Eyes Ever to the Sky (A Sci Fi Romance) (The Sky Trilogy) (4 page)

Her thoughts fell away as they pulled into Lizzy’s Ice Cream
parking lot and a sick unease took hold. Fer called this job a no-brainer. The owner was a sad divorcée who was never around. The assistant manager was a nineteen-year-old, pot-smoking, community college student. Piece of cake, Fer had said. Then why did Cece's stomach flip inside out as she hooked her bike to the rack?

The ice cream shop was the most rectangular, dumpy building on this crappy two-lane road. The cinder-block exterior, once lemon yellow, had faded to dirty lard. The large block letters above the ordering window read
Lizzy’s
. Very
creative. The landscaping had run amok and weeds sprouted out of the flowerbeds in brown, wispy strands. A few mismatched chairs and picnic tables sat on the cement slab, filling up with customers on a hot day. Channel 4 News said it was going to be eighty-eight degrees today, hot fo sho, as Fer would say. Cece squeezed her hands together and followed Fer through the back door.

No big deal,
Cece though, with a smirk.
It’s not like I need the money.

Michigan in July was uncomfortable, but the inside of
Lizzy’s Ice Cream felt like an Easy Bake Oven cranked to high. Cece stepped through the back door into the concrete building, careful not to tromp on Fer’s prized Osiris sneakers. She spied the open screen windows, the fans oscillating in the corners. No A.C.

As they stepped into the dim interior of the small, cramped building, a woman in her forties blocked their path. Her manicured red nails tapped on the counter as she frowned at them.

“Jennifer, you are twenty minutes late.” The woman, who had to be Lizzy, set her painted mouth in a disapproving scowl. Lizzy was not exactly the entrepreneur Cece had pictured. Her bleach-blond hair, going gray at the roots, was teased and sprayed until it flared out from her head like an eighties rock star. She was wearing a Rolling Stones tank top over acid washed jean shorts. Cece didn’t let her eyes linger long, but she was certain Lizzy’s boobs could not be real. She met the woman's disapproving gaze, shrinking a little.

“
Well,” Lizzy said, waving an arm at Fer for emphasis, “what you got to say for yourself?”

Fer shot a glance at Cece. “Lizzy, I…”

“It’s my fault,” Cece said. “I made her late.”

Lizzy’s scowl tracked from Fer to Cece. “Cecelia, is it?” Lizzy looked Cece up and down.

Cece nodded, a blush burning up her neck.

“
Cecelia, Jennifer runs her mouth all day about how great you are, but I gotta tell ya, late on the first day ain’t cuttin it, sweetheart.” Lizzy pointed a finger at Fer. “What’s Lizzy’s number one rule?”

Fer blew out her breath. “Always be loyal.”

“That’s right!” Lizzy said, smacking her hand on the counter hard enough to make Cece jump. “And being late ain’t loyal. Ask my peach of an ex-husband.”

Fer’s eyebrows drew up and a little smirk curled on her lips. “Tell Cece about your peach of an ex-husband, Liz.”

Lizzy’s eyes lit up. The smoker's lines around her lips tightened. “That smarmy bastard. He lives in Tahoe now with his new screw-buddy turned wife,
Darcy
. What kinda dumbasses name their daughter
Darcy
? A couple a inbred idiot pig farmers, that’s who.”

Cece swallowed and tried not to make any sudden movements. Fer, standing behind Lizzy, gave a wicked smile and waggled her eyebrows up and down. 

“Lizzy,” Fer said, filling a metal cup with warm water and plunking a battered ice cream scoop into it, “tell her what that bastard sent you for Christmas.”

“
Ah God,” Lizzy said, throwing her hands up in disgust. A single leopard-print bra strap dislodged and slid down her shoulder. “You know what that slimy bastard sent me for Christmas?”

Cece shook her head, taking a step back from Lizzy’s flailing arms. “I don't kno— ”

“A Goddamned Christmas card!” Lizzy shrieked, striking her hand on the counter. “And do you know what was on that Goddamned Christmas card?” She stepped closer to Cece. Her eyes were blazing.

