Hiro Loves Kite

by Lauren Nicolle Taylor

  He slams the light off, and I’m left standing near the doorway drowning in shadows, bewildered.

  He finds me, and we walk back to his room.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No, you don’t.” His voice is gruff, and there is so much grief built up inside there. Death is the mortar for this wall he surrounds himself with. He begins pulling my wet clothes from my body. His fingers clasping my collar tightly like it’s a ledge he’s scared he will fall from.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, not really knowing what else to say. My coat falls to the floor.

  His words barely fit between his teeth. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is the world we live in. It’s all we have to work with. It’s just the way it has to be.”

  I let him lay down and hold me. His movements jerky as he begins to thaw. But I don’t believe him. I don’t believe we’re stuck here. I know we can change things. One thing’s for sure—these kids need a safer, warmer place to live.

  22

  HIRO

  I did it all wrong. And then, everything went wrong. She told me she loved me, and I didn’t say it back even though I do. I love Kite. The moment we kissed, it was like the sun exploded through the bricks. Sent them tumbling. Everything scattered and rearranged and settled into a better place. A meant-to-be place. But then I let my shit get in the way. And then Kamo… God, poor little Kamo.

  I try so hard, but I will never get used to losing them. It breaks my heart every single time. It’s so battered and fractured I’m sure it could go in one of those medical marvel jars at the fair.

  I swallow. Etch that pain in there and move on as best I can. Because the ones left alive still need me.

  Folding Kamo’s memory in half, I carefully pack it away.

  I have two things to do today. Both involve keeping promises.

  One promise makes me so nervous I can’t stop thinking about it. The other is never ending and never enough.

  I’ve never missed Kin so much in my life. He would know what to do. He would have a plan. I’ve not done this before.

  Pulling Krow aside, I ask him in a hushed voice, “How much do you think a movie ticket costs?”

  “One ticket?” I shake my head, and he gives me this sly smile I don’t really like. “Ah, two tickets. One for you and one for the dolly.” He knocks his head toward Kite.

  I manage a grunted yes, though I hate that he calls her a ‘dolly’. I wonder what he’s learning at this new job of his. It’s on my long list to teach him a thing or two about how to be a gentleman. I can imagine Kin’s eyes rolling behind my back.

  Kite is watching the other Kings, horrified, as they pick apart Kamo’s belongings. Her mouth agape, her eyes wide and blinking. Divvying them out fairly. This is such a bad idea. So much of my life causes her to make that face. But we can’t waste good blankets and bedding. Kelpie bounds toward me, then hands me Kamo’s comic books. “You wanna put this one on the ledge?” he asks.

  Krow pinches my arm, whispering, “I think it’s about fifty cents a ticket.”

  With a solemn nod, I walk over to a section of the wall where we’ve chipped out a few bricks. Inside, we’ve put something from each kid who has ‘found their mom’. I don’t need to count them. I know the number. And it’s too many.

  I shake it off. It does no good to dwell.

  The money from the sale of Kite’s things would be more than enough, but it bothers me to take her money to pay for a date. I stare at my hands. I need to go back to the docks.

  Kite taps me on the shoulder nervously. “What are you thinking about?” she asks, her eyes tainted with one splinter of pain that I put there, and another one that’s worked its way in—the result of living as a King.

  “I was thinking…If I’m going to take you out on a date tonight, I need to go back to the docks to earn some cash.”

  I think she’s going to argue with me. Tell me she has enough money to cover it, but she doesn’t. And this is one of the reasons I love her. She knows it’s important to me. So, she lets me go.

  “What can I do while you’re gone?” she asks, swinging her hips coyly. I smile, each tooth humming. The memory of our kiss, and then kisses, rattling my nerves. The world always feels like it’s spinning just a little too fast. And I’m never quite caught up.

  “Krow?” I shout as I change into my work clothes. “Do you get an employee discount?”

  He jumps, but has the decency to look sheepish. “Uh, yeah. Ten percent. Twenty-five on stock that’s close to expiring.”

  I won’t let her pay for the date, but she can certainly pay for groceries. “How about you do a quick inventory and then get what we need from the grocery store?”

