Swimming in Sparkles

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Swimming in Sparkles Page 5

by Debra Anastasia


  I sat back down on the floor, instead of the bed or the comfortable looking desk chair. I wanted to feel like myself. Comfort was not part of what made my day work.

  The last time I was caught and arrested, my assigned social worker was able to get the judge to give me community hours and no jail time. When I was released, Mom was there with some of my crew and some of the elders of the woods community. They had a few balloons and Mom was holding up a handmade sign on cardboard that read

  CONGRATS ON YOUR FIRST ARREST!

  She was the first to reach me, wrapping her arms around me. “Great job, Ruffian. I’m so proud.”

  Back slapping and high-fives. I watched as two cops rolled their eyes as they walked past us. They didn’t love this.

  I leaned in close to Shade. “They get everything?”

  Shade broke into a rare smile, two gold teeth in the front. “Yeah. Delivery is all set for tonight. We’re going to have a bonfire.”

  I finally relaxed for the first time in hours. I was the distraction. The scapegoat. And so far, the plan had worked.

  We all walked back to the camp, laughing on the way. I didn’t tell them that this past time was much more real. I was known for getting off scot-free, talking my way out of consequences. This time I had a mugshot. I had time in the jail. I felt how the culture of the bars changed what we did. Made it real. Knowing there could be consequences and feeling them were two different things.

  We walked single file when we got to the woods, and I could hear the kids playing just beyond the fringe of evergreen trees.

  I turned to Shade again. “Did you pass them out?”

  “Nah, we just got the truck a little bit ago. It broke down again. Come on, let’s watch.” He walked a bit faster than I did and got to the beat-up pickup truck that had been a lifesaver more than a few times for the group of us. Mom had secured it, and Shade and his brother Herc had kept it moving with their hillbilly know-how.

  A couple of the Conner kids hugged me around my middle when they spotted me.

  “Ruff, did you die in prison?” Kenny’s wide brown eyes studied me sadly.

  “No, my dude. I made it out alive. You guys excited to pick your clothes out?”

  The bonfire was all set and Shade left me to tend to it. Tonight was going to be a good one. We’d raided a huge truck outside the strip mall that had been placed there to hold the Black Friday sales.

  It was my biggest find yet. I was able to pick the lock and we got loads and loads of clothes, electronics, and even a few toys. Everyone was getting in on the haul. When we were almost done with the last batch in the old truck, our luck had run out. I stayed to distract the cops as the guys pulled away with the stash.

  I’d taken it too far. They had both wanted to abandon the truck after the first two loads. But I knew it was a day maker. Maybe even a month maker for our community in the woods. And we’d hit on some camping supplies, so I knew it was time to take my second arrest. I ran, but not fast and not far. I was bait. The quicker catch instead of the cops following the truck.

  Hence, the reason I was getting my first arrest party. I’d dealt with the cops before, of course. But this had been my first mugshot and overnight stay.

  The hefty bags full of bounty were pulled from the back of the truck and piled with the others. It was like a group Christmas and everyone was in a jovial mood while waiting to see what we’d gotten. Herc waved until Shade had the fire really thriving before he sliced into the first bag with his pocketknife.

  Mom was right there to make sure things were divided fairly. She somehow ruled over the unrulable in the best way. She could suggest something, and the next thing the person knew, they were doing just what she thought was right. The kids each got three toys, a warm coat, and a new sleeping bag.

  Kenny pulled the tag from the armpit in the coat and looked at me with fear. “I can do this, right? Take off the tag?”

  I nodded. “Yes, my man. It’s all yours.”

  I hopped onto the first bough of one of the trees that surrounded the campsite. I watched from my perch as everyone approached the bags of stuff. The old women laughed and the older men tucked their hands into their pockets and let out good-natured teasing. This was what I lived for. Seeing these people get stuff.

  Mom was under my branch, switching to observing instead of helping sort.

  “You did good, Ruff.” She tapped my shoe with her hand.

