The first few nights after I left Colby’s were rough. After a sleepless night huddled behind the door of an unlocked storage closet, I decided to quit the mall and head to the Capri Motel. I’d met a couple of decent kids on my way to the ice machine the night I was there after Donna’s house. Whole families lived there. Worn out single moms with bleached nests of hair who pinned up their kids’ school drawings or put special Star Wars or Disney Princess bedspreads on the beds to make those bare cubicle rooms look a little more like home. But no matter how hard they tried, they were still stuck in a grungy hotel room, buried in a mess of diaper packages, no-name cereal boxes, empty chip packets and baskets of musty laundry.
I thought they might welcome me in if I offered to babysit, but then I’d be just another mouth to feed. They didn’t need me, a sullen fifteen-year-old, if their skinny, uncomplaining nine-year-old was perfectly capable of feeding the baby and looking after her toddler twin sisters.
I ended up moving from room to room. A night here and a night there on someone’s floor or couch – if I was lucky. I’d look for the next party, hand out a few free beers and soon I was everyone’s welcome guest. Sometimes I even scored a spare blanket to lie on. I spent the day at school, the evening at the library or the mall, then went back to the motel to sleep and shower.
Just about every night was party night. Starting around ten and going on till dawn. It was tough to get a decent sleep, but I managed a few hours once everyone was so hammered they passed out or someone called the cops. At those times I hid in the closet or bathroom because I was a runaway and I didn’t want them to take me back to my own social worker.
My mornings were precious. At six when everyone was still comatose, I took a quiet shower and slipped outside to sit on the wooden bench seat by the drained pool, a cup of coffee steaming in one hand and a book in the other. I imagined the world had stopped just to let me enjoy a silent hour of reflection before school. Unlike the other kids who came up with every excuse in the book to get out of going to class, I cherished my time there. I had a single purpose – to watch my marks climb upwards. It was my only chance of an escape from the dead-end life I was living.
Colby transferred out of all my classes. When I passed him in the hallway, I pulled my hoodie over my face. I was sure he knew about the baseball cards, but he didn’t say anything. I figured he owed me a favor and selling them had given me enough money to buy food and favors for at least a few months. Beyond that I had no plan.
I soon found out which motel rooms housed the prostitutes and junkies and avoided them in favor of the rookie party animals. Everything was working out until Birdie showed up again with Loni in tow and ruined things.
At the time I was staying with three girls who’d been caught shoplifting and were ordered by the court to attend school, but instead they spent their days painting their nails, dying their hair and calling up guys to join a party that never seemed to end.
We’d just finished the extra-large pepperoni pizza I’d bought when the door flew open and Birdie burst in followed by Loni. I barely recognized them. Birdie had transformed into a painted doll, her sleek, blonde hair expertly cut into long, choppy layers. She sashayed into the room like a model in her white crop top and matching skinny designer jeans. Loni followed close behind, a deep mahogany loop of hair hanging over one eye and the rest cut short and spiky. With her black spandex tights and pierced eyebrow she resembled a villain from a superhero movie.
I huddled deeper into my hoodie, to hide from their scrutiny.
“Get the hot wax out,” shrieked Loni. “Your sister’s got a unibrow.”
“Don’t tease her,” said Birdie, standing over me. “Ain’t her fault she got no money and no style.”
“What do you want?” I mumbled, clutching my book. I was re-reading The Great Gatsby.
Birdie tapped her foot and tried not to look me in the eye. “You never went back to Lester’s place then?”
“You guys almost killed him. What am I gonna say? Sorry, Lester. They didn’t mean to smash your face in.”
“Oh but I did mean every bit of it,” said Birdie, her hands curling into fists. “I wanted to make that dickhead suffer.”
Loni loomed up behind her. “Damn right. Some foster parent. Couldn’t keep his miserable little prick in his pants.”
“Okay, so what do you want?”
Birdie placed her hands on her hips and posed like a model, turning this way and that. “You like? All this cost more’n three hundred bucks.”
I glanced through my raggedy bangs. “Looks okay for turning tricks. Where’d you get the money?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, tapping the side of her nose.
