Mercy had her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised, probably expecting me to explode. Sly Girl just stared up at it in awe; head tilted back, jaw dropped, her droopy eye rolled back. Kayos had her lips pursed; she looked like maybe she wanted to see herself up there instead. But then when I saw the look in Z’s eyes, so hopeful, so proud, just bursting with … with goodness and love, I knew I couldn’t say anything. Except that it was amazing. Except, thank you.
We smoked a joint, then walked home, Z and me linking arms. She’s changed me, that girl has.
Everyone proceeded to get shit-faced, and we made popcorn and played some old-school hip-hop tapes and danced around the living room with our clothes on backwards.
Later, in bed, snuggling under our blankets, Z asked me, So, my lady, how does it feel to be eighteen?
It’s kind of strange, you know? Being stuck in this weird place between being a child and being an adult, and not really ever having been either.
MERCY
I had worked out all the logistics of the kidnapping, and on the weekend I stole a bunch of magazines. When I got home, Sly Girl and I worked on pasting together the ransom note:
On Saturday, Sly Girl would be at the library, waiting and watching for the drop. Kayos would be at home in Shaugnessy, wringing her hands, waiting for her parents to return from the library. Mac, Z, and I would be in the house, taking care of the kid and waiting for Sly Girl’s call. When it was safe, Sly Girl would pick up the backpack and go for a coffee at the Blenz in Library Square. I would meet her there, and drive her and the payload home. Later I’d steal a car and drop the kid off on the Jones’ doorstep late at night—ring the bell and take off. No one would be hurt, and we’d be back on top of our finances. Then we could go condo shopping. Someone should congratulate me. It was the best and easiest money-making scheme I’d ever had.
KAYOS
Friday was a Pro-D day, so I didn’t have school. In the afternoon, Mom was going to a bridal shower in Burnaby, and Roger would be at work. It was the perfect opportunity to get Laura out of the house. All morning I felt like shit. I couldn’t eat, my stomach hurt, and a splintering headache chipped away at my brain.
What’s wrong, sweetie? You don’t seem yourself, Mom said.
Uh, cramps.
Oh, okay. Well, you take it easy today. Watch a movie or something. Take Laura to the park if you want, get some fresh air.
Yeah, sure.
Oh, and if you get a chance, can you throw a couple of loads of laundry in? Thanks, hon.
Mmhmm. I felt a plummeting elevator in my guts. Here I was, about to scam my own mother out of a million bucks. The least I could do was her laundry.
Did you want to come to the bridal shower? We could bring Laura.
No, no. That’s okay. I tried to smile. You have fun though.
Alright. She smiled. Someday we’ll be planning your bridal shower.
Mom!
She gazed at me, and her green eyes filmed over. You’re growing up so fast. I’m so proud of you, Kayla.
I put my head down on the counter.
Do you have a boyfriend?
No.
So it’s just girlfriends you spend all your time with?
Uh-huh.
Well, when do I get to meet them?
I don’t know, Mom.
Do you want to have them over for a slumber party this weekend?
No.
Next weekend?
No!
Do you need some Midol, sweetie?
I lifted my head. Yeah.
She went to the bathroom and came back with two blue pills. She gave them to me with a glass of milk. Alright, I’ve gotta scoot. But have a good day, and I’ll see you around four-thirty or five.
Okay. Bye. Have fun.
She gave me a kiss on the cheek and left. I watched out the window as her little red Beetle pulled away, and then I called Mercy. Yo, it’s me. They’re gone.
Be right there, she said, and hung up.
MAC
I saw my mother today.
MERCY
Alright, they’re both gone. Let’s go.
Mac lay on the couch, staring out the window. She sighed and reached for her cigarettes.
You’re into this, right? You think this is a good idea?
Yeah. It’s a really good idea. If it works.
Oh, it’s going to work. I grinned. I grabbed the ransom note and the car keys. Okay, got everything?
Yeah.
Let’s do this.
