In the forest, miles from the dark brothel, huddled around a sickly campfire with my friend. We ran as far as we could. Now it's just silence and chirping woods. The twigs crackle and spit up sparks. The little fire makes us into floating ghostly visages in its flickering light. We whiff in the smoky aroma, its illusion of warmth.
"Can't believe you got that going in this wind." She shivers and rubs her hands over bare legs pulled to her chest, her big shoes making her look smaller. "Can we toss some leaves on now?" I notice neat lines of scars at the top of her thigh.
"Too much smoke. Even in the dark, we shouldn't risk it," I say, surprisingly calmly.
She groans and pulls her limbs in tighter like a pillbug.
I ache all over. Every scrape and thorn cut burns in the brisk air. I rub the dried red scratches with spit and wipe them with the bottom of my tattered sweater. The garment falls over my hands and hangs almost to my knees.
"You get those pants from a hospital?" She chuckles, coughs dryly, returns to shaking.
I look down. Starchy thin blue pants with tears and mud stains. The wind blows right through them. Dingy white sneakers that look like sad clown shoes. An old sweater on me.
"I don't know where I got them."
"At least you have pants," she comments. "Coulda let me pack a real bag," she jokes, putting her little purse in her lap. Then her eyes become lost in remembering the past hours.
"It's not that cold out. It's just not that warm, either."
She rocks back and forth. "This fire's the only thing keeping me sane."
I have a thought and clear my throat. "Hey, call me crazy, but what year is it?"
"3000.". She tries to laugh but her throat is hoarse and dry. She clears it. "No, seriously? It's '92. 1992. What, you get hit on the head or something?"
"Maybe." I rub the sore back of my hair. I don't remember hurting it there, but the throbbing pain ebbs and flows with a will of its own, reverberating end to front like a mind-numbing echo. "And the town we're in?"
"Piercing."
Piercing. The name seems appropriate, sounds familiar. "Piercing, Pennsylvania."
I throw more sticks on the fire and try to bask in the crackling branches, holding my sore hands over it. My thoughts become comfortably blank. My eyes open and see her still shivering in those doll rags like a hurt animal. She looks over and meets my gaze, bites her lip.
"Can I...?" she starts. I nod and she sits next to me, wraps her arms around me.
I feel a cold flash behind my eyes. I open them to see the forest changed, wrapped in muddy shadows. I'm alone. The fire is white plasma and the world colorless. My skin turns clammy and my hands shake feverishly. I brush my skin and feel nothing but cold pressure.
I blink again and it's gone. A chill runs through me till I feel our shared heat. She takes a deep breath and nuzzles closer. I lift my hand. It's no longer shaking.
I feel awkward in the silence. "Nice of you to warm me when you're so much colder," I say. "You must be very caring."
"Ha! I'm full of it!..." she laughs and squeezes me. "I'm just feeding off your heat." But I see compassion sparkling in her eyes, a little vitality, and a smile growing in her pale cheeks.
I take off my silky brown sweater and drape it over her back. I only have a black cotton tank-top underneath. She shakes her head.
"I'm warm enough." Though it's hardly true. "But I'm keeping the pants."
"Oh well," she goes, wrapping a soft arm around my goosebumps.
We get a little warmer and stop shaking so much. The dull world sharpens out of the shivering dream. My mind starts to flood with thoughts again.
"How do you feel?" I ask.
"Are you kidding me? Fucking cold!" She laughs and lets out a massive shudder that passes through us both.
"I know, the fire's bad and it's cold. But I mean... you got away. Isn't that what you wanted?"
She stares into the fire. "Yeah... I was always gonna leave... someday. Didn't expect it anytime soon." She looks at me. "Maybe I never woulda got out. I wanted to kill Matty since I was a kid. I never got a good chance... because he's too smart... because I kept making excuses." She shakes her head clear. "Then you came along. I don't know where you came from but... that's all it took? You don't know how many times I stared at that window. I don't know how you did it..."
I shake my head. "We both did it. But how are you now?"
