The next time he stops for gas, there’s a little market where Tinker gets Leo a carton of milk. He’s been giving him cups of water, but he’s gratified when Leo steadily gulps the milk until it’s gone.
When Tinker sees a cop car on the freeway and gets paranoid, he reminds himself that even if he did get caught with Leo, surely he wouldn’t go back to prison. For Christ’s sake, the boy is his very own flesh-and-blood nephew. They can’t call it kidnapping if you’re related, right?
He realizes then that if he can’t get the kid to stop crying for his mother and Venus every two hours, it’s going to be a problem. Finally he yells back at Leo, “What about your dad? Why don’t you cry for your dad?”
Leo doesn’t answer, of course. Finally, Tinker pulls off at an exit and finds an isolated place to park. He gets the duct tape out of the glove box. He gets in the backseat next to Leo. When Leo sees the tape, he screams, “No! No!” and hunkers down on the floor of the car as far from Tinker as he can get.
Tinker thunders at him, “Don’t say Mommy. Don’t say Venus. Don’t say Mommy. Don’t say Venus! Do you understand, Leo? If you say the word Mommy or the word Venus, I will put this tape on your mouth again.”
He shoves the tape down by Leo’s head and yells again. “No more crying for Mommy. No crying for Venus. Do you understand, Leo?”
The boy seems to be nodding his head, though it’s hard to tell. Tinker can only hope this will work. Back on the freeway, he feels kind of bad. He’s never been mean to a kid before.
They arrive in Oakland in late afternoon. By now Leo has settled down and is sitting up on the seat again. Inside a Safeway, Tinker purchases an Oakland Tribune. When he comes back out, he is gratified all over again that Leo is still just waiting in the car. He can be such a good kid; it’s too bad about the crying and the other weird shit.
Tinker locates the cheapest furnished rental in the listings.
“Two hundred big ones, Leo,” he says. “Was hoping we wouldn’t have to spend our wad so quick.”
Tinker had a wife once. Her name was Kimberly, and they lived in an apartment in Olympia for only a hundred fifty dollars a month. Kimberly was a real beauty, with long legs, big boobs, and doll eyes. She had the whole package except for the one arm. She’d lost her left arm in a car accident when she was twelve.
But Tinker didn’t mind. Scoring Kimberly was like buying a really cool car that was maybe missing a window or a bumper. It still ran, though, and people looked at you with envy when you drove past. Plus, for all anyone knew, Tinker had married Kimberly before she ever lost her arm, which might make people think Tinker was a great guy for sticking around.
Or, if they knew he married her with one arm, that didn’t look too bad, either. He always knew he had a big heart, and Kimberly proved it.
The marriage lasted over two years, which was almost a success in Tinker’s mind. Kimberly divorced him when he got arrested for the burglaries. She’d been fine knowing he did them. But when he got caught and the money ended, so did the love.
Tinker still misses Kimberly sometimes. And who knows, they might have worked things out after he got out of Monroe if he hadn’t yelled as she was leaving that day, “Who else is going to want a one-armed wife?”
He regrets that now. Not just because it was mean, but also because he knows he was probably wrong. He’s pretty sure plenty of guys don’t give a rat’s ass about shit like arms and legs.
Tessa Herrera is sitting on the steps in front of her dad’s tattoo shop, playing jacks in the sun. She’s on foursies when a beat-up white Impala pulls up at the curb. She watches a man with reddish-blond hair, a large belly, and big sweat circles under the arms of his green T-shirt get out of the car and head toward her.
She scoots to the side of the steps and politely asks, “Tattoo appointment?”
But the man says no, he’s looking for the apartment for rent, but maybe he has the wrong address.
“Oh no,” she says, turning to point. “There’s two apartments above the shop—we live in one and rent the other one out. My dad’s inside. He’ll tell you all about it.”
“Why, thank you, little lady,” he says with a small bow. Tessa feels like he’s making fun of her for being young. She’s eleven, but her dad says she’s “petite” for her age, which she knows means small.
