“You’re gonna make me happy, little girl. Now, take your blouse off nice and slow. Let me see those fresh little titties.”
“No!” Lucy felt the terror rising as Pete bore down on her again, grabbed her and threw her down on the bed, his mouth all over hers, stale and stinking of cigarettes. He fumbled under her blouse and grabbed her breasts.
“Wait! I need to go to the bathroom. You don’t want me to pee the bed!”
He laughed and let her up. “Okay, honey, you go freshen up. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Pete lay down on the bed, his arms crossed under his head.
Lucy opened her suitcase. “Gotta get my toothbrush.” She turned her back to Pete, stuffed her purse in the suitcase, rose with her back still to the bed, the suitcase in front of her so he couldn’t see it, and slipped out the bedroom door, closed it and tiptoed down the hall. She peeked around the corner and saw Walt sitting at the kitchen table talking on the phone.
“Yeah, I got thirty bucks for her. I’ll let Pete take her home and we can party when you get home.”
Lucy made a run for the door just as Walt caught sight of her.
“Hey, you little bitch, get back here.” Walt jumped up from the table and ran for the door.
Lucy leapt down the stairs two by two, her suitcase bouncing against the wall. She burst out onto the street and ran back in the direction they had come from. She didn’t stop until she was once again in front of the building where Maisie was supposed to be living. She dropped her suitcase and leaned over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. She looked around to see if Walt was after her, but the street was empty. She thought of Pete and his hairy belly, leaned over once again and puked into the hedge, the stench of digesting peanut butter filling her nostrils. Lucy leaned against the pawnshop door and tried to clear her head. What now?
After a few minutes, she heard the apartment door open. She turned to see an older woman in a purple hat leaving the building. She caught the door before it closed and snuck inside. She faced the stairway but noticed a crawl space to one side of the stairs. She opened the wooden door and saw a swinging light bulb with a chain hanging from it. She pulled the chain and the space filled with light. She crawled in on her hands and knees and closed the door behind her. Crouching in her hiding spot, she sensed the city swirling around her, sirens wailing in the night. The front door clicked open and shut twice, and each time Lucy cringed, certain she would be discovered by someone else wanting to hurt her.
She tried to think of anything else, but her mind kept returning to the Mission. She thought of Kenny. Father Levesque had told them he had drowned, but none of the kids believed it. He was their hero. The one who got away. She felt her heart contract as she remembered their mostly silent moments of connection. She would never forget the day they brought him back from one of his many attempts to escape. He stood next to Brother in front of all the kids in the dining hall, his head down, hands behind his back. The purple-flowered dress Brother had made him wear hung down to his ankles. His head had been shorn and Lucy could see the bloody trails left by the careless razor. Brother beat him that day until he collapsed on the floor. But he never uttered one cry, his defiance all he had left. The next day, after breakfast, in spite of the terrible risk, Lucy managed to slip Kenny a note, stopping in front of him and pretending to tie her shoe. He in turn slipped it into his shoe. She would have been next for a beating and shorn head if she’d been caught talking to a boy. After that day they would look for each other, careful not to draw attention. A smile, a nod, it was enough to make the days bearable.
Finally, the heat of the light bulb in the tiny space and her cramping legs forced Lucy from her hiding place. She crawled out, stretched her legs and sat on the bottom step, too afraid to face the city streets. She watched the dark brighten into day from her step. Too tired to worry anymore, she didn’t even try to hide when she heard someone coming down the stairs. A tall, thin woman walked past Lucy and turned to face her, one hand on the door.
“Who are you?”
Lucy pulled the pink envelope out of her purse. “I’m looking for my friend, Maisie. She sent me a letter and it says she lives here. I was here last night, but it wasn’t her who answered the buzzer.”
“Was that you who buzzed my apartment last night? Maisie lives here, but you buzzed 106 instead of 104.”
Lucy almost cried thinking of Walt and how he tricked her.
“Come on, I’ll take you to Maisie’s.”
Lucy followed her up the stairs, nervous that this might be another trick. The woman knocked at the door at the top of the stairs. Maisie, in a turquoise bathrobe and fluffy bunny slippers, answered the door. Lucy burst into tears.
