TWELVE

Why would she go in the bowling alley? That’s so dangerous! It’s those other girls! They’re a bad influence on my Bessie! I have to get her away from them! Correction: I have to get them away from her. That I can do. No sweat.

ELIZABETH, THE PRESENT

We sat and watched as people started arriving. Lotta knew a couple of guys who came in. They waved to her, said, ‘Hey, Lotta! Where’s Graham?’

‘He’ll be here in a minute,’ she said smiling.

They moved on. Alicia said, ‘Graham’s coming?’

Lotta shook her head. ‘No. But if I didn’t say that, those two would be over here in a flash trying to hit on all of us.’

‘Me too?’ Alicia said, her eyes huge.

Lotta looked at her. ‘Yeah, hon, you too. What? You think guys don’t look at you? They do.’

Alicia shook her head, making her long hair cover her face even more.

Lotta said, ‘Megan, get a brush and a hair fixer out of my purse,’ as she turned Alicia’s chair around and began pulling back her hair.

‘No, that’s all right . . .’ Alicia began.

‘Hush,’ Lotta said, taking the brush from Megan and using it on Alicia’s hair.

‘No, really . . .’Alicia said.

That’s when I saw it. I’d never known it was there. A scar on Alicia’s face that ran from her hairline to the corner of her eye. It was thick and red and ugly.

‘You got some make-up in that purse?’ I asked Lotta.

‘Yeah,’ she said with difficulty, the hair fixer firmly between her teeth. ‘Meg?’

Megan rummaged through Lotta’s large bag until she came up with a smaller bag full of make-up. I opened it, found some concealer and foundation and went to work on the scar. And while I was there, I just kept on going. By the time Lotta and I were through, there was a different girl sitting in the chair. A girl with a pretty face and striking eyes, a strong chin, and a turned-up nose. Who knew?

‘My God, Alicia,’ Megan said. ‘You’re hot!’

The skin under the foundation make-up turned red, but you could barely tell with all the goop I had on her.

‘You’re gorgeous!’ Lotta said.

‘You should wear your hair back all the time!’ Megan said.

‘I can’t,’ Alicia said, her voice soft.

‘Oh! You mean that scar?’ Megan said. ‘That’s nothing! Look at these freckles! Some as big as a dime!’

‘No one asks you where you got the freckles,’ Alicia said, head down and voice soft. ‘But everyone asks me where I got the scar. That’s why I wear my hair like this.’

‘Is that why you wear those jumpers and sweaters all the time? Do you have more scars?’ Lotta asked her quietly.

Alicia shook her head. ‘No. They’re just all the clothes I got,’ she said. ‘It’s an outfit that goes together. I know it’s hot out, but it goes together.’

I could feel tears springing to my eyes. I’d known Alicia for months and never knew about the scar, or about the lack of clothes. She didn’t just have a lot of those jumpers and sweaters, she just had the one ‘outfit’. And washed it over and over. I turned away to get myself back together, and said, ‘Well, you need to mix and match. Specially in the summer months,’ I said, trying to find that inner spunk my mother had. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go through my closet and see what goes with that jumper. And maybe add some shorts.’

‘I’ve got a whole bag of clothes that don’t fit me anymore,’ Lotta said, ‘and I don’t have any little sisters or cousins to hand them down to. I’m the only girl. So, we’ll pretend you’re my little sister, OK?’

Alicia smiled. Then we heard a low voice say, ‘Hey, gorgeous.’

We all looked up to see a grown man towering over us, staring straight at Alicia. Her smile faded and she grabbed my hand. Looking around us, we noticed that while we were playing makeover, the bikers had invaded the bowling alley.

‘Wanna go for a ride?’ he said. He was at least as tall as my dad, but a lot bigger. Like maybe twice as big, and he was only wearing a leather vest on his top half. He had a do-rag on his head, a drooping mustache like Hulk Hogan, faded jeans stuck into knee-high black leather boots. He had chains hanging from his waist somehow, a studded belt with a silver skull with ruby eyes for a belt buckle. He was scary as shit, excuse my French.

‘We’re waiting for our boyfriends,’ Lotta said.

