by Sara Hosey
It wasn’t much of a trip though, because, as Corinne had said, the apartment was only a little ways from the park. When we got to the corner, Corinne told me the address. “It’s the second-floor apartment. You can tell from the street if there are any lights on.”
I handed her Angel’s leash and the two of them waited under the awning of the corner store. The subway rumbled overhead.
I skated down. The block was lined with attached houses, all the same style, painted different colors, all fading to the same ghostly pastel. The apartment was in a three-story house, a yellowish building with a peeling red fire escape on the front. Five steps up to the glass front door, seven doorbells. Second floor, all dark. I skated back to Corinne and nodded. I put the board under my arm and we approached the front door.
I was more nervous than I thought I’d be. There’s something about going into someone else’s home when they’re not there; it’s almost like when you’re a kid, playing hide-and-seek, the way it’s inevitable, even in the best hiding spot, that you’ll be found, that you’ll be made it eventually. But this wasn’t a game. This was for real and, from what Corinne had told me, Henry was not a guy we wanted to be messing with.
I must’ve looked pretty freaked out, because Corinne looked at me and frowned. “It’s my place too, Iffy. Don’t look so guilty.”
Then, as Corinne placed a foot on the first step, the door flung open and a woman emerged. We both jumped and Angel, who must’ve sensed our alarm, barked once at the woman, who glared and hurried off.
Corinne exhaled loudly and murmured a sarcastic, “Hello, neighbor,” and continued up the stairs. She handed me Angel’s leash, unlocked the front door, and swung it open, holding it until Angel and I had passed through. We waited in the vestibule as she opened the next set of doors. “We’ll be fast. Stop looking so worried!”
Even though it was an apartment building and it wouldn’t be suspicious to make normal noise, I still tread extra quietly and carefully as we jogged up the stairs. This is a bad idea, I thought to myself. What am I doing here? If anything, Corinne should’ve come alone. If we get busted, it will be all over for me. They’ll send me to jail. Or to foster care. Or home. I almost turned around and walked right back out, but then Corinne had the apartment door open and she was gesturing me inside.
As I came in behind her, she flicked on the light and groaned. “He woulda barked, if he was here. He’s not here, Iffy.”
I looked around, Angel sniffing the air, the carpet, the sofa arm.
It felt strange, as though I had walked in and got a glimpse of someone naked, like I was seeing something I wasn’t meant to see. The air was warm and stale, the inside of a closed car in the summertime, and the living room was a mess: pizza boxes and beer cans, overflowing ashtrays and clothes and boots and shoes. Henry clearly undressed as soon as he came in the house, threw whatever he was wearing right there on the floor in the entryway. You could probably excavate the layers to see what he had worn each day that week.
There were some nice things, too. My eyes kept returning to a framed print that said “MOMA” down one side. It was a picture of a woman’s brown face and she had the most wonderful unibrow I had ever seen and a little bit of a mustache too. It was hard to take my eyes off the picture, but I had a look around. There were bold-patterned curtains, a worn, vintage-y couch with what looked like velvet cushions and one of those round seventies chairs. The chair faced the television, which sat on a low table and was hooked up to a game system. The cords were strewn everywhere, like intestines spilled on the floor.
Corinne closed the door behind me and walked into another room. Me and Angel just stood there. My heart thumped in my chest. A fan spun slowly overhead, doing little to cool the hot, closed apartment.
I noticed another framed picture, hung high up on the wall: a black-and-white picture of Corinne and Henry, smiling broadly. Corinne didn’t have the braids; her hair was long and blond, and she looked beautiful.
“Don’t be totally horrified—it’s not usually this messy,” Corinne called from the other room. “He’s just a total slob.” She returned with a full duffel bag. “Lemme just check something else before we go,” she mumbled and disappeared into the kitchen, where I heard her opening and slamming drawers. “Let’s go.” She stepped back into the living room, scanning the floor, like she was trying to see if there was anything else she should take.
We caught each other’s eyes and her face relaxed and she laughed. “Oh my god, you should see yourself. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.”
“I might,” I said tightly.
“You want to take a shower or anything while we’re here?”
“Please, Corinne, can we just go?”
She slung the bag onto her shoulder. “I think I should like, take a poop on the bed or something first.”
I started toward the door and opened it.
“I’m just kidding,” she said, following me. “I bought those sheets anyway.”
I practically ran down the stairs, shoving open the doors and pulling Angel out after me. I was sweating, my shirt soaked through, and my head was pounding as we stepped from the hot building into the cool night air.
But before we reached the bottom of the steps, behind me, Corinne cursed under her breath.
“What is it?” I looked up, and there he was, just up the street. He strode quickly, too quickly, toward us.
“What the fuck is this?” he yelled.
We stood there, frozen on the steps. “Should we run?” I said, but Corinne was panic-stricken. She clutched the duffel.
But there was no time to run—suddenly he was there, screaming and pointing in her face while she kept repeating weakly, “I just needed some of my stuff,” her voice shaking. He backed Corinne into the step behind her and she almost fell down. He kept pointing his finger in her face and calling her all sorts of names. I stood, breathing out of my mouth, my eyes unfocused, my feet stuck.