“You working for that Earl guy?”
“Might be.”
“Earl’s our buddy,” said Loni. “He done some favors for us, so we do favors for him. Get dressed up. Go to nice parties. Act friendly. Meet some real nice guys.”
“In other words,” said Birdie with some emphasis, “we get paid to have fun. Something you’ll never understand.”
I shrugged. It sounded like the worst job in the world. “I guess. If you like that sort of thing.”
Birdie flew towards me. Feeling the heat of her anger, I tried not to look up. “You’re such a snob. Always judging me. Think you’re better and smarter than everyone else. All you do is sit in a corner and read about life. You never tried living it.”
I slammed the book down. “You came here to give me shit?”
“You’re wasting your time, Birdie,” said Loni. “Let’s get out of this toilet and go to the Martini bar.”
I glanced up. “You’re not old enough to drink.”
Birdie looked smug. “Earl got us ID. We can go to any club we want because he knows everybody. Not like you, still drinking your Burger King pop and milkshakes. Anyway, I came to make you an offer – one time only. I can pay to get you cleaned up so’s Earl might be interested in hiring you. I’ll take the money from my own pocket.”
I shook my head. “I’d rather have all my teeth pulled without freezing, than work for that pimp scum.”
“Suit yourself, I guess you got your reasons.” Her painted lips drooped at the corners. For a moment I caught a glimpse of the old Birdie, the wacky kid with skinny spider legs and a fragile heart. A thick wave of emotion flooded into my heart, but I turned away before she saw the tears welling in my eyes. “But I really mean it. You’re my sister after all.”
“You said your piece, now let’s get the hell out before some fat-assed social worker comes and takes you in,” said Loni, grabbing her shoulder.
I looked up through my hair at Birdie who still hadn’t made a move. “You don’t have to do everything she says. You got your own mind.”
Loni elbowed Birdie aside and stood in front of me, legs planted firmly apart. I thought of Ursula the sea witch from an old Disney movie. “Bitch – you lost your say in her life a long time ago. She’s someone else’s now. Tell her, baby. Tell her.”
Birdie closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Come on, sugar. Tell big sissy what you done.”
Blood rushed in my ears, like the sound the wind makes when you lean out of the window of a fast-moving car. “What did you do, Birdie? Tell me and we’ll fix it.”
“Ain’t no fixing now, baby. Now you made a promise,” said Loni in that saccharin voice.
Birdie pursed her lips together. Her eyeliner was smudged.
“Check this out,” said Loni, lifting up Birdie’s tiny shirt and exposing her bony back. Written in large flourishing loops across her skin, on either side of her nubbly spine was a name, Earl J. Rafferty.
I jolted upright. “It’s not too late, Birdie. We can get out of here. Find Dennis. He’ll take us in. I have money.”
Loni tried to hook her arm into Birdie’s but she shook it away, her eyes fixed on mine. Daring me to jump up, grab her and not let go. “It’s too late,” she said.
“Damned right, Birdie,” said Loni. “You don’t break promises with Earl.”
Birdie reached into her purse. “I gotta go.”
“I mean it, Birdie. I’ll look after you. We’ll be okay.” I scrambled to my feet and caught her wrist in my hand. Suddenly Loni was in my face. Her green eyes glowed like alien cat eyes.
“Bitch don’t get it. She ain’t going with you. And if you try and take her, I’ll send Earl’s man to mess you up so bad nobody will want you. Now c’mon, Birdie.”
Birdie stuffed a wad of bills into my hand. “I can look after myself, Anna,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”
I stuffed it back into her hand. “I don’t want your whore money. You sold yourself to a pimp.”
She shrugged. “It’s just a job. I’ll do it until I save enough money to go to Vegas. I can be a dancer there.”
I grabbed her skinny wrist so hard I could almost snap it. “Idiot – he’ll never let you go.”
Loni’s hand was on my throat so fast my arms flew upwards, releasing Birdie. “I could end it right here,” she hissed. “Just say the word, Birdie.”