Cece’s back bumped into the industrial freezer. She shook her head.

“Tell her.” Fer stuck her tongue to the side of her mouth as if to say
Get a load of this one.
Cece made a mental note to kill Fer when this was over.

“
A picture of the two of them at a chapel in Vegas. Had himself a friggin Elvis weddin. I coulda spit nails.” Lizzy clutched the counter and rocked back and forth. “
Darcy
. Like I give a crap if they get married or screw or whatever. I got his daddy’s ice cream shop, hell hole that it is.”

Cece twisted her hands together. A question burned in her brain, but she was afraid to ask. Still she had to. “Um, Lizzy?” She swallowed. “When do I get my first pay check?”

Lizzy’s eyes flicked to Cece. “Two weeks. No advances.”

Cece nodded politely, but felt her stomach twist. Mama needed the money now.

Lizzy’s pocket buzzed. She drug out her phone and scanned the screen for a moment. Then she turned to Cece and Fer. “Travis comes in at one. Michelle at three. You should be okay until then, right? Jennifer, be Mommy's big girl and show Cece the ropes, yeah?”

Fer nodded, already pulling out stacks of waffle cones and cans of Ready Whip. Cece pictured the patrons, their noses pressed to the glass, fingers pointing at the laminated order menu stuck inside. “You got it, Liz,” Fer said. “You know I got this on lock-down.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lizzy said, her eyes on her phone. “Just make sure the drawers are right this time.” Lizzy gave her a stern shake of a finger and then shuffled out the door. As soon as she was gone, Fer burst into laughter.

“
Can you believe that crackhead?” Fer said, thumbing toward the back door. “Lizzy is grade A, bat-shit
craaa-zaa
.” Fer hefted herself onto one of the counters and sat down, her belly spilling over her jeans. “Didn’t I tell you nothing to worry about?”

Cece nodded, but her stomach was still in knots. “What’s all that stuff about loyalty? Rule number one?”

Fer dug her hand into the cup of sprinkles and dropped some into her mouth. “Yeah, she’s not messing around with that one. We better not be late again. That’s probably the only thing Lizzy would can your ass for.” Fer held out her palm. “Sprinkles?”

Cece shook her head. She was already worrying about being late. Mama was so unpredictable.
             

It was going to be a long summer.

CHAPTER
FIVE — THE BOY

Tuesday 11:18 a.m.

The boy pumped his legs back and forth, back and forth on the swing set. Each time he plummeted to the earth, he kicked out at the hard-packed dirt.

“
Stupid witch,” he muttered, casting his eyes to the sliding glass door. He could see the outline of his mother sitting on her big fat butt, watching
All My Children
. Apparently a month of being home with her only son had sent his mother over the edge. She'd pushed him out of the house, saying he couldn't come in until dinner time. Then she'd locked the door with that stupid grin on her face.                                          

“
Probably eating the candy Grandma gave me, too,” he said, kicking at the ground. He yanked back on the metal chain as his body surged up into the air. He'd flip this swing set over and give himself a concussion. That'd show her.

He jumped off the swing, arching through the air and landing with a muffled thump. His ankles smarted from the impact, but he was too angry to care. The boy looked to the evergreens, thick and silent, that separated his backyard from the woods. His mother had told him to stay out of the woods.
There's homos and pedophiles back there,
she'd said, her eyes on her magazine and not on him. No, never on him unless he was in trouble.
Stay outta the woods or I'll give you a spankin.

Well, today he didn't care about a spanking. And if he got snatched up, so what? It'd be better than living with that witch with a capital B.

The boy tromped to the tree line and stepped inside, his sneaker slipping between fern fronds, disappearing from view. He shot a glance back to the sliding glass door, waiting, breathless. No head appeared to shout at him. Disappointment flooded him, but only strengthened his resolve. He locked his eyes on the shadows, gulped and stepped further into the trees.

