Criminal (7 page)

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Authors: Terra Elan McVoy

BOOK: Criminal
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I tried to step in, around her, but she brought the door closer to her shoulder.

“I think you'd do best at your mother's awhile.”

“What?”

“You heard what I said.”

It was like she was going to shut the door on me. I put my hand out to stop it. She looked at it, then me, furious.

“Bird, what's happening?”

“‘What's happening?'” She said it nasty. “‘What's
happening
?' All I know ‘what's happening' is the police are coming to my house, searching my goddamn car, asking me questions about fools I can't stand the sight of. Questioning my
grandmomma
. I know ‘what's happening' is you lying to the police and you lying to me, and I don't want it in my house. You go on and stay with your momma. You ain't staying here.”

“You know I can't do that.” I started to cry a little.

“You do what you have to, but I'm telling you, you ain't doing it here no more.”

Jamelee was pulling at Bird's necklaces, and Bird swatted her fat little arm.

“Bird, don't—” I meant the baby then, more than me.

She started to shut the door again.

“At least let me get some of my things.” My voice was ugly, pleading. Guilty. I hated the sound of it. “I need my purse.”

She stared at me a long cold minute, still blocking the doorway with most of the door and the rest of herself. Finally she walked away, leaving only a dark space where she had been. But at least the door was open.

I walked through the house, to my room, almost like I was blind. The whole morning was unreal. First the police, the search, and now Bird telling me I had to leave. It couldn't be happening. Like none of it had happened—not Saturday, not this, not anything. In my room, I found my old duffel and tried to put some things into it. I couldn't see much because I'd started to cry. It wasn't just going to my momma's that was making me scared. It was Bird, telling me I had to.

And then Bird was in the doorway. Watching me as I stood there, shoulders shaking, the bag stupid in my hand. I knew I had to tell her then so that she would understand—understand that even if they searched her car, she wouldn't be in trouble. I had to reassure her, right now, by telling her the whole thing. I just wasn't sure I knew how to do it in a way that would still protect Dee.

“Bird, let me expla—”

Her fist against the doorframe made me jump.

“There ain't nothing I want to hear from you, you
understand? Ain't nothing you say but a bunch of
lies
. You get out of my house right now and you don't come back. Not until you talking truth, if you even know what that is.”

“Bird, I didn't—”

“Get
out
of my house! Get out, I'm telling you! Just get out!”

It was like she was going to push me herself if I didn't move. So crying, snuffling, gasping, shuffling, I went past her, down the hall. The TV was on in the front room. A cop show. It wasn't funny to me in the slightest that on it, someone was getting busted.

I WOKE UP IN MY BED—MY OLD BED, AT CHERRY'S. THE
light was on. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep or what time it was, but it was dark outside. I didn't remember much besides walking over there from Bird's, drinking all three beers I found in the fridge, curling up on the bed, and crying, crying, crying.

“What are you doing here?” Cherry said to me from the doorway. She was wearing the black pants and white button-down that meant she'd been at work. Wherever that was this time. Her hair was up, and her lipstick had crusted in a dark line around the edges of her lips. She needed me to retouch her roots.

“I'm staying here for a while.”

She looked at me, eyes loose—everything in her loose. Loose
but not so much so that she wouldn't fly into a tightened rage at any moment. My body clenched up. She looked at her nails a minute.

“You'll need to pay rent, then.”

I heard how small my voice was when I said, automatic, “But the house is paid for.”

She snorted. “Yeah, but my patience with you isn't.” Then she disappeared down the dark hall. I could hear her hand sliding down the wall, guiding her a little.

She hadn't turned off the light.

IN THE MORNING, I MADE SURE TO GET UP EARLY. I GOT
dressed, quietly, but I should've known it didn't matter how much noise I made. Cherry was asleep on the couch, the DVD still rotating its constant dramatic menu. I took her car keys from her purse and pulled the door shut, silent as I could. I wouldn't be gone long. She wouldn't notice. And it would take a lot, most likely, to wake her.

