by Carrie Mac
Zoe floated inside, and immediately came crashing down to earth. Alice was curled up on the couch, clutching a box of tissue, sobbing, empty beer cans scattered on the carpet and coffee table. Cassy was squatting in the middle of the floor pulling stuffing out of a pillow and carefully distributing it around the room. Fluffs of it decorated the plants, the carpet, and the top of the TV, which was muted on a talk show, two junkie twins with buzzcuts lunging at each other. Zoe turned it off, picked up Cassy and waited for Alice to say something.
“Don’t ask me, okay?” Alice blinked up at her. She peeled herself off the couch, and headed for the stairs, clutching the box of tissue. “Just don’t.”
“Ask me!” Zoe screamed at her. “Ask me for once!”
Alice paused at the landing, hand steadying herself against the wall. All weepy and puffed-up, she shook her head. “Not right now, hon, okay?”
un-initiation
By the next Friday, Zoe and Leaf and Simon had convinced April to come back to school. Until then, she’d left home in the morning and waited in the playground for her parents to leave for work, and then went back home. She only agreed to come back to school because Teo offered to be her personal bodyguard, now that football was over with and he had the time. Everywhere she went, he went.
Zoe never went anywhere alone either. At least one of the boys went with her everywhere too, usually Leaf.
The night of Wish’s show, April came over to watch the kids at Zoe’s house, because the band was going back to Wish’s after and they’d wake the babies, no doubt. April had been invited to go, but her parents wouldn’t let her. They thought Wish’s band was satanic. April insisted that she didn’t think the same, but she wasn’t very convincing. That night Simon and Teo were in Vancouver for a Queerlings glow-in-the-dark bowling fundraiser that Simon was dragging Teo to, very much against his will. So, it was just Leaf and Zoe going. That was fine by Zoe; that meant it was kind of a date. They rode with Wish and T-Bone in the tow-truck to the Agriplex, which was out by the highway.
The Agriplex was built like a giant red barn, only it was meant for concerts and exhibitions and didn’t smell of cow shit, thankfully. Leaf and T-Bone starting lugging in the equipment, while Zoe stayed with Wish, who had thrown up twice behind the tow-truck.
“Nerves,” Wish mumbled, wiping her mouth with a tissue. Leaf came back and helped Wish to sit on the bumper of the tow-truck. She held her hand away from her mouth just long enough to gulp and say, “I get the worst stage fright.”
“I’ve heard if you stick your head between your knees it helps,” Zoe said.
Wish shook her head and swallowed. “That would just make me throw up again.”
Zoe and Leaf enticed Wish into the building with promises of bottled water and ice. She sat with them backstage while T-Bone and the rest of the band finished the sound check. Leaf rubbed her shoulders as he watched the people coming in. All of a sudden he stopped. “Uh-oh. Look.”
“What?” Wish lifted her head.
He pointed. “Trouble.”
Beck and Brady and the rest of the Beckoners were at the admission table, fishing in their pockets for money. Brady was doing his weird slouch-walk, the one that looked okay in LA gangsta movies but looked plain idiotic in Abbotsford, especially with his pants jailing so low it was a miracle they weren’t around his ankles.
“Did they know you were going to be here?” Leaf turned to Zoe.
“I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Who are they?” Wish had taken off her glasses for the show. She squinted at the Beckoners.
“Spawn of Satan,” Leaf said.
“Evil incarnate,” Zoe said.
“Whatever.” Wish looked away. “So long as they pay to get in, I don’t care who they are.”
“Don’t worry,” Leaf assured Zoe after Wish finally made it onto the stage. “We could always sic T-Bone on them.”
“What would he do?” Zoe said. “Assault them with some of his ancient Buddhist wisdom? Thanks anyway. I’ll just lay low.”
