Tired, watery eyes stared back at me without recognition.
I cranked up the level of righteous indignation in my eyes.
That did the trick. The man behind the counter let the tiniest flicker of guilt slip.
‘Ah-ha!’ I said with a point. ‘You do remember me!’
He licked his thick lips with his thick tongue, putting lots of ick into both. ‘You didn’t come back. I told you you had a month.’
‘Oh no, no, my friend,’ I said, wagging my finger back and forth. ‘We both know that’s not how it went down.’
He walked back over to the seat behind his counter, and let himself down on the cushioned stool with a whompf. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, lady.’
I pulled my eyebrows high up onto my forehead. ‘Oh, but you do.’ I glided closer to counter. I had my quarry in my sights now. ‘You and I both know you gave up that bracelet. Probably got a pretty penny for it too. You, the man who told me your business was based on your integrity.’
He reached down to change the channel on the small TV tucked under the counter, but I could see the beads of sweat popping up on his brow.
I smacked my hand on the counter. He jumped ever so slightly. Tingles raced over my body. Oh, that had felt good.
‘I will have you know that bracelet almost got me killed.’ He furrowed his brow a little. It was true. I had been right in the middle of a twisted heart to heart with my father who was moving in to have me shipped off to a mental institution, or dungeon in one of his many basements, and my wits were the only thing keeping me alive. Terrifying, that. Then my sister had appeared with my bracelet, the matching one on her wrist, and she had held it up as proof of how far my life had spun out of control. Who pawns something with so much sentimental value? I did. I had to. Each bracelet had three diamonds to represent the two of us and our mother. The emotion of it all had almost been enough to break me. Almost.
‘Listen, lady. I told you,’ he said, refusing to hold eye contact. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘No, now you listen, lady,’ I said with a point. I wasn’t sure what I meant by that, but it felt right. I took a moment to rock back and forth on my heels. ‘I didn’t want to do this but …’ I walked out of the store, grabbed the long piece of cardboard I had carted here from Bart’s, and stomped back inside.
‘What’s that?’ the storekeeper asked, with a jerk of his thumb.
I whipped the sign around for him to read. He squinted his eyes, ‘Don’t pawn with this … spawn!’ He looked up at me. ‘Hey!’
‘Oh yes, my friend,’ I said with scary glee. ‘And it only gets worse. You see, I was given a totally undeserved leave of absence from my job, which means I can walk up and down the street in front of your store all day with this baby.’ I gave my poster a smart slap.
The man twisted his thick bulbous features into something resembling an angry fish. ‘I’ll call the cops!’
‘Oh please. You’ve got a guitar for sale in the window with a bullet hole in it!’ I yelled. ‘You don’t want cops in your … your … den of inequity!’
He puffed some air through his lips. ‘I’ll give you five bucks right now if you tell me what that means.’
‘It means … it means … you are a bad person!’ I strode forward and pointed my index finger on his counter. ‘And I will have justice!’
He sighed heavily and shook his head. ‘What do you want?’
Victory chills ran down my spine. ‘I need a dress.’
‘A dress?’
‘A dress that will sear a vision of me into Prince Charming’s consciousness forever … and that might be good in a fight.’
‘Do I look like your freaking fairy godmother?’ he asked, planting his meaty hands on his hips.
My eyes swept over my second-hand nemesis again. Why did he always have to wear dirty undershirts? Nobody with that much underarm hair should wear undershirts in public. ‘Certainly not, but you’ll have to do.’
‘You’re welcome to search the store, but I don’t have many dresses that aren’t made of latex.’
I scowled, and looked around. ‘Surely you have something that’s … fancy?’
‘Sure,’ he said, making a horking noise at the back of his throat. ‘There’s that.’
I twisted around to see what he was pointing at. ‘Seriously?’ He shrugged his rounded shoulders.
‘That’s it?’
‘Hey, it doesn’t get any fancier than The King.’ I eyed the rhinestone encrusted white jumpsuit once more. Queenie was a wizard with a needle and thread, but that was … wow.
