"Pizza?" Mary was still sad about leaving Grandma Peggy. But it was nice seeing her mommy's eyes look normal. Not wide and nervous and red around the edges the way they were when she was taking drugs.
"Yes, pizza!" Her mama smiled at her. They walked the rest of the block without talking. Then her mother said, "Grandma doesn't think I can make it on my own, right?"
Mary didn't know what to say. She couldn't take sides. Yes, she wanted to be home with Grandma Peggy, but her mama needed her too. Mary shaded her eyes so she could see her better. "Grandma loves you. She wanted us to stay."
Her mother looked at the sidewalk for a few steps. Then in a quieter voice she said, "Maybe someday. When I pay off my debt."
"Debt?" Whatever a debt was it made her mama's shoulders slump. Mary felt nervous about that.
Her mother seemed to study the people in front of them. "I owe Jimbo some money. When I pay it off, maybe I can save up some cash and the two of us can stay with Grandma." She looked at Mary. "I won't do it if I can't pay my way." She paused. "Understand?"
Mary thought about that. Her mother had taught her it was wrong to steal, that people who stole were as bad as people who killed. Maybe if she didn't pay Grandma Peggy it would be sort of like stealing. She nodded. "I understand."
Her mama made a quick turn. "Tell me if you see the cops, okay?"
"Yes, Mama." That was Mary's job. They would find somewhere with people coming and going, and they'd make the people feel sorry for them. That's when the people would pull out money and hand it to her mother. The whole time Mary had to look for police, because police didn't like people asking strangers for money. That was something Mary didn't understand. But there were something called an arrest warrant on her mother for drug charges. Her mama always said she couldn't afford to be questioned by police.
They found a spot outside a diner, and for more than an hour her mother told people she was in trouble, that her wallet had been stolen.
It was getting dark when Mary finally said, "Mommy, can we go? I'm tired."
A couple with nice clothes was coming. Her mother smiled and squeezed her hand. "In a minute, honey." The couple spotted them and slowed their pace. Her mama took a step in their direction. "Excuse me, folks. My wallet was stolen." She looked at Mary for a long time. The longer her mama stared her sad eyes at her, the longer the people would do the same thing. And the more money they'd get.
The woman stopped, her face knotted with concern. "That's awful."
Her mother gave the woman the same look she gave every stranger she talked to. Like this was the saddest day of her life. "My husband left us." She raised her shoulders. "I think maybe if we got a little bit of help we might get back on our feet."
The woman had her pocketbook open before Mary's mother finished her sentence. The woman's husband nodded as the woman pulled out two twenties. "Here. Get a cab and a good dinner. Then get home before something worse happens."
Her mama took the money, and her eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thank you." She smiled at Mary. "These nice people helped us. Isn't that wonderful?"
Mary knew her role. She nodded, though her expression felt blank and hesitant. She blinked at the couple. "Thank you, ma'am . . . sir."
"You're welcome, sweetie. Now get home." She patted Mary's head. "The street's no place for a pretty little girl like you."
It was the same every time. The way it looked to Mary, sometimes the people gave everything they had. Always they did two things. First, they commented on how beautiful Mary was. Never her mother, though she'd been very pretty before the drugs. Mary had seen pictures. But everyone talked about Mary. "My goodness, child, I've never seen eyes like yours." Or to her mother, "Take good care of her—she's a rare little beauty." Something like that.
And second, they'd assume Mary and her mother had a home, somewhere to go back to. As if the biggest problem facing them really was a stolen wallet.
As the couple walked off that late afternoon, her mama chuckled. "Good work, Mary." She slipped the twenties into her back pocket. "We can call it quits for the day."
"How much did we make?"
Her mother took a handful of bills from her pocket and looked at it for a minute. "Two hundred twenty." She beamed at Mary. "If we keep this up, maybe we can get back to Grandma's house in a few weeks."
Mary had been so excited about that news that she twirled around and giggled and took her mother's hand. "That's the best news of the day!"
Her mother laughed—something she rarely did. "Maybe it is."