She shrugs, straightens her back. "The whole world's different. It's scary... in a way I never felt before. New, bigger. I feel alive. I feel like maybe I finally decide what happens to me."
"You do."
"Maybe. If I can make it out of this town alive." She squeezes me for warmth. "I don't know if I wanna decide everything for myself. I'm dumb and fucking scared. I don't have a dime or anywhere to go. I don't have anything... except you..."
"It's okay," I say. "I'm not leaving. I don't think it's a good idea to split up yet." She flinches at that last word, yet. I don't know where I would go next anyway. Not back to that church. There's nowhere for me to be but here. "If we don't take care of each other, no one else will. I don't think we'd stand a chance of getting out of this shithole. I wouldn't. I'll just fall into the void and die."
"The void?" she asks.
I shake my head. "I don't know... it's just some idea in my head. I don't... feel alive. I feel like the universe is trying to melt me into sludge or smash me to dust. I didn't feel alive till I met you back there. I don't even know my name or where I'm from. Really."
"Huh. Well, how'd you end up in that crappy old church? Were you sleeping there? Matty kicked some hobos out that were shooting up there before..."
"I can't remember." I smack my forehead. The back of my head throbs into a full headache. "It's all just flashing images and light and dark. Then nothing. All I knew was it was somewhere familiar. Somehow I know some of the streets here. I even had money stashed in the woods. I didn't remember it existed till I needed it to get to you."
"That's fucking crazy, dude. You had money hidden in the woods?" Does she think I'm lying?
"I wonder what else I don't remember. I can't remember anything. And I feel like the world's trying to catch up to me and suck me under. If I don't keep moving, I'll just disappear into nothing and no one would even know."
"Psh," she goes. "You and me both. That's just life. You gotta keep fighting to survive. Ain't it obvious? You keep going or it eats you up."
"I guess so."
"Don't guess, just do it and stay alive. For yourself and..." she blushes a little. "I mean, if you wanna stick together or whatever, you can't just give up. I'll watch your back. But only if you got mine. Just to be square, you know? One back scratches the other." She stretches clawed, grasping hands toward the campfire.
"Sounds good." I look into the fire and try to think. "Hey, you really don't have a name?"
Her bottom lip sticks out. "Not really. Matty never let me have one. He always just called me Baby or 'his girl..." She bites her lip. "Yeah, fuck all that. I used to pick names off TV or books when I was a kid. But no one would call me what I picked, especially Matty. He'd get so mad, he'd hit me. He said my name was Baby and that was it... Fuck!"
I squeeze her forearm and she tries to tug away. I suddenly realize my hold is iron-tight, and let go. She stares at her arm in astonishment, leaving her body for a moment.
"I'm sorry." I scoot away. "I don't know why I did that."
She blinks and looks at me. "It's whatever. That's some grip you got."
"I guess. So um... what names did you like?"
Her head turns, the corner of her eye burnished by the pitiful fire.
She sighs. "Ugh, I don't know. Samantha. Sam. A million other ones."
"Then I'll call you Samantha."
"No!" she yells then looks around nervously. "God, no, that's so stupid. Can't believe I liked that stupid name. All those names were stupid, all of 'em... they're all gone now. Maybe I could've kept one... probably any of them... but not now."
I hum. "I have an idea. Since you're so caring..." I wait to say it, suddenly fearing she'll hate it. "How about... Care?"
Her brows furrow and she loses herself in the fire again, till I wonder if she can even hear.
"Care?" she goes. "That's a pretty cool name. Not really true, but sounds good. Yeah, I'm a real caring bitch." She snickers and her big bug eyes point at me. "Well what about you then? If you don't have one and you get to pick mine, then I pick yours, right? Square."
"I guess I need to be called something."
She rubs her hands deviously, canines gleaming.
"Well, you have a pretty voice. How about Cadence?"
I blush. Pretty voice?
"Cadence- what does that mean?" I ask.
She shrugs. "Something to do with music. Who cares? It's pretty."
"Is it even a name?"
"It is now," she says. "Is Care even a real name?"
"Charis is," I reply. At least I think it is. Locked away memories. Europe. Paris.
