by Tim Sabados
His nephew’s eyes widened. He pointed to the shelves behind Sammy.
Sammy smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “What are they doing there?”
Nephew shrugged. “As good a spot as any. They’re a perfect fit.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sammy repeatedly stabbed his finger into the counter. “What did I tell you to do while I was gone?”
“Watch the store and stock the packs of gum.”
“And that was it.” Sammy nodded his head violently. “Nothing else but stock the gum!”
“That’s not entirely true,” his nephew stated simply.
“Not entirely true?” Sammy hissed through the valve of his lips that tried to contain his boiling anger. “How’s that not entirely true?”
His nephew’s eyes narrowed. “You said to straighten up the place. Make it look clean.” A pause. “So I did.” Tipped his chin toward the shelves. “The thing was empty, so I filled it.” Folded his arms over his chest. “Empty shelves don’t make money.”
Sammy eyed the banks that were crammed on the shelf. “Is this all of them?”
“Yes.” His nephew exhaled his displeasure. “They were sitting back there doing nothing. You should be happy.”
“Why should I be happy?”
“Because I sold two of them.”
“You what?” Sammy squeezed his gut in order to contain the lava of irritation that was about to spew out of his mouth.
“I said,” his nephew articulated firmly. “I sold two of them. I don’t know why this is such a big deal. I moved the merchandise and made you money.”
“Big deal? Do you realize that…?” Sammy gritted his teeth. Let the explanation drop. Looked over at the banks once again. Where was the bear? The one holding all the coins? “Tell me that you didn’t sell the bear?”
“The first one,” his nephew said proudly.
The weight of the world fell across Sammy’s shoulders. Clamped his chest. Was this really happening? He fought to keep his breathing steady. Struggled to fill his lungs with air. “Who bought it?”
His nephew shrugged. “Some little girl.”
Sammy sliced the thickened atmosphere with the side of his hand. “There’s no way that some little girl could afford to buy that. No way.” He tensed his entire body. “She had to be with a parent.” Tapped his forehead to jar his thoughts. “Think Sammy,” he mumbled. “Did they use a credit card?”
“Who…the little girl?”
“No,” Sammy answered pointedly. “The parents. Her parents or someone looking responsible. You know—the damn adult she was with. No little girl is going to wander in without one.”
“No one used a card,” his nephew advised. “Paid in cash. It was her allowance money. Her sister bought one of the dogs.”
Sammy gripped the sides of his head. “How am I going to find them?”
“Why do you want to find them?”
“So I can get them back!”
His nephew cocked his head with uncertainty. “You want them back?”
“I was supposed to…they were to go…” Sammy scratched his scalp. He couldn’t come up with a reasonable-sounding explanation except, “They weren’t supposed to be for sale.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place,” his nephew said. “Or else I wouldn’t have put them out.”
Sammy threw his hands on the air. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”
His nephew clicked his tongue. “It’ll break their hearts if you take them back. You should’ve seen how excited they were.” A gesture with his hand. “I don’t think anyone could’ve pried them away.”
The door leading to Sammy’s compassion locked shut. “I’ll give them double, no triple their money back.” A grunt. “That’s if I can find them.”
“Their mom bought some gas.”
“Did she pay with a card?” Sammy questioned with a twinge of hope rising in his chest.
“No. Cash.”
The bottle holding Sammy’s hope shattered. A scoff. “How’s that going to help me?”
His nephew thumbed over his shoulder. “You’ve got all kinds of cameras pointing at all those pumps. If you’re really that desperate you’ll find them getting into their car.” A slow exhale. “You should be able to see their license plate. It can’t be that hard to figure it out from there.”
That bottle started to mend itself. Sammy grabbed his cell from his pocket. Found the contact and dialed. He bound into his office and studied the tiny monitors on his desk. The phone line clicked on. “Hello Ariek. We have a problem. A huge fucking problem.”