  She salutes me. It’s adorable, and it’s embarrassing that it makes me blush. I avoid eye contact with Krow because I know he’s laughing at me.

  23

  KITE

  A date. Tonight. Hiro leaves, and it’s like I’m caught in a tail wind. Heart tugging through the door. Wanting to follow. Not able to. The words, the words, the words. I. Love. You. The catch in the door as he closes it behind him. The pain of not hearing it back has been pushed to the side. Kamo’s death means I can’t worry about such things.

  Frankie coughs, and it echoes through the tunnel. Or maybe that’s just how it sounds to me because it scares me. She can’t be an unknown face in the alley. My heart turns cold. A front to the harsh weather inside and out. Kamo was not unknown to us, but that is how he shall be laid to rest. After the snow melts and the sun warms the gaps between the buildings. I shudder. I can’t think about it. I just can’t.

  We cannot stay here. But convincing Hiro of that will be a challenge. A mountain to climb. A sea to drain.

  I touch my lips. The kiss lingers there. The press of his hands on my back as he drew me close leaves a brand. Someone tugs on my skirt, and I flush red. “Nor-ah, what ya dreamin’ about?” Frankie stares at me, blue eyes showing signs of knowing, the skim of blue on the surface.

  Taking a sharp breath, I rustle her hair. “Oh, nothing…”

  She squirms out from under my hand, and stands with her hands on her hips. “S’not nuthin’. But you never tell me nuthin’.” Her face reddens, her breath rattling in fast. She steps forward, pushing my stomach pointedly. “You never ever tell me nuthin’!”

  The Kings quieten around us. A bubble of nervous air billows out from where we stand. “Frankie, what’s the matter?” I ask, taking her hands in mine before she shoves me again.

  Her forehead, all splotchy and angry, creases. Freckles dotting her skin like a night compass. “You’re always leavin’. You never tell me why, and you never say where you’re going. You’ll leave, and may-bee you won’t come back!”

  There are tears. Hard as diamonds for how much they sting me, burrow beneath my skin. I kneel to face her. “Oh Frankie, I’m so sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot. I’m worried if I take you outside, you’ll be recognized.” I run my thumb over her fair freckles. “I’m just trying to protect you.”

  She draws in a wheezy breath. Mouth thin and dry. “From Deddy.”

  I nod. Swiping my miserable face. “Yes. From Daddy.”

  She sniffs, wipes her nose with the back of her hand and then on her dress, which is starting to look quite filthy. “I do know things. I know what he’s done. And this is ma problem, too, ya know.”

  My chin falls. “I know, darling, I know.” Of course I know. I guess in protecting her, I left her out of the decision-making process. And even though she’s only eight, she deserves a say in what happens in her life.

  Kelpie creeps up behind Frankie. Puts an arm over her shoulder. His blond curls falling in his eyes. “You okay, Kricket?”

  She huffs, her angular shoulders up around her ears. “I’m fine. Me and Nor-ah just had somethin’ to discuss.”

  Her serious voice makes me smile. I cup her cheek. Her skin is so soft, not patched together with bruises and breaks. It needs to stay that way. She leans into me
. “What is it you would like to know? I will tell you everything.”

  She frowns, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna know everythin’. I am only eight. May-bee just somethin’.” She presses her finger and thumb together. “Just a little somethin’”

  I press my palm to my heart. “Anything.”

  Satisfied, she asks, “Are you an Kettle, um, are you a…” She claps her hands together and looks up at the ceiling, searching for the right words. Not finding any, she settles on, “What are you an Kettle?”

  I know my cheeks are pink. My eyes moisten. My heart pounds at the rate of her frantic bobbing. “I’m not really sure.”

  She puts up her finger. “I tink I know.”

  “You do?” I lean in, placing too much stock in her thoughts on the matter.

  “You’re like with tha diamond ring… What’s the word? Be-troffed.”

  I giggle, wishing she was right. “You mean betrothed?”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “Dat’s what I said. Be-troffed.”