"Ohmygod!" she squeals. "Is it? Yeah, that'll be my official name. Yeah! Charis and Cadence. It's perfect. Partners in crime."
"Do we really wanna have two C names?" I go. "I feel like we're starting a band or something."
"A sick punk band!" she exclaims and thinks for a minute. "Okay, Kadence with a K then. Fuck, that's much cooler anyway, don'tcha think? I love K names."
My eyes lift to the starry sky through the barren tree branches and I hear them sing. All this naming is too much for my brain to handle.
"I like it," I say. "It has a ring to it. It might sound... too pretty? I don't know."
"Too pretty?!" she nearly shouts. "But you're gorgeous!"
I look down to my pale, slender arms, scarred all over, scratched and bruised, hands like leather and knuckles like stone.
She did say my voice is pretty. My voice is soft, now that she mentions it, while hers is striking- high and whiny, like an adult and a child's in one. "Okay... Kadence and Charis it is," I agree.
"Kade and Care. You gotta have short versions. Kadence and Charis are, like, our legal names, ya know? Care and Kade though, isn't that perfect? I think your name might be cooler than mine. Maybe we should switch..." She laughs and looks off. "Just kidding. I'm already attached to mine. Jeez, coming up with our own names. Is this freedom?"
I shrug and laugh. I'm amazed we can have fun while we're half-freezing, shivering by a flickering fire in a dream forest, surrounded by infinite nightmare and unlimited possibility. For a moment, I feel born anew.
I feel for my sweater but she's got it on her. I get up and flail my arms and slap at my shoulders like I'm covered in mosquitos. It warms me a little.
"My nipples are freezing," she says casually, pulling a glass bottle from her purse.
"What's that?"
"Brandy!" she declares, taking a giant swig. "Best drink in the world. Rum is second. Then vodka. No, maybe wine... I dunno... brandy's first."
"Alcohol?"
"Duh!" She laughs and hands it over. "Umm... do you even drink?"
I look at the amber liquid in the bottle and swirl it, lit up against the background of crackling flames. It's inexplicably succulent.
Spirits, I think, putting the spout to my lips, feeling the cold of the glass, the sting of the liquor, taking it in. It's harsh but... somehow refreshing. It burns on the way down, but I keep drinking, suddenly realizing how thirsty I am. There is a sudden overwhelming sensation in my stomach, and my body jerks. The insides of my nose melt and scorch away. I spit and retch, coughing up a fit.
"Aaah!" she shrieks, snatching the bottle from me, then bursts into laughter. "I guess you do kinda drink! Jeez, it's halfway gone already! Why'd you go and waste my brandy like that?"
"I'm sorry!" I cough. Snot and booze shoot out of my nose and mouth.
"It's okay. She takes another big gulp. "You didn't waste much. Pretty badass anyway, in a way."
I wipe my face, the burning finally seceding. I feel like I'm about to spit out little pieces of the inside of my head. Memories of something locked away.
"Sooo... do you like it?" she jeers hopefully.
"Um... yeah, it's... pretty alright actually. Except for burning the shit out of me."
"Wow, you swore!" Her face becomes a big childish grin. "You're not supposed to drink so much at once, you know, or that happens. It's not juice. It's my favoritest drink ever and I don't even drink it like that. Usually. Ha!"
"Your favorite, huh?" I go. "Then you should be Care... Brandy."
"...Realllly? Ohmygod, yes! I like that! Yes!" she squeals.
"It was just a joke..." I murmur.
"Okay, okay then. So you need a last name too. Aaaaand... I've got the perfect one. Since you're so calm and cool, and your eyes are like frost, how about Winter? Kadence Winter. Perfect, right?"
A cold breeze blows through the trees, darkening our fire. I'm reminded of the vision of grey mists and white flames. I'm afraid for a moment like when I saw it, but suddenly reality seems to settle in on itself.
"Yeah," I say. "Perfect."
"Ya-ay!" she cheers. She swigs the booze and plops next to me again, holding me tight.