10
“Mom!”
Mary kept her hands glued to the steering wheel, her head and eyes forward. If she ignored them, would her daughters give up?
“Mom!”
Of course they wouldn’t. She sighed. “What is it, Mackenzie?”
“Zoe’s picking at her tooth again.”
“You’re being a tattletale,” Zoe said. “Mom, make her stop.”
Mary rubbed her temple. “Mackenzie, we’ve talked about this.”
“You told her not to do that,” Mackenzie stated firmly, “but she’s not listening. Do you want me to lie and not say anything?”
Mary glanced in the rearview mirror. Mackenzie was hugging that dog bank. She gazed back with determination painted across her face. “Never lie.”
“See Zoe…Mom agrees.”
“Mom!” Zoe demanded. “She’s doing it again.”
“Mackenzie,” Mary stated definitively, “leave your sister alone.”
“Why are you yelling at me?” Mackenzie questioned innocently. “She’s the one who’s not being a good listener.”
“Just…” Mary silently grumbled. “Zoe, didn’t I tell you to stop messing with your tooth?”
Zoe was silent for several seconds, then meekly answered. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?”
Zoe shrugged. “Maybe you changed your mind.”
“Mom’s not going to change her mind,” Mackenzie said.
“How do you know?” Zoe fired back. “You’re not Mom.”
“Mom!” Mackenzie called out. “Did you change your mind? Zoe thinks that you did.”
The ends of Mary’s nerves were frayed. She swallowed her frustration before it could spew out in a violent ball of fire. “Will the two of you just…just…” A scream through clenched lips. “Just settle down!” She exhaled sharply. “No one talks for the rest of this trip. And I mean no one.”
Mackenzie buried her face in her dog bank. Zoe zipped her lips shut, looked out the window and wrapped her arms around her bear.
Seconds, then a minute passed without as much as a peep. Ahh, the sweet sound of silence. Mary sighed with relief. Her internal furnace clicked off and the heat of irritation dissipated. She happily nestled into the driver’s seat and loosened her vice-like grip on the steering wheel. She could actually hear the voices drifting from the radio.
“…enjoy the sun while you can. We’ve got a big storm system heading our way and it should reach the listening area by this evening. Expect…”
A gasp rifled from the backseat. “You can’t say that, Zoe.”
“Why? It’s not a bad word.”
“Yes, it is,” Mackenzie said.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes…”
“Mom. Is shits a bad word?” Zoe asked.
Shock zipped through Mary and smashed the quiet she had been enjoying. How did Zoe learn that word? “Umm, Zoe, I think that…”
“Shits is not a bad word, Mackenzie,” Zoe informed her sister confidently.
“Stop saying that. It’s bad.” Mackenzie slapped her hands over her ears. “Mom, tell her it’s a bad word.”
Mary rubbed her eye. She’d have to make it a point to stop swearing in front of the kids. “Zoe…”
“It’s a dog,” Zoe interrupted.
“A dog?” Mary asked uncertainly.
“Shih Tzu,” Zoe stated. “It’s a type of dog.”
Mackenzie gasped. “I forgot about that. Mom, how can shits be a bad word if it’s a name of a dog?”
Mary shifted in her seat. “Are you saying it correctly?”
“Simone’s grandma has one,” Zoe said. “I heard her call it a little shit.”
“I did too,” Mackenzie added.
Mary sighed. “When we get home we’ll look it up to make sure that’s how you say it.”
“How will you know if you have the right kind of dog?” Zoe questioned. “Do you know how to spell shits?”
“Mom knows how to spell,” Mackenzie said.
“I’m just asking.” Zoe adjusted her shoulder belt. “There’s all kinds of dogs out there.”
“Mom,” Mackenzie summoned. “Tell Zoe that you know how to spell…”
“Okay girls; let’s not use that word until we look up how to say it for real.”
“Why, Mommy?” Mackenzie asked cautiously. “Is it a bad word?”
