Stand Alone

by P. D. Workman

  “My board!”

  She reached out, and Em handed it to her promptly. Justine expected her to pull it back, or to hold onto it tightly and still refuse to hand it over. Em simply let her have it. Justine hugged it to her body, her eyes hot with tears.

  “I know you’ve really been trying,” Em said, her face reddening. “I probably should have given it back to you earlier. You worked at it really hard.”

  Justine looked back at Dr. Morton, who nodded.

  “You’ve really worked hard this week,” he said.

  “I told you I did,” Justine pointed out.

  “And I believed you.”

  Justine ran her fingers lovingly over her skateboard.

  “I’m going to skate from here,” she said.

  Em frowned.

  “You’re going to skate where? Home? It’s quite a ways from here,” she said doubtfully.

  “I can do it,” Justine said, waving off her concern. “I’ve gone that far plenty of times.”

  “You’ll go home, Justine?” Dr. Morton questioned. “We don’t want another  … incident. You’ll just ride home from here?”

  Justine nodded, heading for the door. Em started to protest, but Justine made tracks, pretending that she couldn’t hear Em. She finally had her board back, and no one was going to talk her out of doing anything but skating. Outside the professional building, she put her board down on the sidewalk and stepped on. She was flooded with a feeling of relief and joy. She kicked off and let herself feel the exhilaration of the ride.

  Justine stopped at the playground, flipping her board to pick it up. She walked over to the playground equipment, stretching her legs. After being off of her board for a week, her muscles were more sore than usual. Justine rubbed her thighs and then climbed up on the slide.

  “Are you going to slide down?” a little girl questioned, looking up at her.

  “Yeah,” Justine agreed. “Why not?”

  “You’re too big!” the girl laughed.

  Justine shook her head.

  “No, I’m not.”

  She slid down the slide, and looked back at the little girl.

  “See? I’m not too big,” she pointed out.

  “Do you want to play?”

  “Sure. What do you want to play?”

  “Pirates,” the girl said instantly.

  Justine shrugged.

  “Okay, but we need more people for pirates.”

  “My friends will play,” the girl motioned to include some of the other children were playing around the playground.

  “See how many of them are going to play,” Justine suggested.

  The little girl ran over to recruit who she could. Then they all crowded around Justine, screeching and babbling. Justine laughed. “I’ll be it the first time. Ten-nine-eight  …” The children immediately scattered, screeching. Justine played with them for a while, enjoying the game and being with the younger children, undemanding as they were. The kids her age didn’t play games any more. Not that kind of game.

  After a few minutes, an older girl with a dirty blond mop of hair, probably the sister of one of the ones Justine was playing with, approached. She hadn’t participated in the game, mostly standing around the edges of the playground talking on her cell phone.

  “Hey,” Justine greeted with a friendly smile, wondering if she wanted to join in.

  “This park is for little kids,” the girl said with a scowl.

  Justine shrugged.

  “I’m playing with them,” she said. “We’re all having fun. Do you want to play?” Maybe the girl was feeling sad about being left out.

  “It’s for little kids,” the blond repeated sternly. “You’re too old.”

  Justine shrugged.

  “I can play here if I want,” she maintained.

  The girl folded her arms across her chest, looking at Justine belligerently.

  “I’ll call my mom,” she threatened. “She’ll call the police, if you won’t leave.”

  “The police?” Justine repeated in disbelief. “For what?”

  “You’re a stranger,” the girl pointed out. “You’re not supposed to be playing here.”

  “I’m just playing tag!”

  “My mom says not to let any older kids touch them.”

  Justine shook her head.

  “I’m not!”

  “You touched Billie-Jean,” she insisted. “I saw!”

  Justine swallowed. That was all she needed now. Accusations of molesting little kids. She tried to explain.

  “I didn’t touch them,” she repeated. “I tagged them. That’s not… touching.”

  “I saw,” the girl said again. “I’ll call my mom. She said not to let anyone—”

  “Fine,” Justine interrupted. “I’ll go. But I never did anything.”

