by Karina Halle
We walked into the store and she veered off to my right, walking purposefully down the aisle while I took in a deep breath and approached Mr. Sirk. The minute he looked up from his tattered paperback novel—Tom Clancy—and saw me, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“May I help you?” he asked. He licked his lips nervously. Sometimes I wondered just how scary I looked to people. I mean, sure I was in all black and kinda weird, but still, I was obviously just thirteen. I wasn’t a threat. Then again, people had said that before the Columbine incident, too.
Of course, now I had to distract him long enough for Ellie to steal whatever she was stealing.
I leaned on the counter, noticing him inch back slightly, and said, “Got any comic books?”
He looked slightly relieved. I bet he thought I was going to ask him for hard drugs or something.
“Did you check the magazine rack?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. “Thought I’d ask you first. So do you?”
“No,” he said. He brought his book out and was about to resume reading when I said, “Could you order some in for me?”
Okay, it was lame, and I was seconds from being thrown out of his store, I could tell.
He sighed angrily and said, “Look, kid, this ain’t a library. If you want to buy comic books, I suggest…”
I know he kept talking, but I stopped listening the minute I caught Ellie leaving the store out of the corner of my eye. I tapped the counter with my fist, making the man jump, told him “thank you”, and quickly walked out of the store after Ellie.
She hadn’t looked behind her or stopped until she was well clear of the building. Though she was still limping, she looked casual and carefree, like she hadn’t stolen anything at all. In fact, I couldn’t be sure of it until I was right beside her in the insufferable heat looking down at her jean pocket, which bulged at the front.
“Is that it?” I asked.
She kept her eyes to the road. “Yep. Thanks for that.”
“No problem.” I really, really wanted to ask again about what it was she stole, but from the clipped way she finished her sentences, I knew she wouldn’t tell me. Maybe it was something as simple as makeup.
I chewed on my lip for a second, trying to think of what else to say. My father hadn’t come by yet, but I felt like time was running out.
“You were really good,” I told her.
She shot me a funny look.
I swallowed uneasily. “I mean, you looked natural. Not that I think you always steal shit, it’s just…um, well it was kind of fun. More fun than what I normally do.”
“And what do you normally do? Aside from go to the shrink?”
She was a smart-ass, too. I liked that.
I smiled and brushed my hair behind my ears. “You know. Play guitar, draw, paint, listen to music. Annoy my stepsisters. You?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been learning a lot about harvesting dates.”
“I think you need to get out more,” I joked. “Maybe…”
Ellie looked at me expectantly. It was ridiculous, what I was about to say, but my mouth was moving and the words were coming out before I could stop them.
My eyes dropped to the hot asphalt as a gum wrapper blew past on a stiff breeze. “Maybe…if you wanted…I could show you around town. I mean, if you wanted. Might be nice to know the area before school starts. I could tell you all the kids to avoid…though they’d all say to start with me.”
She was silent for so long that I finally had to look up at her. She was staring off into the distance, at the dry, crackled mountains. Either she was ignoring me or she was lost in her own thoughts.
I opened my mouth to tell her to forget it when she said, “I guess you get bullied a lot, huh?”
I snorted. “Well, yeah. Last year they started calling me The Dark Queen. I’ve been shoved into more lockers than backpacks have. My lips get most of their action from other dude’s fists.”
She looked at me, her gaze leveled. “You sound proud of it.”
I shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s life. Gotta make something of it. I’m not going to stop being me.”
“Is that what you told the shrink?”
I nodded. “Pretty much.”
“But what’s the real answer? Who is the real Camden?”
“Wow. You’re all deep and shit, for a shoplifter.” I expected her to smile at that but she just looked back to the road, just in time to see my dad’s van come down into the parking lot. I took in a steadying breath. “Well, that’s my ride.”
I must have sounded odd to her because her head whipped toward me and she studied my face. “Is that your family?”
“My dad and stepmom,” I said quickly. “They’ll have a heart attack when they see me talking to a girl. Think the shrink scared me straight.”
Her mouth formed an “oh” and I figured she was probably assuming I was gay. I was tired of correcting people though, so I didn’t add anything to that. Besides, maybe she’d think I was less threatening if I was.
The van came to a sudden stop beside me, Raquel getting mild whiplash in the front seat. I was surprised to see my father hopping out and coming around the front of it.
“Dad,” I said nervously.
Only he was smiling faintly, like he was really impressed that I was talking to a member of the female species, and a cute one at that.
“Camden,” he said, his eyes fixed on Ellie. “Who might your friend here be? I don’t think I’ve seen you around, young lady.”
Ellie stuck out her hand and raised her chin to look him in the eyes. There was a hint of detachment in her gaze, like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t.
“Hi, I’m Ellie. I just met your son.”
“Ellie?” he prodded.
She swallowed like something was stuck in her throat. “Ellie Watt. I just moved here.”
My dad’s brows came together like two black caterpillars. “Watt…are you with the folks who are living on Jim’s date farm?”
She blinked in surprise. “Yes, sir.”
He watched her for a few moments, wiggling his jaw back and forth. “I see. Well, welcome to Palm Valley. I’m Camden’s father. Sheriff McQueen.”