I didn't know what I was going to say to Dee, really. Didn't know what I could realistically ask of him, right now. Only knew that I had to see him. And, no matter what he said, I knew—from the other night, and always—that he needed me, too. Only a week had passed, but it seemed like years since last Saturday. Years since he picked me up from work that Friday, me flushed
faced and excited, picturing a whole romantic weekend of just us. Each day since, almost a lifetime of things had happened. And he was wrong that being apart was the best thing for us right now. If he was too stubborn to know it, I was going to help him remember.

It wasn't a long drive to his gym, but I sped with the rest of traffic anyway. The place was huge, and glossy, the parking lot full of cars. His big black truck towered over them. Hurrying inside, I hoped he was mostly done with his workout. Otherwise he'd be mad I interrupted.

The California-looking guy behind the reception counter gave me a smile but was still curious since it was pretty clear I was no gym regular. I told him I was looking for my boyfriend.

“What's his name?” The guy had a name tag—Steve. “I can page him.”

“Oh no. If it's okay, I'll just walk through.”

He nodded and smiled again, then went back to his computer. He wasn't interested in me at all, or who I was looking for.

I found Dee upstairs, sitting on a weight bench, talking to a monstrous guy made up of muscley ridges. Dee had a towel around his neck, tattooed hands clenching either end. He was glistening with sweat, and his ribbed tank top clung to his chest. A smile went over me just seeing him. I wanted to be invisible
then so I could watch him like this—easy and relaxed, chatting with a friend.

But he must've seen me from the corner of his eye, because he turned and stood up before I even got near.

“What are you doing here?”

Close up, I could smell him—his man smell. Sweat, and more. Strength. I started to cry with relief.

“I just had to talk to you and I didn't know what else.”

“You've got to cut this out.” He was annoyed at first, mean like he gets. But then, softer, “I need you to be strong.”

He took me by the elbow and guided me down the wide stairs, the chrome railings gleaming past us. All I felt was his hand, tight and safe around my elbow. I wanted to sink into the feeling. I didn't care where he was pushing me.

Outside, the heat from the asphalt curled up around our legs. I had to squint to look at him, but my vision was blurred from tears anyway.

“Dee, they came to Bird's house. They searched her—”

“Look, I'm trying to act as normal as I can here, but you're starting to mess all that up. What did I tell you? Just keep your mouth shut and quit freaking out.”

“But, Dee, they're going to question her grandma.”

“And she's gonna say Bird was with her, and, hell, they'll go to the outlets and see her on their fucking tapes if they need to,
and she'll be fine. Why're you worrying about her anyway? You think the cops didn't come to my house too? You think they're not watching me, even when I'm at work?”

“Are you okay?”

He laughed. “They can't do shit to me, baby. They ain't got nothing. I'm telling you, we just got to ride this out. They can fuss all they want. We sit tight, act cool, it'll fizzle out.”

“I don't know if I can without you.”

I put my arms around his waist and pressed myself as close to him as I could. My head against the hard muscle of his chest. His heart, loud and strong. But he curled himself out of my arms.

“Listen, you can't be coming around like this. To my gym. To my house. We need to take a break. It's better if we don't see each other for a while. And I mean, at all.”

“But why? If everything is okay like you say—”

“You don't hear me talking to you?”

I put my hand on his forearm, trying to be calm in spite of how mad he was. “I hear you, Dee, I just don't understand.”

He cursed and spit, shook his head, staring at his feet.

I tried again: “Bird made me go to my momma's.”

A scowl crawled over his face. “What do you expect me to do about that?”

“I don't know, Dee. I just—I really miss you. I don't think I can—”

“You can and you will.” His voice was sharp. Then he sighed, and his hand was back on my arm, rubbing up and down, like I might be cold. “Why did you think I wanted you with me, baby, huh? Because I knew you could do what I needed you to. Whatever I asked.”

My eyes went to the place on his chest where his tattoo was. Though it was covered by his tank, I could still see it in my mind. I still needed to know—over and over—that the
N
stood for
Nikki
, and nothing else.