My vision blinks and shakes. Back in the colorless mists alone. The white fire watches me as I look upon it. Shadowy figures step out from the trees ahead, their eyes blazing blood red. They all stare at me at once. As they slowly approach, the white fire dims and dies down. The forest turns to darkness.
I wrench forward from Care's grip. She slides back quickly.
"What's wrong?!"
"Nothing. I just got scared." I stand, shivering. "We shouldn't stay here. We need to move. We need to get warm clothes."
"Okay..." She looks up and sideways at me. "How do we do that?"
"I don't know. I spent most of my money. Steal some. Shoplift it."
She smiles brightly, downs more brandy, then stuffs the bottle in her purse. "Okay, Main Street, then! Sounds peachy."
"Yeah, peachy." I take a deep breath. "So you stay here while I go into town. I'll find a store, get what we need-"
"Woah, no no no no no! No way I'm staying here alone!" she yells. "I mean, it'd be a hell of a time finding your way back. Then I'm fucked. I'd probably freeze to death here and it'd be your fault. What if someone found me here alone?... Jeez, day one and you're about to abandon me to be raped to death by snowmen in the woods. Clearly I'm the better carer here, yup. I'll keep the name, thank-you-very-much."
"Okay, okay, I get it. I just didn't think it was a good idea to take you into town so soon after getting away."
Her eyes thin. She reaches into her purse and takes another giant gulp of brandy. "It's a big world out there. We'll be fine." She burps and giggles.
"Okay, if you say so. Let's get into town before all the stores close. It's gotta be eight already." In truth, I have no idea what the time is. Maybe the stores are already closed. I start spreading the campfire around and stamping it out.
"What're you doing that for?"
"So we don't start a fire..." I go.
"What for? No one would care if this town burnt to the ground." She cackles devilishly.
I lift my foot from the ashes.
We walk off by early moonlight. I keep hearing her bottle open, the sound of liquor jangling inside.
(...)
The town lights cast the clouds with a dull glow. Glossy black street lamps burn like looming spears of fire, making the cold more ravenous. We're all but naked to it. Care keeps on guzzling booze for heat.
We weave through alleys full of distant shouts and sounds and reach a street where the shops are wide awake. Storehouses for elites, connoisseurs of material vanity. Images roll through my head, of criminals making their wealth selling life and feeding addictions to beggar the poor for the little value they own, then spending it on stuffed closets of name-brand garments. Relationships, families, minds, health, integrity, hopes, dreams, lives... sold.
Gangsters and peddlers bleed it all from the foolish and weaker till they're all dead and evil as one another. The town is cursed, afflicted by itself, eternally rotting from the inside out, never given to the oblivion it deserves. Maybe someday God will swallow it all up in the earth and put the great beast to sleep. Maybe someday it will burn itself up and be consumed in its own hellfire.
"You okay?" she asks, stuffing her bottle into her bag.
"Huh? Yeah... just looking for a place to go." But really I'm nervous.
"Okay..." Her eyes watch the ground while a fancy boutique catches mine. "RI$H" its sign reads in spotlights, shining gold from within.
"Here. That place is perfect," I point. "It's full of people, so we can blend in easier, even if we look like insane hobos- uh, no offense. But good quality clothes. We're gonna need that."
Care looks at me sideways, a little anxious. "More expensive, more security," she comments, her hand shaking, finishing the last sip of brandy.
I shrug. ���If we don't get some real clothes, we're gonna freeze to death. And if we get all we need now, we don't have to risk it again."
"You realize all the cops in this town are dirty as hell. If we fuck up and get caught, they'll beat us till we can't walk then probably sell me back to Matty or someone even worse. And do the same to you... or just gangrape you and dump your body in a river."
I'm silent. A cold breeze blows through my hair. "Yeah, so we don't mess up."
She winks and smiles. "Duh. I'm not worried. I never told you, but I'm actually kind of a pro at stealing." Her cheeks are rosy.
I hope so. "We also need gloves, hats..."
"Scarves, socks, underwear, long-johns, belts, bandanas. Sure, I got all that," she says surely, smiles wide. "And bras, what size are you?"
