Heart of Gold

by Michaela Haze

  Elliot Gold has surprised me. In a world where nothing did.

  I had chosen the right time to leave, even though the phone call from Mama had demanded it.

  Shame swathed me.

  I’d parted my legs like a cheap whore. Just like Mama.

  I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest as I walked back to Rina’s home. Her house on Goldryn Row was only two down from the Gold Manor, but each house was ostentatiously big so it took longer to pass each one. I reached into my clutch purse and took out a scrap of paper with the alarm code on. Going around the back of the house, my stomach churned in painful hunger. I should have eaten more of the appetisers, but strangely enough the champagne had been easier to get a hold of than any food.

  Mama's voice echoed through my mind; playing her brief phone call repeatedly.

  I'm in trouble, Harry. Get y'ass back here this instant.

  The trouble was that her words could have meant all manner of things. Maybe she couldn’t open her bottle of Jack. I snorted to myself.

  I was going to cry if I didn’t laugh.

  I couldn’t do it anymore. Mama had taken my money and my escape. Poisonous hate raced through my veins and drained any sort of love that I had felt for her.

  I couldn’t endure her toxicity. I had told myself that she loved me. That she was my Mama and you only get one. I told myself these things when I thought back on every shameful facet of my life.

  When I was eleven and social services were called to the school because my uniform was dirty and my hair was dreadlocked from neglect.

  I had lied then. I got better at hiding her abuse. I wish I’d let them take me because it got worse.

  Don't think about Garrett...

  It had started with the occasional slap if I said something she didn’t like. I suggested that she come to a parent teacher conference once. Ms. Markell wanted to tell her all about the creative writing award that I’d won.

  Mama had dug her nails so deeply into the fleshy meat of my thigh that day that she had drawn blood. I still remember the bitter and arid scent of tequila on her breath as she snarled in my face.

  I ain't going to a godforsaken meeting to hear about how fucking stupid you are, Harry!

  My stomach dropped when another voice joined her. Elliot Gold's.

  That stupid waitress and her idiot smiles.

  Such an immature comment, but I felt like I had been poisoned with it. My entire life was a snakebite of nastiness with no one to suck out the venom.

  I was stupid. I was a waitress on minimum wage, and not even a manager. I earned cash under the table because I didn’t have a social security number.

  I wanted to fly away and leave Goldryn Bois behind.

  But my dreams would be just that. Dreams.

  The hem of my gown was wet and dragged behind me as I walked into Rina’s mansion.

  I didn’t care that Mama was in trouble.

  I was going to take a night for myself. I was going to sleep in a comfortable bed, with expensive sheets and in the morning, I was going to let the Langley’s chef make me eggs Benedict.

  It was a small act of rebellion, but it gave me the strength to push away my dark thoughts.

  Rina stumbled in at four in the morning, with lipstick on the side of her neck. She climbed into bed beside me.

  “Harry?” She whispered.

  My eyes fluttered, groggy from sleep and the swirling promise of a hangover.

  “What, Ri-Ri?”

  “I did something really stupid.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, rolling over to face her. Rina was still in her lace, poofy ball gown. Her eyes were glassy as she eyed the ceiling.

  “Julian Gold caught me with a woman.” Rina's voice was devoid of emotion. “He walked in... When we were, y'know?”

  “You’re bi-sexual. It’s not a crime.” I replied.

  “He’s going to tell people. Daddy will find out.” She chewed her thumbnail nervously.

  “Oh, Rina.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. Tears leaked from her eyes and dropped onto my bare shoulder. I held her close and let her cry.

  “I don’t know Julian Gold, but if he tells everyone you’re Bi, we'll just tell everyone that he has syphilis.” I promised.

  Rina snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

  “It’s such a shame that the youngest Gold has lost his mind to an STD.” I mocked with a pout.

  “I can’t deny my sexuality and I can't lie to cover it up.” Rina sighed heavily. She leant back and put her head in her hands. “I’m such a fuck up, Harry.”