A few minutes later, the man comes back out of the shop with her dad and they head up the stairs. The guy is talking and laughing too loud, and Tessa can tell he is trying too hard to impress her father.
Tessa’s dad says that she might be shy but she’s “good at reading people,” and sometimes he even asks Tessa’s opinion about whether or not they should rent to a person.
She’s about to resume her jacks when she notices a blond boy with a buzz cut in the backseat of the car. The kid seems to be looking her direction, so she smiles and waves. When the boy doesn’t smile or wave back, she feels dumb for trying.
Obviously the boy in the car belongs to the guy looking at the apartment. But they’ve never rented to anyone with a kid before, probably because the apartment has only one bed. Usually it was just a single older person, or else a couple.
When she finally looks up again, the boy is still openly staring in her direction. He must be about seven, she decides. She doesn’t wave again, but she is too polite not to smile. When the boy doesn’t smile back, just keeps staring, she’s embarrassed. What a jerk!
The phone starts ringing from inside the shop and she jumps to her feet. Her dad has a thing about always grabbing the phone in case it’s a tattoo client. This time, Tessa hopes it’s someone who wants to rent the apartment, who doesn’t have a totally rude kid who won’t stop staring.
* * *
—
TINKER HAD TO walk away from the first two apartments because they wanted a background check and references. When the third address turns out to be an apartment above a shop called Tattoos by Tony he gets his hopes up.
He leaves the kid in the car, since he doesn’t want Leo to ruin his chances by acting all weird and shit. He’s convinced they look like any dad and son—he’s pretty sure there’s even a family resemblance. But if people are looking for a blond kid with a buzz cut who acts like a whack job, Leo fits the bill. Totally conspicuous.
A pretty, young Mexican girl with black braids is sitting on the front steps, and she directs Tinker into the shop, where her dad introduces himself as Tony. He’s got long black hair in a ponytail. Tinker shakes his hand. “I’m Phil,” he offers. “Phil Brown.”
While they climb the wooden stairs on the side of the building, Tinker makes small talk, turns on his natural charm. Inside the apartment, he notices a big front window that looks out onto the street. “Nice big window!” Tinker exclaims. On the opposite wall is a small white stove, fridge, sink, and about a foot of counter space. He motions toward it. “Everything I need,” he says.
The Tony guy explains that the tweed couch is a pullout.
“A hideaway?” says Tinker. “That’s fabulous. More than I was expecting.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too enthusiastic. The rest of the furniture is odds and ends. There’s a card table and folding chairs for a kitchen table. There’s also a small TV with rabbit ears, which is a big bonus. Tinker likes TV, because it keeps him out of trouble.
When Tony waves him toward the bedroom and bathroom, Tinker pretends to inspect them. The bed is a full size with no headboard. He hopes the bedding is included, but he doesn’t want to ask in case it isn’t. The bathroom needs new grout and smells a little funny, but it’s probably bug spray or something, which Tinker chooses to take as a positive.
Back in the front room, he reaches for his wallet. “This is perfect,” he says. “I’ll take it.” Maybe if Tinker pulls out cash, the guy won’t bother to ask for references.
“Just you?” Tony asks, waving away the cash.
Tinker
’s heart sinks. What if no kids are allowed? “It’s just me and my boy, sir,” he says, with what he hopes is obvious sadness. “He’s got some issues with his thinking, so he’s kind of immature. But he’s a sweet kid. I only got him recently, after his mom got a heroin habit and ran off. I don’t do any of that shit. So you don’t need to worry.”
Tony is looking out the front window down at Tinker’s car. “Is that your boy?”
“Yeah, that’s Leo,” says Tinker, trying to sound proud of his son.
“How old is Leo?”
Hearing the kid’s name come out of Tony’s mouth, he realizes his mistake. Shit. Goddamn. Holy Mother of Fuckups. Why didn’t Tinker come up with a fake name for Leo? He’s about to say he thinks Leo is around six or seven, when he catches his stupid self. Dads know how old their kids are! He takes a guess. “Leo’s six years old,” says Tinker. “But you’ll notice he seems a lot younger.”