  I nodded.

  “Okay. So what did you do wrong?” She tilted her head and leveled me with a stare.

  We would break it down now. How I could improve.

  “I pushed it too far. I wanted to get it all for them, you know? There was so much there.” I rubbed a knuckle on my jeans.

  “So you had the gut instinct to leave and you ignored it?” She pulled her hair over her shoulder.

  “I did,” I acknowledged. I knew when I should have left. I was bargaining my youth with the number of times I’d been caught. “But look at them. Just look.”

  The community that we all were loosely a part of was happy, preening in their new clothes. “The world pretends we’re not here. We’re not cold. They’re not suffering.” I gestured to the whole area. “But we know they are. And we know how to fix it.”

  One of the Conner kids was hugging a stuffed octopus and petting it like a pet. I was melting in my heart for her. “Cindy gets nothing. Nothing. And today? She got three things.”

  My mom patted my shoe. “Come down. I don’t want to get a crick in my neck.”

  I swallowed hard and listened to her. It wasn’t a crick in her neck, and we both knew it. When I was on level ground with her, she pushed my floppy hair out of my face. “I did such a great job with you. I see who you are. The soul of the most generous guy. I knew you were special. But the rest of the world? They don’t know that by sight. They will judge you by pieces of papers and tickets and numbers. And that’s what I want you to focus on. Because our community would have been just as happy with a smaller haul. And you wouldn’t have had your first mugshot. They need you, Ruffian. They need someone that gives them hope. And that’s you.”

  She patted my cheek. She didn’t say the rest, but I saw it in her eyes. She wouldn’t always be here to help smooth it all out. Some kids had their parents groom them for taking over a business. Not mine. I was groomed to make sure I was thinking about the least of us. Whoever was the most hurt. The coldest. That’s what we did because it was right. It made something happen in my chest that I was addicted to. Fixing stuff. Breaking into places to bring stuff back here or wherever we were camping for the week.

  I jumped into dumpsters for tossed food that was perfectly good. No one had gotten a chance to ponder how they would make the bread into a meal before it was tossed in its untouched plastic packaging.

  So yeah, I’d been chased out of dumpsters. I’d had to hustle away from open trucks and pallets full of merchandise but not before I got what we needed.

  I’d dip into some of the expensive vacation houses and raid their medicine cabinets for leftover antibiotics.

  It was us versus them. The people who had and tossed and the people who needed and hoped to gather their castoffs.

  I was angrier now. I was taller and I had a smart mouth and I knew how the world worked. And I wasn’t a fan. Sure, Mom taught me a lot of it, but tons of it I had learned on my own. Watching Vic get chased out of a local eatery because he couldn’t stop talking about his time in the Army. Seeing assholes throw stuff at Glenda because she had the audacity to panhandle near the expensive parts of town.

  I grew up hating the haves and wanting to protect the have-nots. I got good at picking locks—Mom taught me. She had a weird arrow-shaped hairpin that had switchblade-like functions. It could open about eighty percent of locks. It became my tool. Second nature to have it hidden on my body somewhere. Tucked into my hair, slid into a pocket, hanging off a belt loop. It could make me a superhero to these people. These good people. Sure, they had problems, but they w
ere cold sometimes. Hungry sometimes.

  Tonight was a great haul. Everybody would be a little warmer, and that made the price I had to pay worth it. No one that would ever matter to me would care about an arrest record. Of that I was sure.

  I sat back on the bed and lay back, waiting for Teddi and her parents to return. I had a gut feeling that I was the reason they had left so secretly. Taking on Gaze and taking on me were two different events. He was calm and I was the storm. I was willing to start whatever trouble it would take to keep my people, my friends, in the comfort they deserved.

  Chapter 11

  TEDDI

  MOM AND DAD said they were having an emergency phone meeting with Gaze’s previous social worker, Ms. Josephine, to see what they needed to do about Ruffian. We were committed as a family to finding out what the hell had gone on that had gotten Ruffian in so much trouble.

