Thea turned her head on the pillow and looked at the clock on the cabinet next to the bed. The cabinet didn’t match any of the other furniture in the room. It had all been collected from yard sales and thrift stores and was an interior designer’s nightmare. It was time for her to be getting up, a little past time, thanks to that dream. She would have to rush and shake Josh a little harder than usual. She was supposed to have another two years before he turned into a teenager, but he’d started early practice on the sleeping-in trait.
She needed a shower; maybe a cold one would restore some sense, but she couldn’t face that. She’d settle for lukewarm. She sat up and planted her feet on the floor with a groan. Every cell in her body was reluctant to leave the warm comfort of her bed. She hadn’t been in it long, but having a young child and working night shifts had combined to ensure that she could operate on only a few hours of sleep each night, or more accurately, each morning. She showered quickly and dressed in her usual jeans, t-shirt and Converse, but she pulled a hoodie out of a drawer and slung it over the arm of the sofa; she’d need it to ward off the autumnal chill when they left the building.
Breakfast was cereal and coffee, substantially more coffee than cereal, eaten with her hip propped against the counter. She needed to give Josh something more substantial to sustain him until he claimed his free lunch at school. Thea checked the cupboards; maybe she’d just have to give him something more, there wasn’t really anything more substantial in the kitchen. She tipped a bigger serving of the budget brand cornflakes into a bowl and put two slices of bread into the toaster in readiness.
Even when she had finished, there was still no sign of movement from Josh’s room. With a quick sigh of frustration she opened his door, not being at all careful about how much noise she made. He was still asleep. For once, his head was on the pillow and he was under the comforter, or at least half of him was. He was a lively sleeper, and it wasn’t unusual to find him on top of the covers, at the wrong end of the bed, or even hanging out half on the floor while still in deep slumber.
She glanced around and saw that his handheld games console had been placed neatly on the corner of the chest of drawers. If it was there, then it was unlikely that he’d been playing it until the early hours. When that had been the case she usually found it on the floor by the bed, where it had slipped from his unconscious hand. When that happened on a school night, she hid it before he woke up and refused to tell him where it was for a while. She’d had to do some serious overtime to afford it as his tenth birthday present, but he was getting his money’s worth out of it. He’d had to agree to forgo any major Christmas presents, too, and surprisingly, he hadn’t complained come Christmas morning. They’d also agreed that she would only buy him games for it, one, on birthdays or at Christmas. If he wanted one in between times he’d have to find a way to earn the money himself. He did small odd jobs for the neighbors sometimes, and carefully saved any money he was given in return.
Thea took a moment to appreciate how young and peaceful he looked while asleep. It wouldn’t be long before puberty started to hit and he’d change beyond all recognition, but for now, especially while asleep, he was still her little baby boy.
Reminding herself that they were now in danger of being late for school, she shook his shoulder. “Get up bud, come on.”
“Mmmhhhfff.” Josh rolled and buried his face into the pillow.
Thea shook him again more vigorously. “Come on, bud. You’re gonna be late.”
“Pfffmmmmnnnfff.”
The coffee must have taken effect because she was almost finding his futile attempts to ignore her amusing rather than irritating. “Joshua Colby, you get up this instant or I will tip cold water over you where you lie.”
She hadn’t had to follow through with that threat yet, but she would if she needed to. A cup maybe, not a bucket. After all, she’d be the one doing the cleaning up.
“Mmmnnfff. Alright. Alright. I’m awake.” His response was muffled by the pillow.
“Up. Now. Get washed and dressed. I’ll make you some breakfast. I’ll be back in here in fifteen minutes. If you’re not out of this bed, then you can go to school in your jamas.”
“Alright. Alright.” He finally rolled over and sat up, rubbing his closed eyes with his fists.
Thea switched the room light on to make it harder for him to go back to sleep and backed out, but hovered in the doorway until Josh tossed the covers back and swung his feet over the side of the bed. His brown hair, that he’d recently decide to wear swept over to one side like some fifties movie star, was stuck up in all directions. He’d also recently started to reject his old cartoon character pajamas. Where he’d gotten the idea for sleeping in just boxer shorts, which he did not have, she didn’t know. She’d persuaded him to wear the pajama pants with a plain white t-shirt, which had so far proved acceptable. He was a good boy who was helpful and respectful for the most part, but the teenage years were definitely on their way. He was in the fifth grade and moving up to middle school next. She was expecting his incipient adolescence to be accelerated by that move.
Giving him the space of trust, Thea went back to the kitchen and pushed the bread into the toaster and poured milk over the cereal before making herself another cup of coffee. She listened out for the sounds of Josh getting up rather than going back to sleep as she tried to do the mental arithmetic to decide between spending gas money on getting to the nearest superstore to do her grocery shopping or whether it evened out if she paid the extra markup at the store she worked at and saved herself a longer journey. In the end, it was the capability of her car to perform the extra mileage that made her mind up for her.
