Impossible

by Jocelyn Shipley

  “I know,” Wade says. “I know. I already left a message for his family. And the co-op board wants to start a fund for them, to help with funeral expenses and so on.”

  “Good idea.” Trust Wade to be thinking of the family while all I did was sit here worrying about my own sorry ass.

  “And Jem? I was wondering if you could maybe look after organizing that?”

  “What? Me?” Can’t. Can’t. Can’t.

  “Well, I know you knew them, and I thought you’d want to help.”

  “Of course I want to help,” I say. “But I only knew them a little bit. Like, not well or anything.”

  “It would be a good way for you to contribute to the Woodley Co-op.”

  Wade’s right. Everybody who lives here is supposed to volunteer in some way. Since Violet was born, I haven’t been doing my part. If I don’t agree, he’ll wonder why. “Well, okay, I guess. But you’ll have to tell me how. I mean, do I go door to door or what?”

  “Thanks, Jem. We can figure out the logistics tonight. You could start by putting a sign up on the bulletin board, and maybe post something on the website. Violet okay?”

  “She’s good.”

  “You okay?”

  No, I’m not. I’m scared shitless. And I just agreed to collect money for Kwame’s family, which means talking to everybody in the building. “Fine. You’ll be home for dinner?”

  “Not until after ten. Some of the guys are going to the ball game.”

  “Okay, have fun.” I don’t want Wade to know how I’m really feeling. He’d be home and have the truth out of me in minutes. He’d force me to go to the cops.

  My brother always does the right thing. That’s why he’s such a good co-op board member. I mean, he already thought to set up a fund. He already called Kwame’s family. I’m sure he left the nicest message, full of sympathy and support.

  And here I am, keeping what I saw a secret.

  The Mensahs have a right to know who murdered their son. I really wish I could help them out.

  But I can’t face what will happen if I tell.

  Chapter Four

  I spend the afternoon playing with Violet and thinking things through. I need to keep my story straight, especially around Wade. And my story is that I don’t know anything.

  If by chance that cashier remembers more details, or somehow somebody figures out it was me in Ready Go, I’ll admit to being there. I’ll admit to leaving Violet alone to buy diapers. I’ll take the consequences, whatever they are.

  But I’ll swear I didn’t see anything. I’ll say I heard the shot but was already halfway home. I was scared by the sound and ran back to my baby. I didn’t call the cops because I didn’t witness the shooting. So I don’t have anything to tell them.

  I wrap my lime-green tank top in plastic bags and stuff it down the garbage chute. Now I just have to figure out how to help with the memorial fund.

  It’s going to be brutal. How can I keep from sobbing when I ask people in our building to contribute? As soon as I say how nice the Mensahs are, and how shocked and horrified I am that something like this could happen, I’ll burst into tears. I’ll have to hope that if I cry, people will think it’s because Kwame was my friend. Not because I witnessed his murder.

  Collecting for the fund might actually be a good thing though. It will make me look innocent. Everyone will think I’m great for helping out.

  Yeah, I know that sounds selfish and heartless. And it totally is. But as much as I want to help the Mensahs, I can’t tell them anything. That would be way too dangerous.

  I’m super worried about putting a sign on the bulletin board like Wade suggested. If I see Big Bad Betty or Dekker in the mail room, I’ll crack for sure.

  But I have to do something.

  And then I have a brilliant idea. What if I tell people to leave their donations at the building manager’s office? The money would be safer there than here in our apartment. And I wouldn’t have to go door to door.

  I log in to Wade’s laptop and email Dekker to ask him to check if that would be okay. Since we’re friends, he responds right away, saying what a good plan it is. He asks if I’m coming by the office soon. I sometimes bring Violet down for a visit.

  I really want to see him. He’s such a nice guy. Not that I’m looking for romance. But if I ever was, I’d have my eye on him. Okay, I kind of already do.