  The girl just stood there with arms folded, waiting for her to leave. Justine went to the edge of the playground and grabbed her board. She glanced back sadly at her playmates as she walked back to the path. She stepped onto her board, and skated away.

  CHAPTER 10

  JUSTINE OPENED THE DOOR and slipped into the house, listening to see where Em was and what she was doing. The TV in the living room was on. Justine crept past the doorway, but Em looked up at the wrong moment.

  “Oh, there you are. I didn’t hear you come in. How are you feeling, sweetie?”

  Justine stood there and looked at Em. Em looked calm and comfortable. She was already in her pajamas and had on fuzzy slippers. All signs that she would be in a relaxed and generous mood. Justine trusted Em’s cheerful moods even less than her angry ones.

  “Fine,” Justine growled at her, heading off further conversation. “I’m going to my room.”

  She walked away from the doorway. But she took a detour before going up to her room, stopping in the kitchen and rifling through the fridge for something edible. Em got up.

  “I’m going to order in.”

  Justine jumped, hitting her head on the ceiling of the refrigerator. She swore and grabbed her head, fighting back tears of pain.

  “Oh honey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you jump. Your poor head. Do you want me to get some ice?”

  Em moved in closer, raising a hand to touch Justine’s head. But Justine pulled back, not letting her get too close.

  “No, and I don’t want you to kiss it better,” Justine snarled. “Just stay away from me.”

  Em dropped her hands and stood there looking hurt. But there was no audience, and Justine wasn’t playing along with this new little performance.

  “What are you ordering in?” Justine questioned, rubbing the painful bump forming on the back of her head. She winced at a stab of pain. Justine turned and got a jug of juice out of the fridge, as if that was what she had been looking for in the first place. She poured herself a glass of juice and took a long sip.

  “Pizza,” Em answered.

  Justine looked at her, lowering her brows in distrust. Em cocked her head and stood there, her whole body a wide shrug that said: ‘What, why don’t you trust me?’

  “Real pizza?” Justine questioned, not believing it for a minute.

  “I don’t know where you can order in healthy pizza,” Em laughed. “Maybe I could find a place with a gluten-free crust and just put vegetables on it, but  …”

  “Is that what you did?”

  “No. I ordered from Tony’s. Hawaiian and pepperoni, just like you like.”

  “Tony’s. Tony’s over on fourteenth.”

  “You like them the best, don’t you?”

  Justine nodded. Em waited expectantly. Looking for a ‘thank you,’ or at least a smile of gratitude.

  “Why?” Justine demanded. “You changed your mind about the whole diet thing, now?”

  “No  … but Dr. Morton agrees that it probably isn’t worth pursuing right now. The strict diet. But we’re still going to try to eat healthy. Lots of fresh fruits and veggies, no junk food at home, not eating out any more t
han we can help  …”

  “So this pizza is healthy?” Justine questioned. “It doesn’t count as junk food?”

  Em squirmed and twisted her face into a sort of a guilty grimace.

  “Well, it’s sort of a celebration. We don’t want to do it very often, but every now and then it’s okay. It’s not junk food like pop and chips. It still is  … it’s bread, and tomato sauce, those are good for you.”

  “Huh.”

  Justine drank her juice. She left the dirty glass on the counter and completed the journey upstairs, shutting her door behind her to keep Em out. So, now that Em had lost the leverage of the skateboard, she was back to trying to win Justine with food and nice behavior. Justine had seen plenty of this before. It never ended well. Sooner or later, the mood always broke, and Em screamed like a banshee and undid everything that she had done that was nice. Justine knew it wouldn’t last. Best to just ride it out and not get her hopes up.