  I shake my head sadly. “We are not betrothed, Frankie.” Pulling her into my lap, I whisper so the boys can’t hear me. “I wish we were, but we’re not.”

  Unwilling to concede, she just frowns and sets her chin determinedly. “Well, you’re about to be. Or close to bein’”

  I hope she’s right. But I’m not sure. He said no. And he seemed pretty set about it.

  “Well, I guess you could say we’re dating…” Does it count if the date hasn’t even happened yet? Nervousness starts to pound up, up, up my throat. “Is there anything else you want to ask me?” I say, trying to sweep the conversation to the left.

  She tips her head up, her neck twisting to find my eyes. “Hmm…” She taps her chin. Then her voice changes, grows younger and softer. “Are we ever gonna go home?”

  “I really don’t know. It’s very complicated. If Daddy is there, we can’t go back. We can’t trust him. Do you understand?”

  She nods. “But we can go home if Daddy’s not there?”

  How do I tell her that will never happen?

  “We might just have to find a new home…” I say loudly without meaning to. My chin resting over her shoulder.

  Kelpie’s eyes round, and he looks upset. “You’re gonna leave us?” he asks.

  My eyes sweep the room. The boys doing their chores. Having their small conversations. The miraculous way they’ve learned to survive. They’ve each earned a place in my heart, and it hurts to think of leaving them behind. Hiro’s conflict opens like a broken window in a dark, dark room.

  Leaving this life would be impossible. It has to come with us, and that’s where the biggest problem lies.

  Kelpie still stares at me, waiting for an answer. I muss his curls. “I could never leave you, Kelpie!” Not sure if I’m lying or not. If I am, it’s a lie I desperately want to believe.

  I pull on my coat, patting my pocket full of cash.

  First things first. I need to go to the grocery store with Krow.

  Krow is not one for conversation. He slumps into his pockets, head down, eyes on his feet. He seems nervous and completely put out by my presence at the same time. “So how long have you known Kettle?” I ask as the subway car sways around a corner and all the passengers lean to the right.

  Frankie clings to my leg, looking ridiculous with a frilly dress and a baseball cap on. I need to keep her face hidden. I haven’t seen anything in the papers, but I can’t risk her being seen. My own head is wrapped in a scarf. Krow shrugs and mutters, “A while.”

  I roll my eyes. This is harder than pulling teeth. “Do you like working at D’Ogossini’s?”

  “S’all right.” He barely opens his mouth when he speaks. Like words are precious mouthfuls of food.

  I give up.

  I follow him out of the subway, Frankie tripping over her skirts as we climb up and out into the bitter cold. Krow kicks a lump of snow aggressively just like Hiro did. I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. Winter is the enemy to these kids. He huddles down in his jacket, gesturing for us to cross the road.

  Snow makes it harder to hide, to blend in. We all stand out like black shoes on a white tile floor. We look suspicious. I just know it. I watch women filing into the store. Mostly maids and nannies. They walk and look a certain way. In a hurry. Plain. Hair pulled tightly back. Minimal make up. I stop at the front to fix my hair and tighten the scarf. Bending down to Frankie, I whisper, “Call me Miss Kite in there, okay?”

  She nods. “Miss Kite, okay Nor-ah.” I sigh. This might be difficult.

  I squeeze her hand. “Just pretend I’m Marie or Miss Candace. Don’t treat me like your sister.”

  She grins. “I love pretendin’ games!” She salutes me, and Krow groans loudly.

  He opens the door, surprising me by letting me go in first. I smile graciously and lead Frankie in, my eyes on the checkered floor.

  “Davey!” a man exclaims, walking over to clap Krow on the back. Davey? I arch an eyebrow. Frankie giggles.

  Krow straightens and smiles, smoothing his hair back self-consciously. “Uh, hi Mr. Jones.” It flops back over his eye.

  Mr. Jones smiles broadly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “You’re not supposed to be working today, are you?” He wipes his hands on his apron, then gazes down at Frankie. “And who’s this little one?” He takes a step toward her and she steps back, pressing into my skirt. It’s heartbreaking to see how she reacts to men in the world. Like every last one is dangerous. Though sadly, it’s probably the smartest way to behave.

