Darcy knocks on her door. “Check this out, yo. Does it make me look fat?” Her girth bulges beneath the tank top.
“No.”
“Sometimes skinny fits make me look thinner. Whassup wich you, girl? Awks, you need a smaller size. It should fit tighter.”
“I don’t want it tighter.”
“H, it’s hanging off you. It looks retarded. Woman, you dress like that and I’m leaving you by the highway. Try extra small.”
The extra small pale blue tank top reveals the outlines of Harriet’s nipples.
Darcy shakes her head, making tsk sounds. “It’s time you got a bra, dawg. You wear that with a decent bra and a pair of skinny jeans, you’ll have serious street cred.”
LaSenza Girl is having a buy-two-bras-get-one-free sale. Darcy hands Harriet a bra with leopard spots, trimmed with pink lace. “If we each buy one, I get one free. Try it on, girl.”
“I don’t have money for a bra.”
“What about all that canine cash?”
“I haven’t walked her dog this week.”
Dee pushes her into a changeroom. “FYI, I saw Clayton the mutant walking it.”
Clayton lives on the ground floor with his obese mother and their ferret. Mrs. Rumph lolls in a lawn chair in front of the building and lets the ferret crawl all over her. Clayton listens to rap so loud Harriet can hear it coming out of his earbuds, and wears baggy jeans halfway off his ass, plus a snap-back with the brim turned sideways.
“I guess that’s why the old bag hasn’t called you,” Dee says. “You’ve been out-sourced. A low blow, girl.”
“I shouldn’t have asked for more money.”
“Oh yes you should have, girlfriend, you’re no Third-Worlder. She can eat it.”
“I don’t have any income though.”
“You’ve got your senior lobby racket. Those sacks of shit depend on you. How’s the bra?”
The leopard-spotted bra makes Harriet look as though she has breasts. She tries some Lady Gaga moves, swivelling her hips and twitching her shoulders. “It’s okay. How’s yours?”
“Sexyfine. Let’s buy’em. Buck will lend us the dough.”
“I don’t want to spend ten bucks on a bra.”
“Let me see it.” Darcy pushes at the door. Harriet opens it. Darcy whistles. “You look shit hot, chiquita. This is your supernova moment, seriously, you’ve got to buy it. Dad never makes me pay him back anyway because he wants Mom to think he’s loaded.”
Buck is leaning on the cash desk chatting up a salesgirl. “You could be a supermodel. I kid you not.”
“Pops? We need you to pay for these.”
“Anything for you, princess.”
With the red dye wearing off, colours fade and the Mexicans retreat. Harriet can’t understand why being invited out by Darcy and Buck is so important to her. It must be because she enjoys blending with the crowd. When she goes out with her family, people stare. Nobody looks twice at Buck and Dee. She’d like to have Buck for a dad, even though he thinks with his dick, because at least he pays for stuff and doesn’t fuss about computer time or junk food.
“So, goils, are you ready for some grub?”
“Preach it, daddy-o.” Darcy gives two thumbs-up. “Let’s dip outta here. I’m in a chicken teriyaki state of mind.”
Both Darcy and Buck are adept with chopsticks but Harriet fumbles, longing for a fork.
“So, princess, is Nina seeing anybody?”
“Like I would tell you that.”
“We’re best buds, you tell me everything. How am I supposed to get in the good books with her if you don’t give me inside info?”
“These are the questions that haunt me.” Darcy expertly chopsticks chicken.
“Seriously, Dee, don’t you want Mom and me to get back together?”
“She thinks you’re a dick. There’s no way she’s getting back together with you.”
Buck picks at the label on his beer bottle.
“Maybe you could date my mother,” Harriet suggests, astonished that she hadn’t thought of this before. “She still looks good in a bikini.”
Darcy shakes her head and wags her chopsticks. “Your mother’s with that derp.”
“She’s only with him because he says he won’t leave. If Buck meets her and says he won’t leave either, she might boot out the derp. You’re way better looking than him.”