  She put down her board gently, and stroked the edge, so relieved to have it back. She couldn’t believe how difficult it had been to be separated from it, first while she was sick, and then for another week afterward. It had been the worst punishment that Em could have invented. Justine was already working on a plan to make sure it couldn’t happen again. Of course, she wouldn’t go anywhere without her board. It hadn’t been her fault that she had lost it during her medical collapse, but she would have to be even more vigilant in the future. She was also going to buy another board. She wasn’t sure yet where she would hide it. In her locker during the school year? Maybe in the basement? Maybe somewhere else, not at school or home, if she could find somewhere that felt safe. She didn’t have any way of earning money right now, but that didn’t preclude her from getting money. The easiest thing to do would be to use Em’s credit card to order the board online. Even if she stole cash, she couldn’t pay for anything online with cash. And the local stores didn’t have any good boards. Some second-rate kiddie boards, but nothing good. She would watch for her chance, and get one as soon as she could. Then Em would never be able to punish her by taking away her board again.

  Justine had her earphones in and was listening to music, though really she had no idea what was playing as she worked out the details of her plan. She didn’t hear Em knocking on her door, her brain distracted by her thoughts and her ears muffled by the music on the headphones. Justine jumped when the door opened and Em poked her head in. With a curse and a gasp, Justine took off the earphones as music continued to blast away.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Don’t you know how to knock?”

  “I did knock,” Em laughed. “Several times. If you want to be able to hear me, then you’d better turn down your music. Otherwise the only way I can get your attention when the pizza gets here is to come in.”

  “The pizza’s here?” Justine repeated.

  “Yeah. Pizza’s here.”

  Justine got up off the bed and turned the music off. She went ahead of Em down the stairs, following her nose. How she had missed the sweet and spicy smell of fresh pizza during the enforced diet. It was like ambrosia. Justine inhaled deeply, and opened up the boxes. While Em watched, Justine took out a plate and loaded it up with two big slices from each pizza.

  “Just take one at a time,” Em advised. “That’s proper etiquette.”

  Justine swore at her. Proper etiquette? Not likely. She headed back upstairs. Em’s face fell.

  “Stay down here and eat with me,” Em begged. “You can find something that you want to watch on TV, and we’ll watch it together. Okay?”

  “No,” Justine said flatly. “You can eat down here with the people with proper etiquette, and I’ll eat like an animal upstairs.”

  “I don’t want food in the bedroom,” Em protested, her voice rising as Justine took the steps two at a time. “The crumbs will attract mice, and  …”

  Justine shut her door with a slam. She looked around slowly. She pulled out the shallow pen drawer of her desk, and pushed all of the pens and other detritus to one side. She put several sheets of clean paper down in the drawer, and transferred two of the pieces of pizza into the drawer. If Em decided tomorrow that the diet was back on, and Justine couldn’t have any more, then she would still have some edible food to fall back on. Looking at the door, she quickly pushed the desk drawer shut again, and sat on her bed to eat the remaining two slices of pizza. After she ate them, she waited for a while, so that Em wouldn’t be suspicious of her eating four pieces of pizza so fast. Then she went back downstairs again, and grabbed another four slices.

  “You’re going to make yourself sick,” Em exclaimed. “You can’t eat all that! Have one slice at a time, and then decide if you are full or not. Don’t just try to snarf down four at a time  …”

  “I’m hungry,” Justine told her. “Leave me alone.”

  “Justine,” Em remonstrated, trying to keep her voice pleasant, but obviously getting ticked off. “Please listen to me. You can still have the pizza, but just have one piece at a time  …”

  “Leave me alone,” Justine repeated forcefully. “The social worker said to let me eat what I wanted, and Dr. Morton said to let me eat what I wanted, so just let me eat!”

  “That’s not what  …”

  Justine started to swear and curse at the top of her voice. Em’s face flushed with embarrassment and she glanced self-consciously at the open windows. Justine raised the plate of pizza to throw on the floor in a fit, but changed her mind. The pizza was too important to waste on pique. She grabbed the juice jug instead and threw it at the tiled floor. Glass and sticky fluid went scattering all over the floor. Em shrieked. Justine stepped over it and took her second helping of pizza up the stairs to her room. After shutting her door, she waited for a couple of minutes to make sure that Em wasn’t going to storm up after her. Then she hid two more pieces of pizza away in the desk and sat down to eat the rest. Justine’s stomach was uncomfortably full by the time she was halfway through the third piece, but she pushed on through and ate them all.

