“We came in a tacky cab.”
“You brought him with you? Is Michelle here, too?” She looked behind them for her sister. All she needed was an entire circus troupe hanging around.
“Shelly went to a movie. We playing. He’s fun.”
Of course Benji liked him. Benji craved attention. And he’d especially enjoy it from a giant with a friendly smile. “What are you wearing? Where’d you get that?” His clothes were the exact same costume that Horace wore, only a tiny replica. His Cars backpack was in stark contrast to the golden brocade and braiding. “Aren’t you dying in this heat?” Then to Horace, “You can’t dress little kids in stuff like this. He’ll get heat stroke.”
“I thought you would like our appearance. He isn’t hot. It is a special fabric that keeps him cool. No need to worry.” Horace lifted Benji and plopped him up on his broad, left shoulder. It was a bench to Benji.
“He’s wearing fur and a heavy rug. Tights and a hat, too? Horace, you can’t do that to a little kid. Benji, are you okay?” Though too high on Horace’s shoulder to easily reach, Chloe still pulled at his costume to try to release him from the oven it surely was.
Horace covered her frantic hands with his huge, still hand. “Really, he is okay. Look at his face. He’s not sweating or even flushed. I fixed them so he won't be overheated. He is fine. In fact, he’s cooler than anyone here.”
True, Benji looked comfortable. Maybe the billows of the costume were stuffed with ice packs. He certainly looked happy up there. And cuter than ever as a little replica of the giant on whom he perched.
“Why are you here really? You look silly. That’s the biggest, most pompous thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Your sister led me to believe it was a requirement for admittance. Obviously by your scant modern dress, she lied to me.” He wasn't looking at her face.
“Yeah, well she does that sometimes.” Chloe pulled her shorts down longer, or at least tried. Horace inspected her with thorough interest. “She sure got you good.” She pulled up her tank to cover up a bit more, too. “Yep, she’s a prankster, all right.” His brown eyes were incredibly intense. And penetrating.
He put his eyes back on her face, like he hadn’t just totally checked her out. “I will have you know this is an exact replica of what Henry VIII wore for his coronation.”
“Is that what the guy at the costume shop fed you?" Chloe hoped her chuckle didn’t sound nervous. Or stupid.
“This is no gimmicky, run-of-the-mill mere ‘costume’ as you put it. You wouldn’t believe how authentic it is if I told you.”
“You’re way too dark and tall to pull off King Henry. And does Mom know you have Benji? We don’t know you well enough to just let you take him anywhere you want.”
“My original plan did not include bringing him here. It was necessary. Your sister left me with no other option.”
Chloe rolled her eyes at him. “He’ll stay with me. You’re free to go. Now, leave.”
“I want to ‘hang out’ with you, as you people say.”
“I don’t want to hang out.”
“I do.”
“And you always get what you want?”
“Yes, I mostly do.”
Those perfect teeth again.
“Listen, I’m busy. Go away.” She turned back to scan the crowd again.
“Do you think he’s over there?”
She turned on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just enjoying the festival. And I’d like to do it without you watching me do it. You should go. Benji and I’ll go home in a bit.” She stretched out her arms to catch Benji, and Horace lowered him into her hands.
“I don’t wanna go home. Can I have some candy?” She set Benji down on his own two feet.
“What would you plan for Todd if you found him?”
She pretended not to hear Horace and abandoned the tree to walk through the picnickers, pulling Benji along in one hand, carrying his backpack in the other.
“Quit following me. You’re stalking me again. I’ll call the cops.” She tried to sound firm. So he’d figured out what she was doing. Michelle probably told him that, too. At least she could get away from him and keep him from giving her away. He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
“I’m helping you, not stalking you.”
“This is not helping.” What if Todd sees me with another guy? But Horace? Tall, overdressed, older. Would Todd just laugh at her?
“Remember, I am the good guy. Haven’t we bonded with all we have been through together?”
She kept going, maneuvering through the crowd, towing Benji along. “Bonding. Is that what we did?” But then again, older means a real man. A handsome man. Maybe tall wasn’t so bad. And maybe his getup would show he’s creative, and a good sport.
“It is nice to see you with some energy. Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Okay. You’re on to me. Yes, I’m looking for Todd. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I find him. Maybe if he sees us together, it will catch his attention. Or maybe he’ll think I’m a desperate pathetic girl on a rebound date. I don’t know. What do you think? Should we look like a couple or should I get as far from you as I can?”
“Chloe, he came with another girl. You have to accept that.”
If he’d slugged her in the gut, it would have hurt less. It took a minute to be able to speak. When she did, it only came out in a whisper. “No. I don’t have to accept anything. Why would you tell me that?” She went to a bench in front of the Globe Stage and sat down hard.
Horace picked Benji back up and put him on his shoulder again so he could watch a satire acted out on the stage. Which was fine, because Chloe needed some time alone to compose herself. She looked the other way into the crowd, hoping to keep her ever-so-ready-to-spill tears inside her eyes.
