Well, you can’t blame yourself, darlin. You just have to learn from it and move forward. You won’t make the same mistake again. Sometimes you play the game, and sometimes the game plays you. That’s just how it is.
We almost had enough for a condo. We were so close.
I felt a lump building in the back of my throat.
We lost everything, Hank. Everything. What the hell are we supposed to do now?
Well, I’ll tell ya what you’re not gonna do, you’re not gonna mope around feeling sorry for yourself. You’re gonna get right back on your feet and figure out a way to make it all back again. Look, I’ll see to it that you get set up with your first couple orders, and you can start selling Tupperware again this weekend. Hank was always paranoid about drug-talk over the phone, for good reason, I guess. He had a lot to lose.
Thanks.
Hey, no sweat. Listen, you and your little book club can get creative now. There are ways to reel in big fish without spending years collecting sardines. Know what I mean?
I think so.
Good. Well, I’ll talk to my friend tonight and get you sorted out.
Thanks a million, Hank.
Hang in there, kiddo. It’ll turn out alright, you’ll see. Gotta go, my next appointment’s here. Whew, she’s a fox. Bye.
Big fish. Get creative. Hank was right, we could pull one big con and make just as much money as we did spending hours and hours cooking, chopping, and slinging crack. But what could we do that was low-risk and high-reward?
I went for a walk to clear my head, get some fresh air. A wrecking ball was demolishing a building down the way. I stopped across the street and watched it come down, brick by brick, just falling in on itself. A crowd gathered on the sidewalk with me, and we all watched as this ugly little building was put out of its misery. I lit a smoke, and a junkie beside me asked me for one and I handed it to her, passed her my lighter.
It’s kinda like watching a car accident, eh?
Yeah, it is, I said.
What’s that about, anyways? she asked, scratching a sore on her face.
What’s what about?
How come we’re so drawn to car crashes and shit like this? She gestured to all the people who had stopped to watch the demolition.
I don’t know. Curiosity, I guess.
It’s more than that, though, she said, exhaling smoke from the corner of her mouth. It’s like watching our own lives in slow motion.
VANCOUVER
I am constantly being destroyed. I am constantly being created. I am a vision of the past, present, and future. They say I am 125 years old, but I contain 8,000 years of human history.
I am a stinking, shining, gorgeous, awful manifestation of all the joys and fears, all the fantasies and illusions of every person who has ever stepped inside me. I am a concrete forest. I am a metallically realized dream. I am the City of Glass. The City of Tears. The Broken City. I am the Liveable City. World Class. I am Raincouver, Hongcouver, and No Fun City. I am Lotusland. Shangri-La. I am Hollywood North, the intersection of aspiration and desire. I am ground zero of hope. I am your last refuge and your final destination. I am the Terminal City, where everything that ends begins.
MERCY
I know we didn’t owe them anything, and I can’t believe they would fuck us over like that. But what does it really matter now? Our stuff is gone, and it’s never coming back.
I went to the store to steal us some junk food because that usually helps me feel better when really shitty things happen. When I got home, Sly Girl, Mac, and Z were smoking a blunt and watching a movie on TV. At least we still had the TV.
You got some more weed? I asked, reaching for the joint.
Yeah, Hank’s guy dropped by, Mac said.
That’s good, I guess.
Yeah.
He fronted us?
Yeah.
How much?
Just an ounce. Don’t worry. It’ll move fast.
Cool. Want some ice cream? I held up the two tubs of Häagen-Dazs I’d managed to slip in my bag.
Fuckin rights. Mac leapt up and ran into the kitchen to grab spoons.
Z laughed and reached for the tub of Rocky Road.
I pushed Thug off the couch and settled in beside Sly Girl, careful not to bump her broken spots.
Here. Mac plunked down on the other side of me and handed me a spoon.
Thanks.
No, thank you.
Sly Girl giggled.
What are you guys watching?
Trapped.
What’s going on?
Courtney Love and Kevin Bacon kidnapped this little girl for a million-dollar ransom, Mac said.
Huh.
Yeah. Mac met my eyes and hers flashed bright, and I knew we were thinking the exact same thing.
