Magic Touch

by Treasure Hernandez

  “We about to make some good money,” Jayla changed the subject. “Holiday season is here, girl. Christmastime is busy and we can rack up.”

  “Really? I thought the opposite,” Simmy replied, tilting her head. “Don’t they hire much more security for Christmas time than normally? Won’t it be much more risky now?”

  Jayla’s eyes lowered, and she pursed her lips like she always did when she felt Simmy was being ungrateful. “So what if they hire more security? We are professionals. Or, wait, I’m a professional; maybe you’re still an amateur,” Jayla snapped, taking a dig at Simmy that she knew would usually bother her.

  Simmy set her jaw. “Amateur or professional, I still think holiday time is more risky,” she said, turning back to the window.

  “Well, either way, we’re going out there. Period. End of story.” With that, Jayla disappeared from the doorway.

  * * *

  When Jayla swung her newest Range Rover into the parking lot of the Mall at Short Hills in New Jersey, Simmy looked over at her.

  “We never go to Jersey,” Simmy said, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know we were going to Jersey.”

  “Ugh,” Jayla grumbled. “You’re getting on my nerves with all of these questions. That negative vibe is fucking bad juju, Simmy.”

  “I’m just asking because you always bypass Jersey. We’ve been to Connecticut, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, upstate, but never Jersey. I just always assumed there was a reason for that. That’s why I asked,” Simmy said.

  “Well, don’t ask. This is my business, and I make the decisions where we go. We in Jersey today and that’s that,” Jayla shot back. She sniffled and backhanded her wet nostrils. “Now, since we got that bullshit out of the way, you ready?” Jayla picked up her pocketbook and went to pull on her door handle.

  “Wait, what about our look?” Simmy asked, panic in her tone. Was Jayla slipping or what? She hadn’t told Simmy what type of mall they were hitting up. She hadn’t figured out what look was right for them for the day. Simmy hadn’t seen the list of things they needed to focus on getting so that they had a direction when they went into the stores. Nothing. No game plan. Jayla had failed to plan for the day’s work. It made Simmy uneasy. Very uneasy. She felt nauseated.

  Jayla fidgeted impatiently and seemed unable to keep still. Nothing about the day was right. Simmy didn’t like what she was seeing at all. Simmy was racking her brain trying to remember if Jayla was always like this and she was just too enamored with her to see it. Simmy didn’t like the feeling trampling through her gut. Was this what was meant when she’d always heard older people say they had a gut feeling?

  “It’s Jersey, Simone. We don’t need a look,” Jayla said, sucking her teeth. “Everybody and their mother come out here so no need to put on airs. Now, let’s go before you really blow my high and fuck up my vibe. You’ve been acting real stink lately and, for all that I do for you, I’m not really digging that vibe.”

  Simmy fell silent. She could see that Jayla was getting angry with her and she hated when that happened. Maybe Jayla was right. Maybe out of frustration for her own situation, Simmy had an attitude with Jayla for nothing. Simmy began second-guessing herself and scolding herself silently for coming across as ungrateful. Out of respect for Jayla and to keep arguments down, Simmy bit her tongue and didn’t ask any more questions. She dug into her Louis Vuitton monogrammed never-full tote and pulled out her silver Dior mirrored-front shades. Respect was one thing, but stupidity was a whole other story in Simmy’s eyes. And, just because Jayla wanted to be stupid, this was one time Simmy wasn’t going to follow her lead.

  With no list and no plan, Simmy and Jayla entered Neiman Marcus first. The store was packed with holiday shoppers who, like Simmy and Jayla, did not let the snow stop them from coming out. There were huddles of people at the jewelry counters and perfume counters. There seemed to be droves of women invading the handbags sections. Even the special salon brands, like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and Céline, which had their own separate rooms, had crowds gathered inside.

  Simmy was loving the beautiful silver, red, and green sparkly Christmas decorations that the store had chosen. It kind of made her sad. This was usually the time of year her father loved most. He’d take her around to different malls to shop, but really to see all of the lights and decorations. Simmy hadn’t even gone back to the big tree in Rockefeller Center since her father had gotten locked up. She just couldn’t bring herself to visit it without him.