The air under the tree canopy was cool and smelled like the pine candle his mother sometimes burned when company came over. He walked slowly, listening to the crinkle of leaves and twigs beneath his shoes (listening for his mother, too). The birds chattered above, a nice peaceful sound. Above, the leaves rustled in the wind, revealing patches of blue sky. A blue jay landed on a branch and tilted his head as if to say
what're you doing here?
The boy smiled. The woods were awesome and his mother had no idea what she was talking about. Once again.

A mosquito buzzed past one ear and he swatted at it wildly. Looking up from his thoughts, he realized the woods had gone eerily quiet. No birds called, as if all of them were holding their breath. Gooseflesh prickled up his arms though it was eighty degrees. His eyes darted from tree trunk to shrub to shadow as his heart picked up the beat. He drew his arms around his body.

It's fine
, he told himself as he whirled around, his eyes boring into each shadow.
It's just from that scary movie I watched last night.
He should have turned off the TV as soon as the zombies began tearing out guts, but he'd kept watching, unable to look away.

Being afraid was fun. Sometimes.

He tried to smile and walk on, but a twig cracked to his left and he let loose a muffled scream, skidding backward into a tree. His heart hammering, he looked out into the forest, suddenly dark and unforgiving. Each shadow seemed to lengthen, each branch extend. A crawling fear crept up his skin. He didn't care if it was his imagination. He turned and speed-walked toward home.

It's fine,
he thought.
Fine, fine, fine.
Another branch cracked behind him. He jumped. Was that…panting? An animal panting as it came after him? He started to run.

Branches tore at his clothes like grasping fingers. Logs reared up to trip him. Twice he fell, spilling into the dirt, the skin on his palms and knees shredding. He could barely breathe. Behind him, he was sure he could hear its rasping breath.

Something big.

He'd die. He'd die, die, die and his mother wouldn't even know where he'd gone. They'd find his body under a log, eyes wide with terror. The thought twisted his insides. A warm trickle dripped down his leg. Oh God, he'd peed his pants. His mom would kil—

Something crashed through the branches behind him. He hurdled a log, his lungs aching, his legs burning. The panting drew closer. It was…gaining.

Zombies don't run this fast!
he thought and pumped his arms, dodging pine branches as he tore toward home. He pictured his guts splayed over the fern fronds. Jesus, when would the line of trees open up? Where was his yard? His head swam with panic.

His sneaker squished through something wet and gooey and he slid backwards. The boy fell on his bottom, pain shooting up his spine. He looked down.  

His sneaker was red, dripping. He'd slipped in blood. Lots and lots of blood.

“
Mom!” he screamed, unable to help himself. He pushed his palms into the dirt and felt blood ooze up between his fingers. His hand sunk into something furry. He didn't want to look. He had to.

The head of a cat stared up at him from the forest floor. Its sunken eyes, gray and lifeless, gazed out of its skull. The ears and whiskers were matted with red clumpy smears. The body lay in pieces amongst the ferns like a torn-up stuffed animal. But stuffing wasn't what was splattered on the fern fronds. He'd learned in science that those gooey coils were intestines. He gagged. His eyes locked on the tabby's tail, lying alone like the end of a coon skin cap.
Smokey,
he thought as he dragged his eyes away, the bile rising. The neighbor's cat torn to pieces at his feet.

He stumbled up and puked the contents of his stomach onto his shoes. Mom would be furious, but he didn’t care as he tore through the trees toward the wall of light several feet ahead. He
ran for his life.

CHA
PTER SIX — CECE

Tuesday 1:06 p.m.

One hour into the “piece of cake” job, Cece was ready to eat her words with a double scoop of Chocolate Mocha.

The line at Lizzy’s snaked six feet back from the order window. The picnic tables were packed with laughing teenagers and moms with three or four kids in tow. Cece spotted her Algebra teacher in the crowd, his kids elbowing each other to get a better look at the menu. Everyone in Auburn Township seemed to be enjoying the hot weather by getting a frozen treat. Cece wiped sweat from her brow and tried not to hate them.