“So where do you work, Phil?”
More with the questions. This Tony is scrutinizing him in a way that makes Tinker nervous. “Well, I’m just relocating from Redding,” says Tinker. “But I got plenty of money until I find something.”
Tinker notices that Tony is probably what the ladies think is good-looking. The girls all go for that pretty shit. Tinker knows his gut is kind of pudgy, so he sucks in his stomach while he’s thinking about it. “It’s a deal, then?”
When Tony doesn’t answer right away, Tinker regrets he never bothered to get a tat, because needles scare him. What an idiot! Having a great tattoo could’ve really helped him out here. “I’m planning to be one of your next customers,” Tinker offers, spur of the moment.
“Yeah?” says Tony. “I look forward to that.”
“So I got the apartment, right?” Once again, Tinker extends his small stack of cash. “First and last, fifty-dollar deposit. It’s all there.”
Tony takes the cash this time and Tinker sighs with relief.
“When would you two move in?” he asks.
“Right away, sir. Or whenever you want.” Tinker realizes he should probably have more stuff, like a truck or something. All he has is a huge duffel. He should have tried harder to look more…He fumbles for the word. It starts with an L.
“Okay, Phil,” says Tony. “Move in whenever you want.”
Tinker notices how weird it feels to be called Phil. He took the name from a best friend in high school. And brown is the color of his shoes.
“Dad!” a girl’s voice calls up the stairs. “Marco’s on the phone.”
“You’ll have to fill out an application later,” Tony tells him hurriedly. “Rent’s due by the fifth of each month. Sorry, I gotta go get this.”
Tinker smiles, hardly able to contain his relief. “No problem at all,” he says in his best no-big-deal voice. He doubts his brother, Ray, could have swung this deal so quickly.
Left alone in the apartment, Tinker realizes his bladder is about to burst. It thrills him to think he has his own bathroom to use. He’s almost done whizzing when the word he was looking for earlier finally comes to him. He should have tried harder to look legitimate. He shakes himself, flushes, and lets out a small hoot.
Leo watches the girl get up and leave. He sees the things that look like stars and the small ball. He wants the sparkling things and the red ball. He gets out of the car and quickly snatches them up.
Back in the car, he counts ten metal stars. The red ball is one. The man comes back to the car and tells Leo to come. “Where did you get those?” asks the man. Leo ignores him. He follows the man up some stairs and into another place that is not his house. His mother isn’t here. Venus isn’t here. He wants to cry for his mom, but the man yelled, No!
He sits on the floor by the window in a patch of sun. He folds his legs like he saw the girl do. He tosses the metal things. They glitter in the light. After a while, he picks up the red ball. He bounces it and catches it. He does this over and over.
Now the man’s voice is poking him again. “Did you steal those, Leo?” Leo blocks out the sound. Eventually the man quits talking and goes away. When Leo feels hungry, he looks at his yellow watch. The short line is on the eight. He has dinner on the six.
The man isn’t here. Leo stands up and walks over to the TV. The show is not Gilligan. Leo wants to touch the metal sticks on top of the TV. But he hears his dad yell, No, Leo. Don’t touch the TV!
He goes into the room with the bed. He sees a closet with a door, like at home. But it’s the wrong closet. He wants his purple blanket, but he knows it isn’t here. He curls up on the floor in the closet. He checks his watch again. Where is Venus? Where is his mother? He wants dinner.
He cries and rocks and counts until he is asleep. When he wakes up, he is not in bed. He is in the wrong closet. His neck hurts. He remembers the man with the orange hair. He smells bacon. Bacon is what his father ate.
* * *
—
AFTER SCHOOL, TESSA sits at the little white desk her dad got her for her tenth birthday. Sitting here doing her homework always makes her feel more like a grown-up. Every now and then, she glances at the framed picture of her mother on the corner of the desk. She’s known since she was very little that her mother died when Tessa was born.
Her father says it’s not her fault, but Tessa has never felt sure.