  Krow shakes his head. “No, sir. Just wonderin’ if I can use my employee discount today. Our mom’s been awful busy, and she asked me to pick up some things…”

  He waves at Krow, still trying to catch Frankie’s eyes from beneath the cap. “Yes, of course, of course.” His eyebrows rise as some memory wakes in him. He points at her. “You look familiar…” he says, and I wonder if I missed something in the papers. If he recognizes her because my father has reported her missing.

  I feel Krow’s hand reassuringly at my back and I know he’s getting ready to run, to fight our way out if need be. This touch makes me want to curl around it. It’s so precious, so fierce, I almost feel like I’ll choke on a cry right here in front of Mr. Jones. Because I know. Without a doubt. Without any fear. Any reservations. That even though he is careful with his words. And he looks at me like I’m foreign and hard to understand. Krow is family. He views me as such. He would help me. He would lose his job for me. He is a King. And so are we.

  It adds steel to my frame and strength to my fading in and out heart.

  Frankie turns her face to my skirt, burying herself and poking me with the brim of her cap. Mr. Jones chuckles. “A little shy, huh? I was just going to say you look just like my niece, Lucy. She has that same fire-red hair.”

  Krow and I collectively sigh with relief. “Sorry, sir. She’s just a little tired and cold. She not usually this shy.” I stroke Frankie’s hair gently and slip the cap from her head.

  Mr. Jones gives me a kind nod and turns, talking loudly, “I know just the thing to cure tiredness and coldness!” He reaches into a large jar and produces a lollipop, then he taps it gently on the back of Frankie’s head. She spins around, eyes sugar hungry, and licks her lips. “Tanks!” she says, snatching the candy from the man’s hairy hand.

  Krow grabs a trolley. “We better get started. Right, sis?” I nod, and we head down an aisle.

  The moment we’re out of sight, Krow returns to his normal self. A thin sketch of silence and suspicion. But he shadows me. He walks beside me. Watchful and guarding while Frankie bites down noisily on her lollipop, making my teeth hurt with all the crunching.

  We carefully pick through the shelves. Trying to stretch our money as far as it will go. Choosing close to expired food, canned goods, and things that don’t need refrigeration. Things that can keep for a long time. We also buy soap. Toothpaste. Batteries for Frankie’s hearing aid. I surreptitiously slip a
box of sanitary pads in the trolley. If Krow sees, he doesn’t draw attention to it.

  Frankie asks for everything we can’t buy—cereal, chocolate bars—and I find myself mindlessly saying no to her every five seconds like a harried housewife. I’m so focused on my task that I don’t notice Marie until Frankie has her arms wrapped around the round woman’s waist. I swallow horror and fear. I try to pretend that everything’s okay. But I give Krow a quick look to split. He understands and takes the trolley, wheeling it away from us.

  “Miss Nora! Miss Frankie!” Marie exclaims, and I’m reminded of how much I loathe her panicky voice. Because it’s the voice of someone who knows everything. But has never said anything. She shuffles closer, acting like eyes are on her. “Where have you been?” she whispers. “Your father is suffering awful much in your absence.”

  I clench my fists. Counting slowly in my head. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, forcing my tone to be even. Unfeeling. But I know it’s not working. I sound like I’m about to slit her throat. Anger is getting the better of me. But she knows. She knows. She knows.

  How can she stand here and pretend he deserves our pity? It is beyond my understanding. I know I can’t stay here. I can’t talk to her. “Miss Nora? Are you quite all right?” It’s such a stupid question.

  Yanking Frankie from her grasp, I connect with Marie’s eyes. Her raisin-sized eyes that have witnessed so much violence. I know now that silence can be deadly. Her silence could have killed me. I shove Frankie behind me, then whisper terse, punched-out words, “You did not see us. You hear me, Marie? Do this one thing for me. Then, maybe one day, I can forgive every time you turned your back when he struck me. Every time you washed my bloodstained clothes without batting an eyelid.” My voice is strong. Detached.