  As they went upstairs to their room for the privacy of the conversation, I slipped downstairs out of curiosity. Ruffian’s door was slightly ajar. While I knocked on it gently, it swung open a little wider.

  He was on the bed, arms behind his head. His jeans were slung low and his motorcycle boots were untied. He lazily turned his head toward mine and smiled.

  “You were out early.” He absentmindedly pushed his hair off his forehead. “ Two a.m. Fudgsicles don’t keep you down.”

  There was a little bit of anger in his eyes and then with a blink it was gone. Like maybe I was wrong. The way the light was hitting his eyes seemed to change how I perceived them.

  “My parents needed me to come with them.” I was still hovering in his doorway. It was early. I mean, he’d obviously gotten up and made his bed before I got here. But maybe he was hoping to catch a little nap.

  “I have to go into town this afternoon. Think that’s possible?” He sat up and the small swatch of his toned stomach was covered.

  I shrugged. I had a few Zoom meetings with potential clients, but that wasn’t until the afternoon. “I could take you. When do you want to leave?” I pulled out my phone. Ten forty-five a.m.

  “That’s service. I get to just pick anything?” He began digging around in his backpack. I noticed the strap was wrapped around his calf.

  “I mean, you’re the one that asked, so yeah.” After pulling out a fresh t-shirt, he stood. “The appointment I have is sort of fluid timewise.” He pulled his shirt off and started folding it. I watched but then put my gaze to the floor. Not before seeing that he was fit. Maybe too fit, like he was a little hungry kind of fit.

  “I’m done.” I could tell he was smirking from the tone of his voice. And I was right. He added an eyebrow lift when we finally made eye contact. I felt the zing hit me. He was one of those kinds of people. Handsome, but the attitude he projected made him really, really appealing. Dynamic.

  I cleared my throat. “My parents have a few meetings about you today. And a few phone calls to get you set up. So if you want to go now-ish, you could be back if they have any questions.” I suddenly had nowhere to put my hands. My hips? No. Under my armpits? No. I had never thought about my hands this much in my entire life. How did they do things at all without me thinking about them? My mouth was dry.

  Ruffian’s eyes were sparkling. “You all right there?”

  “Yeah.” I needed to get away from him for a few minutes and figure out how my hands worked. “Let me get changed. I’ll meet you in the driveway.” I almost walked into the wall but saved myself at the last second.

  I took the stairs two at a time until I was back in my bedroom. Looking in the mirror, I could see my cheeks were flushed. My hands were still dancing all around like they were puppets or something. I grabbed one hand with the other.

  Austin wandered into my room and watched me holding my hands together like I was about to sing in a fancy chorus.

  “What’s going on, pretty?” He was eating yogurt with a spoon and had a pair of sunglasses on in the house.

  I looked at the ceiling. “Nothing. I just have to get dressed and take Ruffian somewhere.” I looked to my left and to my right before seeing my brother smile around the spoon in his mouth. Then he inched the sunglasses down to the end of his nose with his index finger. He had a ton of jokes loaded, and his eyes crinkled up at the sides.

  “Just no. Don’t. I need to get dressed. Help me.” I motioned to my closet with a limp hand. At least it could do that.

  Austin pushed his sunglasses into his hair. Most girls would not ask their brother to help them dress, but Austin had such a flair I’d be stupid not to use his talents. His social media was ridiculous. All his posts got more likes and comments than even some celebrities.

  “Do your face. Light makeup and a pony. Small hoop earrings and the perfume I gave you last year.” He set down his yogurt and spoon on my dresser.

  While I went into my bathroom, I heard Austin asking his phone to give him the weather for the day. He would gear my outfit to that. I put on a coat of mascara and brushed my hair into a ponytail, a big soft hair tie securing it.

  When I came out, Ausin was sitting on my bed, one leg crossed over the other. “Good work.”