Tiny white dots of light danced around in front of my eyes. Birdie shook her head. “Let her go.”
And before I could stop her, they were gone, leaving only a cloud of cheap perfume behind them.
After a productive day at school helping Robin fill in the paperwork for Carla’s teen support program, I dropped by Linda Martin’s office to find her in a flurry of activity sorting papers into piles and stashing them into a filing cabinet.
“I’m off to Cancun tomorrow. A week in the glorious sun sipping on margaritas and lying on the beach. Can’t wait to leave this behind,” she said, glancing out of the window at the overcast sky and the thin curtain of drizzle that blurred the outlines of buildings and trees. I shivered, imagining her lumpy body in a bathing suit. Would she choose one of those floral types with a little skirt at the thigh or maybe a tankini with a loose flap to disguise her pudgy midriff? I chastised myself for being so superficial and slumped into my usual chair. She fidgeted with her stapler and hole punch, shifting them from one side of her desk to the other. Easy to tell only half her mind was on work.
I leaned forward trying to catch her eye but she transferred her attention to the paper clip magnet. “I’ll get right to it, Linda. You need to get the cops onto Earl Rafferty.”
Her eyes snapped open in surprise. Dreams of golden beaches shattered for the moment. She exhaled deeply. “Anna, I told you it’s in your best interest to stay away from those downtown places. They’re bad karma for you.”
I placed both hands on her desk and leaned forward. “I don’t want to ruin your holiday, Linda, but I’m done playing games here. And by the way, I’m recording this entire exchange.”
She leaned against the back of her chair squinting at me. Her face flushed with scarlet streaks. “What exactly do you want?”
“Yesterday I dragged one of my students from a stag party. She’s underage – barely sixteen years old – but she was drunk, high, almost naked and in the process of being assaulted by men old enough to be her grandfather. She also has Earl Rafferty’s name tattooed in bold script across her back.” I sat back and took a deep breath. “And your esteemed colleague Peter Karrass and a number of other so-called respectable members of our community were willing spectators to the entire proceedings.”
I could almost hear Linda’s heart thumping. I’d presented her with something way too big for her to handle, but I wanted her to suffer. To worry about me every time she lifted a frozen margarita to her lips.
“You’re sure about this?” she said in a small voice.
I nodded. “Damn sure. And Birdie had the same tattoo fifteen years ago.”
A grin twitched at the corner of her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, Anna, but you’re doing that transference thing.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You had me going there,” she said, smirking as she busied herself with her pencil holder. “But now I realize you’re just confusing Birdie with this girl that you say you rescued. Another thing – why would you, a respectable teacher, frequent that kind of party? I believe the school board might have a few questions for you.”
I flipped her pencil container over sending pens and highlighters rolling across the desk. “You stupid bitch. You wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped you in your dumb face.”
Her fingers flexed into claws as if she was trying to restrain herself from scratching my eyes out. “What’s that saying? You can take the girl out of the street but you can’t take the street out of the girl. I believe our meeting is over, Anna. I have places I need to be.”
She stood up and began to pack her briefcase, but I wasn’t done.
“Make the most of your holiday, Linda. It’ll be your last. Because when I take Rafferty and Karrass down, I’ll take you with them. You and all the others who screwed up my life and Birdie’s. You’ll be lucky to find a job flipping burgers for minimum wage.”
She clicked her bag shut then pushed her face towards me, her cheeks puce with anger. “Get the hell out of here, Anna, and don’t come back until you’ve checked in with a psychiatrist and completed a course of treatment. I can’t deal with you anymore. You won’t accept the truth.”
“You mean your version of the truth. Just watch yourself, Linda. I’ll be back when I can finally prove you’re being paid to lie.”
“I’ll call security,” she said, picking up the phone. Her hand shook.
I stood by the door and looked back. “You’ll need security when I’m done because you’ll be looking over your shoulder to see who’s after you.”
“Out,” she screamed.
I swept down the hall as if my feet were barely touching the ground. Time to set the wheels in motion.
I’d been waiting fifteen years for this chance.