“Maisie!” She ran to her friend and threw her arms around her, sobbing, her words a cascade of gibberish as she tried to tell her friend what had happened.
Maisie’s arms wrapped around Lucy as she waved and called out her thanks to the tall woman. “She’s my school friend.”
She guided Lucy into the apartment, one arm on each elbow. “Lucy, calm down. Come inside. I’ll make tea.”
3
Maisie
Lucy threw her arms around me so tight I almost lost my balance as I opened the door, gripping my housecoat around me. The words fell out of her mouth like alphabet soup, a garbled, sobbing mess.
“Lucy! Get in here. When did you get into town?” I pulled myself free of her. She felt feverish and looked like she’d slept in her clothes.
“Maisie, thank God I found you.” Lucy hugged me again, this time so hard I stepped right out of my bunny slippers. She took a deep breath and the sobs became more like hiccups than heaving gasps.
“When did you get here? What the heck is going on? Come on, sit down. You’re safe now. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Last night’s clothes and a fake leather paddle strewn in the hallway to the bedroom seemed to fill the whole apartment. I scooped them up on my way to the kitchen and tossed them through the bedroom door.
“I thought he was nice. He brought me here when I showed him your letter.”
“Who? Who did you think was nice? I was out last night.”
“I thought he was just helping me.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Lucy, who are you talking about?” I poked my head through the kitchen pass-through.
“He said his name was Walt.”
I slid the teapot and two mugs through the pass-through and walked around to the living room. “Walt?” I raised my hand above my head. “About this tall? Brown hair, skinny?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t live far from here.”
I sat down beside her. “Lucy, he’s a pimp. Hangs around the Manitou, where I work. He’s a creep, always trying to pimp the working girls.”
“What do you mean, ‘pimp’?” She looked at me and I wondered if I had seemed like such a child when I first hit the city.
“Men who make women have sex for money, then take their money from them.”
Lucy sat so still, frozen almost, looking at her feet. “He tried to. This ugly, stinking man came and tried to touch me.”
“Did he hurt you?” I thought of Walt and his junkie friends. I looked at Lucy and thought I could kill that bastard without batting an eye.
“He tried, but I ran away.”
“Drink your tea. It will calm you. Why didn’t you write me to say you were coming? I would have picked you up at the bus.”
“No time. Sister just came to me one day and the next afternoon I was on the bus.”
“Assholes.” I saw the shock in her eyes. “Ah, don’t look at me like that. Sister isn’t hiding around the corner here.”
Lucy looked around as if expecting to see Sister jump out of the closet or something. I poked her in the ribs.
“Remember the time Sister Mary was yelling at us in the dormitory? That time you forgot your laundry downstairs?”
“Like I could forget.” Lucy wiped her face on her sleeve and smiled.
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“She was so mad, calling you lazy and stupid. And then, when she turned, her habit was stuck up in her bloomers.”
For the first time since crashing through my door, Lucy laughed. “Yeah, and she was stomping out of the dorm all high and mighty with her old baggy bloomers sticking out.” Lucy put her mug on the coffee table for fear it would spill, her body shaking with laughter.
I pushed harder, trying to distract her from the night before. “Remember? We all laughed so hard and she turned on us like an old bear. Didn’t know what was going on. We all shut up, though. Could hardly hold it in, but she was going for her strap.” I reached for my king-sized extra-long cigs. I laughed too, and the memories started flowing between us of the Mission and Sister, and Father, half-deaf and always where you didn’t want him to be.
Lucy inhaled sharply. “You smoke now?”
I laughed. “Like I said, Sister ain’t lookin’ around these corners. These are my corners.” I lit the smoke and inhaled deeply, blowing smoke rings to impress her.
“Wow.” Lucy took in the apartment like she had just arrived. “You live here alone?”
“Yeah, pretty cheap rent.”
“Rent?”
“Yeah, I pay the owner every month so I can live here. That’s what rent is.” Lucy blushed and I knew she felt stupid. “Hey, how would you know? No rent at the Mission.”
I pinched her arm, like we used to when Sister hit us. We pinched ourselves harder and harder so we knew we could take the pain. She smiled at me, with her sad Lucy eyes. I remembered watching her sitting with the little girls but always by herself. Quiet. Always alone. Almost invisible. She pinched me back.