“Which isn’t saying much,” Dee says. “And she’s got a retarded brother. Like, really retarded.”
“He’s not retarded, just slow with buttons and stuff.”
“Seems legit.”
“He’s not retarded,” Harriet insists. “He goes to regular school.” Last week Lynne asked Harriet to teach him some spelling. He spelled everybody evry buddy. Harriet didn’t have the heart to correct him because in his world everybody is a buddy.
“Gee wow, like he can’t even tie his shoes.”
More noodles slip from Harriet’s chopsticks. “Lots of five-year-olds can’t tie shoes.”
“Why are you defending him? You hate his guts.”
Buck grips a piece of sushi. “Hey, take it easy. It’s not like I’m available.”
“Of course you’re available. Mom wants you the fuck out of her life.”
He drops the sushi. “She said that?”
“That’s all she ever talks about, how Buck fucked her over.”
“Now that’s not fair, I’ve totally changed.”
“Cool story, bro.”
“I learned my lesson, Dee. I want to be with you guys.”
“Then how come you’re chasing tail?”
“Since when am I chasing tail?”
“Duh, like, since everywhere we go.”
“No way.”
“I have a witness. H, is he or is he not all over every hottie in groping distance?”
Harriet has been caught in divorce crossfire before. There is no winning at this game. She shrugs as a bean sprout slips from her chopsticks.
“Seriously, Dee, like when was I all over some hottie?”
“Gee wow, let me think, how ’bout at every store we’ve been to.”
“You mean with the salesgirls? We were just talking.”
“Well, it’s your ‘just talking’ that makes Mom want to rip your nuts off.”
Back at the Shangrila, two policemen push Mindy’s crackhead husband into a cruiser. Mr. Shotlander and Mr. Chubak shake their heads and resume playing checkers. “Jump you and jump you again,” Mr. Chubak says.
“No fair. I was distracted by the crackhead.” Mr. Shotlander squints hard at the board. “I’m red, right?”
In the elevator, Dee says, “Anybody who tells Mom what I ate is a dead man.”
Mindy’s seeking refuge at Nina’s. They’re both drinking spritzers.
“If I could kill the fucker, I would,” Mindy says. “I’d blow his fucking brains out.” Nina pours more wine. Buck sets Darcy’s purchases on the table. “Anything I can do to help?”
Nina flicks her mad-nice red hair out of her face. “What could you possibly do to help?” Already Buck is eyeing Mindy, whose breasts are pushed up in a bra like the one Darcy forced Harriet to buy.
“So what’s the story, Min?” Dee asks. “How come Romeo didn’t give you a black eye this time?”
“Is that nice?” Buck says.
Dee checks the fridge for carbs. “The whole building’s going to be talking about it, might as well get the facts straight. Did you try the move I showed you?” Darcy has been practising self-defence moves she learned online.
Mindy wipes smeared eyeliner off her cheeks. “I didn’t get a chance, it all happened so fast.”
“That’s where they get ya,” Darcy says. “You’ve got to be ready.” She holds her hands up and bends her knees in a demonstration of readine
ss. “Rock ’em and sock ’em.”
Buck sits next to Mindy, resting his arm across the back of her chair.
“Buck,” Nina says, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“Buck, get the fuck out.”
“When are you going to get through this anger stuff?”
“Not in your lifetime. Fuck off. I mean it. Now.” And he does and Harriet admires Nina’s ball-busting powers. She wishes Lynne was a ball buster and not a hottie who settles for a derp because he won’t leave. Darcy jerks her thumb at her bedroom. “H, let’s investigate this further in the situation room.”
Harriet follows. “Investigate what?”
Darcy pulls out her Ouija board, sets it on the Barbie table and places her right hand on the pointer. “Come on, woman, let’s do this thing.”
“What thing?” When Harriet told Mr. Rivera about Darcy’s Ouija board, his eyes widened and he warned her that it might release evil spirits. “If multo tells you to come,” he said, “don’t go. Even if it says if you don’t, you will be possessed by the devil.” Last time Darcy and Harriet did Ouija, it took all afternoon for the pointer to spell A part of you will change. For a week Harriet kept checking to see if a part of her had changed. When she told Darcy no part of her had changed Dee said, “Duh, genius, it doesn’t have to be on the outside. It could be on the inside. Like, you could be growing a tumour or something.”
