Crimson Footprints II: New Beginnings

by Shewanda Pugh

  Tak froze. And though they weren’t speaking, Kenji knew that he’d picked up every ounce of emotion in his voice.

  Tak sighed. “What are you doing?” he demanded tiredly.

  Back against his front door, Kenji drew a foot to it and lowered his head. There was no way with Tak, save the honest one.

  “I don’t know. We’ve been spending so much time together.”

  “What? Why?” Tak snorted in exasperation. “You know what, Kenj? Don’t tell me. I’m terrified of the answer.”

  But he would tell him anyway.

  “She came to the firm looking for Deena.” He dropped his leg and took up a pace in the hall. “I took her out to dinner and a movie. Afterward, we kept seeing each other. We both wanted to see each other.”

  “And how much did that run you an hour?”

  Kenji stopped. “Come on. Cut me a little.”

  Tak exhaled. In his mind’s eye, Kenji could see him roping in the temper, soothing it for the sake of a little brother. But a misplaced word from Kenji right then would earn him a string of never-ending curse words. Tak had their father’s temper, minus the eloquence.

  “She wanted out,” Kenji explained. “Out of the drugs, the prostitution. I sent her to rehab for a long while, and we talked every day. When she got out there was nowhere to go. So she came home with me.”

  “Came home with you,” Tak echoed dryly.

  The wryness sliced him.

  “Yeah,” Kenji snapped. “She’s living with me.”

  Tak snorted.

  “Lizzie Hammond doesn’t live with anyone. She visits for a while, steals your shit, and sells it for crack. Then dumb-asses like me or you go driving up and down the streets looking for her, putting our lives at risk so we can get cussed out when we find her.”

  “Tak, come on. Listen—”

  “No, you listen. Yeah, she’s cute. Beautiful, just like her sister. But I know you, Kenj. You don’t go further than that. And this is no game, you hear? This is my wife’s sister. You can’t just dip your toe in the water and then decide you don’t wanna get wet!”

  “I don’t wanna dip my toe in anything!”

  “Yeah, pardon the censorship,” Tak sneered. “But you’re kind of missing the point. Even if you are serious—which would be the first time in your life—she isn’t. I’ve been dealing in Lizzie’s shit for a long time. She doesn’t fall in love—she falls in opportunity. Lizzie takes what she needs and says fuck whoever comes up short. Are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, I’m listening,” Kenji snapped.

  “Good! Because I don’t know if she’s told you, but she’s been in rehab before! I’ve personally driven her to Key West, Orlando, Tampa, and Naples. I’ve taken her to the airport for a five-star rehab in California that I paid for. Do you know what she did?”

  “What?” Kenji said tiredly.

  “She got clean. She always gets clean! For a week, a month; it makes no difference. Then she’s always back, worse than ever.”

  This was the part he couldn’t understand. Could Tak give up on him, too? Turn his back the moment Kenji failed to live up to some standard?

  “You guys just gave up on her. The only family she’s ever had and you abandoned her.”

  He never thought that silence could sound like murder. But it did.

  “I’m gonna stop you there, Kenj, because I’m not actually trying to hurt you. It’s just that you’re young and don’t know what it is to put someone else before yourself. You don’t know what it is to have the joy of a baby on the way on one hand and a pregnant wife so grief stricken that she won’t eat on the other. You don’t know the hard choices of life, because you’ve never had to make any. And you damned sure don’t know what it is to be motherless and fatherless and parent all at the same time, when you should only have to be a kid yourself. So, I’ll forgive your stupidity just the once and call it luck, or good fortune, or whatever—you can pick. But what I won’t do is sit here and give you a pass on judging me or Deena.”

  Kenji swallowed. He hadn’t meant it that way. Hadn’t meant to imply blame or worse, that either Tak or Deena somehow owed their siblings more than they’d already given. And now he’d exasperated things by siding with Lizzie on something that ran a lot deeper than he’d ever fathomed.

  “I know you mean well,” Tak said, “but you’ve got to understand. You don’t save someone who wants to drown. You drown with them.”