“And who the fuck are you?” Henry turned his rage at me.
“Leave her alone!” Corinne’s voice was a little stronger this time. “Listen, I just needed a few of my things. I didn’t touch anything of yours.”
“You better not have—”
“But where’s Prince?” she put in, her voice high and pleading. “I want Prince back.”
“Get in the apartment,” Henry ordered.
“No!” Corinne tried to go past him and he kept stepping in front of her, blocking her from leaving.
“Get in the fucking apartment,” he yelled into her face, the way drill sergeants do in movies about marines.
People walking down the street were crossing to the other side to avoid us. Someone yelled a profanity out the window.
Henry grabbed Corinne’s arm. “Get inside,” he hissed.
She looked at me and then Henry did too.
“Don’t I know you?” He looked back at Corinne. “Who is she?”
“Nobody,” Corinne said. “Please, let me go. We’re just gonna go.” She was crying.
She turned away from him and he grabbed her by her hair.
I knew what this was. Just like when the creep tried to bother me at the campfire, I could imagine what was coming, what would happen next. He would drag her into the apartment. And then. And then. And then.
“Help,” I screamed. “Somebody call the police!”
“You shut up, you stay out of this,” Henry screamed at me. He hit me, hard, a backhand across the face. I dropped my board and fell to the ground. I was on my hands and knees, Angel’s leash under my left palm. She was crouched near the gutter, straining to get away, but also turning back to growl and snap at Henry.
I looked up. My skateboard was upside down, a few inches from my right hand. I left Angel’s leash, picked up the board and sprang into the air, using both hands to whale him with the board, wheels r
ight in the crotch.
The board flew from my hands, skittering down the street. I bent down and grabbed Angel’s leash and ran.
I didn’t look at him, I didn’t see his face or see whether or not he let go of Corinne, I just took off and Angel did too.
After a moment I was aware that Corinne was behind me and we ran, crossing streets wildly. After a block or two I looked back and I didn’t see him, but still, we kept running. Crossing one tricky intersection, I grabbed for Corinne’s free hand and we ran like that, me now holding Angel’s leash in one hand and Corinne with the other, until we were back in the park. Once we were in the woods, we slowed down, walking more carefully, watching for rocks and downed branches. My chest heaved, my lungs burned, and I wasn’t even a smoker.
Back at our camp, Corinne dropped the duffel bag and embraced me. She was crying, but she was laughing too. We just stayed like that for a while, not saying anything at all.
Then she pulled away and looked at me, her hands on my shoulders. “You lost your board,” she said.
I shrugged.
She hugged me again. “I’ll get you a new one someday.”
I didn’t say anything. She added, whispering into my ear, “That single hit to the nuts was something else, Iphigenia Murphy.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
Chapter 16
“Cut it out,” I objected, waving her hand away. “It’s not the first black eye I ever had. And it’s definitely not the worst.”
Corinne frowned. “That makes me feel even sadder, Iff.”
I tsked and rolled my eyes. “I’ll be fine.” I clicked the compact closed and handed it back to Corinne. It probably looked worse than it was. I didn’t tell Corinne, but what really hurt was my neck. It was sore from how it snapped back when he hit me. I had to move carefully, like my head was a glass of milk I was balancing. I’m trying not to spill myself, I thought.
It was morning and the crickets and the birds were all screaming, as though they could sense that the day would only get hotter and they’d better use up all their noise now. There was a low mist, making the whole park seem like some exotic place, like a rain forest or an enchanted fairy-tale land.
The mist will burn off soon though, I thought. It’ll be a good day to stay in the shade, take it easy and recuperate.
I sat on a tree stump. Corinne moved around.
“I’m really so sorry.” She was beginning to sound like a broken record.
“Please stop saying that. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s a little bit of a big deal.”
“I mean, sure. But whatever. I’m not upset.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“You look upset.”
I paused, thought. “Yup. He’s a jerk. You were right about that. He’s pretty scary.”
Corinne stopped pacing and nodded. “Yeah.”
“But I don’t know. I guess it was kind of … exciting?”
Corinne smiled widely. “It was, wasn’t it?”
I laughed a little.
“You were amazing,” she went on for the hundredth time. “Shoot. You are great in a pinch, huh? You are really are Saint Sneak—patron saint of the sneak attack. I am so glad you are on my side.”
I had been going over it again and again in my mind. How the skateboard felt in my hand, the noise he made when I made contact, my heart pounding in my ears as we ran. The whole thing had been terrifying, but also intense in an almost pleasurable way. And the best part was having someone who had been there, someone to talk about it with.
“I just wish I had seen his face.”
Corinne hooted. “He looked like his eyes were about to pop right out of his head!” She did an impression, grabbing her crotch and falling to the ground.
“Oh my god,” I laughed.
“I hope someone had, like, a camcorder and sends it to America’s Funniest Home Videos or something. They love those ball shots.”
