Redemption

by Sam J. D. Hunt

  My right hand was underneath her, my left around her floppy head. “How does such a tiny thing produce so much wet?”

  There was nothing in the car seat, just the thin blanket that Misty had used to shield her from the sun. “The things I do for you already,” I said, walking toward Becky’s bright purple door.

  “Oh hey, watcha got there?” She leaned out of her doorway and examined Grace. “Sister’s kid?”

  “I thought she might be one of yours?”

  “Huh?” she asked, confused.

  “You know, Snow White, Cinderella – something like that.” All of Becky’s hundred kids were named after Disney characters.

  “Very funny. Don’t you have someone to go beat up? Drugs to sell?”

  “She’s supposedly mine.”

  “Raincoat much?”

  “Apparently not enough. Listen, I need a favor.”

  “I’ll only take the kid if you sleep with me. Like not once, but on the regular.”

  “Whaaa?” We both knew she wasn’t at all joking.

  “Yeah, and of course you have to pay for her.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Uh, you’re bat shit crazy.”

  “Okay, just a few times then. Or once with Jake – him in front because clearly you can’t be trusted not to fertilize me.”

  I took a deep breath. “I wanted to borrow a diaper. And maybe something she could wear? Just until I get over to Walgreens or whatever.”

  “Stay here.” She pointed to the porch. “Clearly we ain’t close enough for you to come inside.”

  “Thank God.”

  She slammed the door in front of us, but I could hear her screaming from the other side. “Jasmine! Go get some of those diapers you took for your dolls. The old ones from when Ariel was a baby.”

  When she finally opened the door, she held out a handful of diapers and some sort of t-shirt contraption with snaps on the bottom.

  “Oh, uh, thanks Becky. If you ever need anything…”

  “I need a lot of things, Mack. Yes, my needs are off the charts.”

  “Yeah, well…thanks.”

  I walked toward my own trailer and then looked back at her. “I don’t even know what to buy?”

  “Condoms. And drop a box off over here when you get back.”

  The changing her part wasn’t that hard. It had been decades since I’d changed a diaper, and back then it was cloth and pins. “That’s better, little one,” I said, pressing down the Velcro on the sides. “Now let’s go get you some grub!”

  It took less than five minutes to get an Uber to pick us up, but over fifteen minutes for the driver and me to figure out how to properly strap her seat in.

  “Do you have the manual?” he asked at one point.

  “Babies don’t come with manuals.”

  “For the seat.”

  “Ah, yeah, uh, I think I’ve got it. Listen, if I pay you cash will you wait for us? I don’t want to have to battle this contraption again if I can help it.”

  “Yeah, sure. You’re going to want to get a better one anyway.”

  “Huh?” I pulled Grace from the seat and bounced her a little as she fussed.

  “That one is pretty damn old – not exactly the safest.”

  “Shit, I didn’t know that. I’ll walk home with her.”

  “Let’s not get drastic, it’s a hundred and ten degrees out here. Maybe just order one from Amazon later or whatever.”

  I bounced Grace a little more. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll be quick.”

  But there was nothing quick about me wandering Walgreens trying to get everything on the list from the Internet I’d printed out. It was even harder with a now-irate as fuck baby in one arm and a cart to push.

  “How often do they eat?” I asked one of the older employees as she walked by the baby formula aisle.

  She was definitely the wrong choice to ask for help. “Excuse me?”

  “Um, uh, yeah, I just got her. I don’t really know how much she consumes as far as…”

  “This is a newborn baby, young man!”

  “I think she’s a few weeks old. A month maybe?”

  “You boys today, just knock em’ up and then don’t do jack-squat to raise ‘em. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  I ignored her and picked up a can from the endless shelf of baby formula, reading the back until the cranky woman left.

  “Don’t pay attention to that angry old bitch,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned around to see a teenage redhead, probably no older than sixteen. “I have one about the same age. They eat every few hours, and she’s hungry. I can tell by the way she’s rooting around with her mouth. Is the baby a she? It’s hard to tell at this age.”

