“Yeah, I got it.” Jack’s dull eyes would have lit up, if they weren’t already dead inside. “Who’s this?” she asked.
“Archie. I said you could help him out.”
Susie scowled at the second man. He was short and stocky in a gabardine coat, with a red nose and yellow-tinged eyes. His collar was pulled up the back of his neck to keep out the rain. A drunk for sure, but he didn’t look like the others. He wasn’t addicted yet. That wouldn’t take long. Susie caught Archie’s eye, then quickly looked away. A prickle of fear caught her neck. There was something in him, not far below the surface. Something off.
“Like I have a choice.” Susie looked up the street, in the opposite direction the men had walked in from. A nondescript beige car was parked on the side of the street. The man inside was watching her from behind a newspaper. Ernie, one of her father’s goons. He’d been sitting there for the past two hours. Watched as the last four men came and went. The man was dense enough to think that holding a newspaper up might look less conspicuous. She turned back to her customers, intent on getting it over with so she could walk home. Ernie was only there to make sure she stayed to do the work. He didn’t give a shit about her being out in the rain.
Jack glanced nervously up at the beige car. He was smarter than Ernie, even with his head a mess inside. Susie noticed that he was skinnier again, barely recognizable from the man she met a year before, when he’d first come to the brick fence. She never knew where they came from, just that they’d turn up at this park looking for her, and that she’d better bring home what was owed, or her father would take it out of her with his belt instead.
“Great. Thanks for coming, kid.”
“I’m not doing you any favors. I’ve been waiting in the rain,” Susie said, without much malice. She could tell Jack had spent the day scouring the city junkyards, searching for metal he could sell to scrap dealers to pay for his habit. His filthy hands and scarred face identified him as a ‘junkie’ as much as his days spent rummaging through the dump for junk to sell. Anything would do, but metal got the highest price. Most of the men Susie sold to were like Jack; young men that fell from the bottom rungs of a working underclass, caught in addiction that grew out of sniffing in alleys and dance halls until they couldn’t live without the rush. The euphoric escape from grit and mediocrity. ‘Junkies’ were the newest wave of addicts on the streets of New York, a social disease that her father, Roy, administered to like a doctor prescribing pills. Very expensive pills that left a trail of track marks and body bags. Including her mother’s.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean you to get wet.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when it rains.” Susie wiped the drizzle out of her eyes. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small decorative glass jar, holding two remaining rolls of heroin. It was precious. Not because of the contents, which she despised, but for the jar itself. It was made of rose pink glass with beveled edges and a silver lid. She’d slipped it off her mother’s dressing table after the funeral, along with the silver box and a few precious bits and bobs she’d hoped her father wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t of course, before he’d dumped the rest of her mother’s belongings at a shelter. “Pop said eight dollars this time.”
“Eight! Shit man, I only got seven! It was seven last time, I swear.”
“Pop said it’s more now. It’s harder to get and he’s got plenty of paying customers, so if you don’t want it -” She pushed the jar back in her bag, watching Jack’s eyes widen. “You’re better off without it anyway.”
“Kid, please!”
“It’s eight dollars or nothing.” She knew Jack was lying. He’d made seven dollars fifty selling scrap since Tuesday and stolen another dollar from a lady’s bag on the subway yesterday. It was all there, clear as day in his head. The first time she’d believed him, against her own better judgment. Thought he was just mixed up. She’d earned five straps for that missing dollar from Pop’s belt. No doper was worth that. Not even an almost-nice one like Jack.
“What about you?” She looked up at Archie, ignoring Jack’s pleas to get it cheap.
I bet she’s up for it. Street kid. Looks like she’s been around. Susie froze. Archie still hadn’t said anything. Out loud. But inside, he was all talk.
“Might be interested,” he said. “What else are you selling?”
Susie shivered, suddenly far colder than she had been before. She took a step back, sinking into a muddy puddle with her left shoe. Archie’s eyes were on her dress, searching for a way in.