The second Wish started to sing—if screeching qualified as singing—her stage fright evaporated and she careened around the stage like she was on speed. They weren’t very musical though, or maybe they were, but the treble disappeared into the rafters, so all Zoe could hear was a loud echo of what she imagined it was supposed to sound like. On the other hand, the crowd loved them. A mosh pit at the foot of the stage was a steaming mess of arms and legs so tangled you couldn’t tell who belonged to what limb. Pop and smuggled-in booze sloshed out of bottles and cans; people bashed into each other like it was a newly discovered mating ritual. When Brady hurled his third beer bottle onto the stage, just missing T-Bone’s face by a whisper, Wish stopped singing, a wail of feedback piercing the air.
“That’s it, I’ve had it!” She hollered into the microphone. “Go pull your dicks somewhere else, right? I don’t need this shit.” She threw up her hands and stomped off the stage.
“Uh, we’ll have an intermission now,” T-Bone mumbled into his mike. The rest of the band stared at the crowd for a second, and then set down their gear and followed Wish into the wings.
The crowd emptied out the front doors, spilling into the cold evening and congregating in little cliques in the parking lot. The Beckoners were the first out the door, once Brady stopped swearing at Wish, so Leaf and Zoe jumped off the front of the stage and picked up all the garbage while the coast was clear. When they’d filled two big bags with plastic cups and other debris, including two pairs of underwear and a retainer, they hauled them out the back door to the garbage bins. Just as they turned to go back in, Beck and Lindsay came around the side of the building.
“Too bad you never grew those eyes in the back of your head.” Beck stepped in front of Zoe, blocking the door.
“Get out of our way.” Leaf stepped closer to Zoe.
Beck held out her hand. “You must be Leaf.”
Leaf folded his arms tight across his chest. Beck kept her hand suspended between them for a long second and then dropped it slowly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Leaf. Zoe talks a lot about you.”
“I don’t, Leaf. She’s lying.”
Leaf glanced at Zoe. “Zoe talks a lot about you too.”
“Really? I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“It’s a bad thing,” Leaf said. “Get out of our way.”
Beck stepped aside, nodding for Lindsay to do the same.
“If you don’t mind, Leaf, we need to have a little chat with Zoe. It’ll just take a minute.”
“I’m not her keeper.” Leaf glanced at Zoe again, his eyes dark. “But I don’t think she’s interested in having a little chat with you.”
“Zoe?”
Zoe shook her head, inching closer to Leaf and the door. “Some other time?”
“Some other time?” Beck laughed. “I’m not asking you over for tea and cookies here. This isn’t a whenever’s-good-for-you situation. I have things to say to you. Now, and only now, works for me. Understand?”
“Now doesn’t work for us.” Leaf pulled open the heavy door and waited for Zoe to go in ahead of him. Zoe didn’t move.
“I think I want to get this over with, Leaf.”
“That’s my girl.” Beck patted Zoe’s shoulder and smiled at Leaf. “Don’t you worry about your little girlfriend. We’re not going to do anything to her that she isn’t expecting. We just need to sort out some business.”
“Zoe, I’m not okay with this.”
“Neither am I!” Zoe whispered.
“So come back inside.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away.
“I just want it to be over with.”
“Are you sure?”
Zoe nodded. “The waiting is worse. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“We’ll be twenty minutes, tops,” Beck said. “Then the Beckoners will leave you alone for good. You were a bad investment, that’s all. End of story.”
Leaf looked at Zoe, his
brow furrowed. “Twenty minutes?”
“Not a minute more, lover boy.” Beck flashed him a smile. “Promise.”
Leaf looked from Zoe to Beck, to Lindsay, and then shook his head.
“No. No way. I go too, or it’s not happening.”
“That’s very sweet of you.” Beck smiled again. “Very chivalrous. But that’s not an option. This is between Zoe and the Beckoners. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Then forget it.” Leaf grabbed Zoe’s hand.
“I just want it over, Leaf.” She pulled away. “If it’s not now, it’ll be some other time when you’re not around. At least now you know what’s happening. She says twenty minutes. If I’m not back, you can come for me.”
“Twenty minutes.” Leaf took her hand and squeezed it. “That’s it.” He checked his watch, kissed her, and then went back inside, the door slowly closing behind him.