Right next to the picture of her mother is the small statue of the Virgin Mary that belonged to her mom. Her dad says it was her favorite thing. “She was strong in her faith,” her father liked to say. Tessa wishes he talked more about stuff like the dates they went on.
A half hour later, she is deep in thought, doing work for math class, when she hears a strange knocking sound. She quickly decides it’s coming from the other apartment. They share a wall and sometimes Tessa hears noise from the neighbors, so she isn’t surprised. The father and son moved in last night, but she had to go babysit at the Smiths’ house, so she missed it.
Now she decides they must be hanging a picture, even though the dad didn’t look like the type. She wonders if the boy sleeps in the same bed with his father or if he has to sleep on the hide-a-bed in the front room. She hopes the boy doesn’t find out the Herreras’ apartment is way bigger and nicer than theirs.
After dinner, Tessa’s father tells her he has to work late again, which is always a disappointment to her. He went right back down to the shop after he finished the spaghetti Tessa had cooked for him. “You’re such a good girl, Tess,” he tells her, pulling her in for a hug. He always says this whenever he works at night.
Tonight, while she fills the sink with soapy water, she feels a little lonely. Her dad might be right about her needing more friends. She has her best friend, Kelly, at school, and sometimes Tessa spends the night over at Kelly’s house. But she doesn’t really like to have friends stay over at her house, since there’s no mom to make things feel homey or like a family.
After Tessa has cleaned the kitchen, including the Ragú sauce stuck under the stove burner, she sits down on the couch in the front room and looks at her book of horses for a long time. Then she goes to her room to study spelling for tomorrow’s test, even though she knows she’ll get an A. But before she starts to study, she hears the same steady knocking sound she heard earlier. The neighbors must have a lot of pictures to hang—but how many pictures can you hang on one wall?
At 8:00 P.M., she turns the TV on to watch Little House on the Prairie. She loves this show so much it usually makes her cry. Not because it’s sad, but because she wants to be part of the Ingalls family. Of course, Tessa never cries if her dad is around. He might think she’s not mature, after all.
The show ends at 9:00 P.M., which is when she thinks her mother might want her to go to bed if she were alive. She does that a lot, tries to imagine her mom’s wishes, in case she’s watching from heaven. After she prays on her knees and climbs into her carefully made bed, the poundi
ng noise starts in again. She sits up and looks around the room. The moon has come out and the walls look bluish, even though they’re plain white.
She gets out of bed and goes over to the wall and puts her ear to it. The nailing is coming from behind her dresser, way down low on the wall, not where you’d hang a picture. She moves her dresser out, scraping it along the wood floor. She kneels down and listens. Before she can think why, she impulsively knocks on the wall. The knocking stops. She knocks again, softly. Three times. And three knocks come back. She smiles but feels confused. It must be the bratty boy knocking, but why would he do that?
She sees herself squatting there, her white nightgown pooling around her on the floor in the blue light. Silence. Suddenly she’s embarrassed. She decides not to knock again and climbs back in bed.
The silence lasts.
The man with the wrong orange hair is not here. Leo doesn’t know when he left. It was after Leo was watching the TV for a long time. Not Gilligan or Speed Racer, but a show with fuzzy white and black and gray squiggles. Leo liked staring at it. The man had stood near him and said something. Once, the man changed the channel. But when Leo started yelling, he changed it back.
Now Leo goes to the room where there is a closet. He curls up on the floor and starts to rock. He wants Venus. Why won’t she come? He sees her in his head like at night when he sleeps. He sees her room, and he hears her voice counting stars and saying the planets.
He wants his mother. She always gets his purple blanket for him. She never yells at Leo for being in the closet. But sometimes his father opens the door and yells, “Goddamn it, Leo!”
Leo knows the word damn. It’s a red feeling. And when his father says it, Leo gets scared his father might hurt him.
* * *
—
TINKER FINDS A job the first day out. Not surprising, since he is a skilled fry cook. One of the few good things that came out of his stint in prison. Whenever he wants a job, he finds a place that needs a short-order cook and offers to work three nights for free. They always keep him, despite the huge gaps in his application.
My Name Is Venus Black Page 6