I shrug.
She slithers behind, cups my breasts. I feel a chill. "Looks like B for you. Lucky you." She scrunches her tits together, filling her hands. "These can be such a burden."
"I forgot I was even a girl..." until when, I can't exactly remember.
She laughs, thinking I'm joking. "Maybe when you're in something hotter, you'll remember."
"So you're ready then?"
She nods and reaches into her purse for the brandy.
"You shouldn't. They'll smell it on you. It'll draw attention," I say.
She pulls away. "Don't worry about it. I work better drunk." She takes a big gulp of nothing, throws the bottle and it shatters on the pavement.
I look around and sigh, less and less sure of the plan but getting colder and colder.
She shivers, stretches and yawns. "Fuck. Okay. Let's do this."
She marches through the black, steel-rimmed glass doors and I follow after a minute. It's warm and heavenly inside, all beige and crimson and gold trim. Wandering bodies waddle about shopping, noses high, ignoring me or scowling. I see the emptiness in their eyes, a look that makes me sick. I imagine the town's lust for blood, sex, drugs, and these rows and rows of fine clothes are just one more thing I can hardly understand.
I watch for the watchers. No doubt they're mixed with the crowds. I see skulking shoppers with darting bloodshot eyes, and wonder if they're helpful distractions trying to do exactly what Care and I are trying to do... or store agents in disguise... or just unwanted attention. Time slows and the fluorescents brighten.
Where is she? The store grows larger and its linear forms bend and turn, ever-stretching racks of clothes. The people become blank forms in artificial light. I catch sight of her near the underwear and accessories holding a flashy tan bag that looks half-full already. I'm impressed but nervous. I'm barely ready to steal my own clothes yet.
I pick up a few tops and put them back quickly. Not even my size. A million eyes are pouring on me from the wandering bodies. Blend in, keep your head down. A darkly tanned woman with purple eyeshadow looks up far too often, picking up nothing. I casually move away from her. I see the top of Care's head far off, just above the isles. Suddenly she pops up and her eyes lock onto mine. She glances toward the same woman then continues shopping. Maybe she isn't an amateur. I should be moving faster.
I start hanging a pile of clothes over my arm. Jeans, sweatshirts, sweatpants, socks. The purple-eyed lady comes nearer and I lose heart, start grabbing girly junk that I'd just as soon throw off in a puff of clothes if I race out. Maybe I should have played the distraction while Care got away with things for us both, but it's too late now.
I spot Care across the store again with a bulging bag and confidence. For a moment, I lose most of my worry, but instantly it returns. I'm overcome with the desire to just get out. I almost drop everything and go, but my eyes meet hers again, halfway across the store. She winks twice and I take it as a signal, reluctantly making my way over to her at the changing rooms. There's a girl that seems to be watching them, but I notice track-marks on her arms and drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. I breeze past her into the stall beside Care's.
There's a light beechwood bench inside and a foot of space between the bright red dividing wall and the tiled floor, enough to make it stare up at you, feeling prying eyes watching your feet.
Care's head suddenly peeks from beneath the wall, strings of tousled golden hair falling from a bun she fashioned.
"Here, I'm full. Take this and change," she whispers, passing the stuffed purse to my side. "Trust me. Then get out of here as soon as you get your stuff on. I'm gonna move to the other end once these bitches clear outta the next rooms."
"Is that really a good idea?"
"Yeah, of course." Her head disappears and reappears over the painted wall. "It's an amazing idea. Tactics. Displacement. Key to success. History Channel."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I sigh. "But I guess at this point you're in charge."
"That's right!" she gleams. "Now get dressed. Free clothes ahoy!" She snickers and disappears like a mouse. I hope no one heard her.
I throw off my tank-top and tattered scrubs and leave them on the bench. I'm naked, so I throw on a black bra and underwear that seem to fit. I put on a heather grey v-neck t-shirt from the men's section, dark jeans, and a black cotton peacoat. A scarf hangs out of the bag, black and white squares. I wrap it around my neck and tie on glossy boots and stuff the tags into the bottom of the bag.