Josh still looked at least half asleep as he shuffled into the kitchen, but he was dressed for school and clean. He’d made use of the cheap hair gel that she’d bought him to do the little side parting, sweeping little quiff thing that he’d adopted for his hairstyle.
She just about caught the mumbled “Thanks” as he picked up the bowl of cereal and took it to the dining table before digging in. When the toaster popped, she buttered the rounds, sliced them into triangles, dropped them onto a plate and put them on the table next to him. She poured him a glass of orange juice, and then left him to eat in peace. He was still too sleepy to tolerate idle conversation without getting grumpy.
Apart from a guiding nudge here and there, she didn’t need to say much, anyway. He rinsed his dishes and put them in the sink unprompted, and picked his coat up without complaint before grabbing his school bag. It took a couple of tries to get the car to start, and she was about ready to panic, but on the third try it caught, and she pulled out onto the street with a silent prayer of thanks. There was a school bus which would have saved her the gas money, but it picked up from two streets away and she didn’t want Josh hanging around on the street in this neighborhood until he was a little older. Thankfully he hadn’t brought the subject up yet. She was torn between mentioning it around the time of his birthday, or waiting and hoping the idea didn’t occur to him for a while longer.
He was beginning to look a little more alert. “So, bud. Anything you’re looking forward to today?”
“We’re doin’ story writin’ in English, which is sorta cool. Mrs. Dawson is lettin’ us write about anythin’ we like so I’m gonna do a story about dragons. I think Mr. Callaghan is gonna tell us about the Science Fair, too.”
“Will you let me read the story when you’re done with it?”
“Sure. Unless it sucks.”
“I’m sure it won’t, but I’d like to see it anyway. Have you got any ideas for the Science Fair?”
“No, not yet. I was gonna see what Mr. Callaghan says about it first. Hey, can I go round to Billy’s house after school?”
“It’s okay by me if it’s okay with his mama, but you make sure he’s asked her first. Don’t you just go turnin’ up on her doorstep. I’m at work at five, though, so I want you home for dinner by then ‘cause Clarice will be cookin’ and it’s not pol
ite to be late for her. Tell Billy’s mama to let me know if you need me to come pick you up, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll get Billy to send you a text if I’m not goin’ to his.”
Thea felt bad for Josh that he didn’t have a cell phone like his friends, not least because it would be much easier for him to keep in touch with her if he did, but her own was an ancient brick of a thing, and she couldn’t afford one for him, too.
“That’s good, bud. Thanks.”
Thea didn’t drop Josh off directly outside the school because the traffic there was absolutely crazy, but there were plenty of kids making their way along the sidewalks from the point that she let him out a few streets away. She was touched that she still warranted a quick kiss on the cheek before he clambered out of the car and followed the hordes.
She went by the store on her way home to pick up the few groceries she needed and spent the rest of the day at the laundromat. She was relieved to get a text from Billy’s mama, confirming that Josh was at her house and that she’d make sure he was back at their apartment building for five. Her own dinner was another bowl of cereal and a slice of toast before she pulled on her uniform polo shirt and headed to her shift.
Mondays were always a quiet night, and this one was no exception. It was the lack of excitement that had made it the ideal day for her to schedule a regular double shift. Nine hours of no fun and no frolics, but also no stock checking or deliveries. If anything, the hardest thing about her Monday shifts was the struggle to keep her eyes open.
Thea had been dozing on her feet, her eyes closing in long blinks, for at least the last hour, when the sound of the doors opening roused her. She checked the time on the display on the register, just after midnight – thank god – she only had a couple more hours to go. When she looked up to check who had walked in she just about fell off her feet.
“I hope you’ve got your good panties on tonight.”
Dizzy had come almost right up to the counter, which in itself had been a surprise, but his smirk and eyes were telegraphing dirty thoughts which took her mind right back to the dream she’d woken from that morning. She had to take a beat to find her voice, but when she did she was beyond glad that it came out normal and not as a squeak.
“My panties are none of your business, thank you very much.”
“Maybe not right now.” Thea clenched her jaw rather than let it fall open at the sheer arrogance of that statement. But she still watched his retreating back as he wandered off deeper into the store, and okay, maybe she checked out his ass a little too.
Her head snapped around when she heard the doors go again. It was always the way. No customers for hours, then everyone came in at once. At least it was too late for her to worry about ending up with a line full of people huffing and tapping their feet like it was her fault that they’d all picked the same half-hour window to shop in.