Mary slowly exhaled. “Let’s just not use it, okay.” A pause. “Not for a while.”
“I said a bad word, didn’t I?” Shock filled Mackenzie’s voice. “Zoe, you’re the one who made me…” Another gasp. “Mom! Zoe’s picking her tooth again.”
“Zoe, what have I…?”
“I’m not picking at it,” Zoe informed. “It’s out.”
“It’s out?” Mary asked.
“Gross! She’s bleeding,” Mackenzie said with disgust. “Look, Mom.”
“I can’t…I can’t right now.” Several cars had boxed Mary into her lane.
“Don’t swallow it,” Mackenzie stated.
“You swallowed the tooth?” Mary asked frantically.
“No,” Mackenzie answered for Zoe. “Her spit.”
Mary’s gut churned. “Where’s the tooth?”
“Right here.” Zoe held up her clenched hand. Blood-tinged spit seeped though her fingers. “What should I do with it?”
Mary reluctantly reached behind her. “Give it to me.”
The goop-encrusted tooth plopped into her hand. The blob of spit oozed across her palm. Her stomach retched.
“Is there a napkin or something?” Zoe asked with urgency.
“Hold on, honey.” Mary reached for the box of tissues tucked in the space between the seats. She managed to snatch one with the tips of her fingers and held it out for Zoe. “Wad it up and put it in your mouth where the tooth used to be.” Snared another one to wrap the tooth. Another to wipe her hand.
“Don’t lose it,” Zoe commanded.
“I’m not going to lose it,” Mary verified.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Can I give it to the tooth fairy?” Zoe asked.
Mary nodded. “We’ll put it under your pillow before you go to bed.’
“Will she come? What if she decides not to?” Zoe’s voice brimmed with concern.
“She’ll come.” Mary answered. “You better make sure you’re sleeping, or else she might not.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“Even if it storms?” Zoe questioned matter-of-factly. “The man on the radio said it was going to storm. What happens if she doesn’t want to go out in the rain?”
“Trust me,” Mary said. “She’ll be there to take your tooth.”
“I wonder what she does with them.” Zoe said to no one in particular.
“Maybe she gives them to people who need them,” Mackenzie commented.
“Does she, Mom?” Zoe bounced her bear on her lap. “Does she give them to people who need them?”
Mary tapped her finger on the steering wheel. How to answer that? “She might. I’m not sure.”
“Is that why she leaves money?”
“I think so,” Mary answered vaguely.
“How does she know how much to leave?”
Mary sighed. “She just does.” A pause. “That’s her job.”
Zoe slowly nodded her understanding. She looked out the window. “I sure hope she comes and leaves me a whole bunch of it.”
11
Last night’s hangover was the tick that had burrowed into Aryssa’s core and sucked the vitality out of her soul. Her gut bobbed on unyielding waves of nausea. The headache felt like the relentless clash of a sledgehammer against a steel girder. It pounded from somewhere deep in her brain and reverberated against the walls of her skull. Aryssa quietly slipped into the dimly lit dressing room and rubbed her forehead, hoping to soothe it away. It wasn’t working. She sighed feebly.
Behind her the music boomed from the speakers. As usual, they were turned up louder than they needed to be and easily competed with the clamor from the crowd—an energetic crowd, to say the least. Drinks were guzzled. Shots drained. Money flowed. Lights flashed. Men…well, they were being what men are in this place. At least she could find some semblance of peace here in the dressing room.
Aryssa grabbed a nearby chair, slid it just inside the closet and sat. Let the coats, gowns and other stage paraphernalia drape over her. She needed a moment away from the people. The racket. The persistent innuendoes and scummy propositions. She placed her elbows on her thighs and braced her head in her palms. An image of Charlie swirled across her mind causing a brook of embarrassment to trickle through her veins. How could she have left him like that? What had she been thinking?