  I nodded. “Yeah this is Grace. Her mom sort of left and I’m a bit stuck.”

  She reached for a can on the top shelf. “This is the best formula they carry, but it is isn’t cheap.”

  “I don’t want cheap, I want the best.” I took the can from her and dropped it into the cart.

  She turned to go. “Hey, thanks for the help. Does your baby need this one too? Let me get it for you.” Who exactly was I, and what universe had replaced my normal cheap-ass, asshole self?

  “No, my son nurses. It’s really the best thing.”

  I nodded again, completely out of my element. “Thanks again.”

  After another twenty minutes, I had bag after bag of baby supplies. Grace and I headed home in the waiting car, me panicking at every lane change and turn. How could my kid have a shitty car seat? I thought. And how could her mother care so little for her? Not only was she perfect, but she was my universe after only a few hours.

  We made it home without incident, and I was proud as hell of myself that afternoon. Thanks to Google and YouTube, I managed to get my new daughter fed, burped, changed, and sound asleep on my chest as we crashed on my ancient couch.

  Until I realized that if I fell asleep she might roll off. Fuck! Where could she sleep? I reached into my back pocket for my buzzing phone, careful not to wake her. And, in my baby-fog, remembered that I forget all about something that had ruled my life since the day I left prison. Work!

  With one hand, I sent a text to the owner of club:

  Sorry, something was dropped on me today that I couldn’t get out of. I’ll make it up to you.

  And then I waited in freak-out mode. And waited. And finally, after ten long minutes, he answered.

  Dude, chill. U haven’t been a second L8 or missed a day in 2 yrs. It’s cool, take all the time u need. Q8 here 2nite.

  Despite the several minutes it took me to interpret his text speak, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Now, more than ever, I needed both of the jobs I had as well as the not-so-legal side contract work I did.

  Under the 70s shag carpet on the floor of my trailer, beneath the couch we were currently napping on, was a safe. Inside, I had twenty thousand dollars in cash left over from my gang-banging days.

  It seemed like a lot, but for a guy with no retirement, an eighth grade education, and a lengthy criminal record, it wasn’t much. I was especially aware of that fact as I ordered Grace a new top of the line crib and the world’s safest car seat. Once I added clothes, a stroller, bedding, a case of diapers, and a million other things, I realized quickly how fast I was going broke.

  I dozed off as Jeopardy! lit up the darkening living room. When I jolted awake, I was grateful she was still sound asleep on my chest. In the course of a day, my entire life had changed. But that had happened before, just not in the best way. Grace was my second chance, my opportunity to do something good.

  Three

  Can I Do Like A Wet Nurse Or Something?

  The next morning, I did something drastic. Hell froze over and I called my sister. I didn’t even text, I actually let her hear my voice for the first time in over a year. And despite our history, she came.

  Hands on her hips, French manicured nails tapping, she glared at me like I was about to repossess her car. Which
I sort of was.

  “So what’s so important that I had to come all the over here, Mack?”

  Yes, she called me Mack. To others, she’d say my criminal brother. Lisa would never forgive me for going to prison. Not because of the crime, but because of the years away. She’d been left alone with my dysfunctional family; alone to fend for herself.

  “Nice to see you too, Lisa.”

  “Seriously, do you realize it took me over forty-seven minutes in this traffic to get to this shit-hole side of town from Summerlin? Construction is a fucking mess and the Californians don’t know how to merge.”

  “You grew up on this shit-hole side of town, just like me.”

  “And I got out, and here you sit in our dead grandmother’s trailer.”

  “I am getting out. I’m digging my way out, Lisa. It’s not easy, but I am.”

  “I hope so.”