  But my best bet is to act normal and avoid talking to anybody. So I tell Dekker that maybe I’ll visit, and then I post a notice about the memorial fund on the members’ section of Woodley Co-op’s website.

  After dinner Violet plays happily on her mat. I try to watch a movie to distract myself. But nothing takes my mind off my problems.

  How I wish Wade would come home. When he’s going to be late, he always calls to check that we’re okay. So when my phone rings I’m sure it’s him, and I don’t even glance at the caller ID.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” I say. “Things are good here.” I try to sound in control, so Wade won’t pick up on my fear.

  “Hey, babe,” a steely voice says.

  I freeze. I’d know that voice anywhere.

  “How did you get this number?” I ditched my phone when I left Razor. Wade bought me a new one when Violet was born, since we don’t have a landline.

  “Babe,” Razor says. “I can get anything.”

  Of course he can. He’s Razor. He never came after me, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t find me. He just never needed to. Until now.

  “What do you want?” As if I don’t know. I should hang up and turn my phone off. But it wouldn’t help.

  “Did you really think you could just walk out on me?”

  Actually, I did. I know that sounds stupid. But he always had other girls on the side. I even thought he might have been glad to be rid of me. We’d been fighting over the things he wanted me to do. I figured he’d go back to the bus station and find a new me in minutes.

  “Please leave me alone.”

  “Now why would I want to do that?”

  “Because it’s over. There’s nothing more to say.”

  “You sure? ’Cause I think we got something to discuss.”

  So he did recognize me when he drove by. Shit. Did he tell the shooter?

  If he did, I’m dead.

  I can’t speak. I just stand there, shaking.

  Violet chooses that moment to let out a long, hungry wail. It’s time for her last bottle. I set down my phone, pull her into my arms and stick a soother in her mouth.

  When I pick up my phone again, I hear Razor laughing. “That a baby crying?”

  “What? A baby? God no.”

  “Yeah, it is. You got a kid?”

  “Me? Are you joking? No way. Must be from across the hall.” He can’t find out about Violet. I don’t want him anywhere near her. “There’s always some kid crying in this building.”

  “Right,” Razor says. “So anyway, you didn’t answer my question yet.”

  “What question?”

  “Did you really think you could just walk out on me?”

  I still don’t answer him. Finally he says, “Oh, Jem.” He laughs again, and this time it’s more of a nasty snarl. “I can’t let you go for good.”

  “Please, please, please.” I remember how he liked me to beg for things. “Just leave me alone, and I won’t say anything.”

  “About what?”

  “You know what.” I’m not going to mention the shooting out loud. “I promise.”

  “Oh, but see…” He pauses, and it sounds like he’s puffing on a cigarette. It makes me want one so bad I could scream. “See, I’m not sure I can trust you.”

  “Of course you can.” I’d like to remind him of all the times I did what he said. Times I’m ashamed of now. “Honest, you can trust me. Totally.”

  “But you ran out on me.”

  “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.” And in a weird way, I am. In spite of all the bad stuff, we did have some good times. That�
�s the reason I stayed as long as I did. “Please,” I beg again. “I promise I’ll never say anything to anybody.”

  “Yeah, but here’s the problem,” Razor says. “I just don’t believe you.”

  Chapter Five

  “You look beat,” Wade says as he buckles Violet into her high chair at breakfast.

  “I had a bad night,” I say. I’m mixing up some rice cereal in Violet’s special duck dish. “Couldn’t stop thinking about that shooting. I just feel so bad for Kwame’s family, you know?”

  “Yeah, for sure.” Wade ties a bib on Violet and starts feeding her. “But at least we’re collecting for them. I saw the notice on the website. That was a good idea, to have the money dropped off.”

  “Sorry I didn’t get anything on the bulletin board yet.” Word will get around, but I still should put up an official notice. “I’ll do it this morning. Any details on the funeral?”

  “As soon as the police release the body. Which should be today, so they’ll probably bury Kwame tomorrow.”