Not a bad idea, actually.
Too bad we don’t know any rich people with little kids, Mac said.
Actually, we do.
KAYOS
I burst through the door expecting the worst. The girls were sitting around the living room, a nearly empty case of beer in the middle of the floor. Thug was curled up on the couch with his nose in Sly Girl’s lap.
Yo, what’s going on? What happened?
You’re here! Mercy said.
Yeah, I left school. Now tell me what the hell’s going on.
We were robbed, Mac said.
Oh shit! How bad?
They took everything.
Seriously?
Everyone nodded.
I sank onto the couch. The cash?
Yep.
The coke?
Everything.
Motherfuckers. Any idea who it was?
Mercy pointed to a red spray-painted mess on the wall. It was the Vipers symbol with a crown on top.
Motherfuckers.
Yep.
This is bad. This is really bad.
But it could be worse, Z said, cracking a beer. We’ve got each other. And we’ve got our health. She reached over and patted Thug’s bum.
Somebody’s been watching too much Oprah, Mercy said.
Z flicked a beer cap at her, stuck out her tongue.
So, what are we gonna do? How much did we have in the safe?
Almost five hundred, Mac said.
Okay, well, that’s not so bad. Yo, we can make that back tonight, easy.
Thousand.
Oh.
Mac nodded, biting her lower lip.
Oh, God. It’s gonna take another year to make all that back!
Maybe not, Mac said. We’ve been talking about some different strategies for our economic recovery.
The others laughed. I could tell they’d been boozing hard all afternoon. Nothing was funny about this situation. Everything we owned had just walked out the door. I wanted to cry.
Mac patted my shoulder. We’ve got—
No, no. Let me guess what you’re gonna say. We cowboy up and get right back out there. It’s all part of the game, right? I said.
Well, yeah, sort of. But we got a new plan to make our money back. Aside from the ATMs, cars, and dealing. Something big, a one-off. It’s low-risk, high-reward.
Yeah? What is it?
Mac grabbed a beer, twisted off the cap, and handed it to me. Mercy’s got an idea.
I took a swig and looked at Mercy, her bare feet up on the coffee table, fingers steepled over her belly, her shiny black hair loose, cascading over her shoulders. What is it? I asked.
A kidnapping, Mercy said.
Really?
Really.
You’re not serious.
Serious as a fucking heart attack.
For real?
For ransom.
A kid?
Uh-huh. It’d be super easy.
But we’d need someone on the inside, Mac said. Everyone looked at me.
Whose kid? My skin felt hot and prickly. I didn’t know where this was heading, but I was getting that heavy, squishy feeling in my guts.
Your sister, Mercy said.
Laura?
She nodded, her face smug.
Oh, guys, I don’t know. That’s …
A brilliant, foolproof idea?
Um …
Pure genius?
I don’t know. I—
Okay, let me tell you something, Kayos. Mercy put her feet on the floor and leaned forward, hands on her thighs. This is our only shot at making that money back in one go. No one has to get hurt, alright? Hell, it’s hardly even illegal since she’s your sister and all; it’ll be like we’re babysitting her for the afternoon.
It’s just that—
Kayos? Down for life, remember? She pulled back her shirt to show her black rose tattoo and the others did the same.
I sighed and took another gulp of beer. Alright, give me the deets. Yo, seriously, how in the hell do you think this is even gonna work?
MERCY
Yes, I’m a bad brown bitch, let it be known. No Mercy. It would be my biggest theft yet, a human being. The greatest part was, since we had Kayos on the inside, it was risk-free. Mac and I talked it out all afternoon from every angle and analyzed every little thing that could possibly go wrong. We drew up a schedule, a timeline, and a map of our locations. We had every detail laid out.
Is this crazy? I asked Mac.
Yep. But it’s also kinda genius.
Is it going to work?
Without a doubt.
The hard part was convincing Kayos. The whole actual kidnapping thing would probably be a cakewalk compared to that.
Look, it’s a simple plan, I told her. We’ll do up the ransom note and be ready to come and get her as soon as your parents go out.
What about me?
You’ll be there. In the house. Say you fell asleep watching TV or whatever.