  Simmy tried to shake off the foreboding feeling that had crept over her, but it didn’t work. Although Simmy and Jayla always acted like they weren’t together when they went on their trips, this time, Simmy felt like everyone in the store was watching her and Jayla. She tried again to shake off the dark feeling and the paranoia that was plaguing her, but she could swear each time Jayla passed, hushed murmurs and whispers rose and fell among some of the store associates. Even with the crowds, Simmy felt like all eyes were on them.

  Get your mind right, Simmy. It’s just your mind. You’re bugging. It’s nothing. She gave herself a pep talk. It was all she could do to keep from following her mind and bolting from the store.

  Simmy felt relieved when Jayla gave her the signal to split up into different areas of the store. It was their usual course of action; except, without their game plan mapped out like usual, Simmy had no idea where to meet Jayla at the end. And, she didn’t even ask.

  Simmy clutched her kitted-out bag, her shoulder bag, and a cute little stylish Louis Vuitton backpack, and she headed to the women’s shoes. Shoes were the easiest things to get. The crowded store would make it even easier.

  Simmy finished getting a few things she liked and rushed through the store for the escalators. Still feeling like she was being watched, sweat dripped down her back and soaked the waistband of her jeans. As she rode down, she heard it. At first, it sounded like arguing but the closer Simmy got to the bottom of the escalator, the more she recognized the voice.

  “Get off of me! Get the fuck off of me! She’s a liar! Y’all can’t fucking do this to me! Get off of me!”

  It was Jayla! Simmy’s entire body grew hot. She looked over her shoulder to see if she could escape back up. She was trapped on the escalator, people in front of her and people behind her. As the escalator continued its slow descent, Simmy felt like she was on a ride down to the fiery pits of hell. She felt lightheaded. She fanned her face with her hands in an attempt to keep herself from fainting. It was over. Simmy just knew they were going to come for her next.

  “Get off of me! I didn’t do anything!” Simmy could hear Jayla still fighting.

  Simmy stepped off the escalator and froze watching the nightmarish scene. Two store security guards dragged Jayla, kicking and screaming, through the store. The entire store seemed to be suspended in time, nothing moving. Everyone watched. Some people whispered. Others pointed. Some laughed. Simmy felt like all of the sounds were extra loud in her ears. Her brain was screaming, run! Run! You’re next! Run. She couldn’t move. It was as if her feet had suddenly grown roots and planted themselves into the floor. Her eyes were so wide she could feel her eyeballs drying out. Her heart jammed into her chest bone, and she could feel vomit creeping up her esophagus.

  “Always happens at this time of the year.”

  Simmy jumped at the sound of a girl’s voice. The girl was standing right next to her.

  “You better get out of here. You’re so close. Take that as a sign and run for those doors,” the strange girl said.

  Simmy snapped out of her trance. She rolled her eyes at the girl and sped for the doors. When Simmy got outside, she didn’t have time to stop and process what had just happened. She sprinted toward Jayla’s car but, as she approached it, she noticed two cop cars parked in front of it. Two officers circled the car and shined their flashlights into the windows.

  How did they know that was Jayla’s car? And, that fast?

  Simmy sucked in her breath and made a U-turn. She slowed down her pace
and hoped she hadn’t brought any attention to herself. She couldn’t process what was happening. Her head pounded, and she trembled so hard her teeth chattered uncontrollably. Simmy had to think fast. There was no time to feel sorry for herself or Jayla.

  Finally, her brain started working a little better. She dipped into Nordstrom and found the bathroom. In a huff, she rushed into the bathroom, raced down the long line of stalls, and pushed into the last stall at the end. Once inside, she locked the door and rested her back on the inside of the door. She exhaled loudly. It felt like the weight of the world had literally just fallen onto her shoulders.