“I’ve got money, kid.” Archie said, pulling his lips back into what he thought was a smile. “Wanna make some extra? I bet they don’t pay you enough to sit out in the rain all afternoon. I’ll take a gram of what he wants and a piece of you too. I know a place.” His hand flicked out and caught her wrist, still half inside her school bag.
“Forget it.” Susie wrenched her hand away. His fingers were slippery with rain.
She looked over at the parked car up the street. The newspaper was just resting on Ernie’s face. He was snoring, asleep. Useless bastard.
“Come on. I’m not gonna hurt ya,” He slid his index finger under her collar and Susie slapped it away, stepping back.
Again, her eyes shot toward the newspaper-covered face in the warm parked car up the road. Ernie was out of ear shot, too far away and too stupid to help her anyway. She was on her own.
“Keep your grimy hands to yourself.”
This new guy, Archie, had a head full of dark thoughts. Each one bore into her mind like a parasite. Filthy and dangerous. Susie could feel the blood draining from her face and her fist clenched around the strap of her bag.
Jack stopped his pleading for a moment and caught up on his friend’s intentions. His eyebrows shot up and his hands clenched nervously. “Nah man, you don’t wanna do that,” he said, “Roy’ll have your guts for garters.”
“Roy who?”
“Her pop, ya fat-head, who else?”
“Yeah well, who’s gonna tell him? We make sure she doesn’t talk. Our secret, hey kid? You need money, right?”
Susie’s feet burned to run but her head knew there was a belt waiting at the other end if she came home without the cash.
“Just take your fix, man, and let’s get out of here,” said Jack. He was sweating now, his eyes desperately shifting back and forth between Susie and her school bag where his euphoria was tempting him, stashed inside a roll of paper. “Here,” Jack fumbled in his pockets and pulled out a handful of crumpled notes and coins. “What do ya know, I got eight dollars.” He tried to shove it into Susie’s fist, which was curled tight and ready to strike. She pulled her hand away. Taking it now would do her no good at all. If she set Jack free with his dope, she’d be left alone with Archie.
Susie was biting her lip so hard it hurt.
“Him first. Archie has to pay first,” she said. Jack looked desperately to the other man.
“Go on then,” he begged.
“And?” Archie pressed.
“I want your eight bucks first.”
“You don’t have to -,” Jack began, but Susie glared him down.
Archie’s watery eyes shone with greed.
“Done.” He pulled the money from his wallet and passed it to Susie, who counted it, then grabbed Jack’s and shoved the cash into her school bag. She pulled out her precious pink jar, unscrewed the lid and carefully retrieved the last two paper rolls. The first one she handed to Archie, who quickly shoved it into his coat pocket, keeping his hands there and bouncing on the balls of his feet. She pulled the strap of her school bag over her head and tightened the lid on the now-empty jar.
“Come on,” Archie growled.
Susie looked at him and smiled carefully, then handed the second roll to Jack. The transaction was done.
“It’ll kill you,” she whispered to Jack, but he wasn’t listening.
“What about the rest?” Archie said, his lip twitching nervously. “Behind that wall, that’ll do. I do
n’t need fancy for the likes of you.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Susie announced, lifting her chin as she stepped backwards. “Now both of you get lost. And don’t bring him again,” she yelled at Jack. But Jack had already turned away, clutching the paper roll like lifeblood. He scuttled across the street into the darkness, leaving her. Susie turned toward the beige car, hoping Ernie was awake. The back-lights of the car were disappearing around the corner of the street. He’d seen the transaction finish; his job was done. She was alone.
“You little wretch!” Archie sprang forward, grabbing Susie before she could run. Thick fingers dug into the flesh of her arm, burning as she twisted and turned to escape them. She clawed at his hands with her free one, belting his knuckles with her precious pink jar with the other. He was dragging her toward the toilet block. “You owe me one!”
“Get off me you creep!” Susie screamed. Her mary-janes skidded along the dirt, desperately trying to gain grip against the drag. Away from the streetlamp, darkness felt as if it might swallow her whole. “Let me go!” An upwelling of fear boiled inside of her like a volcano. Something exploded.