The color quickly drained out of Ellie’s face and she nervously rubbed her palms along her jeans. “Oh. How cool.” Her eyes flew to mine for an instant, a mix of disappointment and fear taking them for a second or two. Then her expression was detached again.
I stared back at her, smiling lightly as if to tell her that her secret was safe with me. It wasn’t until my dad told her it was nice meeting her and barked at me to get in the car that I eyed the bulge in her pocket and gave her the thumbs up.
“If you want to hang out,” I started.
“Camden!” my father yelled as he got in the car. “Let’s go.”
Whatever delight my father initially had at seeing me with Ellie was suddenly gone, like he already knew she was the shoplifting type and disapproved.
Still, I had to try. “Do you need a ride?” I asked. I heard my father groan from inside and Raquel telling him to be quiet.
She bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I’m okay. My mom can get me. No. Wait…I can walk home.”
“Phhff, you can’t walk home in this,” I said, glancing at the sun.
“No,” she said quickly, an edge to her voice. I looked at the hardness in her eyes, the trepidation in the whites of them. “Thank you. I’ll walk.”
I gave her an uneasy smile. I didn’t want her to walk, but it was obvious the idea of getting a ride with me and my dad scared the crap out of her. I bet she thought it was a trap and we were going to lead her straight to the police station for questioning.
“Okay, well—”
“Camden!” my dad boomed.
“—I’ll be seeing you. I hope.”
“I’ll see you at school,” she said, giving me a quick wave. I expected her to march off toward the building or maybe down the street, but she just stood
there, waiting, until I was in the van and we were moving away.
I watched her until she was gone; my neck craned around until it hurt. Then I sat back in my seat and let a small smile play on my face. I didn’t know what had happened, but somehow my day turned around one hundred percent. For once, I was able to talk to someone without them being weird about how weird I was. For once, I was able to meet someone who seemed to have secrets and problems of her own.
For once, I met a girl who was cool as hell and totally took my breath away.
And so, naturally, for once, I wasn’t going to let this girl get away that easily.
I had hope.
I spent the next week in a mix of agony and anticipation. The agony was because I was forced to look after the twins, Kelli and Colleen, for two whole days while Raquel attended day school in Palm Springs for floral arrangements or some shit like that. Not only were KC (as I called them), totally spoiled and bitchy, never listening to a word I said, but they were best friends with Sheila Martin. Sheila’s older brother, OJ, was in my grade and hated my guts. When I had to go to their house to pick the twins up and walk them home, it was like ringing the doorbell to Mordor. OJ always had a new insult for me, plus the threat that the minute school started he was going to fuck me up so badly that even glasses wouldn’t help my eyesight.
The scary thing was that he wasn’t kidding. Just before school ended, OJ’s friend Calvin ended up breaking my nose in front of everyone; a good old beat up on the “art fag” after class type of deal. He was suspended, but because it was the end of school it didn’t really matter. My father was furious at me, saying I must have provoked it and, aside from the suspension, Calvin never really got into any shit. In fact, I was sure some punks were looking up to him like he was the king, and now it was like OJ wanted that same kind of fame. Somehow, over the course of the year, I’d gone from a victim of having lunch money stolen and atomic wedgies to being a victim of actual physical violence. I may have joked about it to myself, but deep down inside, it really did scare the shit out of me. That was one thing that Dr. Edison said that struck a chord. This was a military town with military men and ideals. My punishment for straying from that would probably get worse over time.
But along with the agony, there was the anticipation. Hope. Because I’d figured out where Ellie was staying and the easiest way to get there. She’d never come and seek me out, but I could go to her. Let her know her shoplifting secret was still safe with me.
I’d decided that Friday was a good day to do it. I tucked the latest issues of Rolling Stone and Parade into my backpack, along with my mp3 player and a minispeaker. Raquel was back now—our entire house smelled like a jungle thanks to her new fondness for plant arrangements—and I’d earned some money for the horrid babysitting. Most of it went into my piggy bank for that guitar of mine, but I decided to stick a few bills in my wallet in case Ellie wanted to go out and get a Slurpee at the 7-Eleven or something like that. A boy could dream.
I chose not to look as much like a freak that day, but I still wouldn’t pass for normal. I had drawn images up and down my legs with a pen the night before, pretending they were tattoos, so I showed off the dragons and skulls by wearing cargo shorts. My shirt looked like I stole it from Freddy Krueuger. I popped a fedora on my head, a spiked dog collar around my neck, and laced up my vinyl platform boots. I thought I looked one part Monkey from Korn, one part Johnny Depp in Edward Scissorhands.
To get to Ellie’s uncle’s date farm, I had to take the bus that trundled down Main Street then walk for a good forty-five minutes. Luckily, I had left early enough in the morning that the sun wasn’t at full strength, and there was a wind blowing up the valley, making the white blades of the windmills spin hypnotically as it dried the sweat on my skin.
When I finally made it to the street flanked by rows and rows of date palms, I felt like a dying man in the desert. Any dapperness that I might have imagined myself having was definitely gone. I really should have thought this through better. Then again, it was almost funny that I was trying to impress this girl when the first impression she had of me would probably be stuck in her head forever.