“Do you have anything red I can wear?” Harriet asks.
“Say what?”
“I’m not doing it unless I can wear red. Mr. Rivera says red wards off evil spirits.”
“Hell’s bells.” Darcy tosses a pair of red shorts at Harriet. She slides them over her jeans.
“Now concentrate,” Darcy orders, switching the lights off. “Hand on pointer. No talking till we make contact.”
Mindy and Nina, livened by spritzers, can be heard through the wall discussing how they’d like to watch their exes die. “Electrocution, totally,” Nina says. “Real slo-ow. Starting with his balls.” They shriek with spooky laughter.
Dee closes her eyes with her hands on the Ouija. “Is anybody there? Is there anybody in the room with us?” The pointer shifts slightly, pointing towards Hello on the board.
“Touchdown,” Darcy says. “So glad you could make it, dear sir or madam. May I ask to whom I am speaking? Are you by any chance related to Harriet?”
“Why does it have to be related to me?”
“Shh . . . I feel it moving.” The pointer points towards Yes.
“Bam,” Darcy says.
“You’re moving it.”
“No way. Like I really want to ask questions I have to answer myself.” She closes her eyes again. “If you are a madam, would you by any chance be Harriet’s dead grandmother?”
“Both my grandmothers are alive.”
“Oops, scratch that, what about your grandfathers?”
“One of them’s dead.”
“What was his name?”
“Archie.”
“Sir, would you by any chance be Archie?” The pointer indicates Yes.
“Touchdown,” Darcy says. “Now we’re cookin’. So, Archie, what do you want to tell us, sir? Do you have a message for Harriet?” The pointer indicates Yes and Harriet feels herself tightening because she misses Grandpa Archie. He taught her how to pick locks and lent her his staple gun even after Lynne forbade her from using it.
“Archie,” Darcy says, “I’m going to cut to the chase here and ask if Harriet’s little brother is going to kick it.”
“Don’t ask him that.”
“Why not? Don’t you want to know? I would. Archie, are you there? Don’t be afraid to spill the beans, dude, we can take it. Is Irwin going to die?”
“Everybody dies,” Harriet says.
“Okay, let me rephrase that. Arch, is her little brother going to, like, check out this week?”
Nina and Mindy are singing “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” really loudly.
The pointer indicates Yes. Darcy gasps.
“You moved it.”
“Like why would I do that?”
“To scare me.”
“Get serious. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
“So do I.” Harriet pushes the board away and heads for the door.
“Take it easy, H.”
“Nothing’s easy. Ever.”
She takes the elevator to the lobby to see if she can make escape money. Mr. Hoogstra, who owned a yacht once and still wears a grubby captain’s hat, points at his teeth. “Food gets stuck in the gums. I take a toothpick on dates so I can dig ’em out. Chicken’s the worst.”
Mr. Shotlander tugs up his polyester trousers. “Since when have you had a date?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Mr. Hoogstra tips his hat at Harriet. Mr. Tumicelli’s cell rings “Feliz Navidad ” even though he changed his number to stop people calling for car repairs. He pulls it out of his black overcoat and wheezes into it in Italian, except for car-part words like struts.
Mr. Shotlander digs his finger in his ear. “Harry, just the person I want to see. I got hacked again.” He always thinks he’s being hacked. “What’s with the red shorts? You going to clown school?”
Harriet forgot she had on Darcy’s shorts.
“It’s all the rage in Paris.” Mr. Chubak scratches his bald spot. “Everybody’s wearing them.”
“Now that’s a Kodak moment,” Mr. Hoogstra says.
Harriet pulls off the shorts and stuffs them behind the dusty plastic palm. “Does anybody need something from Mr. Hung’s?”