Care appears under the divider. Her eyes thin and widen. "Gorgeous!" she gasps. "You look fancy as a high-class boy toy! You'll make it out for sure. Own that bag!... Seriously... hold onto it. It's got most of my stuff in it." She disappears again and I shudder.
I turn around and stare at my reflection in a tall mirror. My marred arms covered, I notice my skin is smooth and pale, luminous even in the dim light. My hair is long and straight, almost black, my nose thin and pointed. My lips are full and purple-pink, not like Care's red one. I run an open hand down my face to see if it's really mine, spread my eyelid and soft bottom lip like a mask.
A moment before I couldn't pick myself out of a lineup, but apparently this is me. A pale tall girl with a thin long face.
I feel the vanity of the store overtaking me and feel disgusted. This isn't the time for mirror-gazing.
I open the stall, keep a calm demeanor. Slowly, surely, I make my way out, leaving some decoy clothes I'd carried around the store hanging in the stall.
The exit approaches faster and faster. I expect to be tackled at any moment. The rich can't let the poor steal warm clothes so easily. But no one stops me.
As I nearly pass the last aisles, I turn and start fake-browsing again, by nerve or instinct. There's no one waiting at the doors. Why stop? I watch the changing rooms for Care. I can't leave her behind...
A tall, strong-looking man catches my eye. He wears a dark blue skin-tight t-shirt, boots and jeans. Tan and hairy, clean-shaved head, a biker mustache with a shadow of a beard on a chiseled, jutting chin. He's alert and vigilant, seems focused on the stall area. A damning fear besets me.
He's waiting for her. This is the great fuck-up. All the distant horrors close in. Security grabbing us and handing us to dirty police to drag us off to torture and death... they all become stone-cold reality about to unfold before my eyes, and I can do nothing but flounder and fall.
"Fuck. No," I whisper.
I snake through aisles, watching him and the stalls intently. He begins to walk toward them and I do too. Have to think of something...
My heart skips a beat as a changing room door slowly opens. Care emerges in fit blue jeans and a faded yellow long-sleeve under a tan winter coat and brand new white running shoes.
I move faster and brace myself. I slam into the man and knock him back a few steps so he nearly falls over backward.
"What the fuck!" he erupts. A few heads turn. He looks me over and becomes calmer. "Don't you watch where you're going?"
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" I pour out apologies and pick up the bag, pull my face into a grimace as if ready to bawl. He steps back annoyedly and walks off, peering backward a second.
I flash out of the act to see Care walking for the door. She peers back with a nasty stare and my stomach clenches. I squeeze my fists and breath, then start on my way out.
She makes it out the doors. I sweat. Any moment, they'll swoop in...
Outside. The cold kisses my face and the new garments shield me. I trot into a greasy alley lit by one dim light. It smells like a dirty pizza shop back here.
Care appears from behind a dumpster.
"We did it," I say, a breath of fresh air and victory shaking in my voice.
"Yeah." She rolls her eyes. "What the fuck was that? Running into that guy? You almost got us caught."
"He... you didn't see? He was coming right for you. I distracted him so you could get away..."
She slaps her face. "Don't you pay attention? That guy came in with a chick. He didn't work there. There were three loss-prevention guys I counted. That crispy fat bitch that looked like a tranny, the blond twink kid, and the short muscly guy with the Ravens cap. He was the one I was worried about. I lost sight of him and didn't even see him on the way out. I'm surprised we made it out at all. He was onto me."
My shoulders and head drop. I feel like an idiot.
"Ahh, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I guess you didn't know. It could've gotten sticky in there, but we made it out, so it's okay. Just be more careful next time, eh?" She puts a cold hand on my cheek. In a flash, I see a tall man before me, his gargantuan hand petting my face. I'm afraid.
"Hey?" she says. And I'm back where I am.
"Okay..." I say quietly. "I'm sorry." She lifts my chin up, meeting our eyes.
"It's fine," She smiles. "We're fine. Solid gold. Now let's go figure out some food. I'm starving."
