house. It was a beautiful spring day. What the hell could the problem be? I just hoped no one was hurt. That Sly hadn't relapsed and OD'd, that Z hadn't been busted again. I hoped Thug was okay. But whatever it was, we would deal with it. We were the Black Roses. Together, we could handle anything.

MERCY

Maybe I deserve all this. Maybe I deserve much, much worse.

Now, when I shut my eyes, all I can see are his ice-blue eyes. They are burned into my brain.

I could stand at the top of the Lookout Tower and yell
I'm sorry
at the top of my lungs a hundred billion times. I could lie down on the road at the exact spot I hit him and wait for my punishment. I could stow away in a shipping container and wake up in Japan or India or Australia and start a new life. But it wouldn't change what I did. Nothing can.

MAC

Well, that sucks, sweetie, but, you know, it's all part of the game. Hank covered the mouthpiece and asked someone if they had any more appointments today. Then he told them to go home. Sorry, what were you saying?

I just feel like such an idiot, you know? I mean, I thought we had it covered with a safe and a dog, but … but that was fucking stupid. Why didn't I just open a bank account?

Well, you can't blame yourself, darlin. You just have to learn from it and move forward. You won't make the same mistake again. Sometimes you play the game, and sometimes the game plays you. That's just how it is.

We almost had enough for a condo. We were so close.

I felt a lump building in the back of my throat.

We lost
everything
, Hank. Everything. What the hell are we supposed to do now?

Well, I'll tell ya what you're not gonna do, you're not gonna mope around feeling sorry for yourself. You're gonna get right back on your feet and figure out a way to make it all back again. Look, I'll see to it that you get set up with your first couple orders, and you can start selling Tupperware again this weekend. Hank was always paranoid about drug-talk over the phone, for good reason, I guess. He had a lot to lose.

Thanks.

Hey, no sweat. Listen, you and your little book club can get creative now. There are ways to reel in big fish without
spending years collecting sardines. Know what I mean?

I think so.

Good. Well, I'll talk to my friend tonight and get you sorted out.

Thanks a million, Hank.

Hang in there, kiddo. It'll turn out alright, you'll see. Gotta go, my next appointment's here. Whew, she's a fox. Bye.

Big fish. Get creative. Hank was right, we could pull one big con and make just as much money as we did spending hours and hours cooking, chopping, and slinging crack. But what could we do that was low-risk and high-reward?

I went for a walk to clear my head, get some fresh air. A wrecking ball was demolishing a building down the way. I stopped across the street and watched it come down, brick by brick, just falling in on itself. A crowd gathered on the sidewalk with me, and we all watched as this ugly little building was put out of its misery. I lit a smoke, and a junkie beside me asked me for one and I handed it to her, passed her my lighter.

It's kinda like watching a car accident, eh?

Yeah, it is, I said.

What's that about, anyways? she asked, scratching a sore on her face.

What's what about?

How come we're so drawn to car crashes and shit like this? She gestured to all the people who had stopped to watch the demolition.

I don't know. Curiosity, I guess.

It's more than that, though, she said, exhaling smoke from the corner of her mouth. It's like watching our own lives in slow motion.

VANCOUVER

I am constantly being destroyed. I am constantly being created. I am a vision of the past, present, and future. They say I am 125 years old, but I contain 8,000 years of human history.

I am a stinking, shining, gorgeous, awful manifestation of all the joys and fears, all the fantasies and illusions of every person who has ever stepped inside me. I am a concrete forest. I am a metallically realized dream. I am the City of Glass. The City of Tears. The Broken City. I am the Liveable City. World Class. I am Raincouver, Hongcouver, and No Fun City. I am Lotusland. Shangri-La. I am Hollywood North, the intersection of aspiration and desire. I am ground zero of hope. I am your last refuge and your final destination. I am the Terminal City, where everything that ends begins.

MERCY

I know we didn't owe them anything, and I can't believe they would fuck us over like that. But what does it really matter now? Our stuff is gone, and it's never coming back.

I went to the store to steal us some junk food because that usually helps me feel better when really shitty things happen. When I got home, Sly Girl, Mac, and Z were smoking a blunt and watching a movie on TV. At least we still had the TV.

You got some more weed? I asked, reaching for the joint.

Yeah, Hank's guy dropped by, Mac said.

That's good, I guess.

Yeah.

He fronted us?

Yeah.

How much?