She could feel the thumping music roll through the dressing-room door. See the flashing lights bounce off the walls. Hear the endless chatter, cheers and sexually infused banter. Did she really have to go back out there? Her desire to dance had left hours ago. Her mood had been trending on a downward slope to screw this shit. Besides, she had already made a few hundred bucks. Wasn’t that good enough?
Aryssa could just go home, take a hit of crush, a swig of bourbon, make some popcorn and maybe even watch a movie. Then again, maybe she should take the time to gather some more rocks before completely calling it a night. The thought nestled against the edges of her sensibility. If she did, then she could get up at a reasonable hour and start her day on the right foot. Clean her apartment. Go to the gym. Buy a few groceries. She sighed gently. Be an adult and apologize to Charlie. A slow nod. Yes, she’d have to do that for sure.
She leaned forward to stand up, but a sudden presence made her stop. The silhouettes of two men appeared at the doorway. One of them motioned into the dressing room.
“You see anything?”
Aryssa slid back in the chair, allowing the clothes to fall over her. She sat as still as she could, barely filling her lungs with air. Anxiety injected itself into her heart and made it beat a little harder.
“It’s empty,” the man said.
Despite all the background noise, Aryssa thought she recognized the voice. Was it Ariek?
“You sure?”
That voice sounded a lot like Sammy.
“I know an empty room when I see it,” Ariek said with a huff of discontentment. “I still think we should use my office.” He pointed down the hall.
“I told you,” Sammy replied. “Can’t trust it.”
“I’m in there all the time. There’s no way that it’s been bugged.”
“Do you really trust the Network? Do you think they trust us?” Sammy paused. “And what about the cops?”
The Network? The cops? Aryssa bit her lip. What were they talking about?
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“Excuse me for being cautious,” Sammy said defensively.
“Cautious? It’s a little late for that,” Ariek said condescendingly.
“Enough already. I’ve owned up to it and I’m taking care of it, too,” Sammy said with a hint of strain in his voice. “Don’t need the constant reminders.” A pause. “If it wasn’t for my nephew, we…”
“There’s no we,” Ariek interrupted. He jabbed his finger. “It’s you. What were you thinking by cramming them into some toy bank for anyone to come and g
rab?”
“Need I remind you how you fucked up the last shipment?” Sammy exhaled through his nostrils like an angered bull. “They almost cut our heads off. I don’t know about you, but I want to keep mine.” A sharp inhale. “There’s no room for this to get screwed up again.”
Aryssa swallowed hard. If they were talking about being killed, what did that mean for her if she was caught listening?
“And you think that I don’t know that?”
“I’m just saying.”
“I don’t need any reminding,” Ariek shot back.
“Neither do I,” Sammy retorted.
They both went silent. Stared at each other. The atmosphere became so thick with tension that it seemed to buckle the walls. It crept into the closet and pressed on all sides of Aryssa, causing her to shift in her seat.
Ariek broke the silence. He sighed. “Look…I agree with you. We need to get this right, or else we’re both as good as dead.” His tone softened. “Have you figured how you’re going to get them back?”
“The brothers,” Sammy answered.
Ariek’s eyes seemed to widen. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I know they’re good, but they come with a price.”
“Forty percent.”
“Forty? Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was,” Sammy answered.
Ariek folded his arms across his chest. “Will we have enough?”
“It’s tight,” Sammy replied. “Very tight. But,” he gestured with his hand, “they have no idea how many are actually in there. And I’m not going to be the one to tell.”
“Don’t look at me to say anything.” Ariek slid his hands into his pockets. “What happens if they decide to count them?”
“They won’t. They know their job and their place.”
“Still, I don’t like the way this is playing out.”
“Neither do I,” Sammy agreed. “We’ve got to get them back. You and I are in no place to do this ourselves. Besides, if things get ugly…” He slashed his hand near his throat. “That’s why I’ve made arrangements for it to be taken care of tonight.”