She led Mary to a diner, and people stared at them as they walked inside. People were always staring at them. Her mama told her it was because they were both so pretty. But the looks people gave them weren't always nice. Mary thought maybe it had more to do with their torn, dirty clothes and the fact that they asked for money.
Her mama stopped a few feet from the counter. "We have to hurry, okay? Jimbo doesn't like it when we're late." She smiled, but fear shone in her eyes. "Jimbo's not very nice to Mama when we make him mad."
Her mother was right. Jimbo could get mean in a hurry. But her mama said Jimbo wasn't all bad. He had bushy red hair and one gold tooth, a tooth that was easy to see because the man smiled all the time. Especially when he looked at Mary. A shiver ran down her arms. "Okay, I'll hurry."
They looked up at the counter, and her mother frowned. Mary thought she understood why. The place wasn't really a diner. More of a tobacco store with a counter display of rotating sausages. The smell of thick grease fought with the smell of cigars. For a minute, Mary thought her mother might take her somewhere else. But they didn't have time.
Her mama breathed out hard in the direction of the man at the cash register. "Where's the diner?"
The man snickered and adjusted a gold chain around his neck. "Got you in here, didn't it, doll?"
Her mother blew at a wisp of her bangs and reached for one of the twenties in her pocket. As she did, she grumbled in a quiet voice, "Why do I stay in this city? All crowded and dirty and full of places like this. It's enough to drive you back to drugs."
Mary must've reacted with alarm at that statement.
Her mama caught her eye as she pulled a bill out. "Don't worry, Mary." She gave a weak laugh. "Sober is sober is sober. Period. I'm just kidding." She looked at the money in her hand. "When I pay off Jimbo, you and me and Grandma will all move to the country."
Mary didn't say anything, but inside she felt relieved. In fact, she felt like twirling again.
"Listen, lady, you're wasting my time," the man behind the counter grouched. "You got an order, or what?"
Her mother put her hands on her hips and stared at the sausage display. "Not much of a choice."
The man was losing his patience. "Here're the choices, lady—cheesy sausage or spicy sausage. Take your pick."
Mary tugged on her mother's shirt. "Mommy?"
"What, honey?" She ran her hand over Mary's bangs.
"Cheesy, okay?" Her voice was small, but it was also certain. Mary knew her mind,- she always had.
Her mother looked up at the man. "My girl wants the cheesy kind."
"Fine." The man tapped the display with a pair of bent-up silver tongs. "Cheesy sausage coming up."
Mary expected it would be served in a bun, but it wasn't. The man simply tossed a yellowish sausage—one with plastic-looking cheese leaking out the sides—into a little cardboard dish.
Her mother brushed her knuckles against it. "It's cold." She shook her head and laid a twenty on the counter. "You rip people off, buddy, know that?"
The man gave her an exaggerated shrug. "Everybody rips off everybody, lady. You too."
Her mother looked like she was about to say something in reply, but she must've changed her mind. Maybe she was thinking about the wallet story and that possibly the guy had a point. Either way, she led Mary to a small table and sat across from her. There was a layer of sticky grease on the Formica finish. "Well, this is dinner." The corners of her mouth lifted
some. "Sorry it's not better."
"Thank you, Mama." Mary sniffed the cheesy sausage and wrinkled her nose. "It smells like cat food."
"It's fine, baby." Her mother nudged her arm. "Go ahead and eat it."
Mary waited. "Can I pray?"
"Pray?" Her mother's mouth hung open for a few seconds. "You mean like Grandma does?"
"Mmm-hmm."
Her mama looked frustrated, but she nodded. "Sure, go ahead."
Mary bowed her head and folded her hands. "Dear Jesus, it's Mary. Thanks for the food. I love You, and—" she opened one eye and looked at her mother—"Mama loves you too." She paused. "Right?"
"Right." Mama looked at her watch. "You need to start eating." She drew a slow breath. "Honey, tonight Mama's going to need more work than what we get from strangers."
