by R C Barnes
“Luther,” I said. “I think he’s a dealer.”
Luther cocked his head and looked at me. His expression was dark. “A dealer or a doer?” Luther asked.
That’s when I told him about Nick and the drugs in his jacket and the arrest. I added my suspicions were aroused when my backpack went missing for several days. The cleaning crew for the theater politely came over and asked us to go into the lobby. The next showing was about to start, and they had to let those patrons in. Luther and I exited the theater. It was then I noticed he had a bag with him.
“What have you told your mother?” asked Luther. “Anything?”
“I’ve told her all of it,” I replied. “She doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m making stuff up to make Todd look bad.”
“Well, what about this Nick, and the drugs he had. Your mother used to have a strict policy about stuff like that in the past.”
I nodded my head. “No drugs in the house and no drugs if you are an artist under her employ. But Nick wasn’t an artist, and my mom believed all the drugs were his. She thought Nick was the problem. And now he’s gone, and she believes it is over and done with.”
“So why don’t you?” Luther asked. His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me. “You know what I believe? I believe you need to stay away from this guy. Stay away from Todd. You can do that, can’t you?”
I hesitated, not sure why I felt it wasn’t over and why I thought it was Todd and not Nick, who was pulling strings in the operation. Nick had always given me the creeps, that’s for sure. But I wasn’t convinced he had been the one in charge. I had the sense Todd was the alpha in the pack. Nick had been holding the drugs because Nick was there to meet Todd at the house. He told the cops that. Would the alpha cough up somebody else so quickly?
Todd was crafty. I knew that well enough by the way he played me with the coffee mug dance. I thought Todd was too smart to allow the drugs to be on his person. Nick already had drug priors, so maybe Nick was expendable in Todd’s mind.
The whole thing made me wonder how much I know, how much was I guessing at, and how much was wishful thinking.
I looked over at Luther. We had taken seats on the benches in the lobby. Luther was finishing up the popcorn, picking at the edible kernels, and popping them in his mouth. He scowled at me and rubbed buttery oiled hands over his jeans. “I believe there was a lot of butter on that popcorn, baby girl,” he said.
I didn’t comment.
Luther got up and pointed to a package under the bench. “My hands are all greasy now, so you have to pick up that bag there and carry it out.”
“What is it?”
“Christmas gift for Echo. You can figure out how to give it to her.”
I looked inside and only saw one present wrapped up in silver paper. “Where’s mine?” I asked.
Luther leaned over and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. “There you go,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”
At the moment, that was all I needed.
Dear Jehovah, I had four packs of hot sauce. Not bad, huh. Seeing Luther helps.
CHRISTMAS FUBAR
Christmas happened.
Todd spent the night.
He tried to do Santa in the morning.
It was awful.
That’s all I’m going to say about it.
SHEEP
The pig was enormous. I mean, this sucker was huge. He was huge and ugly. Echo stuck her hand through the wooden slats to pet the animal. I reached out to stop her and pull her arm back, but she had already touched the pig’s dripping snout. Oh, Echo. Ewww.
“He’s nice,” my sister claimed. “Look, Bess, he’s letting me pet him.”
That’s because you’re cleaning the snot from his nose, I thought. Thank God I had brought wet wipes with me. I had one ready as Echo withdrew her hand from the pig’s pen.
I’ve never been a fan of farm animals. I lean more towards the exotic creatures at the zoo. But Echo wanted a day at Tilden Park, so I got Ollie to drop us off at the Little Farm so Echo and I could have a picnic lunch, hike around Jewel Lake, feed the ducks and then visit the donkeys, cows, sheep, goats, and pigs, residing at the farm. Seeing Echo touch and stroke every animal she could reach; I was glad we had already eaten our sandwiches.
There was a bus route that had a stop near the Little Farm. Instead of contacting Ollie, I thought it would be nice if we took the bus down the hill and then get ice cream somewhere downtown. I proposed the idea to Echo, and she was happy to say goodbye to the pig to have an ice cream treat.
The bus came within fifteen minutes, and soon my sister and I were seated, enjoying the ride, which was scenic in some spots. We were coming down from the Berkeley hills, and you could see the Golden Gate Bridge across the bay. Looking at the Golden Gate Bridge never gets old.
“I’ve got a riddle,” Echo started. I groaned loudly, and she pinched me on the arm. “Stop it. This is a good one.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“I live on a farm, and I give milk.”
“You’re a cow,” I said before she finished. She frowned.
“Here’s another one. I have feathers, and people like to eat me, and that doesn’t make me happy.” I said, “chicken” right after the word “feathers” left her lips. I laughed. However, Echo was not amused.
“Bess, stop it. You have to let me finish. You’re not being nice.”
“Okay, okay.”
She tried again. “People like to count me when they try to go to sleep.”
To play along, I answered, “you’re a goat.”
“No,” she responded, delighted I hadn’t said the right answer. “I’ll give you a hint because this is a hard one,” she said. “I’m white and fluffy.”