  He was assessing my makeup, so it was good that I passed. Sometimes I went a little heavy, because for cheer you really had to amp it up. Red lips, too much blush, and fancy eye makeup. Well, leftover cheer tendencies. I still hung out with them, but I couldn’t do the team and the Me Parties.

  He had jeans and a crop top with a light scarf laid out. There was jewelry, too.

  He covered his eyes with the spoon and the yogurt while I slipped into the clothes he’d selected.

  “I’m done,” I told him and looked in my full-length mirror. It was cute. I would never have put this top with this scarf, but it was stylish and yet not looking like I was trying too hard.

  “Okay. Put this one on. I got these samples from a company that wants to advertise with me.” He set the yogurt and spoon down again then he handed me two rings. One went on my thumb and the other went on my index finger. Then he added a chain around my waist that sparkled in the light.

  He nodded. “You’re ready. You’re welcome.”

  I gave him a hug as he tossed the yogurt container into my trash can.

  “Thanks.” I found my purse as he waved the spoon in my direction like a magic wand.

  “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, bitch.” He held out his hand and I took it.

  “Can I take your car? Please?” I hugged Austin’s arm. His ride was freaking sweet. He had an older Mercedes 190 E Class, in red.

  “I’m your fairy godmother and the mouse in this makeover?” He dug into the pocket of his tight jeans and held out his keys.

  “Well, I think you would be the actual pumpkin? Like, transportation, baby.” I opened the front door.

  “Be careful. Don’t speed, Little Miss Lead Foot.”

  I went to slide on my sneakers and he shook his head, giving me a last bit of fashion advice. I went to my embroidered flats and he nodded, so I wore those instead.

  I kissed Austin on the cheek and went out the door.

  Ruffian was leaning against my parents’ SUV. He had his backpack, which occurred to me had everything he came with. Maybe that was where we were headed, to pick up more of his stuff? I reconsidered the minivan. Maybe it would be better to have the cargo space?

  “You wanna take that?” I pointed at the van. “Or that?” I motioned to Austin’s car.

  I figured I’d let him do the heavy lifting mentally about how much stuff he needed to bring back here.

  He looked over his shoulder at Austin’s Mercedes. “For sure, let’s take that.” He pushed off the van and headed in the car’s direction.

  I had taken Austin’s car a few times since I got my license and I loved it, but I was also aware that it had a lot of power under the hood. It was a bit intimidating to hit the gas, because it would roar to life.

  I did my best to stay mindful of that fact because Ruffian was scattering my cool. He put his bag on the floor and angled his lon
g legs around it.

  I clearly didn’t think this through because he was so close to me.

  “This is tight. Yours?” Ruffian ran his hands over the dashboard.

  “No. My brother’s. So you want to head into Midiville? Or Poughkeepsie?”

  “Midiville. And I can catch a ride back here later if things go late, if that’s cool?” He tilted his head to the side.

  “Sure.” I started the car and the motor purred. I had kind of assumed we would be leaving and coming back together. But I guess there were other ways to get home. Not easy ways. And it would involve a fair bit of walking.

  I turned on the radio and Austin’s playlist started. He had great taste in music, usually. Sometimes he dipped into EDM and I could only listen to so much of that before I needed a few lyrics.

  I rolled out backward, slinging my arm around his seat to see out the back window. Ruffian looked at me and we were just inches apart. He was taller and looking down at me. And that’s when I had my first Ruffian-related impulse. I wanted to lean up and kiss his lips. It didn’t even make any sense. It came from a place that made crazy decisions. Purple hair and cliff diving. As if he could feel my inner dilemma, his gaze dropped to my mouth and then back to my eyes. My breath caught until I forced myself to exhale.

  He winked at me. Just straight up winked.

  I laughed out loud at his confidence. “You got something in your eye?”

  “Just letting you window shop, you know?” He ran his hand through his hair and touched his tongue to his teeth.

  “You’re pretty full of yourself.” I knew I was blushing and refocused on my driving.

  “I just know what time it is, Teddi.”

 

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