‘Good, I can eat ’em for an appetizer,’ he said, then laughed like he was channeling the voice of Optimus Prime

Then a woman came up and grabbed his arm. ‘Jail bait, baby,’ she said, and hauled him away. He blew a kiss at Alicia and let the woman, wearing exactly the same thing he was – including just a leather vest covering her ample breasts – drag him away.

Alicia pulled the hair fixer out of her hair. ‘Can we leave now?’ she asked.

Unfortunately she asked too late. The door to the bowling alley opened and a man walked in. Young, not too tall, fair skinned with light brown hair. Someone I recognized immediately. I barely got out the words ‘It’s him!’ before he lifted an assault rifle and began to fire.

BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999

Clyde Hayden, the bad guy I’d almost killed, was under guard on the top floor, the locked floor, of the hospital. A cop sat in a chair outside the door and another sat inside. The Codderville Police Department was finally paying some attention to what was going on around them.

Clyde looked terrible. The guilt attack I got just looking at him could have felled a lesser woman. His head was swathed in bandages, as was his nose, his left ear, and his left eye – on which he wore a rather snazzy pirate patch, over the bandages. His jaw was indeed wired shut with a tube stuck in one side for breathing and another in the other side for liquids. An IV was plugged in one arm. His good eye looked at us as we came in, finally settling on me, where it stayed, following me as I moved around the room. It wasn’t the most benevolent of eyes.

‘Hey, Clyde, how you doing?’ Luna greeted, sitting down in the chair next to his good side and patting his arm gently. ‘I’m Detective Luna and these are Mr and Mrs Pugh, the people you tried to kill.’

A sound came out of his mouth – not words, just sounds. Luna handed him a blackboard and some chalk. ‘Here you go, fella. Make life a little easier for you. Can you read and write?’

He gave her the look he’d been giving me and scratched out ‘eat shit and die’ on the blackboard.

Luna smiled broadly at us. ‘Well, see now, I told you old Clyde wasn’t an illiterate.’ Turning back to Hayden, she said, ‘Now, Clyde, honey, I want you to write down on that blackboard the name of the person who paid you and old Larry to off this nice family.’ She patted his arm again. ‘You gonna do that for me, darlin’?’

‘Fuck you’ was scratched on the board.

‘Tsk, tsk,’ Luna said. ‘Such language. Well, I guess I’ll tell the prosecutor to go ahead with the death penalty he’s talking ’bout for you two.’

Clyde’s eye got wide and pointed at Willis and me. ‘Their alive!’ he scratched.

Luna laughed. ‘You’re right, they sure are.’ Pointing at the blackboard, she said, ‘And that should be t-h-e-y apostrophe r-e. It’s a contraction, as in “they are.” But a lot of people get those mixed up – they’re, their, and there. It’s a common mistake. Doesn’t make you stupid. Well, that doesn’t, anyway.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not talking about the death penalty for these two,’ she said, indicating Willis and me. ‘They are pretty obviously alive, like you tried to say. I’m talking about the Lester family. You remember? The mama and papa and the little boy you got on the stairs and that pretty little teenaged girl?’

Clyde shook his head so hard one of the bandages loosened. Luna reached up and stuck it, not so gently, back to Clyde’s skin. ‘There you go. Now don’t you go thrashing around like that. We want you nice and healthy for when the State sticks you with that old needle, now don’t we?’

Frantically Clyde scratched out ‘don’t know no Lesters!!!!’

‘You don’t? Well, maybe you didn’t catch their names when you were doing them. It happens.’

Luna looked at Willis and me. ‘Well, you know, whoever hired the hit on you may have hired a separate team to hit the Lesters. But the bad thing is, whoever did, Clyde and Larry are going to go down for it.’ She shrugged and held up her hands in a helpless gesture.

‘We don’t have any other names . . .’ she started.

The scratching sound of chalk on blackboard stopped Luna. She looked toward the board outstretched in Clyde’s hands. ‘Billy Dave Petrie – Birdsong Road – outside of Brenham.’

Luna smiled and took the blackboard out of Clyde’s hands. ‘Thanks, Clyde. We’ll go talk to Billy Dave. You get well now, you hear?’

As we walked out, I turned toward Clyde. ‘Sorry,’ I said and shrugged. He didn’t look pleased.

GRAHAM, THE PRESENT

I got Hollister, Tad and Leon into the car, Leon having yelled ‘shotgun’ first, sitting in the front seat with me.