Just an ounce. Don't worry. It'll move fast.

Cool. Want some ice cream? I held up the two tubs of Häagen-Dazs I'd managed to slip in my bag.

Fuckin rights. Mac leapt up and ran into the kitchen to grab spoons.

Z laughed and reached for the tub of Rocky Road.

I pushed Thug off the couch and settled in beside Sly Girl, careful not to bump her broken spots.

Here. Mac plunked down on the other side of me and handed me a spoon.

Thanks.

No, thank
you
.

Sly Girl giggled.

What are you guys watching?

Trapped
.

What's going on?

Courtney Love and Kevin Bacon kidnapped this little girl for a million-dollar ransom, Mac said.

Huh.

Yeah. Mac met my eyes and hers flashed bright, and I knew we were thinking the exact same thing.

Not a bad idea, actually.

Too bad we don't know any rich people with little kids, Mac said.

Actually, we do.

KAYOS

I burst through the door expecting the worst. The girls were sitting around the living room, a nearly empty case of beer in the middle of the floor. Thug was curled up on the couch with his nose in Sly Girl's lap.

Yo, what's going on? What happened?

You're here! Mercy said.

Yeah, I left school. Now tell me what the hell's going on.

We were robbed, Mac said.

Oh shit! How bad?

They took everything.

Seriously?

Everyone nodded.

I sank onto the couch. The cash?

Yep.

The coke?

Everything.

Motherfuckers. Any idea who it was?

Mercy pointed to a red spray-painted mess on the wall. It was the Vipers symbol with a crown on top.

Mother
fuckers
.

Yep.

This is bad. This is really bad.

But it could be worse, Z said, cracking a beer. We've got each other. And we've got our health. She reached over and patted Thug's bum.

Somebody's been watching too much Oprah, Mercy said.

Z flicked a beer cap at her, stuck out her tongue.

So, what are we gonna do? How much did we have in the safe?

Almost five hundred, Mac said.

Okay, well, that's not so bad. Yo, we can make that back tonight, easy.

Thousand.

Oh.

Mac nodded, biting her lower lip.

Oh,
God
. It's gonna take another year to make all that back!

Maybe not, Mac said. We've been talking about some different strategies for our economic recovery.

The others laughed. I could tell they'd been boozing hard all afternoon. Nothing was funny about this situation. Everything we owned had just walked out the door. I wanted to cry.

Mac patted my shoulder. We've got—

No, no. Let me guess what you're gonna say. We cowboy up and get right back out there. It's all part of the game, right? I said.

Well, yeah, sort of. But we got a new plan to make our money back. Aside from the ATMs, cars, and dealing. Something big, a one-off. It's low-risk, high-reward.

Yeah? What is it?

Mac grabbed a beer, twisted off the cap, and handed it to me. Mercy's got an idea.

I took a swig and looked at Mercy, her bare feet up on the coffee table, fingers steepled over her belly, her shiny black hair loose, cascading over her shoulders. What is it? I asked.

A kidnapping, Mercy said.

Really?

Really.

You're not serious.

Serious as a fucking heart attack.

For real?

For ransom.

A kid?

Uh-huh. It'd be super easy.

But we'd need someone on the inside, Mac said. Everyone looked at me.

Whose kid? My skin felt hot and prickly. I didn't know where this was heading, but I was getting that heavy, squishy feeling in my guts.

Your sister, Mercy said.

Laura?

She nodded, her face smug.

Oh, guys, I don't know. That's …

A brilliant, foolproof idea?

Um …

Pure genius?

I don't know. I—

Okay, let me tell you something, Kayos. Mercy put her feet on the floor and leaned forward, hands on her thighs. This is our only shot at making that money back in one go. No one has to get hurt, alright? Hell, it's hardly even illegal since she's your sister and all; it'll be like we're babysitting her for the afternoon.

It's just that—

Kayos? Down for life, remember? She pulled back her shirt to show her black rose tattoo and the others did the same.

I sighed and took another gulp of beer. Alright, give me the deets. Yo, seriously, how in the hell do you think this is even gonna work?

MERCY

Yes, I'm a bad brown bitch, let it be known. No Mercy. It would be my biggest theft yet, a human being. The greatest part was, since we had Kayos on the inside, it was risk-free. Mac and I talked it out all afternoon from every angle and analyzed every little thing that could possibly go wrong. We drew up a schedule, a timeline, and a map of our locations. We had every detail laid out.