Beck and Lindsay walked on either side of Zoe, like wardens escorting a prisoner. They led her around the building to the back of the parking lot, where the rest of the Beckoners were waiting, perched on the back of Brady’s truck, passing around a mickey of whiskey.
Janika held it out to her. “You might want some of this.”
“No, thanks.” The smell took her back to Beck’s birthday party, the smashed bottle on the floor, Malcolm singing in his high thin voice.
Heather shook the bottle in Zoe’s face. “Last chance,” she sang, some of the whiskey sloshing onto Zoe’s shirt.
Zoe swallowed hard, the smell making her gag. “Can we get this over with?”
“Sure we can.” Beck pulled something out of her backpack. “This won’t take long at all.” Beck was not holding scissors. She was opening her jackknife. Zoe’s hand flew up to her braids.
“Whoa, wait a minute. You’re going to use that?”
“What else would I use?”
“Scissors?”
The Beckoners laughed. Lindsay slapped Zoe’s hand away from her hair.
“She thinks we’re going to cut off her hair, like Lisa.”
“You’re not?” Zoe put her hands up, as if she was being held at gunpoint. “Then what the hell are you planning to do with the knife?”
“Edit,” Beck said.
“What?”
“Your scar, the one we let you have, the one we trusted you with, our mark? You’re not entitled to it anymore. Really, you never were.”
“It won’t be any worse than the initiation.” Janika jumped down from the truck. “You go along with this, and we’re done. We won’t have anything to do with you anymore. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“You’ll leave April alone too?”
“Go along with this now,” Janika said, “without a fight, and we’ll leave you alone for good.”
“Yeah,” Lindsay cut in, “but if you don’t, we’ll hunt you, bitch. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Zoe just wanted it over with. “Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut and held out her arm. “Do it.” She waited, heart pounding, anticipating the sudden slice of skin, the shock of pain. Nothing happened. Zoe kept her eyes shut.
“Do it, Beck.” That was Jazz.
Then Lindsay. “Go ahead, Beck. Do it!”
Zoe did not want to open her eyes. She could not watch, but what was happening? She heard Heather come forward; she could tell by the sound of her high heel boots on the cement.
“What are you waiting for, Beck? Give me the knife.” Heather grabbed it from her. “I’ll fucking do it. Hold her arm, Lindsay.” Lindsay gripped Zoe so hard she could feel the blood slow down at her wrist.
She opened her eyes. She hadn’t meant to. It was instinct. She saw Heather gripping the knife, knuckles white. Beck was backing away, eyes on Zoe. Zoe glanced down at her pale white arm just as Heather pressed the knife to it and sliced a deep line diagonally across the scar, and then quickly again the other way, a bloody X.
“Shit,” Janika breathed out the word. “We weren’t going to do it that deep!” She shoved Heather and Lindsay out of the way. Heather dropped the knife and stared at Zoe, transfixed.
“That’s what you get.” Her voice wavered. “Now we’re even.” Zoe felt woozy, like she might tip over if even the slightest breeze came up. She pressed her hand to the cuts, blood streaming through her fingers, dripping onto the knife splayed at her feet, onto the cement in fat dark splotches.
“Let’s go!” Brady leapt out of the back of the truck and into the cab. “Come on!”
“Here.” Janika pulled off her bandana, untied it and folded it lengthwise. She cinched it over the X. “Hold it tight.”
Heather had stopped staring at Zoe and was now staring at the blood seeping through the cloth and running down Zoe’s arm, dripping off her fingertips.
“Come on!” Lindsay picked up the knife, wiped it on her jeans and pulled Heather away.
“You’ll be okay,” Janika said. “You’ll be fine.” She climbed into the truck and they sped off, tires screeching.
Zoe stood still for a moment, deliriousness slipping over her like a shroud. Her knees buckled and she landed hard on the ground, her hip hitting a concrete divider on the way down. The pain of that was nothing compared to her arm.