My heart drummed against my chest on the drive up to Shaughnessy. But what did I have to be nervous about? This was simple. I did dirt riskier than this every day and had no problems. What was wrong with me? Maybe because it was a new thing. Maybe because I knew it was our only shot at getting our money back. Maybe because I didn’t really like kids. Maybe, in my heart of hearts, I was afraid that something would go wrong.
KAYOS
Okay, here’s a bag with some cookies and juice and stuff in it. This one has some of her toys. I held out two plastic bags to Mac.
Wait, wait. Hold up. We can’t take her toys, Kayos, Mercy said.
Why not? It’ll be better if she can have some familiar things around.
Because it will be obvious that it was an inside job. Think about it. Mercy pried the bunny from Laura’s hands, and she began to cry.
See? You won’t want to listen to that for two days.
I’ll get her some new toys, don’t worry about it. We have to play this cool.
Laura started to scream and freak out. I grabbed the bunny and gave it back to her and she stopped. I wiped the snot from her face with a paper towel. Yo, at least let her have her bunny. One stuffy is believable.
Okay, fine. Whatever.
Just try not to freak her out, okay? She’s … kind of shy.
She’ll be fine. She’s in good hands, Mac said, and hoisted Laura onto her hip. She handed her a cookie from the plate on the counter and Laura sucked on it, watching Mac with her huge blue eyes.
And you gotta feed her like every other hour, just a little bit. Half a banana, a couple cookies, a tiny sandwich or whatevs.
We’ll feed her, Kayos.
But don’t give her any candy or else she gets crazy.
Okay.
So, let’s hear your story, Mercy said.
Okay. I put Laura down for a nap and fell asleep watching a movie on the couch. When I woke up and went to check on her, I found the note in her bed.
And then what do you do?
I call my mom.
Good.
I don’t think we should have any contact until this thing is done, Mac said. Just in case they check your phone records or something.
What? How am I gonna know she’s okay? What if something goes wrong?
Mercy shrugged. You’ll just have to have faith in us I guess.
No. I shook my head. No way. Not for this. You need to text me. Just put it in code. Say the movie was really good, if everything’s okay. Something like that.
They looked at each other.
And say the movie sucked, if shit hits the fan and I need to come down there.
Mac nodded. Okay, that’ll work.
But everything is going to be totally fine, Mercy said. You don’t need to worry about a thing.
She’s right, Mac said. Okay, so here’s the deal: on Saturday at noon, Sly Girl will be stationed at the downtown library. Me, Mercy, and Z will have Laura at home. As soon as Sly confirms that the cash is in the bag, we’ll drop Laura off on the doorstep and ring the bell. You’ll answer the door. Got that?
Yeah.
But you didn’t see anybody drop her off. No car. Nothing.
I didn’t see anything. She was just there on the doorstep.
Right.
She’ll be home safe and sound in less than forty-eight hours, Mercy said as she checked her watch.
I started chewing my nails. Promise?
Relax, okay? This is so easy. You don’t
need to worry about anything.
What if they can’t get the cash?
Mercy looked around the room.
She took in the vaulted ceilings, my mom’s Swarovski crystal collection, the stained glass window over the sink, the marble countertops, the leather furniture.
They will, she said.
SLY GIRL
Mac and Mercy sent me out to sling after they brought Kayos’s little sister home. It was rainin sideways. I didn’t want to be out there. I wanted to stay home with all them and watch Dora the Explorer and look at picture books with Kayos’s sister and eat cookies, but I knew that one of us had to be out there. It was welfare Wednesday and the streets would be hoppin. I took the G-pack and Thug out to our corner. Business was steady from the time I got out there. A couple of Johns pulled up lookin for a date. God, I hated that. Go piss up a rope. Just because I’m Native and standin on a corner in the Downtown Eastside doesn’t make me a whore. There was a time I would’ve jumped into their cars for ten bucks or a line of baby-powdered coke, but now, the thought of doin all those gross sex things made me want to puke. I just shook my head and pointed them toward East Cordova and Gore, my old corner, and held on tight to Thug’s leash.