  “We’ll be going, right?”

  “No, it’s private. Just for family. But there’ll be a memorial here in the common room on Wednesday afternoon.”

  I stop pouring a glass of juice. “But you work then.”

  “I’ll have to see who can cover for me.”

  “You have to find somebody.” I don’t want to go to the memorial without Wade. “Please find somebody.” My voice sounds all watery, and I fight back tears.

  “You okay?”

  I shrug and sniffle. “Fine. Just feeling a little emotional about everything.”

  “Understandable. You good to work tonight?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I can’t let Wade know anything’s wrong. He’s given me everything I need to turn my life around. He buys the groceries and pays the rent. While we’re on the wait list for a two-bedroom, he sleeps on the futon so Violet and I can have the bedroom.

  But in return, he expects me to grow up. He expects me to be mature and responsible.

  When I met Razor, I was the stereotypical love-sick teenager. I believed everything he said. And he knew all the buttons to push.

  You’re so pretty, he said. With some makeup and the right clothes, you could look really glamorous. You could be my girl.

  But he wanted me ready and willing to party whenever he called, so I let Wade down a ton of times. I messed up on my co-op jobs, like helping with grounds cleanup and delivering the newsletter, and I missed shifts at the Bean Leaf.

  Wade wanted me to break it off. My mom wanted me to come home. Both could see what I couldn’t—that Razor was trouble. But of course I wouldn’t listen, so finally Wade kicked me out.

  No big deal, right? I just moved in with Razor. And that’s when things stopped being so much fun.

  Suddenly Razor thought he owned me. He didn’t want me to make any friends. He didn’t want me to work. He didn’t want me to go out at all.

  And then he started making me do things I wasn’t comfortable with. Sex stuff.

  Hearing Razor’s voice again on the phone last night brought it all back. No wonder I couldn’t sleep.

  God, I was so naïve.

  Wade gives Violet a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Later,” he says. He’s opening the café today, so he has to be there early. As he leaves he adds, “Be a good girl, sweetheart.”

  I’m not sure which one of us he means. But I know he’ll think about kicking me out and going for custody of Violet if he finds out what I did.

  I finish feeding Violet and wipe off her face and hands. Put her down on her mat to play. Then I take a piece of printer paper and make a sign about raising funds for the Mensahs. I use every colored marker we have. I want it to look upbeat and positive, so people will donate lots of money.

  When I’ve finished, I look out the window and notice the news vans have disappeared. Maybe they’ve already caught Razor and the shooter?

  I check the news on TV. No such luck. They’re still begging for information. But a protest over a new development on the waterfront has turned ugly, and there was a stabbing on the subway, so now those are the top stories.

  I change Violet and pop her in the stroller. Grit my teeth and get on the elevator. At least there’s no one around. It’s Monday morning, and most people are at work or still asleep. I post the sign I made on the bulletin board and head outside.

  It rained in the night, and the morning is crisp and cool. So refreshing after all the heat. I’m a bit worried that Razor will come looking for me, so I do my usual check around the area. But I don’t see him. I feel almost okay as I push Violet to the park down the block.

  The park has a playground and wading pool, so there are always lots of people there with their kids. But I don’t know any of them.

  For the first six months after I left Razor, I was trying to heal emotionally and cope with being pregnant. Then Violet was born. The next seven months were pretty fuzzy too, what with looking after a new baby and working at the café.

  I had no time or energy to socialize. Plus, I didn’t want anybody asking about my past. So all these regulars at the park are strangers to me.

  I take another good look around before entering. Besides the usual parents and kids, there are two lifeguards at the wading pool, a crew of gardeners and some guys doing road repairs in the intersection. No Razor.

  Violet is asleep in the stroller now, so I plunk down on a bench in the shade. I just want to sit here and think of nothing.