“Ugh, you’re right. This is hard,” I responded. I scrunched up my face like I was giving serious thought to the answer, and then I opened my eyes wide as if an animated lightbulb had flashed over my head. “Is it a rabbit?”
“No,” she squealed. “Do you want another hint?”
“No, no, that’s okay. I’ll get it.”
“Okay, here’s a hint,” Echo said. “Todd has some.”
That stopped me. Because in all honesty, the answer had to be sheep, and there was no way city boy Brad Pitt had sheep.
“Todd has sheep?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered. Her eyes glistened, excitedly. “I heard him on the phone. He said he had new ones. A whole bunch.” My sister had started playing with the beads of the bracelet she was wearing. It was an old one of mine with sparkly butterflies and colored wooden beads.
“When was this?” I asked. I tried really hard to keep my voice interested but not too interested.
“When he picked me up from school yesterday. He was talking on the phone about his new sheep.”
I waited a bit before talking further with my sister. I wanted to know about this sheep thing, but she had just given me a piece of information that made my blood surge like volcanic lava into my brain. I reached into my backpack, which I had used to carry our lunches and the wipes for Echo and pulled out two hot sauce packets. I opened the first one quickly and sucked down the sauce like people throw back a shot of tequila. The next one I savored more as I continued to talk to Echo.
Todd had picked Echo up at school. How the hell did that happen?
I knew how this worked. I remembered the paperwork my mother had filed with the school to give Luther permission to function as an intermediary parent when Echo was in the hospital. Schools don’t let just anybody pick students up, especially when the student was in elementary school. At the beginning of the year, the schools require parents to fill out these emergency cards, and you are supposed to list the names and contact info of three or four people who can take your kid. This is very important in California, especially if there is a fire or an earthquake keeping the parents physically from being able to get to the school. In fact, California makes you list a person who lives out of the immediate area, just in case the emergency i
s an earthquake, and a distant family member from Nebraska must come get you. You see, our state taxes are well spent. Some bureaucrat actually thought of that. They don’t want kids waiting in a holding area, because their home and family has fallen into the Pacific Ocean. Of course, in the lousy earthquake scenario, Echo and I are out of luck. There is no distant family member in Nebraska to come get us.
Echo was in first grade, so she got picked up directly from the classroom when school was out. There were three people on the emergency card for Echo; me, my mother, and Dusty. We were all familiar faces to Echo’s teacher. If Todd had picked Echo up, it meant my mother had added him to the emergency card.
Terry had never done anything like this before. No boyfriend had ever been added to the emergency card. There was that one time, the crisis situation when Echo was in the hospital, and she had placed Luther on my card. I was already in middle school, though, and not being physically picked up in a car.
This was some sick tangled shit.
Todd had burned himself recently, and it was all bandaged up. He looked like he was wearing a giant mitten on his right hand. He told my mom it would scar, but he didn’t have to have skin grafts or anything. How he injured himself was something stupid like putting his hand down on a hot skillet and not knowing it was hot. If I hurt myself like that, I would come up with a better story.
When I had told Ollie about my conversation with Luther and that Todd had been friends with Amy Honeywell, Ollie’s first response was Luther was over-reaching. Ollie insisted he would have known if he had seen Todd before. Then I reminded Ollie he hadn’t seen the guys that came with Amy when she cleared out her things. Ollie marinated for a while and then answered, “I have to think about this more.” But I noticed he stayed out of Todd’s way and watched Todd from a distance (usually the kitchen) with dark and hateful eyes.
I decided to tuck away Todd’s possible connection to Amy Honeywell for later, and instead focus on the improbability Todd had farm animals in his possession.
“Tell me what he said on the phone,” I said to Echo. “Todd doesn’t live on a farm, so where are his sheep?”
“How do you know he doesn’t live on a farm?” My sister threw back. My mother and Todd were continuing the “out the bedroom window and knock on the front door” farce, so Echo still didn’t know Todd was shacking up with mom.
I didn’t want to get caught up in a discussion of Todd’s sleeping arrangements or even mention the fact Todd had been using his cell phone while driving with my sister in the car, so I came at it a different way.
“You said he was talking about new sheep,” I prompted.
“Yes, he was on the phone and said to the guy he had new sheep he was bringing in and that things were going well, and he could carry more.”
“Carry more…what?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” My sister shrugged. “More sheep. Do you think he will let us see them so I can pet them?”
“Of course,” I replied. Happy with that answer, my sister settled into the bus ride, playing with her butterfly bracelet and announcing every five minutes what flavor ice cream she was going to try. My mind wandered as I looked out the window, and she chattered about chocolate chip, fudge ripple, or raspberry sherbet. It didn’t matter, she was just going to get vanilla with rainbow sprinkles.
Dear Jehovah, I had eight packs of hot sauce today. I know that’s on the high side, but I have a lot to think about. I must get rid of Todd, and I’d appreciate some help here.