They’re not gonna fall for that.
Sure they will, why wouldn’t they?
It just seems too convenient. They’ll think—
Don’t worry. They’ll be so upset they won’t put it together.
And you’re not gonna hurt her, right? Nothing’s gonna happen to her …
Come on, Kayos! What do you take us for? We may be gangster-ass muthafuckas, but we’re not child abusers.
Yo, you gotta promise me that nothing’s gonna happen to her, Mercy. Otherwise I’m out. For real. I’m not—
I promise.
Swear on your life.
I swear on my father’s grave. My mother’s too.
And on your life.
I swear on my life.
All of you. Promise. Kayos looked around the room like a cornered cat.
Z held up two fingers. Scout’s honour.
I’m not fucking around, Z! Kayos leapt off the couch. If anything, anything happens to her I’ll—
Chill, Kay, said Mac. Just chill. We’re not gonna let anything happen to her. If she’s your sister, she’s our sister too. Okay? We’re family. We’ll take good care of her, alright? Mac went to where Kayos stood in the centre of the room and put her hand under her chin, forcing Kayos to look up and meet her eyes. Alright?
Alright.
Besides, I asked her, won’t it be nice to get a little coin out of that rich-ass douchebag stepfather of yours? What’s-his-fuck? Roger Jones?
Roger Jones sells homes! Z yelled, raising her beer bottle to the sky.
Sly Girl laughed. We all laughed. Except Kayos.
How much are we gonna ask for in the ransom note? Kayos asked.
A cool million, I said.
She shook her head. That’s too much. He doesn’t have that.
Sure he does. Have you seen real estate prices in Vancouver?
He doesn’t just have money like that lying around, Mercy.
Well, he’ll have to get a loan then, I said.
Why don’t we ask him for a reasonable amount? Something they can actually afford.
Kidnapping is not about making the ransom affordable, I said. It’s about asking for what you want. And getting it. The alternative is not an option, so whatever the amount is, they’ll pay it. They can re-mortgage the house if they have to.
Sounds like you’ve done this before, she mumbled.
Nope, I’m a kidnapping virgin! I raised my beer in a toast, and clinked it against everyone’s bottle.
Not for long, said Z. She smiled at Mac. Mac put her arm around Z and pulled her close.
We need that money, Mac said, watching Kayos with careful eyes. For our new home. Once we get the cash, we can make a deposit on a condo right away, get the fuck out of here. We know they can afford it, Kayos. His ugly mug is on billboards all over the city, for fuck’s sakes. We could probably ask for two mill and he’d pull it out of his ass.
But we’re not greedy, Z said, grinning.
Outside, two people started screaming and swearing at each other, junkies fighting over money or drugs or both. I won’t miss this place, I said. Not one little bit.
MAC
My neighbourhood is a ten-block hell, crawling with the rejects of society. Yeah, I wanna quit the DTES. Yeah, I wanna get the fuck out of Dodge. I’ve wanted to get out of here for as long as I’ve been alive. I want to live on a quiet street where people mow their lawns and barbeque on Saturdays, where they wash their cars, and where kids and dogs can run around and play and roll in the grass without getting pricked by a syringe. Is that too much to ask?
Z
itz Mac’$ birfday. ima pull out all da $topz. got a few bottlza champayne, da reeel good $hit, not dat cheapa$$ $parklee wine, got her a DQ cake w/ happy 18 Mac we ♥ U!!!! on it. & ima $how her my new peece i put up ju$t 4 her. itz her, but az a pin-up grrl. $uper $exy. wearing HI heelz & a red je$$ica rabbit dre$$. blOwing a $moking pi$tol in her hand. O ya. i did it on da wall of da $ugar factoree cuz $he told me $he goez down dere 2 think $umtimes. ju$t $tare out @ da portz & B alone. plu$ $hez $o $weet $o da $ugar factoreez perfect 4 a portrait of her. hahaha. O, god, gimme my Mac. & when she dyez, take her & cut her out in little starz & she’ll make da face of heavn so fyne dat all da wurld will B in love w/ nyte! O god, i love her 2 much. i’m talking capital L-O-V-E, man. seerius. we gonna have fun 2nite tho, boiii! gonna treet my grrl ryte! thingz R $o good w/ her. evn tho all dis $hitz goin down, lyke $ly got fucked up real bad den we got robbed & lo$t evrything, i know itz gonna be OK cuz we got each other. ya, sure, we got da re$t of da grrlz 2, but me & Mac got each other 4 lyfe, know what i’m $ayin? i’m down 4 that grrl 4 lyfe. 4 real. & i know $he feels da $ame 4 me.