  Drown. Was that what they’d do together?

  “Not this time,” Kenji said softly, his voice absent of conviction. “Not this time.”

  “Yeah. Okay,” Tak said. “I’ll leave you to your movie life in a second. But let me give you some parting advice. When she steals your shit, when she goes missing, don’t wake me up to find her. And I swear to God, if you call my wife and upset her after we’ve managed to move on from Lizzie, then I promise you, I will pencil you in for one hell-of-an-ass whooping. Do I make myself clear?”

  Kenji sighed. “There’s one other thing.”

  “What?” Tak shouted.

  “She needs clothes. She doesn’t really want me to buy any. I thought, maybe, that if Deena had anything—”

  Tak hung up the phone.

  Kenji’s older brother came over that evening with a sack of clothes, some still bearing tags, and a scowl on his face. After only a cursory hello to Lizzie, Tak pulled his kid brother aside and lectured him on the necessity of safe sex and the importance of STD testing. Only once Kenji had managed a shade just slight of magenta did he stop. It was then that Tak offered a muttered apology for his harsh line over the phone, regretting any implication that Kenji had ever been a burden to him, and admitting that things were a little out of sync at home. Though he was curious, Kenji couldn’t bring himself to ask, so used was he to being the kid next to the decidedly adult big brother. They never talked about the things that shadowed Tak’s eyes or made his smile come a little slower on occasion. Kenji figured it was Tak’s constant need to protect him that served as the reason, and now he liked to think the same. Sometimes though, a contrary voice told him Tak said nothing because his brother thought him a child, or worse, an imbecile in need of protection. Strangely enough, that guy sounded a whole lot like the one who pointed to the extra stretch of gums evident with Kenji’s every smile.

  On his way out, Tak told him to call if he needed anything.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Backpacks weighted with work, students of grossly varying heights roamed thick in the corridors of Edinburgh Academy, talk of television, vacations, and gossip mounting like a swarm of bees in a hive. The halls bustled like a Times Square subway station on New Year’s Eve.

  Times Square subway station. That beauty belonged to Tak. More and more, Tony found that it was he that he quoted.

  The bushy brown-haired girl from class fell in step alongside him. Funny, he thought, that he should call her bushy-haired, when his own tresses were only tamed by Deena’s sizzling hot comb and a series of braids done as he squirmed. The last one to braid his hair had been Ms. Reynolds, his foster mom.

  “You’re back,” she announced brightly. With massive ponytails on either side of a large head, wrangled in with a mess of baby blue ribbons, the girl walked alongside Tony, shifting to avoid older kids as they passed. In contrast, Tony shouldered those who didn’t get the hell out of his way.

  “They’re saying you were homeless before you came here,” she bubbled. “Is it true?”

  Tony shot her a look as they rounded the corner. “Yeah.”

  Her eyes widened. “That must’ve been so cool.”

  Tony stopped. With kids rushing past on either side, conscious of the final seconds before bell, it was like standing neck-deep in fast-running waters.

  “I was hungry,” he said simply. “Hungry, cold, dirty, and desperate. All the fucking time.”

  He took off.

  By the time she caught up to him, her face had colored fiercely. “I’m sorry,” she gushed. “
I’m not usually that stupid.”

  “Yeah. Okay,” Tony snapped.

  They rounded another corner and stopped at the entrance to science.

  “I’m glad you hit Brian,” she said before the closed door. “He’s pretty obnoxious.”

  Tony smirked and shoved open the door to the classroom. The fat kid in front jumped at his arrival.

  “We’ll be starting our group projects on the solar system today,” the bushy-haired girl explained. “I’ll have to be your partner since no one else will want to.”

  Tony veered to a desk far opposite of the one she grabbed and sat. As the kids filed in, they took seats up front and to the right, fanning away from him purposefully. Briefly, Tony entertained the thought of pretending to lunge at a nearby student, if only to see half a dozen of them fall out of their chairs. The thought made him grin . . . before the memory of Tak’s punishment set his face to a scowl.