“Are you seeing her, Dee? Is that why?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

His jaw muscles tightened. “How the fuck do you think I could be seeing her right now, Nikki, huh? How do you think I'd be managing that? Hmmm? Genius? I'm not seeing nobody. Including you right now, you understand me? Now get out of here. Don't call me, don't send me any of your whiny texts. Just sit tight, keep quiet, do what you have to do to calm that friend of yours down, and don't say anything else to the cops. I'll tell you if there's anything else to say, and I'll call you when it's cool.”

“But, Dee, I can't—”

“You can, baby.” He put his arms around me, held me close. He murmured in my ear, breath swirling on my neck, fizzing everything inside me. “You can because we have to. Okay?”

I clung to his back. He let go and stepped away.

“I gotta get in the shower, all right? Go get cleaned up yourself. Take yourself to the movies or something. Forget about Bird. She'll calm down too. There's a lot of fuss right now, but I promise, those pigs can't touch me. Us.”

He was walking backward while he talked. I wanted him to tell me he loved me. He hadn't said it in a while, but I knew he wouldn't now. Not from this distance. He liked to say it to me close so that only I could hear.

THAT AFTERNOON, I SLEEPWALKED THROUGH MY SHIFT AT
the salon. When I got home, Cherry told me to clean up because she was having friends over. “A welcome home party,” she said, sarcastic. I watched as she put out a sorry plate of cheese and grapes and heated up salsa with Velveeta in it. She dumped some tortilla chips into one of Grandma's crystal bowls. I went into the bathroom and stood under the shower for as long as I could.

When I was dressed, three people were already there. Men. They sat around the kitchen table with Cherry, drinking and smoking and talking. I moved around them to get myself a beer and then tried to leave, but they had other ideas.

“Aw, don't go, honey,” one of them said. He had long gray
hair and was wearing a puffy down vest and no shirt. “Sit down, tell us about yourself.”

“She does hair,” Cherry told them, voice dry and flat.

“You think you could do something about this mess?” the skinny, darker man said. I'd seen him before. I thought his name was Leroy. He was rubbing and rubbing the long-haired guy's head, pressing it down all the way to the table. “Fuckin' man's got things
living
in there. You ain't an exterminator too, are you?”

Everyone laughed while Leroy and the guy in the vest fake wrestled a minute. I saw the third guy, much younger than all of them, watching me as I dunked a chip into the microwaved salsa-cheese mess just so I wouldn't have to answer.

Bo came in with Mary and Cecille, and the house got more lively. Cherry made me offer everybody drinks, like this was some kind of proper party. She cackled at nothing while I moved around, making me tell dumb stories she should be telling herself, like about the time I swallowed one of my own loose teeth when I was little. I hated talking, hated her asking me things she knew were embarrassing, hated all of them watching me. But after not very long, she lifted her eyebrows to Bo and stopped paying attention to me. They paraded back into her bedroom to snort. Her and Bo, at first, and then pairs of them every fifteen minutes, sometimes in larger groups. While Cherry was back
there, two other women showed up, one of them talking on her phone nonstop, her face scabby though she'd tried to cover it with makeup. I let them in but made them get their own drinks. I took two beers and went to my room.

Not that there was much to do, except get away from all of them. There wasn't any TV, and we'd never had a computer. I didn't have many books, and I hadn't thought to bring any old magazines from the salon today either. I found a pack of cards in the bedside table and sat on my bed, sipping beer and playing Solitaire.

After about an hour there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, Cherry was standing there, giggling.

She crooked her finger at me, beckoning. “You gotta come out here.”

“I'm not in the mood.”

She laughed, bending forward. “Oh-ho, honey. You will be.” She looked down the hall and hollered, “Emilio! Emilio, get your narrow ass over here.” To me, she said, “You've made quite an impression, little girl.”

Behind her I saw the younger guy step into the hall. He had his hands in his pockets, shy, but his eyes had the same druggy gleam my mother's did.

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