‘Where we going first?’ Leon asked, rubbing his hands together like this was some sort of high adventure. He hadn’t been there last time – none of them had. I could tell them for sure this wasn’t high adventure.

‘I’m gonna call Lotta at work, see if she can get off,’ I said.

I saw Leon roll his eyes and heard groans from the back seat. ‘Shit, OK? I’ll just say hi. Damn, y’all.’

I hit the speed dial on my phone for the KFC. Lotta usually picks it up, but this time Tamara, the manager, answered.

‘Hey, Tamara,’ I said, ‘it’s Graham. Lotta there?’

‘No she not. And I’m telling you right now that girl better get her butt in here tomorrow or her ass is grass, you know what I mean?’

‘She’s sick?’ I asked.

‘So she say,’ Tamara said. ‘But I ain’t buying it. That girl don’t sound sick, you know what I mean?’

‘OK, thanks, Tamara.’

‘You tell her—’ she started but I hung up and used speed dial to Lotta’s home number, hoping like hell neither of her parents answered. They didn’t like me.

‘Hello.’ It was Manny, my friend and Lotta’s cousin who lived with her family in Black Cat Ridge so he could go to our high school. He’d gotten in a little trouble at the Codderville High School and the principal, counselors, teachers and his parents all decided it was in the boy’s best interest to go to school elsewhere.

‘Hey, Manny!’ I said. ‘Lotta home? She sick?’

‘What? No, man, she’s at work!’ Manny said.

‘Hey, don’t talk so loud. Don’t let her parents hear. She’s not at work,’ I said.

‘Shit, man,’ Manny said, voice a whisper. ‘Where is she? She with you?’

‘Would I be calling if she was with me?’

‘Hum, well, probably not. But she ain’t at work, ain’t home, and ain’t with you, where is— Holy shit!’ he almost shouted.

‘Shhhhhhhhh. What?’

‘Oh, shit, oh shit, oh man!’

‘What?’ I almost shouted into the phone.

‘My brother Eddie called a while ago saying somebody took his car, man! Somebody who knew where he kept the extra key, man! You don’t think Lotta woulda done that, do you?’

‘Shit! The low-rider?’ I said, thinking about Lotta behind the wheel of that beast. ‘Man, she only has a learner’s permit, and she’s not that good!’

‘Why would she take it?’ Manny all but wailed. ‘Man, like Eddie’s having a shit fit. He’s gonna kill her, man!’

‘If she lives through driving that damn thing!’ I said. ‘Look, Manny, I gotta go. I’m heading to Codderville and I’ll keep an eye out for her. Believe me!’

‘Man, you find her, let me know! Tia Anita’s asleep and I can use her car to meet you.’

‘Don’t you think there’s been enough car stealing for one night?’

‘Hey, I ain’t gonna steal it, man. Just borrow it, ya know?’

At that I hung up and looked at my guys. ‘Lotta’s missing,’ I said, as we crossed the bridge into Codderville.

We started driving around and I found myself going by the infamous bowling alley. And then I saw it. Big as shit. Eddie’s low-rider, flames and all. Sitting there in the front row at the bowling alley. I pulled in a couple of rows behind, as far away from all the bikes as possible, and the four of us piled out.

BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, APRIL 2009

‘Who’s Alton?’ Manny asked from the front seat, not taking his eyes off Megan.

‘Aldon,’ Graham corrected. ‘Nobody really,’ he said, also staring at his sister. ‘Used to be my best friend when I was a kid. That was before he died, though.’

‘Huh?’ Manny said, finally turning to Graham. All eyes and ears in the car were on Graham, except Megan, who looked to her lap.

‘Where the hell am I going?’ Eddie, the driver, asked.

‘Straight ahead. It’s an ’eighty-four Dodge Valiant. Blue. Vanity plates that say “Granof4,”’ Megan said.

‘That’s a dumb ride to kidnap somebody in,’ Uncle Ernesto said, honestly disgusted at the ineptitude of some people.

‘He stole our car,’ Megan said.

‘Grandma’s car!’ corrected Graham, letting himself get off track. Shaking his head, he said, ‘Tell me. Who the hell is this guy?’

‘Can you go faster?’ Megan pleaded to Eddie as his ride began to pick up speed.

‘Sure, chica. Calm down,’ Eddie said.