I laughed. “It was a low blow. Literally.”
Corinne smirked but cycled back into concerned mode. “Your eye …” she began.
“I’m fine,” I groaned.
“Should we try to get some ice or something?”
“Puh-lease!” I took a swig of water.
She made a face, lit a cigarette. “Oh, Iffy.”
Angel, who had been sniffing around, returned, panting, and put her head in my lap. She looked up at me with those sweet, pretty eyes. “Hey, Ang,” I said, stroking her neck. “You’re hot. I know.”
“Iffy,” Corinne started. “I just want to say to you … you are like my best friend, you know that?”
I smiled at her.
“I mean it when I say I’m glad you’re on my side. You are so fly.”
“Cut it out.”
“I just … you know,” she looked down and then back at me. “I appreciate it, is all I’m saying. You know, you just taking me for who I am and being my bud but also, you know, going to bat for me. Or should I say, going to board.”
“Of course,” I said.
“You know I love you, right?”
I kind of laughed and looked at the ground. “Me too.”
She had to make a joke, of course, a “no funny business now” joke, before she embraced me.
I thought about how strange it was to be touched. I almost even enjoyed the hug. Most of the time I shrank back when somebody tried to touch me and I had at first, too, with Corinne, but I’d had to get used to it: she was always hugging and patting and reaching and grabbing. She was a toucher, all right. And while I found it surprising and a little embarrassing at first, I had almost started to like it, to consider using it myself, this communication through hands. Because it was different when Corinne touched me, it was always playful or kind or affectionate. It was never nasty or pissed off. She never touched me like they used to touch me: the way you touch something that is in your way, something that irritates you, that is large and heavy but also useless, disposable, disgusting.
When she let me go, she turned me by my shoulders to face her. “You know you can talk about it if you want.”
I played dumb. “What?”
“Anything.”
I thought for a minute. I looked at the ground. “I guess there is something,” I mumbled.
Corinne waited.
“You know how I told you about my mom?”
She nodded.
“I think she might be here. Like, I’m sort of looking for her.”
Corinne considered. “Living here? In the park?” she clarified.
I nodded.
“Holy shit, Iffy. We have to find her.”
Chapter 17
It was mosquito time when we set out—just dusk, when they descended in full force, unavoidable, relentless, bloodthirsty. They weren’t as bad outside the park, at the gas station where we bought Newports, but they were waiting for us once we reentered. Swatting and complaining, we stomped through the woods to where I had last seen Danny. He wasn’t there anymore. All that was left were some empty bottles and half-buried rags that had once been clothes. I wanted my photo back, if nothing else.
The place was still repellent. It was as though someone had died there and nobody had bothered to clean it up. Leaves had blown over the spot but didn’t cover the smell and the rot. Even Angel seemed uneasy, ready to look elsewhere.
Pursued by the mosquitoes, we went next to the park benches where I had first seen him, but the benches were lonely in the heat.
Corinne had an idea of another spot. “Let’s try over by Strack Pond.” We took swigs from our water bottles and set off again. I imagined the mosquitoes like a parade following behind us. Hansel and Gretel’s trail of mosquitoes.
I immediately forgot about the bugs, forgot to be annoyed by them, when I saw Danny on a benc
h by the pond. There were four or five homeless people with him. My first, terrible thought was that they were like pigeons perched on the park benches. They roused as we approached, alarmed and fluttering, and then they settled back down when they saw we held something for them.
“You got an extra smoke?” a guy, a kid really, asked.
I nodded and Corinne took one out of a pack. Suddenly, all of their hands were extended.
I stopped in front of Danny while Corinne distributed cigarettes. Red-eyed and bleary, Danny’s vague gaze finally met mine.
“Hey, yeah, I know you,” he choked and then cleared his throat and said more clearly, “What’s up, girl? Find your sister?” He glanced at Corinne.
“No. I was hoping maybe you knew something.”
“You got my cigarettes?”
I held out a full pack of Newports and he smiled at me and took them and I tried to smile back.
“What happened to you, mami?” He was immediately packing the box against his thigh.
I shrugged, “Whatever.”
Danny laughed in an almost-admiring way and fumbled trying to unwrap the cellophane off the cigarettes.
“You don’t look it, but you’re a fighter. Yo, so yeah. I do have something for you. A girl over on Woodhaven Boulevard. A working girl? She thought she recognized the picture.”
My heart pounded in my ears and my vision swam for a moment. I shook my head to clear it. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Danny looked at me strangely. “Why you so surprised?”
“I … I’m not,” I stammered. “What did she say?”
“My girl, Monique, said she thought your sister looked familiar. I told her you’d be looking her up.”
“Well, where is she? What does she look like?”
“I know who Monique is,” Corinne interrupted.
Danny looked Corinne up and down. “Oh you do, do you?”
I looked at Corinne too.
She cut him a side-eye and turned to me. “Come on, we can go over there now. It’ll be dark soon.”
“Okay,” I was feeling excited and sick at the same time. “Thanks, Danny. Thanks so much.”