  She couldn’t hate me, just resent me. If it weren’t for me, she would have been either dead or in state custody before her third birthday. When Lisa was a toddler, our mother was off on some binge with some man-of-the-week. I managed to keep her and my brother alive by stealing what we needed from the corner gas station.

  “I need to show you something.” I pulled the door open wide and gestured inside.

  She stepped inside and froze, her eyes focusing on Grace in her car seat on the floor.

  “Well who is this?” she asked in a sing-song voice, her entire demeanor changing.

  Lisa was determined to be everything our mother wasn’t. She’d married a local lawyer and had four boys who were her life. Somehow if she was the best mother in the world, she’d wash away the years of pain inflicted on her, I supposed.

  “Can I hold her?”

  “Of course.”

  She snuggled into Grace, sniffing her head as everyone seemed to do.

  “It seems she’s mine.”

  “Of course she’s yours,” she said with soft chuckle. “Look at her – she looks just like you.”

  “I’ve ordered up some stuff, but I need get like an appropriate vehicle. This seat she came with is…”

  “Thrift store shit?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. I ordered a new one but it won’t be here until tomorrow. My bike has to go and I don’t want to Uber her in that.”

  “Interesting,” she said, her eyes still on Grace.

  “What? I just need to borrow your car – I bet you have the best stuff ever.”

  “I do but it’s interesting that for her, your care actually comes with warmth.”

  “I took care of you and Andy, Lisa. I didn’t have time for warmth.”

  “No one did.”

  “I was nine. Nobody seems to fucking care that I was a kid, a messed up kid, with that sort of pressure on me.” Nothing I could say would ever make things right with Lisa – she was deeply bitter at the hand she’d been dealt.

  “Despite that fact that you’ve seen your nephews once in the last year, I’ll let you slide for the sake of my niece. It’s not her fault you didn’t wear a condom.”

  I cringed, but bit my tongue. She wanted to provoke me, but I didn’t have time for that. “Can I borrow a car seat then?”

  She shook her head. “No. Mine are way too big for her. Oh that’s right, you wouldn’t know. Tyler isn’t a newborn anymore.”

  That familiar wave of remorse fought its way over me. I’d kept meaning to spend time with them, but somehow work had always gotten in the way. A two-month-old birthday invitation was stuck to my fridge, and somewhere in a closet I had a present or two yet to be delivered.

  “I’ll do better, I promise.”

  She pulled Grace close to her chest. “I mostly can’t believe you got the girl!”

  And then we laughed, a rare thing between us. Lisa had always wanted a daughter, and ended up with four boys.

  “I’ll stay here with her while you go trade in that impractical as hell Harley.”

  I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving her with someone else. Since she’d arrived, we’d never been apart. But I was stuck, and I knew Lisa wouldn’t harm her.

  “I’ll do my best to make it fast. There are bottles in the fridge and if she gets cranky, walk with her. Oh, and if you put her down just make sure Thug can’t step on her. He doesn’t see very well anymore.”

  “I know babies, Mack. Go get our princess a carriage.”

  One last ride.

  That bike was the only expensive thing I owned, and I loved it. No, I enjoyed it. I loved Grace. And she needed the best, the safest, transportation I could obtain.

  Weaving my way through the heavy traffic, I thought about my sister and the path she’d taken. The last time I’d been around her husband, Paul, he’d pointed the tip of his overly priced craft beer at me and asked, “Why are you so angry all the time?”

  Yeah, I am fucking angry, I thought that morning as I prepared to say goodbye to my former life. Anger fueled me to want more, to never want to settle for what life had handed me. I’d let it crush me once, and paid heavily for it, but never again. I had plans, dreams, but yeah, anger fueled that. And now, I was fucking angry that my daughter didn’t have the best of everything.

  Lisa had done well for herself, at least on paper. Attorney husband, nice house in the best part of town, healthy kids, and season tickets to everything. But she didn’t seem happy. She’d lost her anger, her rage, her drive. It was like she settled for comfort and safety over being the kickass scrapper that she was.