  She closed her eyes and began to cry. She clasped her hand over her mouth and sobbed like she had just experienced death. That was exactly how she felt, like the chasm of a huge void had just opened up inside of her. Simmy had never thought about or planned for this day. She and Jayla had never made any contingency plans just in case one of them got caught. Simmy bit down on her bottom lip so hard she broke the skin. Reality was hitting her so hard she didn’t even feel the pain. The reality that, for the first time since she and Jayla had started boosting together, Simmy was alone.

  Chapter 8

  Wrong Path

  When Kyan pulled up, Simmy nearly bolted into a full run to get to his car. Her legs moved so fast. She didn’t know a person could walk so fast without actually running. Her lips were white from breathing so hard through her mouth, and her hands still wouldn’t stop shaking. She looked around frantically before she snatched the door open and rushed into the car.

  “Thank you,” she huffed, as she flopped down heavily into the passenger seat. “I . . . really appreciate you coming all the way out here to get me.” Simmy was speaking, but she stared straight ahead, unable to look at Kyan. The shame of what happened was almost too much to bear. She knew Kyan was mad because, no matter what, he opened his car door for her, but this time he hadn’t. Simmy could feel the heat of his gaze on her face, but she still would not look at him.

  “So?” Kyan said, reaching down and turning his music down. “What do you have to say?”

  Simmy pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled a windstorm of breath. She knew the lecture would be coming. She felt too mentally exhausted to argue with him. “Kyan, you already know what it is. We talked about this. This is how I’ve been surviving. I don’t have a choice. You can’t believe that I want to be out here stealing shit and being put in situations like this. Stuff happens. I didn’t have any control over it.”

  “But, now you see where it could lead, right? You think your cousin hasn’t been bagged before? You dodged a bullet and by a real slim margin, Simone. You definitely ain’t cut out to be locked up, especially all the way out here,” he said, his tone preachy.

  Simmy bit down into her jaw. “I’m not a little kid who doesn’t know right from wrong, Kyan. Yes, I always knew where it could lead but, like you with your hustle, it’s what I do to eat. Please don’t judge me,” Simmy said, annoyed and on the brink of more tears. She thought he had some nerve. Still, she wouldn’t get too mouthy with him because she was grateful he’d come all the way out there when she called.

  There was a long, awkward silence. Simmy’s mind raced with a million thoughts: how am I going to get Jayla out? Where did they take her car? Can they even do that? Did anyone know I was with Jayla? Where am I going to stay? Will she get right out? They can’t really keep her that long, right?

  “So what exactly happened? How she let herself get bagged like that?” Kyan broke the silence and Simmy’s train of thought.

  “Ugh. It was so bad.” Simmy sighed. “It’s just so crazy. I feel like it is my fault. I should’ve just followed my first instinct,” Simmy said, her words coming out on a long exhale of breath.

  “First instinct?”

  “Yeah. From the gate, when Jayla said we was going out, I felt leery about today. It is the holidays, for one. I know this is a time when the stores really ramp up their security. She argued with me about that. Then, I could see that Jayla wasn’t her usual, sharp self. Since I been staying with her, I’ve noticed that she has a bit of an alcohol and powder problem,” Simmy said, touching her nose for emphasis.

  Kyan’s eyebrows shot up into arches, and he shook his head like a disappointed father.

  “We ain’t have no direction, no plan, nothing. I should’ve known that was a bad sign. I should’ve fought her on it and insisted that we go another day. Like I said, I should’ve followed my first instinct or, like the old people say, my gut feeling,” Simmy lamented, shaking her head.

  “So why did you go?” Kyan pressed.

  Simmy shrugged. She had asked herself that same question at least fifty times while she hid out in the Nordstrom bathroom waiting for Kyan’s call after Jayla’s arrest. She’d come up short on an intelligent answer every time. How would she look saying that she ignored her instincts and went all because she hated when Jayla was mad at her? All because she wanted to always be on Jayla’s good side because, up until that moment, Jayla was the only person she looked up to? Instead, Simmy closed her eyes and leaned back on the headrest, her head pounding with a migraine.

  “Well, why did you go?” Kyan asked again, this time more bass in his voice.