A blond head of hair like Todd’s bobbed above a group several buildings away. Todd was tall enough that she could often spot him over other people. She jumped up but couldn’t see well enough, so she climbed up onto the bench and strained onto her toes.
“I’ll be back.” She jumped down and took off into the crowd. She zigged and zagged among the people, past artisan shops and street actors and musicians and hawkers. But she couldn’t find him. She circled around and made her way back to the bench, much slower on the return trip. Benji was standing on the bench alone still watching the show.
“Where did Horace go?”
Benji pointed into a crowd of people, but Chloe didn’t see him.
“He shouldn’t have left you here alone. He doesn’t know anything about kids.” She deflated onto the hot bench without an idea of what to do next. “Aren’t you melting in that?” she asked Benji, poking at his sleeves.
He shook his head, but kept his eyes on the juggler on the stage throwing flames through the air.
Within five minutes, Horace was back, holding three giant turkey legs in one fist and two cups balanced in the palm of the other.
“Hungry?”
Chloe narrowed her eyes and glared at him, ready to scold him for abandoning Benji, but the aroma of the meat sauce caught her nose and her stomach growled.
“What’s that?” She pointed to the cups with her chin.
“Beer. Apparently they brew it themselves. Let’s give it a try and see if it’s any good.”
“You keep forgetting. I’m only seventeen.”
“Only? I started drinking long before seventeen.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Like you’re a good example to follow.”
“Bibo ergo sum.”
“What is that? Sounds like Greek.”
He rattled off some other words that sounded even more foreign. “That, my dear, is Greek. The previous, Latin. I said, I drink, therefore I am.”
“What you ‘am’ is a giant lush. You drink way too much.”
“If you don’t want it, just say so. I’ll drink it for you. Benji has juice cartons in his backpack,” Horace said, like he was some kind of g
ood caretaker. “You can have one of those.”
Benji ate four bites of his drumstick, and Horace finished the rest. The juice and food put her mind on something else for a short reprieve. Before she knew it, thirty minutes had passed with them walking among the shops and stopping to watch an act here and there. After a short play, Chloe realized she’d forgotten to watch for Todd.
She looked up and scanned the crowd again. “I, um, need to find a bathroom.”
“He left.”
“Who left?”
“Todd.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“Benji exchanged words with him on our way in. He and the girl were exiting the gate.”
“You saw him and didn’t tell me?”
“I said he was with a girl.”
She hit him in the chest. She couldn’t help it.
“Why are you beating on me?” Horace said.
Chloe wanted to scream. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought Michelle told you that. Now I’ve wasted all this time.”
“Wasted? But I thought we were having fun. We were having fun, weren’t we, Benji Silly?”
Benji nodded.
Chloe threw her hands to her temples. “How is this supposed to help me here?”
“Help you what? What are you trying to accomplish? From what I understand, you’re lucky to have found out what he’s really like. You should walk away and be glad.”
“Glad?” she whispered. “We’re supposed to be together.”
“You want betrayal and disrespect and emotional abuse?”
Chloe stared at him. She had no answer. “I have to go. Come on, Benji. It’s time to go home.”
“Can I have a ride to Denver?” Horace asked. “I am finished here, if you are.”
She pulled Benji behind her into the parking lot and didn’t even turn around when she said, “Use your thumb.”
***
The next day, when Horatius arrived at Chloe’s house to escort her to work, her mother was wrestling with a lawnmower, trying to push it up the small hill of their front yard. The thick grass enveloped the mower in its high overgrowth. Completely inept, and even wearing sleepwear, she was losing the battle. When she lifted her knee for leverage, her bare foot emerged from the tall turf. She’d be lucky to still have ten toes when she finished.
Watching from the front porch was an old woman who was a wrinkled, colorless version of Chloe’s mom. She rocked a slow, steady rhythm back and forth on the glider bench, looking up from her needlework to check on the fight between the other woman, the mower, and gravity.
“I’d be pleased to do that for you,” Horatius said over the roar of the motor. He tipped his new Stetson back and removed his Ray-Bans.
She stopped, straightened back up with terrible effort and let out an exhausted breath. She was half way up the short hill, and he stood on the sidewalk, so their eyes were nearly on the same level. “Oh, I couldn’t let you do that,” she mouthed through the noise.
She was so pathetic, he couldn’t accept her protest and took the mower from her.
It turned off when she released the safety handle. “I don’t have any money to pay you,” she said.
“No need to worry about payment. Dum vivimus servimus. I live to serve.” And it wouldn’t hurt to do a good deed, after failing with Chloe yesterday.
“Well, I didn’t want to anyway. I’m only doing it because a neighbor complained.” She gave an exhausted smile then retreated to the front concrete steps to sit between the two giant concrete planters full of straggly geraniums. Ten minutes later, the small vertical squares of grass on both sides of the sidewalk were cut. The trim didn’t make up for the peeling paint and crumbling concrete. The house was a mess and Horatius hoped the girl’s life would be more easily repaired.
He pushed the mower to the side yard toward the garage and Chloe came onto the porch. This morning her eyes were brighter, like they’d been the day before at the Renaissance festival—a marked improvement over the days of coma-like desolation.