  I turned into the massive auto mall complex over in Henderson and debated which dealership to choose. In a wave of what the fuck ever, I decided to pay a visit to the one that was familiar.

  “Oh hey, Vince,” I said as I opened the door to the used car center.

  He turned whiter than Vegas during rodeo week.

  “MacKenzie, please don’t come here. I’ll get fired.” His lip had a tremor of fear as I walked closer.

  The thump of my heavy black boots on the tile echoed through the sterile showroom. “Your boss here?”

  “He’s at lunch. Please don’t hurt me! I get paid Friday – I’ll pay up then.”

  “I need a car, Vince.”

  He froze. “If you take my car I really won’t be able to pay!”

  “No, I need you to sell me a car. I’m not here about what you owe Jimmy.”

  His shoulders fell in relief. “What price range?”

  “What’s that worth?” I pointed to the window, my beautiful Harley shining in the sunlight.

  “We don’t really deal in motorcycles.”

  “You do now.” I cracked my knuckles in warning – I didn’t have time for this. I already missed Grace so badly I couldn’t think straight.

  “Um, well, uh,” he stammered, glancing at the cameras.

  “Listen Vince, you deal with this for me, now, and I’ll clear your gambling debt.”

  “You’d do that?” Joy flooded his gaunt face.

  “Do me a favor and get me hooked up with a decent car and yeah, no more broken fingers.”

  “We have some kickass new sporty shit – fast and handles like—”

  “No,” I interrupted. “I need the safest thing you have. Nothing flashy.”

  He did me right that day and I got a substantial don’t-hurt-me-again discount, but I’ll admit it hurt to leave my bike behind. For Grace, however, it was the easiest sacrifice I’d have to make.

  After laughing her ass off about my new-to-me vehicle, Lisa left after I promised her we’d go to family dinner and some sort of sports thing her kid was doing.

  Thankfully, my myriad of packages full of what I called BSE, or baby support equipment, was arriving and we had a car seat.

  “We’re going places, baby girl,” I said, her mouth chewing on my shoulder.

  And then – it happened yet again. Hurl, vomit, puke all over me. All over her. Even worse, it made her cry. Which pretty fucking much made me want to cry.

  I swallowed my pride once again that day and knocked on
Becky’s door. This time, she actually let me in.

  “I mean, she’s happy and everything, but it just seems like she pukes up after every feeding,” I explained.

  She leaned down and picked up Grace. “She’s so little that I think I’d take her to the doctor, Mack. She’s supposed to be getting well-baby checkups and stuff anyway.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

  “Who’s your doctor?”

  “I haven’t been to a doc since I left the state penitentiary.”

  “What about that stab wound last month?”

  I shook my head. “No way I’d have gone anywhere for that. They’d report it.”

  At my day job, collecting bad loans from the more dangerous clients for Dollar Loan, things occasionally got bloody. That particular debt collection had been violent, and I ended up with a four-inch gash in my side.

  I looked back at Becky. “I sewed it up myself.”

  She laughed out loud, her face to the sky. “You’re a badass, MacKenzie. I’m kinda glad we’re friends.”

  “I don’t have friends. But, yeah, without this neighborhood and without you, it would have been way harder.”

  “Is that a thank you?”

  “Thank you, Becky. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic. Now get me a date with Jake.”

  “Ha,” I fake-laughed. “As if. Did you hear the actress is back?”

  “Yeah, Cassidy Whoever, like I can compete with that.”

  “So the doc?”

  “I’d just take her up the Minute Clinic over at CVS on Nellis. No appointment needed and they take cash. I just had Tiana over there yesterday for an ear infection.”

  “Their ears get infected?” I cringed at the thought.

  “Oh you just wait, tough guy. Your life will consist of pus, vomit, shit, and plenty of sleeplessness and tears.”

  “Great.” I reached for Grace. “Keep your petri-dish of germ filled kids away from my precious angel then.”