‘Megan! What is going on?’ Graham insisted.

So she told him – about Tommy, about the Internet, about him suddenly changing his tune and saying he was Aldon. About the accusations against their mother and Elena Luna.

‘And Liz believed this shit?’ Graham said, incensed.

‘No, of course not. I mean, not really,’ Megan said.

‘You mean she did!’ Graham accused.

‘No! She was so confused, Graham,’ Megan said, tears stinging her eyes. ‘Someone claiming to be a part of her real family—’

‘We’re her real family!’ Graham said.

Megan turned to the driver. ‘Do you see it?’ she asked.

‘No, chica. No blue Valiant. I don’t think I’ve seen one of those in a hundred years!’

‘Well, it is a blue Valiant! Trust me!’ Megan said, letting her temper show.

Manny patted her hand. ‘It’s OK, Megan,’ he said. ‘We’ll find her.’

Graham removed Manny’s hand from his sister’s. ‘Fourteen!’ he said, glaring at Manny.

‘So who’s this chick we’re looking for?’ Manny asked, keeping his hand on the back of the seat, just inches from Megan’s.

‘My sister,’ Graham said.

‘I thought she was your sister?’ Manny said, pointing at Megan.

‘She is, dumb ass! I have two.’

‘How old is the one we’re looking for?’ Manny asked.

‘Fourteen!’ Graham said, shooting Manny a look.

Manny turned around in his seat. ‘Well, somebody’s got an attitude!’ he said under his breath.

‘And you two thought you’d just come confront this guy, right?’ Graham said, glaring at his sister.

Sinking back on to Uncle Ernesto’s lap, Megan said, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘Graham, I think you’re missing the big picture here,’ Lotta said from his lap.

‘You know, I really don’t need y’all’s help here—’ he started, but Lotta interrupted.

‘You need somebody’s help, buster,’ she said, glaring down at him. ‘First off, Megan, are you OK?’

Megan shook her head. ‘No, not really. But thank you for asking,’ she said, shooting a look at her brother.

‘Did he hurt you?’ Graham demanded, moving forward so fast Lotta fell between his feet and the back of Manny’s seat.

‘Hey, pendejo!’ she yelled. ‘Pick me up!’

‘Sorry,’ Graham said, pulling her back on to his lap. To Megan he asked, ‘Did he?’

‘Not really. He threw me on the ground and I might have scraped my hands.’ She looked at them and they were indeed scraped. Manny grabbed one while Uncle Ernesto grabbed the other.

‘Oh, poor chica!’ Uncle Ernesto said. ‘We need to get these cleaned out!’

Graham hit both men’s hands away from Megan’s.

‘But mostly I’m just scared for Elizabeth,’ Megan told Lotta. ‘She’s not real strong,’ Megan said, as tears began to fall down her cheeks. ‘She’s little. A lot smaller than me. If I’d seen him, maybe . . .’

Lotta reached over and put her arms around Megan. ‘Honey, you did what you could! The guy blindsided you!’ She held Megan’s face up and with a finger wiped away her tears. ‘But we’re going to find her. And when we do, with all these macho guys we got here, the asshole’s not gonna know what hit him!’

Megan smiled for the first time in an hour.

E.J., THE PRESENT

We’d barely gotten in Luna’s car when her phone rang. She said, ‘What?’ then listened, then said, ‘Shit.’ Then she listened again. Finally she said, ‘Thanks,’ and hung up. She started the car, took her little dome light thingy from under my feet on the passenger side and put it on top of her car, and then started her siren.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked, beginning to panic.

‘There’s been an incident at the bowling alley. A bunch of underage girls . . .’ She faltered. Finally she said, ‘Shots fired.’

I just looked at her as she took the streets of Codderville at eighty miles an hour. We got to the bowling alley in record time, only to find two ambulances, a couple of squad cars, and a fire truck blocking the way. Scores of motorcycles were lying on their sides, and I could see the dark blue Chevy with the flames on the side pushed up against the building by the fire truck. And then I saw Graham’s Valiant and thought I was going to vomit. All my children, all of them, at a place where shots were fired. Before Luna could even stop the car, I had my door open and was puking out the side.

‘Hold on, Pugh. Nobody said anybody was hurt or any-thing . . .’