Mary felt a little sick to her stomach. "Night work, you mean?" Night work was when her mother dressed in short skirts and high heels and went away for the night with a man. She wasn't sure what went on with the men, but her mother was always quiet and sometimes angry when she came home. Plus Mary had to spend time alone with Jimbo and his wife, and nothing about that felt safe.
"Yes, night work." Her mother leaned her elbows on the table and looked into her eyes. "It'll help us get back to Grandma faster."
Mary tried not to think about that. She chewed her first bite, but she felt her face scrunch up the way it sometimes did before she started to cry. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and put her fingers around the little red purse, felt the tiny beads and the buttoned clasp.
Her mama looked at her. "What do you have?"
"The purse Grandma gave me." She held it up. She'd carried it with her every day since leaving Grandma Peggy's house. The purse felt good in her hands, better than thinking about her mother's night work. "It makes me feel happy when I look at it."
No more questions came from her mother.
Mary hurried and finished the cheesy sausage,- then the two of them went back to Jimbo's apartment.
"You're late!" Jimbo towered near the front door as they walked in.
His wife, Lou, took hold of his elbow. "Ah, give the girls a chance." She pulled him away so Mary and her mother could walk past.
Jimbo shook a fist at her mama. "Don't make me teach you a lesson, Jayne. I need you back here early if you're gonna get work. The customers expect you to be available."
Mary knew what Jimbo was talking about. He wanted her mama to get night work, and that meant she had to be dressed in her short skirt and outside on the sidewalk before it got dark. Mary felt sicker than before, but she wasn't sure whether it was the cheesy sausage or the fact that her mother was going to be gone most of the night.
Her mama tucked her into bed in the room the two of them shared. "See you in the morning." She bent down and kissed Mary's forehead. "I'm sorry about things, Mary. It'll get better."
"I know." Mary reached out and put her hand on the back of her mother's head. "Be careful."
She left then and when she was gone, Mary got an idea. Her mother met up with the men out front on the sidewalk. Maybe if she opened the window she could spy on her mama, make sure she was okay. Mary tiptoed out of bed and opened the window. It stuck halfway up, but it allowed her to see outside. After a few minutes, her mama came into view. She wore a black skirt and black stockings. Her shirt was cut low, and her hair was different than before, bigger.
Mama was out on the street just five minutes when a man crossed the street and walked up to her. He was one of those businessmen who walked up and down the sidewalks of the city, the kind dressed in stiff suits.
Mary watched him stop a few feet from her mama. He looked her up and down. "Hey, baby, you for sale?" He took a step closer. "You look it."
"Maybe." Her mother studied him. In the glare of the streetlight, Mary could see that the man had a fancy watch and nice shoes.
"I got some business associates in town for a three-day meeting." He leaned his head back. His look said he knew her answer before he asked the question. "You up for a three-day job?"
She tapped the toe of her spiked heel and hesitated a long time. "What's the pay?"
The man shrugged. "Fifteen hundred."
Her mother must have worked hard not to react, because she raised her brow and gave him a half smile. "Two grand."
The man laughed. "You're not that pretty, lady." He started to walk past her, but he stopped and pursed his lips, as if maybe he was reconsidering. "Tell you what. . . eighteen hundred, but you do whatever we ask. All five of us." He winked at her. "Got it?"
Her mama's expression changed. She looked sick, the way she did when she drank too much wine. "I have some arrangements to make." She took a step back. "I'll start tomorrow."
The man thought for a minute. "Fine. I'll come for you at eight." He winked at her again. "Be ready ... if you know what I mean."
As he walked off, her mother watched him go. Then she came back inside. Mary heard the door, and real quick she shut the window. Jimbo didn't like the windows open. Bad guys could get in. Mary hurried to the bedroom door, opened it, and listened. Her mother was talking to Jimbo.
"I got a job. Three days straight. Starts tomorrow night."
Jimbo did a slow laugh. "Now that's more like it."
Mary's stomach rumbled, and she couldn't catch her breath. Her mama would be gone for three days? That was too long. Jimbo and Lou couldn't watch her for three whole days. Who would find her something to eat? And where would her mama go? Maybe she wouldn't be safe. She quieted her thoughts and listened.