Susie spun the man toward her, somehow defying his brute strength. She wrenched her arm back with all her might. Her mother’s glass jar smashed against the side of Archie’s head. For a moment he stood, stupefied, swaying on the spot. Then he crumpled to the ground.
Susie stood, staring. Breathing. Her legs wouldn’t move but her ears thumped with the blood rushing inside her veins. She blinked. Cold. Wet. Separate. Like she was standing in a bubble, looking down at the man without being sure what he was. Susie uncurled her fingers from the precious jar, slowly. It was broken. The thick glass had cut her hand and she was cupping blood along with the beveled pieces of her mother’s trinket.
At her feet, the man groaned. In a flash, she took off. If she’d been more aware of her own body, she might have noticed that she was running faster than she ever had before. Unnaturally fast. But she didn’t. The only part of her mind not terrified into stupidity was the part telling her to run.
To the only person with whom she had ever felt safe.
As she rounded the corner into the street where he lived, Susie slowed down. Her breath was already even. Her mind was clearing. Jacob was outside his house, leaning a gray bicycle against the fence so that he could push open the gate. A pair of boxing gloves hung from the handlebars. A light jumper was pulled over his shirt and long shorts.
Jacob was fourteen now and the past year had changed him. His childish jaw was becoming more defined and handsome. A healthy glow lit his cheeks since he and his friends had begun playing baseball every afternoon on the vacant lot near school, spurred on by their idolatry for Babe Ruth, who’d hit four home runs for the Yankees in last year’s season. Jacob was thriving, as any adored, intelligent boy should. But he never for a moment, lost his affection for the girl he’d first come across kicking pebbles by the side of the road outside her house with a bruised eye and a stubborn heart.
“Jake,” Susie said quietly, as she met him.
He looked up and caught sight of her, instantly breaking into a wide smile. It just as quickly dropped into horror.
“You’re bleeding!”
Susie looked down at her hand still clutching the pieces of her mother’s jar. Blood was smeared on the back, where it had run in rivulets between her fingers as she ran.
“Oh.” Susie let the shards of rose glass fall gently to the grass. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, she stood waiting. Jacob rushed forward and pulled her hands to him.
“You’ll need a bandage. Ima can do it,” he said.
“No! She’ll ask how I-” Susie pulled her eyes away from Jacob’s, unable to look at him, but he didn’t let go. Jacob’s hands felt so warm in hers, and she realized it was the first time he’d ever properly held them. Like, not kids. A rush of warmth and confusion came over her. She liked the feel of his hands on hers. But it wasn’t how she’d imagined it would be. With her just standing there, so scared and pathetic. So ugly, covered in blood and scrapes and rain. Tears stung Susie’s eyes. There was nothing for it. She let them fall. She reclaimed her hands and covered her face, riding out the waves of shock and misery until at last they subsided. Jacob stood, saying nothing, with his eyes on his shoes. When Susie finally looked up, his mouth was set in a hard line.
“It was your dad again, wasn’t it?” Jacob’s ears grew red, like they always did when he was angry. When Susie didn’t respond, he spun around to his bike again and pulled it away from the fence. “I wanna punch him in the head! I’ll get Pop to bring every copper in the city down on him. He’s a rat Susie, he should be in jail!” Susie dashed in front of the bicycle, clinging to the handlebars with bloodied hands.
“It wasn’t him, Jake! Not this time. I promise. Don’t tell your Pop or I’ll go to jail too! I was working! Please. You don’t know what happened.”
“So, tell me, then.”
“It was just some man. A customer. He turned up with one of the junkies and tried to hurt me. Wanted me to -” she looked down to the ground, pushing her shame and tears away with grubby fingers, “But I got away.”
“Some guy tried to hurt you?”
Susie nodded, then took a deep breath and lifted her eyes back up to meet Jacob’s. “But he didn’t. I hurt him. I couldn’t help it Jake, I just hit him so hard I thought that he was dead.” She shuddered. “But he wasn’t. I don’t even know how I did it.”
“I wish he was dead!”
Susie looked at him, horrified. “Don’t say that. Then I’d be a murderer! I just needed to get away before he woke up, so I ran.”
Jacob’s ears still burned, but his eyes softened.