I exhaled heavily. ‘Fine. I’ll take it.’
‘Good. Glad we could come to an agreem—’
‘I’ll take it, and a fifty.’
‘What!’
I smacked my hands on the counter again. ‘Oh, I know you got way more than fifty for my bracelet.’
He screwed up his face, opening and shutting his mouth a few times, but unable to get anything out.
I rattled the piece of cardboard out in front of me.
‘Twenty-five,’ he finally spat.
‘Fifty.’
‘Twenty-six.’
‘Fifty!’
‘Alright. Alright. Sheesh,’ he said, punching a button on his older-than-dinosaurs cash register. He pulled out a stack of tens then brought his thumb up to his mouth.
‘Don’t you dare lick that thumb, mister!’ I yelled, with a pretty vicious point at his mouth.
He rolled his bloodshot eyes up to mine.
‘You count the money without the spit.’
He grunted, counted out five tens, and passed them to me.
‘Thank you.’ I swiped the small fold away then walked over to the Elvis mannequin to fiddle with the clasps of my purchase. Hmm, it was a little harder than it looked to get unfastened. I put my sign on the floor and went at the jumpsuit again. When I finally found the zipper, it seemed to be stuck on something. I gave it a good yank, but nothing happened. I yanked harder and the metal base of the mannequin skidded a little. I yanked it as hard as I could, and the mannequin skidded right out of my hands and slid towards the bullet guitar, knocking it off its stand and tumbling into a well-worn drum set.
‘Just take the whole thing!’ the man shouted.
I gave him a nod and scooped headless Elvis up and underneath my arm.
All things considered, I was starting to think my luck was turning around.
***
After my victory at the second-hand store, I decided to buy a couple of sandwiches at the deli—one for me, one for Elvis—before heading home to take a nap. Despite my full belly, I found it difficult to sleep; a glittering headless mannequin looming over your bed will do that to you. So I spent some time staring out my window trying to figure out how to keep my awesome momentum going and trying not to think about Jenny, my father, and any doubts about Ryder … and thinking about all of them most of the time. It seemed like a lifetime since I had left home, and yet it had only been a couple of months. I remembered what Bart had said earlier in the day about my creating chaos so that I didn’t have to deal with everything that was going wrong. He might have been on to something, but to me it felt more like someone had upped the speed on the treadmill of my life, and it was taking everything in me just to keep up.
After the mulling, I got bored, so I decided to try some exercise. Five push-ups felt sufficient. I mean, I didn’t want to collapse and bring my face anywhere near my floor. God only knows what was on there. After that, I watched the pigeons on the ledge outside my window and made up soap opera dialogue to match their peckish interactions … ha! Peckish. But once Slade confessed to sleeping with Maria’s sister, Birdie, that got boring too.
Finally the ambient glow of the sun that managed to seep its way through the towering buildings threatening to flatten mine began to dim. It would have been peaceful if it hadn’t been for the blaring of my neighbour, Mrs Reese’s TV. That woman did like her cable. It sounded like the news … the news discussing something about St. James Industries!
I flopped out of bed and moved closer to the wall. … it has been rumoured that St. James Industries has been using this technology on Jenny St. James herself …
I crouched closer to the wall. … Some have even speculated that it was the lesser known St. James sister at the incident yesterday who …
Suddenly the channel changed. ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘Turn it back!’
‘What’s that dear?’ Mrs Reese yelled back over what sounded to be the theme song for Gilligan’s Island.
‘Please! Turn it back!’
‘You got a cat?’
‘Turn the channel back!’ I pleaded.
‘Oh! Certainly dear.’
… Showers are expected most of the day with a high of …
I sighed. ‘It’s okay. Never mind.’
‘Okay, dear.’
I got to my feet. Enough was enough. I was tired of this nonsense. My day wasn’t over yet. It was time to figure out what was going on with my sister.