  Mr. Keplar was a deathly thin and pale man with eyes as blue and round as a lagoon. He wore his fine, coffee-colored hair combed straight back, revealing a compromised hairline in the form of a severe widow’s peak.

  “Today’s the big day!” Keplar clapped with his entrance to the room, step-stuttering only briefly at the sight of Tony.

  No doubt the careful gaze that followed counted the number of children within striking distance and verified the evacuation plan crafted in Tony’s absence. When Keplar’s blue eyes met Tony’s brown ones, he blushed with the embarrassment of a man whose mind had been read.

  “Glad to have you back,” Keplar said shrilly.

  Tony snorted. “Like a pack of warts,” he guessed.

  Keplar eyed him a moment longer before turning back to the class.

  “Today we’ll go over chapter six in your textbooks, and then pair off in twos. Each group will then be responsible for a report on the solar system and a scale model re-creation, as per the instructions on your syllabus. I’ll be up here if you have any questions.”

  Immediately, each person flipped the texts, already on their desks, open to chapter six. Tony slung his backpack onto his desk and rummaged blindly, even as Keplar began to lecture.

  “The solar system, boys and girls, consists of a beautiful yet fiery sun and the astronomical objects gravitationally bound to orbit. Our readings today will shed light on this fascinating subject.”

  Keplar ceased his frantic introductory notes on the dry erase board and whirled to face them.

  “Mr. Hammond, begin reading chapter six, please.”

  Tony looked around. To his left and right were students who waited, books open, hands folded in some cases, poised and ready for the passage. Tony, however, had just found the right book. It sat unopened on his desk.

  “I haven’t found the page yet,” he answered lamely.

  “Oh! Well, we’ll wait.”

  Again, Tony looked around, this time scowling. With a heavy sigh, he cracked General Science: Everything You’d Want to Know about the World (Almost!) With Practical Application.

  He flipped to the table of contents, and then to chapter six. The first paragraph stopped him. There were more ten-letter words in it than a stack of foreign passports. There was no way in hell he was reading that.

  “The page is missing,” Tony said, aware that he’d been given cellophane-wrapped books in every class.

  “What?”

  Keplar took a tentative step forward. “That doesn’t seem possible. Perhaps a manufacturing error—”

  He was halfway down the aisle when Tony tore the page from his book. Keplar froze as page 127 floated to the floor.

  “Oh, wow. Looks like you better pick someone else,” Tony said calmly.

  Keplar swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. Eventually, his gaze shifted right, to a wide-mouthed white girl with slanted blue eyes.

  “Ginerva. Please.”

  Her voice came in crisp, confident. “Our solar system is comprised of the sun, eight planets, and a multitude of celestial bodies formed from the collapse of a giant molecular cloud 4.6 billion years ago. The astronomical objects gravitationally bound to orbit the sun . . .”

  Tony’s mind drifted. Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes, the bush of his hair made like a pillow for his neck. Behind his eyelids, Tony stood at the helm of Tak’s ship, sailing the Darling like a rogue pirate. He had a crew of twelve—no girls—and a map that would lead him to treasure in the South Pacific. Though he didn’t know where in the hell the South Pacific might be, he figured south and toward the Pacific were as good a direction as any to start. Tak’s wuss of a red sail had been taken down and replaced with the Jolly Roger. A bout of cannons lined the sides in the event he met enemies. He would’ve liked to have met enemies.

  Tony opened his eyes at the sound of desks scraping the floor. He hadn’t heard the announcement, but apparently it was time for them to break into pairs. Friends found friends; neighbors scooted over, until only he and the weird, bush-haired girl remained. She grabbed her backpack and found the back of the room.

  “Told you,” she said and dropped into a vacant seat.

  Before, Tony had looked at her as a mere matter of annoyance, but now, she was a curiosity. Where was her fear? Her loathing for him? And why was it that during the pairings, that she too wound up alone?

  “Why are they avoiding you?” he asked.

  She shrugged good-naturedly. “They say I talk too much.”

  “I can see that,” Tony said.

  “They say worse things about you.”

  “I can see that, too.”

