I hate that I need to find that screw-toothed prick.
He’ll know where Seemy is, even if he wasn’t with us last night. He can tell me that she’s okay. I head toward Saint Marks, and I don’t even notice that I black out until I come to and realize I’m walking in the wrong direction, the sudden sounds and lights and smells of the city making my bones vibrate like I’m a bell that has just been struck. I stop short and get cursed out by the person behind me, who had to sidestep into a puddle. His umbrella pokes me on the top of my head as he stomps by, and I jerk away and dash across the street and almost get creamed by some shitbox car that sounds like it has a death rattle.
My hands are fists in my pockets, and I concentrate on the feeling of my nails digging into my palms, picturing the eight crescent-moon indentations they’ll leave on my skin.
I think that I might scream, so I duck into the next store I come to. It’s a Ricky’s, the beauty supply store that clears its shelves for Halloween costumes every year. In the days before Halloween the place is totally mobbed, with a line snaking out the door and down the block. Today, though, it’s almost empty. Just a few bargain hunters rifling through the mess that’s left after last night.
“I told you!” the woman behind the counter is yelling to someone when I walk in. The store looks like a herd of wildebeests have torn through it. A few rubber masks hang skewered through the eyes on metal wall pegs, wigs lie in open bins tangled with oversize clown glasses and gigantic plastic bras—boobs included. “I told you it wouldn’t fit!”
Oh, wait. She’s yelling at me. I walk up to the counter. “Excuse me?”
“You’re size XL.”
“Dude!” I object loudly, before lowering my voice so other bargain hunters can’t hear me. “You don’t have to, like, announce my dress size to the world.”
“No size extra large in the Slutty Prom Queen costume!”
“Wha . . . ?” I look down at my dress and then at the rack where she is pointing. There are just a few things left on the rack. Slutty Devil. Slutty Nurse. And, with a tag featuring a girl much skinnier than me, Slutty Prom Queen.
“And you can’t return the dress now anyway. You’re wearing it.”
I pull one of the dresses from the rack and hold it up. “I bought this here?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night! No returns!”
I hold up my hands. “I get it, I’m not going to return the dress that I’m wearing. Can I ask you a question, though?”
She narrows her eyes at me.
“Did I leave my stuff here?”
“No,” she says quickly.
“Are you sure? Don’t you have a lost-and-found or something?”
She bends over a little, opens up a drawer, and then slams it shut. “Nothing in the lost-and-found.”
“Thanks. Was anybody with me? When I came in here on Halloween?”
“Little girl. Bought the same dress.” The woman smirks. “Size small.”
“Did we try them on? The dresses?”
The woman shrugs.
“Can I check the dressing room? For my stuff?”
I don’t wait for an answer; I just duck into the curtained dressing room. The woman calls to me, “Those men you were with weren’t good men!”
The dressing room is empty.
My heart thunk-thunk-thunks in my chest as I duck down to look under the bench. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“You didn’t want to be with them.”
I don’t respond. I’ve found something on the wall. I lay my cheek against it, so my eyes are looking straight across its surface. There’s something written there. Something written and wiped away.
HELP US. Then there’s a couple letters I can’t make out, and then there’s a number. My cell phone number. I trace the letters with my fingers. HELP US.
I rest my head against the wall, tears dripping out of my closed eyes.
“Remember,” I whisper. I wait for the memories to come. “Remember,” I say again. I tap my head against the wall, hoping to jog something loose. Nothing. “Remember,” I say louder, and this time my head makes a thunking noise when it hits the wall. “You have to remember!” Thunk. “Remember!” Thunk. “Remember!” Thunk.
“You okay in there?” the woman calls.
My head hurts. This is stupid.
“Okay,” I mumble, “okay.”
The woman behind the counter calls out to me as I leave, “How is your friend?” but I don’t stop. I just push open the doors and walk away as fast as I can.
I have to find Toad.