“Come here.” He took her hand, pulled her gently down to sit on the sidewalk, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. For a while, neither of them spoke.
“I still hate him,” Jacob said, eventually.
“So do I.”
“If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be out selling that stuff in the first place. He should be in jail. Or worse.”
“And if he’s in jail, where am I, Jake? On the street? In some orphan asylum on the other side of town? I’d never see you. I’d have to leave school. Completely on my own. I hate him too, but I’m not ready yet for that - to be on my own.”
“Then let me come with you, when you’re working.”
“No way. The police chief’s son watching me sell dope on the side of the road? Pop would kill me. You know I’m not even allowed to see you.”
Jacob threw his hands up. “Well, there has to be something I can do! It’s dangerous. It’s gonna happen again.”
Susie shrugged. “Just be my friend. That’s all I need Jake. You’re the only one who understands.”
“Come on Susie-pocket. Please let me help,” he implored, draping his arm around her back.
“There’s nothing you can do,” she whispered, smiling sadly.
Again, they sat in silence. Every minute that ticked by brought Susie closer to having to go home to her father. She wasn’t any safer there than she had been on that fence. But at least, here, right now, she was safe.
Jacob suddenly sat up straight.
“I’ve got it!”
“Got what?! Smallpox?”
“Very funny. No, I’ve got an idea.”
Susie frowned, noncommittally.
“You can’t tell your Pop, Jake. You know that.”
“That’s not it.” He twisted around to face her. “I can’t stop your dad. Yet,” he added, scowling. “And I can’t stop him making you work. But I can do something.” He jumped up and pulled his boxing gloves off the handlebars of his bike. “My dad is making me take boxing lessons, so I can defend myself. In fact, I get to do heaps of sports that you don’t because you’re a girl: boxing, gymnastics, fencing, even a new type of fighting called karate. Mr. Iwate, the greengrocer, is teaching us that one on Saturday mornings at the scout hall.”
“I know
you want to defend me, Jake, but you can’t come with me-”
“That’s not what I mean.” Jacob took a big breath, sitting back down on the grass beside her. “I mean I can teach you. I’m learning it all because I’m a boy and you’re not, and that’s just not fair. You might be a girl, but you need to defend yourself. Way more than me. So, I’ll teach you everything I learn so that you can!”
A triumphant smile lit his face and his teeth shone in the dark.
“You’d do that?” Susie said, quietly.
“Of course! It’ll be fun too. I’ll show you everything you need to know. I’ll show you how to fight back. How to stay safe.”
Jacob scrunched his nose and lifted Susie’s hand to punch the air in front of them. “Pow! Biff! Wham!”
Susie laughed a little and pulled her hand away, knocking him with her shoulder playfully.
“Susie Pocket, Lightweight champion of New York City! You’ll be just like Gene Tunney - unbeatable! I promise. I mean, it will take a while, but why not?”
Susie bit her lip. A funny feeling was growing inside her chest.
“When?”
“After school, before your jobs. Anytime you want.”
Susie shook her head, resolutely.
“No way. You’ll miss baseball.”
Jacob rolled his eyes and leaned in, taking her bloodied hands in his own.
“Some things are worth missing baseball for.”
He was like sunshine in the middle of the night. Susie beamed.
“Okay, but you’re not missing baseball. We’ll work around it.”
“If you say so,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes. “Let’s start tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Now at least wash your hands before you go. I’ll get a washcloth to wrap them in. We’ll tell Ima you fell off my bike.”
“Thanks Jake.”
*
“Ready, kid?” Vince Carelli’s voice violated her inner thoughts and the memory slipped back into darkness until it was gone. She’d been lost, for a moment. Betty looked up, wide eyed. Vince and his men were still hidden in the shadows of the railway shed. The ambush was set. Betty felt the warmth of Jacob’s arm ghosting across her shoulders. It had been twelve years since that night, but it was a lifetime ago. She was, quite literally, another person now. But it was that night, cold and bloody and terrified, that had sparked the road to retribution that led her here, now. Ready to kill.
Avon Calling! Season One Page 10