She lay there, hand clamped on her arm, conscious of every breath she let out, but not aware of much else. She didn’t move until she could hear Leaf calling her name across the parking lot, the thin thump of T-Bone’s bass echoing behind him.
“Here,” Zoe mumbled. “I’m over here.”
He couldn’t hear her at first, but eventually his search brought him closer. He called her name again, panic rising in his voice. Zoe pulled herself up onto the divider. She had intended to stand, but she was so tingly she worried that if she got up onto her feet she’d just keel over again.
“I’m here!” She called as loud as she could. He saw her and sprinted over, taking it all in: the blood, the bandana, her skin, blue-white like powdered milk.
“What did they do to you?” He pulled the bandana away, the tug opening the wound again. He tossed the blood-soaked cloth into the bush, and then stripped off his Ramones shirt, ripped a length off the bottom and used it to tie the rest of the shirt around her arm. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“I don’t want to go to a hospital.” Zoe felt four years old, small and helpless.
“You need stitches, Zoe.”
“No hospital.”
“I’ll take you to the free clinic then, okay?”
“Okay.” Zoe was so terribly, horribly, awfully tired. She just wanted to lie down, rest her head on her good arm and go to sleep. It was all over. The Beckoners were done. She’d survived. Roll the credits. Drop the curtain. Up the lights.
The nurse at the clinic gave Zoe thirty stitches and did not believe for one second that she had slashed herself, which is what Zoe told her. The nurse had Zoe draw an X with her left hand, the one she would’ve had to have used. She couldn’t do it neatly, let alone with any control. The nurse pursed her lips and sewed Zoe up, all the while carrying on an elaborate conversation over her head with Leaf about asinine gang practices, the dangers of tetanus, and the stench of rotting gangrenous limbs.
“Sorry about your shirt, Leaf.” Zoe sipped the apple juice the nurse gave her in the waiting room after, along with a packet of cookies the nurse said she had to eat before she was allowed to leave. The sugar would help her body work to replace the blood she’d lost. “It’s ruined.”
“Never mind that.” He pushed a lock of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t care about the shirt.”
“You do so.”
“Okay, so I do. I’ll have a little cry later on in private, but hey, guess what? I’ve got good news for you.”
“Brady’s truck exploded and all the Beckoners died in a ball of flames?”
“No. The good news is that you still have your hair.”
“Nah.” Zoe fingered ends of her braids. “The good news is that it’s finally,
completely over. Let’s go home and tell April.”
Zoe and Leaf launched into their story before they even got their coats off, but April was in a hurry to leave.
“I have to go.” She pulled on her coat. “The babies are asleep in Alice’s bed.” She pushed past Zoe to the door.
“Stop, April.” Zoe grabbed her. “Don’t you get it? It’s over.”
“That’s great.” April opened the door.
“That’s it? I get thirty stitches for you and that’s all you have to say?”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said, and then she left.
Zoe and Leaf looked at each other, eyebrows raised, and then went upstairs to check on the kids.
by streetlight
Teo called the mess on Zoe’s arm her beauty mark. Simon called it the alien probe site. Leaf did his best to avoid mentioning it, and April never talked about it at all. In fact, she wasn’t talking to Zoe much at all those days. Neither was Alice, for that matter. How could Alice not notice something was wrong? Before Zoe got the stitches out, she’d walk around clutching her elbows to keep from picking at them, and yet Alice floated around the house like she lived there all by herself. This was a problem. The day after Zoe got her stitches out, she came home and found Cassy squatting on the counter beside the stove, all four elements glowing orange hot. Alice was in the living room talking on the phone.
“Mom!” Zoe whisked Cassy off the counter with her good arm and dumped her on the linoleum. Cassy started to cry.
“Hon, is that you?” Alice pulled the phone away from her ear and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Would you see what Cassy’s crying about? I’m on the phone.”
That’s for sure. On the phone all the time. Zoe couldn’t remember the last time her mother actually cooked a real meal, or cleaned the toilet bowl, or asked her how her day at school was, or if she was surviving at all or was slowly dying before her very own oblivious eyes.