  Wait, what? “Ri-Ri, you’re the most put together person I know.”

  She rubbed her face and smeared her cat-eyeliner. “Fake it till you make it.” She said with a watery smile.

  I returned her smile, tentatively, and nodded in agreement.

  “What happened?” Rina asked, swiftly changing the subject. “You left so early. I lost track of you after you jumped into Ms Mallory's line of fire.”

  I shook my head and allowed my gaze to drift. “It’s been a long evening.”

  Rina quirked a brow and rolled her hand to invite me to continue.

  “Elliot Gold.” I said by way of explanation.

  “The Iceman, huh?”

  “I don’t understand why he has that nickname.” I looked down to my hands as I fiddled with the edge of Rina’s Egyptian cotton sheets. “He can’t keep his mouth shut and says whatever pops into his head, no matter how offensive. Blunt. Or hurtful. But he's not cold.”

  Rina looked at me in pity. “Elliot’s got secrets.” She fluffed my hair like I was a child.

  I got the impression that there was more to Elliot's story than she was willing to share. I opened my mouth to ask, but then closed it just as quick.

  Without another word, we both curled up and fell asleep next to each other, in Rina’s four poster Queen sized bed.

  Rina dropped me off at the end of Dooley Road after filling me full of orange juice, eggs and Advil for my hangover. I refused to let her drive any closer, mostly because I didn’t want any of the inhabitants of the trailer park seeing me being dropped off in an expensive BMW.

  Just another reminder of how far apart our worlds were.

  Mama had already rinsed my savings. She’d probably already spent it too.

  My fists clenched and my flip-flops slapped against the heel of my feet as I strode to my house with purpose. Not two days prior had I almost reached my target amount.

  One of the main reasons that I needed so much to be able to move was because I needed to buy a social security number. I’d never had one, mainly because I didn’t have a birth certificate.

  I'd ask Mama once, when I got old enough to take my driving test. Let me tell you, it's hard to walk five miles to school with taped up ribs.

  When I rounded the corner of the trailer park and reached our plot, I noticed that the wind chimes that I had hung by the entrance had been torn down. I bit back the hurt that blossomed in my chest. I’d painted the bamboo myself in wood shop glass back in high school.

  It was midday, which meant that Mama should have been in bed hungover, or in the Steel Trap drinking to stop the shakes. Instead, I heard the shrill voice of some talk show host on the television.

  I didn’t like confrontation, but as I stood in the doorway and watched the back of Mama’s head as she lifted a bottle of Jack to her lips and slung back the amber liquid, I fucking hated her more than anything in the world.

  I ground my teeth to try and alleviate the ache in my jaw. My nails bit into the palm of my hands and my face flushed red with my anger. I could feel the crimson blush rise from my shoulders and cover my face until I couldn’t see through the red haze. My eyes watered. I tasted hot metal on my tongue.

  “W-Why?” I said, my words were broken and disjointed as I pushed them out. They caught on the sides of my throat and I coughed to clear it. “Why did you take my money, Mama?” I asked in a stronger voice.
r />   There was a long second where the only sound in the trailer was the tinny voice of a celebrity on the TV. Mama did not acknowledge my existence as she raised the bottle of her lips and drained it of its contents without flinching.

  Her head turned first, then her shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot but narrowed at me. I could feel her disgust rolling off her in waves.

  “Where the fuck were ya last night?” Her voice was accusing. “You been fucking around again, just like you fucked around with Garrett? Or Paul? Or Steve?”

  “I’m not you.” I snarled.

  Without warning, Mama launched the empty bottle of Jack at my head. It missed by a foot and slammed into the screen door behind me. I hadn’t even had enough time to duck. Glass burst over the cheap carpet and Mama pushed herself up, swaying to the side.