SLY GIRL
Mac’s birthday was fun. I got real fucked up. Drank a bottle of champagne and passed out on the couch. I dreamt I was smokin crack and shootin heroin in the kitchen, and Mac saw me but she didn’t care. She just drank some orange juice out of the carton in the fridge like she always does and left me alone. Then I had some nightmares. Real bad ones. About things that happened to me before. Fucked-up things. When I woke up around four in the morning, I was soaked in sweat. I felt like shit and tried to forget all my dreams and all my memories and my whole entire life, but I felt so awful. I wanted a hit real bad right then. All the drugs we had got stoled, though, so there was nothin in the house. Everyone else was in bed. Thug was pawin at the door, so I took him out for a little walk. I thought if I happened to run into someone I knew who had some shit, maybe I’d score. But I didn’t have any cash on me. It all got took when we got robbed.
Down? A guy asked me when I passed the Latino Corner.
I stopped walkin. Nodded slowly. I hadn’t done heroin since before I went to detox, almost a year ago, but I’d thought about it. Every. Single. Day.
Thug let out a low growl as the guy put his hands in his pockets. Whatchu want girl?
H.
How much?
Just a ten bag, but … I don’t have any cash on me right now. Can you front me?
Fuck off, he snickered and waved his hand.
Please, man. I …
He looked me up and down, wrinkled up his nose. Then his eyes fell on Thug.
Thug loo
ked up at him and growled again. I gave his leash a yank and he stopped.
Your dog. He patted Thug’s head.
Yeaah.
I’ll give you a ten bag for your dog.
I looked down at Thug and he looked up at me like he understood what was goin on, his amber eyes all shiny and scared. I looked at the guy. His bony yellow face was shadowed under the brim of his hat. He was no one I knew. I looked at Thug again and he whined.
I, uh, I …
I’ll throw in a couple of Percocets, he said.
I watched Thug step back and forth around a puddle, his muscles ripplin beneath his coat. I thought about how Mac had said he was my responsibility. Thought about how I’d always wanted a dog. For as long as I could remember. And now that I finally had one, I was about to sell him for a hit of lousy Latino smack. I—I can’t. Sorry.
Go on, get your fiending ass outta here then. He spat through his teeth, and a shiny wad landed on Thug’s paw.
Me and Thug hurried away, and I ran him back to the house. I locked all the locks on the door and put the two chains across. I went to my room and curled up on my bed, buried my face in Thug’s fur. I’m sorry, boy. I am so, so, sorry. And then the tears came. I cried hard and long and let Thug lick the tears from my cheeks. Finally, I slept without dreamin.
MAC
I turned eighteen today. In the eyes of the law, I am officially an adult. And I gotta say, for someone who came up like I did, I got things pretty good. As shitty as life has been for me, things are pretty good right now. Hell, I’m surprised I even made it to eighteen, the way my life has played out. But tonight I actually felt like I have a real family. My girls are good to me. They got me an ice cream cake and champagne and we smoked fat blunts sealed with honey oil. Once we all had a good buzz on, Z took us down to the sugar factory and showed us this painting she’d just finished.
I have to wonder what’s going through that girl’s head sometimes, man. She had painted me up there, ten feet high for the world to see. I mean, it wasn’t exactly me, it was like a cartoon, Playboy Bunny me, but you could still tell. There was no fuckin way I wanted my portrait up there for public consumption. I didn’t want to be recognized on the street as that girl from the sugar factory graffiti, you know? I didn’t want the cops to recognize me from it. I was having none of it. I wanted to tell her to paint over it. Right fuckin now. I looked at all the girls, trying to gauge their reactions. Decide how I should handle this.
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