I sighed, trying not to inhale the dust that whipped through the columns of trees, and went on until I came to a small house with a cracked tile driveway and a well-kept rock garden filled with every type of cactus you could imagine. I spent my whole life in the dry valley and still found myself romanticizing cacti when I saw them, like they were some strange exotic species.
I was still admiring the cacti when the front door to the house flew open and a woman poked her head out.
“What do you want?” she said in a low, suspicious voice. She was pretty hot for an older lady, a nice face with a pointy chin and sexy, dark eyes. Her hair was dark, tinged with red, auburn, and gold, nice colors to work with—autumn colors, and pulled back from her face. I had a sudden urge to paint her.
“Oh my god, mom,” I heard Ellie’s voice from inside. “I know that boy.”
Ellie’s mother squinted at me then quickly shut the door.
Okay. Well…technically I hadn’t even knocked yet. I could have been a random passerby just admiring a cactus. I stood there for a few moments, trying to figure out what to do, then decided to suck it up. I marched up to the door, still hearing frantic yet hushed voices on the other side of it, and knocked quickly.
The voices stopped. Someone squealed. Then yelled, exasperated in the way only a thirteen-year-old girl who isn’t getting what she wants could. It sounded like Kelli and Colleen times a billion. Then the door opened and I saw Ellie.
She was wearing her jeans again, boots, and a flowery tank top with a bunch of silver necklaces on top, some with cool-looking spikes, others with skulls. Tough jewelry with a girly-looking shirt. I liked the combination. It was very her.
Even now, here, at ten in the morning, her face was contradictory in the same way. Her mouth was indecisive, her lips unsure whether to press against each other in worry or smile, her eyes were wide and nervous, yet hard and steady.
I’d practiced my speech on the way over here, but of course it all came out in a tumble of words and noises now that she was right in front of me and I knew her mother wasn’t too far out of the picture.
“Ellie. Uh. Hi. Hi, Ellie. I…I hope it’s not too early. I didn’t mean to drop by. I mean, I did. But I would have warned you. But I didn’t have your number. So I just…came by. I’m sorry. You’re busy. I’m sorry. It’s…oh, I’m Camden. We met on Monday. At the…place. In town. Where stuff happened.”
I clamped my mouth shut. God you sound like an idiot, I told myself, closing my eyes and trying to keep calm.
“I remember,” Ellie said in an oddly quiet voice. “I’m glad you came by.”
My eyes flew open to make sure she wasn’t joking.
“Really?”
She nodded. “Really. I just had breakfast so…” she stuck her head back around the door and said something to her mother who I knew was just standing off to the left. Ellie looked back. “My mom says it’s okay if I’m back before dinner.”
I grinned, a smile propelled by my heart. “Sure. Great.” I completely ignored the fact that I had no idea what my plan was. I was kinda hoping we could have hung out in her room and listened to tunes and talked, but I got the hint that her mother actually wanted us out of the house and gone.
It was confirmed when Ellie quickly stepped out the door and closed it behind her, without even saying good-bye to her mom.
“Well?” she asked me.
My mouth opened and shut like a fish. “You aren’t going to introduce me to your mother?”
Another weird flash of anxiety came through her eyes. “No. She’s…you know moms. She’s got a migraine.”
I nodded. “Oh, okay, that’s too bad.” I understood.
“No,” Ellie said quickly, placing her hand on my arm. A wave of pleasure shot through me, like art growing in my veins. “No, it’s not like that. She doesn’t care wh
o I hang out with. She’d like you just fine…she just doesn’t feel well right now. And she’s really…weird with people. All people. Strangers. She’s…paranoid.”
“Where’s your dad?” I asked as we walked down the driveway and to the street.
“He’s in town looking for work today,” she said. “Not here, like Palm Valley. But Palm Springs. You know, the casinos on the side of the highway. He was a blackjack dealer back in…where I came from.”
“Out East and south and whatever?” I repeated.
She smiled and fell in step beside me. She was limping but wasn’t as self-conscious about it, which gave her a unique rhythm all her own. “Gulfport. Mississippi. We lived there before the…before we had to come here.”
“Why this place of all places?”
“We like dates?” she suggested. She cleared her throat and then stopped, her attention on one of the date palm rows. “Hey, ever climbed one?”
“Not really on my list of things I like to do for fun. Have you?”
“I can’t.”
I shot her a look. “Afraid of heights?”
She kept her eyes on the palm trees, hesitant to look at me. She waited a few beats before saying, “No. I don’t have…I mean…my leg…I can’t…” She sighed and started walking quickly down the street, her gait stiff again.
I watched her and then trotted after her, holding onto my hat with one hand so it wouldn’t blow away. Once I caught up to her, I grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
“Ellie,” I told her. I let go of her hand once I was certain she wasn’t taking off again. “Ellie, it’s okay, whatever you’re too afraid to say.”
“You think I’m afraid?” she asked defensively. “Of what?”
I smiled gently. “It’s the same look I see when I catch a glimpse of myself in public. I look like…I’m on guard or something. On watch. I look afraid. So do you. But I don’t know what of.”