  I had had enough. I eyed her and was unable to help the scoff of disgust that came through my throat as I took her in rat’s rest of dyed blonde hair, and her line of dark roots at the scalp. She wore a nude camisole nighty that stopped at mid-thigh. The string had fallen from one shoulder and her nipple was loose. I turned to walk away. Determined to get behind the lock on my bedroom door.

  I had thought that she was too drunk to do much. I shouldn’t have underestimated her. Her hand gripped the hair at the base of my neck and Mama pulled me back. She weighed more than me, despite her short frame. My feet scrambled as I tried to pull away from her hold. I felt the sting of broken glass in the arch of my foot and cried out. My scalp burnt and the day’s old bruise on my hairline throbbed.

  “Get the fuck off me, Mama!” I shrieked. My hands went behind my head to try and untangle her fist, when I felt a warm weight on my eye. Saliva dripped from my lashes and made me gag. She’d spat on me.

  Her teeth were yellow pegs, and her face was upside down as she looked down at me.

  “You’re the reason Daniel left me.” Mama’s grey eyes were inches from mine. Her free hand gripped my throat and my eyes bulged as I fought for breath around her tight grip. With her hands on either side of my neck, one strangling me and the other in my hair, I couldn’t move my head.

  “Pop killed himself!” I struggled against her hold. “It wasn’t my fault.” Her grip tightened and my breath was stolen.

  “He killed himself because of you!”

  Black spots danced over my vision and I could hear his voice as it echoed through my mind as if he had set up residence in my ear drums.

  “I can’t do it anymore, Gilly. I gotta come clean. We shouldn’t have done it. We’re gunna go to jail, Gilly.”

  “Give me the gun, Darrel.”

  “I can’t do it anymore, Gilly.”

  I was torn from my memories as Mama tossed me away from her, taking a clump of my hair from the base of my scalp as she pushed me away. My stomach slammed into the corner of the kitchen counter and my lungs felt like thousands of fire ants had crawled into them.

  “Why did you take my money, Mama?” I wheezed. “Why do you hate me so goddamn much?!”

  The large pot that I’d cooked my mashed potatoes in the day before was still on the stove.

  The answer to my question slammed into the side of my head when Mama knocked me unconscious with it and I landed amongst the broken glass.

  I had woken up alone on the floor; my head pounded and my stomach clenched in agony. The only positive was that my face hadn’t been cut open on remnants of shattered Jack bottle on the floor. Dosed up on Tylenol, I wasted money that I didn’t have to spare getting to work by taxi.

  I’d been sick when I had woken up, yellow bile and black goo. I had a cut on the sole of my foot and it throbbed something awful. Luckily, it had stopped bleeding though.

  My stomach gnawed at itself in hunger but my head swirled and revolted against the idea of food.

  I was lucky. It could have been worse.

  It was difficult to move, but I forced myself to do it. I went into work like nothing was wrong.

  My shift had started at 3pm, and I took my break as the sun started to set. It was late summer, and I sat on the corner stoop around the back of the diner. Francois had made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but every bite felt like chewing rubber. My taste buds were off, and my jaw ached, taking any pleasure that I could have gotten from filling my stomach.

  I watched as a customer walked around the corner of the diner, searching for something. It had happened before, so I cleared my throat.

  “Hi. Hello.” I said to gain the man’s attention. “You can’t get to the bathrooms this way. You’ll have to go through the front.”

  The man was middle-aged and the shadows hid his face from me until he came closer. The set of his shoulders broadcast confidence and a stab of fear attached itself to my heart.

  He stepped under the dim light and I eyed the man suspiciously. He looked dangerous with a scar on his cheek that looked like a dimple, as well as his neatly trimmed beard.

  Southern manners told me that he should have alerted me to his presence, or at least explained why he had snuck around the back of a roadside diner and scared a waitress.

  I rubbed my clammy hands against my gingham apron and stood up.

  The man smiled slowly as his eyes raked from my short skirt and then up to my eyes.

  “You’re Harriet Thompson?” He asked in a low voice.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Who are you?”