‘Yeah, yeah. Just stop the car.’ All I could think of was how I was going to tell Willis, who was in Houston yet again, that one or all of his children were hurt and/or dead. Just the thought made me woozy and Luna grabbed my arm.

‘Don’t panic until we get inside,’ she said.

I looked at her. ‘Then I have your permission to panic?’

‘Sure. Go for it.’

There was a uniformed cop standing by the entrance to the bowling alley. Seeing Luna he opened the door without question. Since Luna was holding my arm, the invitation seemed to include me.

We walked inside to be met with bedlam. The first thing I saw was a stretcher with a child-sized person on it. I pulled away from Luna and ran to the stretcher. The little face showing from under the sheet was covered with so much blood I didn’t recognize her. Her eyes were closed.

Then I heard a sound that almost ruptured my heart. ‘Mom!’

I whirled around to see all three of my kids standing with a uniformed officer. My girls ran to me and I pulled them to me, hugging them so hard it hurt all three of us. ‘Who—?’ I said, pointing my head in the direction of the stretcher.

Elizabeth was crying. ‘Alicia!’ she said.

‘Oh, my God!’ I said, letting go of my girls to turn back to the stretcher. The EMTs were still administering to her. ‘How bad is it?’ I asked.

‘Are you her parent?’ the female EMT asked.

Elizabeth grabbed my hand and I looked at her. She was nodding her head like crazy.

‘Yes,’ I said to the EMT.

‘It was a head wound,’ she said. ‘They bleed like crazy. I think she just passed out from the sheer fright of it all. Her vitals are good – hey, Mac, hand me some smelling salts.’

She waved the smelling salts under Alicia’s nose and she shook her head and then her eyes popped open and she said, ‘My head hurts.’

I bent down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s OK, honey,’ I said. ‘You just got hurt a little. You’re going to be fine.’

‘Mrs Pugh?’ she said, looking at me.

I looked at the EMT. ‘She’s delirious,’ I said.

‘Are Elizabeth and the others OK?’ she asked.

‘I’m right here,’ Bessie said, coming to hold Alicia’s other hand.

‘And the others?’

Elizabeth looked up at me and then over to her siblings. ‘Megan got winged in the arm . . .’ she started, at which time I let go of Alicia’s hand and turned to my other daughter, who, I noticed for the first time, had a bandage on her arm.

Before I could say a word, Megan piped up, ‘It’s fine, Mom. It barely hurts.’

‘What about Lotta?’ Alicia asked.

At which point I looked around. I didn’t see Lotta anywhere. ‘Where is Lotta?’ I asked.

Looking at Graham I could tell something was wrong. His face was pale and drawn, and his hands were fisted. When I asked where Lotta was, I saw his friends, Hollister, Tad, and Leon, come up behind him, hands on Graham’s shoulders, as if holding him back.

‘What happened?’ I asked.

The front doors of the bowling alley opened and another officer came in, his hand gently on the arm of Lotta Hernandez. Graham, my big brave boy, burst into tears and ran to her, throwing his arms around her. Lotta started to cry, too, and they clung to each other, making me tear up, and I didn’t even know what was going on.

Finally, I got the story . . .

BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS, 1999

Luna said it would be OK if Willis and I went with her to check out Billy Dave Petrie, the man Clyde Hayden said had paid him five hundred dollars to take care of my family and me. It was a fairly nice drive from Codderville to the outskirts of Brenham. It took us forty-five minutes to find the sign saying Washington County, and another twenty minutes to find Birdsong Road and the mailbox that said ‘Petrie.’

The mailbox itself should have told us something. The door to the box was hanging open from all the circulars and junk mail shoved inside. We drove up the rutted dirt drive, splashing mud on the clean city car from the puddles left by a recent rain.

Four vehicles sat in the yard of the dilapidated trailer house, only two of them serviceable. The front door of the trailer stood open and as we got out of the car and walked towards the door, the odor almost knocked me over. Willis grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

Luna said, ‘Shit,’ under her breath. Turning, she said to Willis, ‘You know how to work a two-way radio?’ He nodded his head. ‘I think we’re still in range. Get the station and have them call the Washington County sheriff’s office. I need backup on this thing.’

Willis ran to the car while I stood where I was, watching Luna pull a hanky out of her purse to cover her mouth, her gun ready in her right hand. With her foot, she opened the door wide and stepped inside.