“You can stay here, Lucy. Don’t worry. You gotta sleep on the couch, though. Come to the Manitou with me tomorrow and we’ll make Harlan hire you.”
“We?”
“Yeah, me and Clara and Liz. You remember Clara? She was in my dorm at school.”
“A little. We were never in the same dorm.”
“Harlan can’t live without us. No one else would work in that dive for what he pays.”
Lucy smiled, the excitement clear on her face. My heart sank looking at her, so happy at the prospect of a shitty job with a shitty boss always trying to put his hands on us. But who else would hire a kid like her, fresh out of Indian School? At least at the Manitou, I could watch out for her.
“You must be exhausted. My boyfriend will be here pretty soon. Go wash your face and have a sleep on the couch, if you want. I’ll get you some towels and a blanket.”
Lucy looked at me and raised her eyebrows. “A boyfriend?” Even the word seemed to make her nervous.
“Yes, Lucy, people have jobs and boyfriends and apartments in the real world. Not like being locked up in Indian School.” I walked to the hall closet and pulled out a couple towels and a blanket and handed them to her. “The bathroom is just down the hall, make yourself at home.” The intercom sounded. “That will be Jimmy.”
I buzzed him up and left the door ajar so he wouldn’t have to knock. I turned my back to the door, picked up the empty teacups and slid them through the pass-through. The ceramic mugs clattered against the uneven tile, like the endless clicking of Sister’s rosary beads, slapping against the stiff folds of her rustling habit.
“Fucking bitch.” I slid the mugs toward the sink. I hadn’t thought of her in so long.
“Who’s a bitch?” Jimmy sidled up beside me and put his arm around my shoulder.
“Oh, never mind!” I smiled at him, pushing his hand away as he reached for my boob.
“Aw, Maisie, when am I even gonna get to second base with you?” He shook his head a little, his long braids sliding across his chest. “You know I love you, girl.”
“Sshhhhh! My friend from the Mission is here. She showed up this morning. They just put her on a bus. No notice, no nothing. Walt got his hooks into her. Luckily, she got away from him.”
“Well, at least kiss me!” He pulled me to him, teasing me, pressing me against the wall.
I kissed him lightly. “Yeah? Well, when I see a ring, we will know what’s what.” I looked up into his teasing eyes. He loved me. I knew it. But I wouldn’t let him touch me. I just couldn’t. How could he love me then?
Lucy stepped out of the bathroom just as Jimmy planted a kiss on my forehead. She hesitated and watched.
“You’re such a goody two-shoes.” Jimmy smiled at me. “So, what did you do last night? I came over, but no answer.”
“Aw, nothin’. Harlan worked us to death at the Manitou yesterday. I just came home, had a hot bath and fell asleep. Didn’t even budge till Lucy was at the door this morning.”
Lucy looked at me, puzzled, and I gave her the Indian School “keep quiet” look. She did.
“So, this must be Lucy. Hi, I’m Jim.”
“Hi.” Lucy turned away, not meeting his eyes.
“Don’t worry, kiddo, I won’t tell Sister you were talking to a boy.”
I thought of the fences between the girls and the boys at the Mission, the line dividing us in the classroom, the dining hall, the chapel. I remembered how long it took me to get used to talking to boys any time I wanted, and pinched Lucy. We laughed again. It was like a new world to be with each other again, free of the constant watching eye of Sister Mary. It was both exciting and strange to know that we didn’t have to sneak to talk with each other or use our secret sign language.
Jim shook his head at us. His parents moved, taking him across the line to the States before the priest could come for him, so he didn’t know what it was like. His parents told him about it, because they had gone to one of the Indian Schools, but he didn’t really understand. How could anyone?
“Come on, ladies, I will take you to the Only for soup.”
Lucy laughed. “Ladies.” She looked at me and blushed. “What’s an only?”
“Restaurant in Chinatown. Best soup ever!” I grabbed her sweater and tossed it to her, threw mine over my shoulder, and we headed out. Jim held my hand for a minute, then I pulled it away. He held on to my shirttail instead.