My old friend Blue came by to cop. I hadn’t seen him for a while, and he was lookin pretty rough. His lips were all purple and puffy, and he had nasty scabs on his face. Me and Blue used to hang out a lot when I was livin on the street. We’d cop together, get high together, look for ground-scores, look out for each other while the other one slept. He was just a little punk Indian kid from Manitoba. Blue worked the Fruit Loop in Stanley Park, sometimes Davie.
Hey, cousin.
Hey, Blue, how you doin? I laughed.
Aw, you know, strikes and gutters. He reached down to pet Thug. You got any Oxy today?
Nah, just rock.
Okay, um, can I get a half-ball?
Sure. So how you been anyways? I slipped him the chunk of crack wrapped in tinfoil as he slid the cash into my other hand.
Well, I got some bad news a couple days ago, actually. He stared at the dirty sidewalk beneath us. He tugged on one of the spikes lining his black hoodie, then jammed his hands in his pockets.
What?
I, um, I’m positive. He shrugged.
Oh.
Uh-huh.
Blue …
Yeah.
Aw, man, I’m sorry. That’s so shitty, eh.
Yeah, kinda sucks. He looked up at me.
I stared into his soft, dark eyes. I thought of all the times we’d shared cigarettes, pipes, needles. I felt a wave surge through my stomach, and suddenly my legs felt like Jell-O. I put my hand on Thug’s head to steady myself.
He looked away. So … yeah. Maybe you should think about getting tested.
I nodded.
I’m sorry, Rachel, he said, clenchin the rock in his fist.
Yeaah.
I gotta go.
I looked down at Thug and he whined and cocked his head to the side the way he does when he knows somethin’s wrong. Then my next customer was pushin cash into my hand before I had a chance to think anymore on what Blue had said.
Z
di$ kid iz pretty damn cute. $he lookz a lot lyke Kayos. same pale red hair, eyez lyke da sea. i think i’m good w/ kidz. dey don’t cry & $ulk around me cuz i’m not hearin it. Laura—we nicknamed her Lil’ Lo—was a bit whinee @ 1st, but now we got her $ettled in, $he $eemz happee E-nuff. Mercy got $um $tuffed animalz & gamez 4 her, we rented $um kidz muvees. evrybudeez Xcited. Mac iz makin food, Mercy iz dancing around & $inging about u$ being millionaire$, & Lil’ Lo & me’$ on da couch watchin Antz. when $he Cs me eating my chocolate bar $he $tix out her lil hand & $ez: COOKIE! & $hez ju$t 2 cute so i break off a peece of my ree$e & give it 2 her. $he $huvs it all in her mouth & putz out her hand 4 another peece. $o i laff & give her da re$t of it.
i think mebbe i’d lyke 2 have a kid 1 day. mebbe me & Mac cood have a kid 2gether. if Mac wuz in2 it, i mean. dat cood be cool.
MAC
What the fuck happened? What the fuck? Z!? What did you give her?
Z’s eyes are huge and scared and we are both staring at Laura lying sideways on the couch with these red welts all over her face and puffed-up chipmunk cheeks. Her breathing sounds like Darth Vader, and her eyes won’t focus.
I don’t know … I don’t know! We were sitting here watching the movie, and everything was fine! Then all of a sudden, she starts making these wheezing noises and her face swells up. I …
Then, both our eyes fall on the orange wrapper crumpled on the floor. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I pick it up.
Did you give these to her?
Just a half of one! A quarter of one! Oh, shit.
Jesus! Fuck!
Mercy skips into the room singing, If I had a million dollars, if I had a million dollars, I’d buy you a fur coat, but not a real fur coat, that’s cruel! She looks at Laura, then looks at us, and then back at Laura. Oh. This isn’t good, is it?
Text Kayos right now.
What should I say? She pulls out her phone.
911. Get down here now. I turn back to Laura. No, wait! Wait. Say, the movie sucked. Here, let’s get her sitting up. I go to Laura and try to prop her up against the couch. She shrieks, her face turning purple, and slumps onto her side. I try to move her again.