  He laughed to try and defuse the tension I felt. I gripped the edge of my ceramic plate to my chest, and winched when it pressed against the bruise on my stomach. “I’m Daniel Davis, a friend of your moms.”

  “I’m not five, Mr Davis.” I said in a haughty tone as I took a step back across the threshold. “Knowing my Mama isn’t a ringing endorsement for you.”

  “Bless your heart.” He shook his head. “Your ‘Mama’ told me that I could find you here.”

  I cleared my throat. “Why?” My voice had trouble making its way out.

  “Gilly Thompson owes me some money.” Daniel Davis put his hand in his pocket and took out his wallet. I watched with rapt attention as he peeled the leather apart and plucked a business card from its depths. He held it at arm’s length for me to take it.

  “Gilly’s debts have nothing to do with me.” I said without emotion, but a cold trickle of sweat made its way from between my shoulder blades and down to the small of my back.

  “They are when Gilly can’t pay.” He tucked his wallet away.

  “What do you want?”

  “Your mother owes us about ten grand.”

  I swore under my breath. “I don’t have your money. She took all of mine.”

  Mr Davis took a step closer to me. I was backed into a wall and unable to get further away unless I could duck under his arm. The bearded man stretched out a hand and tucked a lock of my brown hair behind my ear. I shivered in disgust.

  “The 2k she gave us on Friday was just interest.” His breath smelt like stale cigarettes. I saw the yellow edges of his fingernails and forced my gaze over his shoulders.

  “Harry! Your break’s over, hun!” Mary called from inside of the diner. Mr. Davis stepped away from me with a sedate smile.

  I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking as I walked through the staff room.

  The rest of the week was an exercise in slow healing and over the counter painkillers. I looked over my shoulder at every opportunity for debt collectors and spent as much time at the diner as possible.

  I'd been staying at Rina’s, in her pool house, whilst her father was away on business. Reginald Langley was often away for months at a time, never paying attention to Rina unless it was to wade in on her life and spew his opinion.

  Rina had tried to leave and find her own place, countless times. Her father refused to allow her to move out.

  She'd tried once, but he'd hired a gaggle of men in suits to get her. Claiming, through tears, that he needed her close since her mother had left him. Reginald Langley loved to play the guilt card.

  Rina had pi
cked me up from work and drove us into town to run a few errands before the evening. We pulled up outside of the art supply store, which had been opened by an out of towner a year prior. After popping in to get the ingredients for one of Rina’s abstract sculptures we walked from Main Street and passed the town’s only strip club. The Pink Sleeve, located downtown.

  My nose scrunched in confusion.

  “Not for nothing, Ri-Ri, but I don’t want to spend my afternoon shoving dollars in G-strings.” I told her as we eyed the fuchsia neon sign.

  “This place is Julian Gold's.” She twisted the pearl ring on her pinkie finger nervously. “I need to make sure he isn’t going to say anything to daddy.”

  “He wouldn’t.” I assured her. “You said he's your friend, right?”

  Rina's lip curled. “Yes, but—”

  “We’ll stop in and say hi. You can ask him nicely to not say a word. If you want. But I really don’t think it’s necessary.”

  Rina nodded and squared her shoulders. I got that it was something that she needed to do. I had no idea why my best friend found it so shameful to be attracted to men and women. As far as I knew, her fumble at the Goldryn Masquerade was the first time she had acted on her attraction to a female.

  Said woman must have been special.

  The strip club door was open but the floor was empty. A woman in a plain, black shirt and polished glasses behind the counter appeared before us. I didn’t recognise her.

  “We’re closed.” The bartender told us.

  Rina cleared her throat. “I need to see Julian.”

  The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Does he know you're coming?”

  Rina nodded as a non-descript door with the words 'staff only' swung open. Julian's smirk looked like the cat that got the cream.

  “I got it, Missy. I know these two.” Julian told the woman behind the bar. He directed us through the door and into his office with a tilt of his chin. I stayed silent as I took in the smell of perfume and cleaning products.