INVITING THE VAMPIRE IN
I’ll admit at the start of this that my timing wasn’t perfect. I needed to talk to my mother about letting Todd pick Echo up at school, but I needed to speak to her alone. Todd was around all the time at the house. I guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t send another acquaintance of his to jail. The only place I could catch my mother without pretty boy hanging around was at Cosmic Hearts during the day. More importantly, it had to be a time in the shop when Dusty didn’t have an appointment, and she would excuse herself when she realized a family throw-down was about to begin. Now Todd only came into the tattoo studio at night when there was a Beloved ceremony going on.
I had to bide my time. My stunt with Nick did not keep the traffic down as I hoped it would. In fact, it got worse. Todd and his crew were behaving more and more like the house was their space. New faces would pop up, and I would be introduced as “the teenager of the house.” When I left in the morning, I would see Todd sipping his coffee in the breakfast area, reading a magazine, or checking messages on his phone. The mug wars had ceased because I was keeping my red mug underneath the bed in my room. But I felt I was being tracked and he was stationing himself outside my bedroom door like a jailer.
When I came home from school or after stopping at Cosmic Hearts, I would find Duane or Todd lounging around the front room, drinking beers, and acting like this place was a clubhouse. Sometimes Annika was there with her annoying giggle, but usually, if there was a girl, she was someone the guys had just met, and I didn’t bother learning her name because she wouldn’t be around for long. They were all space cadets.
Whenever I challenged the presence of Todd or his cronies, I always got some excuse or reason for them to be using our home as their drop-in spot. “I’m running an errand for your mother” or “I’m waiting for Annika to show up or Todd or whoever it was (it didn’t matter).” I felt like Todd told them what to say, and they were just challenging me to throw water on them. I stopped asking.
I would just go to the back where my bedroom was and keep my door locked. I would only come out for dinner and then slink back into my room. Ollie made the meals, but instead of calling us to eat together, he would leave stuff out so folks could help themselves, and then he would retire to his space upstairs. The muffled sound of opera arias wafted down. The dramatic music underscoring everyone’s mood.
According to Luther, the information I had on Todd didn’t amount to squat. I couldn’t call the police and say, “I think my mother’s boyfriend is a drug dealer.” Without evidence the police could use to arrest him, I was just a pissed off teenager who didn’t like her mother’s latest fling. The best evidence was the drugs themselves, but I never saw Todd holding the backpack.
Then there was the added problem of bringing the police into the mix when I didn’t have concrete evidence. Given my family’s relationship with law and order, if I tossed drugs into the recipe, I could count on Echo and I spending weeks in foster care while family court sorted everything out. No, the key for this to work with minimal bleeding was to have everything point to Todd and have my mother be blameless. I had no idea how I could do that.
Joanie and Rueben had stopped coming by, and I couldn’t blame them. I would see them at school and pretend everything was okay. They knew I was unhappy, but they didn’t ask questions. What was there to ask? “Is the creep still staying at your house?” My regular consumption of hot sauce was testimony enough.
Am I painting a depressing picture? Good. It was fucking depressing.
Todd was winning.
A week passed, and I was finally able to grab some alone time with Terry. I entered the shop after school, and purposely came in through the back. Since the missing backpack fiasco, I had continued to leave my backpack in the same spot on the highest shelves. I was thinking about trying to get a look inside the other pack to confirm its contents if I ever saw it. A green ribbon was tied on the top of my bag. I had done this intentionally in front of Duane so he would see the identifying ribbon and know it marked my bag. Then later, I would tie my ribbon onto Duane’s backpack and then sneak off with it so I could look inside. I saw this done in a movie with a briefcase. However, the excitement of laying a trap fizzled out when I realized I would only be ensnaring Duane, and there was no fun in that. I wanted Todd, and he never touched the backpack.
While I was doing inventory in the studio, a call came in, rescheduling their appointment with Terry. They needed to push it back a week. I saw this was wo
rk that had already been paid for so I could accommodate the request. I made the notation but didn’t tell my mother about the change because I realized it would give me a window of time to talk to her. Dusty was out for another hour, and my mother would be finished with the detailed oak tree tattoo she was inking on the thigh of a young woman in about thirty minutes.
When it was completed, and my mother was cleaning up. The young woman with a tree on her thigh came over to the counter to get the follow-up kit we hand out to our clients. I complimented the young woman on the work, telling her that she is going to be really happy when the tattoo heals.
“It’s so beautiful,” the woman gushed. “Even with the red skin all around it.”
I gave my spiel, cautioning her about peeling back the plastic bandage too soon. Then I handed over the oils we ask our clients to use and checked to make sure the account was paid in full.
Once the woman left, I turned to my mother, who was wiping down her chair in preparation for the next customer who wasn’t going to appear.
“Can we talk for a moment?” I asked.
“Not a good time, Bess. I’ve got someone coming in ten minutes.”
“They rescheduled,” I replied.
My mother slowed her movements down. She was thinking. She looked over at Dusty’s empty station and then back at me, realizing she was stuck with me for some time, and she couldn’t escape. She then sighed and moved over to the display counter, taking her customary seat and pulling out her crossword puzzle.
“Okay, what do you want to talk about?”
“I’d like your full attention.”
“You have it,” she said as she scratched an answer within the squares.