We slid into our favourite booth at the Only, next to the front door and the big windows that gave the best view of the drama playing out in the street. The spicy smells of the Chinese food were still foreign to me even though Jimmy and I came here at least once a week. It really was the best soup ever, and so cheap. It cost less to eat soup here than to make it.
Lucy scanned the menu with a look of panic on her face.
“I’ll order for you, Lucy. Don’t worry.”
Lucy put the menu down, relaxed and focused her attention on the busy street outside. “The Manitou’s just around the corner.” I pointed east in the direction of the motel. “It’s not far to walk from the apartment.”
Lucy suddenly ducked down in her seat below the sill. She looked at me, fear in her eyes, pointing toward the window. I looked out just as Walt was sauntering by. I felt the blood rush to my head, the sounds of the restaurant muted by the pounding in my ears. I jumped to my feet. Jimmy tried to grab me, but I was already out the door.
“Walt, you fucking piece of shit. What the fuck you doing going after my friend?” I strode toward him, tying my hair back as I walked. “Come here, you scrawny fucker. I am going to kick your ass.”
Walt backed away from me. “What the hell are you talking about, Maisie?”
I grabbed him by his shirt collar. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you. She told me. She showed you my letter. You knew she was my friend and you were gonna do her in anyway.” I wound up as if I was gonna punch him and when he pulled his hands up to protect his face, I kicked him square in the balls. He went down like a sack of potatoes. I jumped on him to finish him, but Jimmy pulled me off. “Fuck off, Jimmy. This fucker deserves every bit of it.”
Walt lay curled in a ball, clutching his groin, moaning and crying, as Jimmy pulled me away. I spat on him. “You pig. Next time you want to hurt a kid, you come see me.”
Jimmy put his arm around me, but I p
ushed it away, my heart racing. He grabbed my shirttail and nudged me back toward the Only. Lucy stood in the doorway, her mouth hanging open. “Fuck him, eh Lucy. You don’t mess with Indian School girls.” I grabbed her arm and we headed back to our booth, but one of the Chinese cooks stood in our way.
“You go now. No trouble here. Go on.” He waved his hands at us, his gory apron barely white, his face a picture of exasperation. “You go!”
“No trouble here.” I slid past him and sat down at the booth and started eating my soup. “Just gonna finish my soup.”
“No trouble!” He waggled his finger at me.
I was tempted to bite it off, but instead I showed him my teeth. “No trouble, just soup.” I glanced over the top of my spoon just in time to see Walt limping around the corner. I looked square at Lucy. “You can’t take no shit.”
The next morning, I nudged Lucy awake. The ripple imprints from the corduroy couch cushions striped her cheek, her hair a flat mess on the side she slept on, wild on the side she didn’t. She looked at me, half-awake and confused.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” I stirred the boiling water into the instant coffee crystals. “Do you like coffee?”
“I don’t know. I’ll try it.” She watched me pour the sugar and canned milk and did the same.
We drank our coffee together, both of us quiet. I was sure she was thinking about the dining hall too: the watery porridge, the cold toast, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Sister watching over us like some circling vulture. Indian School seemed like a hundred years ago, but with Lucy in my living room, it seemed like yesterday. Even though it made my stomach tighten when I looked at her and thought of Father, I couldn’t help but think that, in spite of it all, we were here. We made it. I reached over and hugged her. She giggled.
“So, do you have anything else to wear other than those Indian School clothes?” I knew she didn’t. “Come on, let’s get you dolled up.” I lent her my new bell-bottom jeans, but she said no to my best Stones T-shirt. She didn’t like the tongue.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the Two Jays. A buck and a half gets you two eggs, toast, hash browns and coffee. Then we’ll go get Harlan to hire you. You’re gonna have to make some money.” I felt the pressure building, the need to get out. As much as I wanted her there, her presence seemed to suck the air right out of the place. Being close was just too close. Those crowded dorms weren’t easy to forget. I didn’t want her to feel unwelcome, but I had needs. “Before you know it, you’ll be able to get your own place.” I watched her tense up and knew she couldn’t even imagine it. “Hey, it was not even a year ago I left the Mission, and I got my own place. You can do it too, girl.”
Five Little Indians Page 5