Oh no, says Z, covering her ears. Don’t do that.
I turn to her. Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? Huh? Tell me. I turn back to Laura. Shh, you’re okay. Don’t worry.
She stops screaming, but her breathing is plugged. She seems to be choking on her own tongue.
Get me some water.
Z runs to the kitchen, and Mercy picks up a doll on the floor and sits beside Laura on the couch. She makes the doll move in her hands and speaks in a funny squeaky voice. Hey there, little Missy! What’s going on?
Laura’s eyes roll from Mercy to the doll.
Oh yeah, I’m talking to you! You want to sit up and chill out or what?
Laura splutters, giggles, coughs.
Z returns with the water and gives it to me. Mercy manages to get Laura sitting up, and I tilt the glass of water into her mouth. She gasps and the water dribbles down her chin. Bubbles of spit ooze from her lips. I pull up her shirt to wipe it away and see red blotches all over her tummy and chest. Her breathing sounds like a broken radiator.
Is there something in her mouth?
Mercy shrugs. How the hell should I know?
Well, open it.
Open it?
Yeah.
You open it.
Fine. I hand her the glass of water and pry Laura’s mouth open with two fingers. I feel around in her mouth and the back of her throat to see if something is blocking her airway. It’s clear. I get a flash memory of doing a mouth sweep once before, on my mom. Laura starts crying, but Mercy makes the doll dance and talk again, and Laura stops to stare at the doll. But her eyes are glazed and her lips are bluish and her little chest is puffing so hard to get each breath.
Should we … should we call 911? Z asks.
Are you kidding? Mercy says. She’s going to be fine! Look at her, she’s laughing.
It’s half true. She’s smiling a little and drooling a lot. She reaches for the doll and Mercy pulls it away. She reaches again and Mercy lets her have it. She seems like she might be okay. Maybe. Mercy and I look at each other, and I see my own fear reflected back to me in her eyes.
Kayos bursts through the door then. What is it? What’s wrong? She vaults over the couch and examines Laura. Oh my God. What happened?
She ate a peanut butter cup, but she’s totally fine, Mercy says, leaning back into the couch, studying her new manicure.
She’s not totally fucking fine, Mercy! Her lips are blue! Kayos sticks her ear beside Laura’s mouth. She’s not breathing!
She’s breathing.
You fucking idiots. She scoops Laura up and heads for the door.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Mercy leaps of
f the couch. What are you doing?
I’m taking her to the hospital. I’ve got a cab waiting outside.
I’m sorry, but you’re not.
What?
Mercy stands between Kayos and the door. I think you’re overreacting just a teensy bit here. Yeah, okay, we had a little scare, but she’s looking a lot better now, so we can all just relax and stick to the plan. She’s already doing so much better than five minutes ago. Right, Mac?
Probably. I move to stand near Kayos so I can get a better look at Laura. Her skin still has the welts, and sort of a blue tinge.
She needs to get checked by a doctor. It could get worse, Kayos whines.
If you walk out that door, we lose a million dollars.
She could die!
I can’t let you leave, Mercy says, crossing her arms over her chest.
You’re crazy! Kayos pushes past her but Mercy stands her ground in front of the door.
If you want to get past me, you’re going to have to kill me, because I am not letting you fuck up this deal for us.
Hold on, Mercy, Kayos, I said.
In the time it takes to say I’m sorry, Kayos reaches into her waistband, pulls out her gun and shoots Mercy twice in the chest. I reach for my gat as she turns hers on me and pop her in the head before she can pull the trigger. She crumples to the floor, still holding onto Laura with one arm. Mercy slides to the ground in slow motion, leaving a streak of bright blood on the door behind her. I kneel beside her, squeeze her hand.
Mercy! Are you okay?
Yeah, just a scratch. A scratch. She laughs, and blood gurgles out her mouth.
Hang on, you’ll be alright.
I’m sorry, Mac, she whispers. I fucked up.
It’s okay, Merce. You’re gonna be just fine.
Anatomy of a Girl Gang (9781551525303) Page 13