“Did you see that, Chloe? That tall colored boy mowed the lawn for your mother. He just walked up and took over.”
“Nana, we don’t say that anymore. He’s a friend of mine.” She let the screen door snap shut behind her.
Hmm, a friend of hers. I’m making progress.
“Is he our new gardener?”
“Nana, it’s okay. I have to go to work.” She clipped down the three steps in her bare feet and across the grass. Her sandals dangled from her fingers. She didn’t invite him to follow.
Well, maybe not that much progress.
“Did you finish the dishes?” Chloe’s mother called after her. When Chloe ignored her, she shrugged like Chloe always did and went inside.
Horatius touched his hat brim to the older woman then caught up with Chloe.
“How are you today?” he asked.
“What’s with the hat?”
“Do you like it?” It was a Stetson, like the cowboy’s he’d seen in the store.
She shrugged her shoulders and stepped down the curb to cross the street.
“I passed an establishment called Rockmount on my way back from the festival yesterday. I couldn’t resist it.” He pulled the hat down, tilting it slightly, and gave her a dashing gaze.
“I knew you’d find a ride.”
“I procured a bicycle. Men as large as I, who look like terrorists, dressed as King Henry, don’t get offered a ride.” To get the conveyance, he had transmuted an abandoned tire along the roadside into a bike. It depleted less energy since it was already partially the composition of what he needed.
Chloe refused to look at him. He righted the hat and put his Ray-Bans back on, realizing he was not going to get a smile from her.
She stammered a moment, as though she wanted to say something. He let the silence hang.
“That was nice of you to help my mom,” Chloe finally said.
“Faciam quodlibet quod necesse est.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m glad to help.” He wasn’t going to tell her what it really meant, that to win her over, he’d do whatever was necessary.
They walked in silence for another block.
“The house looks terrible. Nana hadn’t been able to take care of it for a long time before we moved in.”
“I could help. Some new paint and fixing those broken rain gutters will make a difference.”
They walked passed several more addresses.
“Mom’s having a hard time since Dad left. She hasn’t been doing very well on her own.”
“It is always a difficult thing when marriages fall apart.”
“We had to move in with Nana. Mom didn’t have the nerve to make him leave. So he gets the house, and we’re stuck squeezed into Nana’s broken-down old house.”
“That missing railing shouldn’t be too hard to replace. I can trim the tree tomorrow.”
That made Chloe stop. Three steps later he noticed and went back to where she stood.
“Where do you live? What do you do? Why were you in Scotland? How did you find me? Why are you helping me?”
“Not far from here. Over off Thirty-Eighth.”
She waited. “That only answers one of my questions.”
He tried her method and shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t you have something better to do?”
A million other things. Anything else. But he couldn’t admit that to her. “No.”
She started walking again. “I thought about what you said.”
“Which part?”
“About how Todd treats—treated me. I don’t want to need him so bad, you know. I just can’t help it. I’ve loved him since fifth grade. He made me feel special. He was always the one everyone wanted for a friend. Then he chose me. He promised he’d show me he loved me once we got engaged.”
“He will never do what he promised. He will only hurt you, and keep hurting you. The sooner you can break away and not let him determine
your worth, the better. If you want me to, I can—” he was going to say kill, but thought better of it “— beat him up.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid.”
“Not where I come from.”
“Well, it is here.” She laughed to herself. “But thanks for being willing to.”
The shift at the store went by easily. Chloe was surprised when the clock showed several hours had already passed. Somehow, Horace standing guard at the door felt good. She enjoyed looking over at him and smiling every once in a while. He kept tipping that new silly hat at her.
Business was constant. People bought gas. People bought lotto tickets and cigarettes. People bought junk food. Chloe collected their money. Horace greeted customers. Horace thanked customers. Horace even was actually kind of funny. He told one woman her baby was a fine specimen. The woman told him to stay away from her or she’d call the cops.
At midnight, Chloe’s relief came and she headed for home with Horace at her side.
“Better put your shoes back on. You can’t see what you are stepping on in the dark.”
“Yes, Mother,” Chloe said and she slipped her sandals back on. She didn’t think she needed to, but tonight she didn’t mind doing what he suggested. He was starting to seem kind of like a giant puppy dog trailing her everywhere she went. It wasn’t such a bad thing.
Four blocks from the store, a shadow stepped out of the alley. One of the gangbangers who’d held them up at the store. Chloe looked at Horace. He’d know what to do. He was way bigger than the kid in front of them.
But before she could catch his eye, four bullets slammed into his back.
CHAPTER 16
Chloe screamed. With each popping explosion, she screamed louder, ready to feel the bullet rip into her.
Horace collapsed flat on his face onto the sidewalk. Her screaming started again. She couldn’t stop it. It just shot out of her throat.
Hands grabbed her from behind and yanked her back into a throat lock. Her arms were trapped across her chest.
Someone yelled in her ear to shut up. She couldn’t. She had no control over the hysteria. Horace was dead on the ground next to her, and she’d be there soon, too. But not until after the “worse-than-death” stuff Horace had warned her about.
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