(...)
Care pops out of a dumpster like a mouse, holding a bag of old bread rolls.
"This lighter isn't bright enough. I can't see shit!" she whines. "But look what I found." She throws a bag of potato bread buns at me. II brush some foul-smelling liquid off my new coat. She hops down with a mostly-empty bottle of black nail polish and pops a can of beer. "Who would throw good stuff away? People are crazy."
The bag is moist on the inside but the buns are stale and taste like shit. We scarf them down joyfully and follow it with beer.
She lights a half-smoked cigarette, sits down and paints her nails, flicking the ash with her mouth.
"No explanation... a full can of Heineken, some perfectly good nail polish... even the rats round here must be picky," she mumbles through the ciggie.
"Unless the beer's just piss," I joke.
She sniffs the top, chugs. "Mmm, nope! Tasty." She takes a deep drag of the quarter cig and hands it to me. I'm not sure I want it, but the burning cherry and rolling wisps of smoke that billow from her lips make it alluring. I puff on it. The taste is odd, sort of bad, but I kind of like it.
"You gotta take it in your lungs," she snickers. "You're holding it in your mouth."
"Oh." After a few deep drags, I feel sort of calm and dizzy. She hands me the beer and I go to sip, but it's empty. She laughs. I toss the can and burnt-up cig. She lights another from nowhere.
"Sometimes I wonder how you just walked into the Ryan and saved my ass like it was nothing. You've got the mind of the world's toughest ten years old,��� she says. "Sorry, that was probably offensive." She doesn't look sorry.
"The Ryan?" I cock my head.
She smacks her forehead. "The bar. Biggest whorehouse in Piercing, where all the worst people imaginable come together in one place? The place you just strolled into like you owned it and pulled out a very valuable working girl like it was nothing? That's the Ryan."
"Oh..." I look down. Images of it all flash through my mind. Most are unclear, the rest vivid and terrifying. "It wasn't nothing. It was the scariest thing ever."
"I bet!" she nearly yells. "How'd you pull that off?"
My eyes move left and right searching for unfound answers. "I really don't know. I just knew I had to. I knew I had that money hidden in a tree somewhere. I knew I'd find you at that bar, and how to get there. I knew how bad this town is as I walked down. I barely had a clue what I needed once I got in. I stole some guy's hat when he wasn't looking so I could hide my face a little. I found Matty and paid him for time with you. I didn't know any of it would work. I thought I was gonna die. But then it worked. It just had to."
"Wow..." Her shiny black fingernails hang over her knees with the ciggie. "That's fucking hard to believe... But I'll take your word for it, you did save my ass."
I suddenly laugh. "All seems like a dream now."
She flicks the butt at me with her hand holding the nail polish brush. "Yeah, you're my angel from Heaven. We're living the dream now, babe. Ha-ha!" She paints the last nail, blows on them, holds the backs of her hands straight out. "Pretty, huh?"
I nod. Then a dread feeling draws my head to the right. A tall figure approaching, his features invisible in the dim alley light. We rise to our feet, knees wobbling.
He stops six feet from us. "Stay right there you two. I saw what you did back there. That's a lot of stolen stuff. A lot of trouble. Big, big trouble.�� He steps closer and we step back.
"I don't know what you're talking about, buddy," Care says. "Better take a hike."
"I work at that store," the guy goes on. "I'm a cop, too. I can arrest you both right now, take you down to the station. I bet your parents will be mad. But not as mad as my buddies, because we hate thieves. It's real, real bad to take what ain't yours."
He steps closer, but this time we're frozen. Something evil grows in him, in my gut, a weight that holds us down.
"But I don't wanna do that over some clothes. You guys don't even have a place to go, do you? You even have parents? Family? See, you need help. I promise I won't arrest you. You can even keep the clothes you stole. You need 'em. But you gotta make a promise to me... come back to my house so I can get you some food and water and get you guys some help."
"We should run now," I whisper. She nods, her whole body shivering with fear.
The man catches onto us and grimaces. He draws a gun. A flash, an explosion of light, and I'm gone.