  “Because I always feel obligated and indebted to my cousin. She looked out when no one else did. She helped me put money in my pocket and in the process I was able to shit on a few chicks with my wears. So, I have a hard time telling her no. Even when I am not feeling the situation, like today, ” Simmy confessed. She told him half of the truth.

  “So, in other words, you gave in to her peer pressure?” Kyan replied, his statement more of a question. “When you don’t even have to do that? You got such mad resources available to you, me for one, that you don’t have to ever give in to anyone’s peer pressure, Simone.”

  Simmy sucked her teeth. Was he serious? Kyan’s apparent unwillingness to understand frustrated Simmy. “It wasn’t peer pressure, Kyan. It was loyalty. Trust. Respect. Love. You know anything about those things? Probably not. You probably never felt indebted to anyone, so you wouldn’t understand it,” she snapped.

  “Nah, being a fool ain’t the same as loyalty, trust, respect, and love. You can have all that without following somebody down the wrong path. I mean, how much loyalty, trust, respect, and love does she have for you if she taking you down that same wrong path? Think about that, Simone. As a big cousin, Jayla shouldn’t even want you to be out here getting it like this. I say you got too much going for yourself to waste it on some bullshit clothes. You get arrested for grand larceny and get a record, then what? What happens to all of that reading and studying you been doing over the years? It goes to waste; that’s what happens. Then you’ll really be like Jayla, with a rap sheet and can’t get a job, forced to boost clothes for a living for the rest of your life. Always wondering where your next dollar coming from. C’mon, man, that ain’t the life you want. I swear, I miss coming on the block and seeing you on your grandmother’s stoop with your nose in a book. Who cares about wears, when I’ve already told you I thought you were beautiful then and now?”

  “You thought I was beautiful but never really said a word to me until I started dressing better,” she grumbled. Even after all Kyan had said, that was Simmy’s flimsy response. She knew he was right and she hated to admit it.

  “I didn’t step to you then because I knew you were a good girl and I didn’t want to corrupt you. But, I couldn’t shake the feelings, so I decided to finally do it. I love you, Simone,” Kyan said sincerely.

  Simmy squeezed her eyes shut, but the tears still came hard and fast. “I’m not the same person you used to see, Kyan. I’m not the so-called good girl you think I am,” she whimpered.

  “You are the same good girl; you just got caught up. I don’t want that type of girl. I want that smart, always-reading, always-focused girl back.”

  Simmy swallowed hard. She didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t often that she was at a loss for words;
but, this time, she was. She didn’t know if that old girl lived inside of her anymore. She just didn’t know.

  “You’re going back to my crib,” Kyan announced, breaking another long silence that had settled in the car.

  “No. I really need to go back to Jayla’s. I have to figure this all out.”

  “Ain’t nothing to figure out. You’re out of that business, and I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to start going back to school every day and concentrate on graduating. Period. End of story.”

  Simmy didn’t say another word, nor did she protest. She didn’t have many options at this time. Maybe having someone take care of her was what she needed.

  When they arrived at his place, it felt like forever since Simmy had been there. She looked around, trying to see if she spotted any long hairs, lipstick-stained glasses, or any other remnants of a recent female guest. There was nothing.

  “You looking around like you a DT,” Kyan chuckled. “You ain’t gonna find nothing, Sherlock Holmes. You keep trying to make me the bad guy. I’m the good guy,” he said, coming up and hugging her from behind. “And I fucking missed you like crazy.”

  Simmy blushed. “I wasn’t looking for nothing,” she lied. She inhaled his scent and closed her eyes. A smile spread over her lips and, for the first time in the hours since Jayla’s arrest, Simmy relaxed a little bit.

  “Yeah, right, that’s why your eyes moving a mile a minute around the room?” He squeezed her tighter. “C’mere, Detective Jones.” He turned her around so he could hug her from the front. He swallowed her body with his embrace. “I can’t say enough how much I fucking missed you,” he whispered into the top of her head. “I don’t ever want us to be apart for that long again. Fuck staying in Harlem. You a Brooklyn girl. You belong in Brooklyn.”