Mr. Shotlander trails her. “Harry, this is serious business, I can’t get my emails. My son sent me an email two days ago and I didn’t get it.”
“That doesn’t mean you were hacked.”
“What’s it mean then? I can’t get into the goddang account. Some hacker’s messing with me.”
“Were you using the right password?” He forgets his passwords.
“Of course I was using the right password. I need you to open me a new account.”
Harriet usually charges the seniors a loonie to help with their computers but it’s time for a raise. “Only if you pay me a toonie.”
“For the love of Mike, what are you, some kind of IT expert all of a sudden?”
“I’ve got expenses. Last call for Mr. Hung’s.”
“I could use a treat.” Mr. Chubak digs around in his corduroys. “See if he’s got some Raspberry Devil.”
Mr. Hoogstra hands her a five. “A carton of 2%. Check the date. The last one you bought was two days past the best before.”
“That was the only 2% he had.”
“That Chinaman is always selling rotten goods,” Mr. Shotlander says.
“What do you mean ‘always’?” Harriet demands. “When has he sold you something rotten?”
“Why are you so pro-commie all of a sudden?”
“You try working sixteen-hour days, 24/7.”
“God dammit,” Mr. Hoogstra says. “I got something in my eye.”
“Use your finger to get it out,” Mr. Shotlander advises.
“It’s like somebody poured acid in it,” Mr. Hoogstra says. “Dammit and dammit again.”
Mr. Chubak starts peeling an orange. “Try pulling your upper lid over your lower.”
Mr. Shotlander tramps over to Mr. Hoogstra with his dirty fingers. “Let’s have a look.”
Harriet speeds to Mr. Hung’s, thinking she never asked for any of this.
Ten
After her deliveries, she counts her profits in the elevator and stuffs them in her pocket, where Gennedy can’t see them. He’ll be angry because she’s late for dinner. She hears Mrs. Butts’ cane tapping behind her in the corridor.
&nb
sp; “Harriet, dear, could you do something for me?” Mrs. Butts has the pickled stare she gets on painkillers. “It’ll only take a minute.”
Harriet, hoping there’s money in it, follows the old lady into her apartment. “My back’s bad. I don’t know what I did, but I can’t lift the litter box. Would you be a dear and empty it for me and pour in some fresh. I ordered the large bag because it’s cheaper but I had no idea it would be so heavy. They should have told me it was so heavy when I ordered it. I’m a regular customer, they should know better, they know I’m not well.”
“If you pay me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need money for a trip and Mrs. Schidt has hired another dog walker.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because I asked for a raise. She’s been paying me fourteen dollars a week for three years. That doesn’t even cover inflation.” Lynne used to say this about the raises she got from the bank.
“But Harriet, you’re a child.”
“I’m being exploited.” Lynne also said this.
“My, my. All right then, I’ll pay you a quarter.”
“Fifty cents.”
“Fine, fine. I don’t know what’s got into you. Sometimes you can be so disagreeable.” She leads Harriet to the litter box. “Lukey bit me. Look.” She pulls up the sleeve of her food-stained cardigan. “Do you see that? Toothmarks. Thank goodness I’ve had my shots.” Lukey winds around her legs. “You’re a bad cat, yes you are, a bad cat. And Lindy’s breath smells funny. I think that’s why she’s stopped eating. I felt her neck and tummy and there’s some swelling. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Lindy.” Lukey sharpens his claws on the furniture. “Shoo.” Mrs. Butts waves her cane at him. “Stop that! Bad cat.”
Mr. Shotlander calls Mrs. Butts “Misery” behind her back. “Here comes Misery,” he’ll mutter when Mrs. Butts comes tapping through the front doors. All the seniors avoid her monologues about her imagined ailments and her cats. Mr. Hoogstra says an overdose would be a merciful end for Mrs. Butts. At Seniors’ Reading Night, where Harriet serves beverages for fifty cents a glass, Mr. Chubak read from an ancient Greek play. Harriet liked some of the words and wrote them down for a mixed-media project:
On the Shores of Darkness, There is Light Page 11