The man who had come into the store loped straight towards the counter. Thea figured that he just wanted smokes, but something about him set her inner alarm bells clamoring. He was wearing a padded jacket with the hood pulled up; it was torn and stained in places and had definitely seen better days. As he got closer, Thea had to resist the urge to step back, or to turn and flat out run away. The guy looked like he was an extra out of that TV series about the zombie apocalypse. His cheeks were shrunken, and the skin of his face that she could see was blotched with scabs. It looked like he was thin all over; his clothes were hanging off him. His eyes were wide and wild; she could see the whites all the way round the iris. Oh shit, this was not good news.
Even though she was expecting trouble from him, the gun he tugged out of his jacket pocket still shocked her with an immense jolt of fear. It was a big hunk of metal and looked far too heavy and solid for what must have been a twig of arm to hold. That arm was shaking. Fuck, a fucking junkie in the grip of a comedown. Most likely he’d be feeling like fire ants were crawling over his skin, and that was not good news for her with that cannon not two feet away with his itching finger on the trigger.
“Empty the register, bitch.”
Thea dragged a long pull of air into her lungs. This wasn’t the first time the store had been held up, nor was it the first time that she’d been on shift when it happened, but it was the first time that the perpetrator had been so obviously unstable. But this wasn’t her first rodeo in that respect, either. She’d had her share of dealing with withdrawing junkies. Not panicking was the first thing to remember. If she got jittery it’d just set him off more. She swallowed, hard, and managed to keep her tone calm.
“Okay. I’ll empty the register. Just don’t shoot.”
“Now, bitch!”
His arm was shaking more violently. Thea hoped by all that was good and holy that the gun didn’t go off by mistake. Making sure to keep her movements slow and even, she stepped over to the register. She was trying to keep her mind clear of everything but emptying the register and letting the junkie get out of the store without her getting dead in the process, but she hadn’t forgotten that Dizzy was still in the store. Surely he must have heard what was going on. As much as she wouldn’t have minded a little help, she really hoped he didn’t do anything that got either of them shot.
She carefully pulled the bills out of the drawer, taking care to keep the stacks neat. The last thing she needed was to drop the money all over the floor. Clumsiness would make him angry, and that would ensure a trip to the ER at the very least.
“Do you want the change, too?” She asked quietly.
“No! Just give me the fucking cash, bitch.”
Adrenaline was thudding through her; her heart was pounding. It felt like the organ should be visible, the classic cartoon shape tenting the cotton of her shirt with each resounding beat.
Movement caught the corner of her eye. Christ, but she hoped he didn’t have an accomplice. She made herself not look. Whatever it had been, she absolutely did not want to spook the man holding the gun. She kept her eyes on the cash as she handed the bills over into a waiting hand that was crusty with dirt and missing a couple of fingernails. The robber stuffed the bills inside his coat and then, with a speed and accuracy she wouldn’t have believed him capable of, he grabbed her wrist before she could retreat away from the counter. For such a scrawny man he was strong; the violent wrench of the drugs leaving his system provided a false vigor.
“You on your own, sweet thing?”
She was so very, very glad that she wasn’t, but she didn’t get a chance to voice that fact. At the same time as the junkie dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut, a hand flashed out and gripped the wrist of the arm holding the gun and pointed the firearm to the ceiling. The falling thief revealed Dizzy standing behind him. Dizzy had his own gun out, but was holding it wrong. Thea took a much needed breath as she realized that he’d used the butt to crack the junkie on the skull. Relief sang through her body, so much so that she almost smiled.
“You okay, sweetheart?” She could see that he was concerned, but that the concern was almost engulfed by fury.
The ebbing adrenaline had taken her voice with it, and she had to try twice to speak. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Can you lock those doors?” The concern was gone now, replaced entirely by cold rage. But she wasn’t afraid; the rage was not directed at her. The tenuous thread of his control was almost palpable.
“Um, yeah.”
“Good. Lock ‘em, then show me the way out back.”
Thea quickly locked the sliding glass doors, wondering what on earth Dizzy was planning. When she got back to the counter, the pile of bills she’d handed over to the junkie was sitting on the counter.
When she went to put them back in the register, the rasp of Dizzy’s voice stopped her. “They’ll be safe enough for the time bein’. Come on, sweetheart, lead the way.”
Oh yeah, she was supposed to show him the way out in the back. As she moved past him toward the door that led into the rear of the store, Dizzy got hold of the junkie
, who was still out for the count. She noticed that Dizzy had taken the junkie’s gun and tucked it into his belt. Her brain was shuddering between thoughts of needing to call 9-1-1 and wondering how in the hell she was going to explain what the fuck was happening to the store manager.
As they passed the employee lounge cum Manager’s office, as advertised by a white adhesive tile with black lettering, Dizzy paused in dragging the body, which Thea hoped was still breathing, along.
“That where the security tapes are?” Dizzy nodded towards the office.
“What? Oh, yeah. It’s an old system. VHS.”
Bones by the Wood Page 7