  She lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. She poked at her sore, bulging belly, massaging it. She had pizza. Tony’s pizza. It felt wonderful to be so full.

  Justine could tell when she woke up that she had slept in much later than usual. The sun was shining full on her window, warming the room uncomfortably. She pushed off her blankets and turned to look at the clock. She had been so used to Em trying to keep her on a regular sleep schedule and taking her out on all of her errands lately. It was weird to wake up on her own, to be allowed to just keep her own schedule. Justine stretched and yawned loudly, and went down the hall to the bathroom.

  When she went downstairs, everything was quiet. Em was not around. No breakfast was on the table. The glass and juice had been cleaned up, but the last couple of pieces of pizza were still out on the counter. Justine picked up a cold piece of pizza and started to eat. She put in a cup of coffee to brew, and wandered over to the computer while she waited. She started to search for an online store where she could order a new skateboard. When the coffee machine started beeping, Justine got up to get her cup, mind occupied by the various options for a new board. She picked up the cup and sipped at the scalding hot coffee. It was then Justine noticed that Em’s purse was sitting on the counter. Em never left her wallet out where it was easily accessible anymore. Justine poked her head into each of the main floor rooms, but didn’t find Em.

  Justine stealthily took Em’s wallet out of her purse, and slid her credit card out of her wallet. She listened for a moment for any signs of life upstairs, but hearing nothing, went back to the computer. She’d never dreamed that it would be so easy to get her hands on Em’s credit card. Em was super uptight about leaving it out. Justine had never hoped that Em would just leave it out on the counter and there would be no need to distract her or go searching for it in the night. This was almost too easy.

  After looking through a couple more stores, she selected the new board tha
t she wanted, and paid for it using Em’s credit card. She took the card back into the kitchen and replaced it in the wallet in Em’s purse. Justine would just have to watch the mail and make sure that Em’s credit card statement never reached her. If Em didn’t get it in the mail, she wouldn’t have time to review it when she realized it was due, and would be in a panic to avoid any late charges. A couple hundred dollars extra wouldn’t be enough to make her take notice.

  Justine spent a bit more time on the computer, checking her e-mail and indifferent social networks. She went back upstairs to shower and do her hair. She stuck her head in Em’s bedroom door and saw Em lying in bed still.

  “Why are you still in bed?” she demanded. “Are you sick?”

  Em groaned and rolled over, squinting at Justine.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “I’ve got a migraine. It hit last night, after  …”

  Justine’s eyes started to adjust to the dark. Em still had on her fuzzy slippers from last night, she hadn’t even bothered to take them off. She was just lying across the bed with her housecoat and slippers still on.

  “Okay,” Justine said, shrugging. “So you don’t need the shower? I’m going to do my hair.”

  “No.”

  Em groaned again, more dramatically. Justine rolled her eyes.

  “Will you be able to help me dry and style it after?” Justine questioned.

  “No. You’ll have to do it yourself, Justine. I’m sick.”

  “Well, I thought you could still help with my hair. Fine.”

  She stomped back down the hall to the bathroom and got in the shower. Since Em didn’t need it, she could have as long shower as she wanted to, as long as the hot water tank held. She washed and conditioned her hair first so that she wouldn’t have to rinse in cold water when the hot ran out. Then she just luxuriated in the steaming hot water, massaging her scalp with her eyes closed.

  Some days later, Em was at work, and Justine had the house to herself. She went into Em’s room and looked through the baby book and pictures again. Justine still didn’t believe that baby was her. She had no emotional connection with that baby. When she saw it, she didn’t feel any kinship with that baby. That wasn’t her. That wasn’t her life. That was somebody else’s life. Even though the DNA test had said it was her, she still didn’t believe it.