Her mother was talking. "When I get back I pay you what I owe you." Her voice sounded angry. "Then I'm through with you. No more junk, no more tricks. I'm going home."
"That's your choice, baby." There was still a laugh in Jimbo's voice.
For a little while there was no talking. Then her mother started in again. "One more thing." Her voice was different. Sadder, maybe. "I need you to watch Mary."
"Mary?" Jimbo made a loud whistling sound. "Okay, baby. Might even make some money off her." He chuckled hard. "Those blue eyes and that mop of blonde curls." He laughed again. "Honey-colord skin smoother than caramel ice cream."
"Stop, Jimbo!" Her mother sounded mad.
"Pretty thing like her could probably make more money than you."
"That's not funny!" Her mother was louder now. "You leave my Mary alone, hear me?"
Mary squirmed in the doorway. Maybe her mother would take Mary with her. Or maybe take her to Grandma Peggy's house.
They were still talking downstairs.
"Let up, Mommy." Jimbo wasn't laughing anymore. "Your baby angel's safe with me."
The talking ended, and Mary scrambled back to bed. She slid under the blanket and forced her eyes closed. Please, God . . . no'. Don't let her leave me with Jimbo, please! She reached onto the table near the bed and took hold of her red-beaded purse. Grandma Peggy told her that God had good plans for her. So her mama would have to think of something better than leaving her with Jimbo, right?
She lay there a long time waiting for her mother to come to bed, but finally she fell asleep.
The next day, after they spent another afternoon taking money from strangers, her mother bought her a piece of pepperoni pizza.
Her mama looked her in the eyes and took a long breath. "Mama has to go away tonight, okay? I have some night work, only this time—" her voice cracked, like maybe she was going to cry—"this time I won't come home for three days."
Since her mother hadn't mentioned the work all day long, Mary had hoped maybe it wasn't going to happen. She set her pizza down. "Three days?" She blinked twice, and her chin quivered a little. "Who's gonna watch me?"
Her mama reached across the table and patted her hand. "Jimbo and Lou."
"Jimbo scares me." Mary could hear the whine in her voice. "He always scares me."
"He's teasing you, baby. Jimbo'll take good care of you."
"But, Mommy—" she stuck her lower lip out—"if you
need someone to watch me for three days, how 'bout Grandma Peggy? She'll watch me anytime. That's what she said."
Her mother looked tired and maybe a little angry. "We'll go see Grandma when I get paid. After this job we can move back there, and you can go to school. All right?" She made her voice stern. "No whinin', Mary. Mama doesn't have any choice." She pushed back from the table. "Bring your pizza. We have to get going."
Mary shook the whole way home. What if Jimbo was mean to her? What if he tried to scare her or hurt her? Be brave, she told herself. Be brave and when Mama's done working we can go back to Grandma Peggy's. She could go to school and learn how to read, and one day she would be able to read the books in her pink bedroom all by herself.
They walked a long way, and when they got home her mother sat her on a chair in front of the television. "Stay here while I get ready." She didn't sound scared anymore, but nervous. Like she was in a hurry.
Mary was too scared to say anything.
When her mama was gone, Mary noticed Lou across the room, stretched out on the broken sofa, snoring. A baseball game was playing on the screen, and Mary stared at it. If only there was a way to crawl through the box and wind up in the sunny seats on the other side.
A little while later her mother came back wearing the same short black skirt she'd worn the night before. Her face was made up with extra black around her eyes. She looked at Lou. An empty bottle of wine lay on the floor beside the sofa. "Lou . . ." Her mother shook the woman, but nothing happened. Lou slept most of the time. When she was awake she was always talking about smoking joints. Mama tried again. "Lou, wake up. You're watching Mary tonight, remember?"
A low growl came from Lou's throat, and she mumbled something that barely made sense. She opened her eyes halfway. "Leave me alone."
"Lou, get up!" Her mother shook her one more time. "I have a job."
Lou pushed herself up and rubbed her face. When she was more aware of what was happening, she dropped the corners of her mouth. "You're leavin' your kid with me for three days, is that it?"
Divine Page 4