  Smiling, she pulled out a psychedelic notebook of red, white, and blue. Across the front, “Science” had been stenciled in, in large black letters.

  “It’s very important that I do well in science,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll need it to be a doctor like my mom and dad. Oh! Before I forget, they both have erratic hours, so we’ll be working at your house. I think you’ll agree that your house would be best.”

  Tony blinked.

  “Work? At my house?”

  “Yes, on the model. We have to complete it. Anyway, I was thinking I could just ride home with you some evenings, and my mom could pick me up when she finishes her shift.”

  Words fired from her lips like bullets. Had she always talked so fast?

  “Ride home with me?” Tony echoed.

  “Yeah. In the black car you go in. I assume that’s your nanny or maid. It must be pretty odd having a nanny after you’ve been homeless. Daddy says that homelessness is a very serious problem that pervades the nation.”

  “Okay,” Tony said.

  “You must be very rich. Richer even than Brian Swallows, though he likes to act the part. He likes to act like he has a lot of money, but in my experience, the people who act as if they have the most money are the ones who hardly have any at all. Also, Brian says that your foster mom is a Tanaka. Now is she your foster mom or your real mom, because she looks an awful lot like you, and you have a real particular look, you know? I like it though. It’s very handsome.”

  Tony blinked. And suddenly she had a cell phone in hand.

  “She’s my aunt,” he mumbled. “How do you know her?”

  “Oh, I saw her when you were in trouble.” She punched buttons with a thumb. “How’s Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays for you?”

  “Huh?” Tony said. Talking to her made him feel as if he’d been thrown in a wash cycle—on spin.

  “The project, Tony. Please, concentrate. Daddy says that I can be exasperating, but you don’t appear exasperated. In any case, it’s important just the same that you try to focus so that we can make plans to complete the project.”

  Indeed, the conversation was getting away from him. He thought quickly. Monday nights they had family counseling. Tuesdays and Thursdays were drum lessons. Wednesday was his free evening, and she sure as hell couldn’t have that. She couldn’t have his weekends either.

  “I keep a busy schedule,” Tony said. “It’s hard to say.”

&n
bsp; “Oh. Do you take lessons?”

  He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. What did she care what he did with his time? Hadn’t he said he was busy?

  “Drum lessons, yeah.”

  “I could watch. I could ride with you to your lessons and watch. Then afterward, we could work and have dinner and watch TV or whatever. It’s lonely at my house, anyway. That would be so cool. What do you watch? I like M*A*S*H.”

  Tony shook off her suggestion and looked up to find Keplar moving up and down the aisles. When he approached them, caution etched his face.

  “And how are you two making a go of it, Wendy?”

  Wendy. Briefly, he thought of his Bismarck textbook tattooed with “Wendy takes it up the ass.” For some reason, it now made him blush. Tony lowered his gaze.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. Keplar. Here’s what we have so far. We’ll be at Tony’s house every Tuesday and Thursday night. I’ll watch him practice drums, first. Then we’ll work, have dinner, and watch M*A*S*H together.”

  Tony sank in his chair amongst snickers.

  Good Lord, he thought. Pretty as she was, he would keep from watching M*A*S*H if he could.

  ~*~

  When three o’clock arrived, the sleek black Lincoln that usually retrieved Tony and Mia was replaced by a pearl Benz. Tony sighed. So, he hadn’t got away with tearing up the science book after all.

  “Daddy!” Mia squealed.

  Tony snatched her when she attempted to pitch into traffic. He’d heard enough times that Mia was his responsibility to know that he’d get much more than a smack in the head should he stand around and watch her run into the street.

  “Hey, baby,” Tak said and knelt down on ripped jeans to squeeze his daughter.

  When he stood again, his eyes were on Tony. It was the eleven-year-old who looked away first.

  “So, how was science today?” Tak said evenly.

  Tony studied the blades of grass. They were a deep, forest green, wide and evenly cut, with just a twinge of dampness.

  “Science was okay. We talked about planets and stuff. And there’s a project I have to do. I got paired with this weird girl. Oh and—”