  But somebody sits down beside me right away. Somebody with a big, scary dog. I don’t look at him, but I get a creepy feeling. There must be five other benches. Why’d he have to pick this one? And then I know. He picked this bench because I’m sitting here. And he wants to scare me.

  It’s Razor.

  Chapter Six

  Razor must have been hiding in a parked car or something. He’s sneaky that way.

  I turn and glare at him.

  I have to admit, he looks good. That rugged face, those broad shoulders, those ice-blue eyes. That’s why it was so hard to leave, no matter how bad he treated me. I was pathetically attracted to him. But no more.

  “So,” he says. “You do have a kid.”

  I kick the brake off Violet’s stroller. With all these people around, he probably won’t try to abduct us or anything. But still. I might need to run.

  “No, I don’t. She’s not mine. I’m just babysitting.”

  “Right.”

  I point at his ugly dog. “New?” Razor never kept any pets. Not animal ones anyway.

  Razor ignores my question and stares at my boobs. Why did I wear such a skimpy T-shirt? “Christ, Jem,” he says, “you’re still so hot!”

  “Stop,” I say. “Please.”

  “You’ve lost too much weight though.” He goes to pat my arm, but I slap him away.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Violet shifts and stretches in her sleep. Thank God I pulled her wide-brimmed sun hat down over her eyes.

  Razor tilts his head and studies her. “Hey there, cutie pie.” He reaches out to take her hand.

  I throw myself between him and Violet. “Don’t touch her either!”

  His dog growls and leaps at me, way too close to Violet. I move to shield her.

  He yanks the leash, choking the dog back. “It’s okay, Ace. They’re not dangerous.” Razor smirks at me. “Relax, Jem. I wouldn’t hurt your little baby girl.”

  My insides turn to jelly. “I told you, she’s not mine.” There’s a shrill of fear in my voice. “I just babysit her.” I breathe deeply, trying to stay calm.

  “You know, babe,” Razor says, “I could always tell when you’re lying.” He strokes my hand instead of Violet’s. I remember how his touch used to set me on fire.

  I have to think clearly. What would Wade tell me to do? Act tough. Stand up to him. Run the fuck away.

  Razor lifts his hand to my hair. I didn’t tie it back today, so it’s all loose and curly. He strokes it softly, just like
he used to.

  Nobody’s touched me in a long time. Except for Violet. And a baby pulling on your hair just isn’t the same.

  But I know how fast Razor’s touch can change. I want to scream at him to keep his hands off me. Somehow I manage to stay perfectly still.

  Ace bares his teeth and growls. Strains against the leash, bashing into the stroller.

  Which, of course, wakes Violet up. She whimpers a bit, then settles again.

  “Hey, hey, that’s good—stay asleep.” I rock her back and forth in the stroller, but it doesn’t work.

  She wakes up, and her little arms reach to take off her sun hat. She hates wearing it. I try to stop her. “Leave your hat on, honey. It’s so pretty.” And it is pretty. Multicolored polka dots with a white ribbon bow. I hold the hat down on her.

  But Violet wriggles her head away. She pulls the hat off completely and flings it to the ground. Then she smiles up at Razor.

  “Fucking hell!” he says. “She’s mine!”

  “She’s not!”

  “Yeah, she is. Got my freakin’ eyes.” He pauses and then turns and says coldly, “And you never even told me.”

  Ace growls and leaps around like crazy. I’m afraid Razor’s going to lose control of his dog. Or himself.

  I don’t know what to say next. I so don’t want to get into this with him.

  “Hey, I got a right to know.” Razor grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Got a right to my own kid. There’s laws.”

  “Laws?” I say, trembling all over. “Since when did you care about laws?”

  “Since it suits me.” He lets go of me, and his voice softens. “Since I want to spend time with my kid, get to know her.”

  “Right. Like you’re a real family man.”

  “I been thinking about it lately. My new girl’s crazy to have a kid.”

  “So why don’t you go have one with her and leave us alone.”