And that was a typical summer day with Pixie Rae. It set the tone for the rest of my days that summer. They started and ended with her. She had a way of making things better. She was my defender from the bigger kids in the neighborhood. I wished I didn’t need her, but instead of fighting, she put people in their place with her words. And she knew everyone. So walking around with her made me feel like I lived there my whole life.
The fire hydrant. The swings. The library. Early morning basketball games with the crew. We kept each other company and I needed that.
Dad was so far off the wagon he couldn’t even follow the tracks of it anymore. His new job seemed to expect him to go to Tapps with clients to help persuade them to buy or celebrate a sale. But Dad was going there now, even if he hadn’t been to work.
I was disappointed, even though I knew it was inevitable. He couldn’t resist it.
I was able to take money from his wallet for food and stuff. And Pixie and I would pool our money and our various skills to make food at her place.
Ms. Stone was so rarely at home, it’d actually surprised me to hear her voice in the background when Pixie and I were talking out of the window or playing the ball game. Ms. Stone was pretty nice, if fairly distracted. Pixie would defend her mom working so many jobs, even though I didn’t say anything about her being gone. She would bring up that her mom would call every day. It was a sore spot. Pixie was crazy about her mom. I could understand that. Because I really liked my dad when he wasn’t drinking. He was funny and had tons of energy when he was clean. He wanted to do stuff, like play catch or go on a hike when we lived back in the country.
We were deep in summer, thick and lazy in days that seemed to be full of sunlight for twenty-four hours straight, when I heard Pixie and her mom have their first fight.
Pixie asked her, “So you’ll be gone for weeks?”
I didn’t need to see Pixie to know she was stomping her foot.
“This is a real opportunity. Travel is part of it.” Her mom’s voice was lilting, hopeful.
“So take me, too. I’m just hanging around here.” Pixie’s voice was begging.
I felt a swell of panic. I couldn’t do this thing we did every day without her. I felt bad when relief surged through me at her mom’s next words. “No kids allowed, Pixie. And you’ll have school soon enough. You have to get good grades.”
“I hate being here alone. And now I have to do it for weeks? A few days is one thing. But weeks? Is that even legal?” Pixie’s voice was getting high and squeaky. She was usually so measured.
“Wait. You hate it? I thought you were good? You were okay? You know I’ve asked you a million times.” Ms. Stone leaned on the doorframe.
Pixie must have been on her bed. That’s why she sounded so clear. I slinked back a little, dipping into the shadows so her mom wouldn’t see me.
“I’m fine. It’s fine. You have to do what you need to. I’ll be okay.”
The quickest switch. From defiant to understanding. It’d seemed fake to me, but her mom’s shoulders slumped in relief. “That’s good. You were worrying me there.”
“When do you start?” The question Pixie used to slide on her armor. Promising to be the adult. I didn’t do the same things as Pixie, but I recognized the tone in her voice. Something she had to do.
“Next week. We can spend some time together. Oh, wait. I have to do a double shift this week and then work two extra days to catch up in time to take the first travel I have to.” Her mom ducked into Pixie’s room. I could see the silhouette of their hug. I met Pixie’s gaze through the dark.
“It’ll be okay, Mom. Don’t worry.”
I knew Pixie saw me because she gave me a little fingertip wave. I didn’t wave back because I felt like I was watching her heart break. I vowed to talk to her later until she was ready to go to sleep. She could say whatever she wanted. I wouldn’t even tell her she was a motormouth.
Chapter 7
Pixie Rae
MOM AND I went over the different bills that would have to be paid while she was gone. The first travel was going to be five days. The rent came due, so Mom wrote out a check and I practiced signing her name in case of an emergency. I’d slide the check under the door of our superintendent. Things I needed to know while she was gone, she reviewed. The rules she had with me about the door being locked and me not going out at night. Things I already knew. We discussed how I could save on electricity despite me not wanting to spend the night in the dark. She recommended us getting some glow-in-the-dark stickers. I knew it wouldn’t work. Night got to me. I saw things in the dark and it terrified me, even though I knew it was only my imagination. But it was hard to convince my head of reality when my mind was so good at playing tricks on me.
I’d tell her what she needed to hear, though. At least I had Gaze now. Someone. Our summer had been great. Pretty much we were inseparable. He called me a motormouth because I liked to talk, but then he’d tell me it was okay because he liked to listen.
I wished Mom would be home more, but like she said, we had to both make sacrifices. Her new job came with a higher paycheck.
I helped her pack when it was time for her to leave. She cried a little, but I made sure to wait until she had left to cry in my room. Eventually, a Nerf bullet slammed into the wall. I sat straight up, grabbed it, and walked to the window.
Gaze held up the ball with a smile. I nodded. We didn’t have to talk to do this anymore. We went back-and-forth almost thirty times before I threw the wonky one. A new record.
After I got back from saving the ball, Gaze held on to it for a few seconds.
“My window will always be open.” And then he threw the ball.
I knew what he meant, that he’d be there when I was alone. It gave me courage. We got to thirty-five before he had to go get the ball. Another new record.
Chapter 8
Pixie Rae
I WAS WALKING back from the bakery with two bagels in the morning when I saw Gaze’s dad slumped over next to Tapps. He had a black eye and was snoring. I didn’t know what to do, but leaving him there didn’t seem safe. I walked into Tapps, and the place was empty, save for a few men sitting around a table playing cards.
“Excuse me, but do any of you know why my friend’s dad is outside?” I waited, rocking from my toes to my heels.
“Bruce? He drank himself stupid last night and had to be ejected when he tried fighting with everyone.”
“Oh. I can’t leave him outside because he is my friend’s dad, but he’s too big for me to move. Can you guys help me?”
“Leave him. He can behave himself if he doesn’t want to be treated like trash.” The one with the graying brown hair pointed to the door.
I spoke mostly to myself, “I can’t do that,” and huffed before leaving.
I stood there trying to figure out how to get Mr. Jones to at least get up. I tried pulling on his arm, but it fell slack. I tried pushing on his shoulders, but he was just a sack of meat.
Before I could try anything else, the men from the card game came out grumbling. “Where do you want him?”
“Thank you! Just follow me with him. He’s in the building across the street. His son will know what to do.” I led the way while the men hefted Mr. Jones between them, his legs dragging on the sidewalk.
“How old is his son?” the graying hair guy asked me.
“Same as me.” I saw the look that he passed to his friend on the other side of Mr. Jones. Disapproving. I recognized that look. When adults disagreed with how someone was raising their kid. I’d watched teachers share that look when they had concerns about my mother’s schedule. In fact, I saw it so much that I knew not to mention how my mom had to leave so often. And now, I’d have to watch that even more now that she would be gone for giant chunks of time.
I pointed to the stair. “He’s on the fifth floor.”
“Aw, hell no. Ralph, you got the key to the service elevator?” The blond man shuffled Mr. Jones around while he fished in his pockets
for his keys.
I didn’t even know Gaze’s building had an elevator, but sure enough, Ralph motioned for them to go to a set of double doors that I’d never noticed before. They wrangled Mr. Jones into the small space, so I decided to skip the ride up.
“I’ll meet you on the fifth floor.”
When I got to what I assumed was Gaze’s apartment, the men were gone. They must have gone down the elevator to leave. Mr. Jones was lumped in front of the door and I knocked gently. Gaze didn’t answer, so I decided to go back to my place and talk to him from the window. Mr. Jones was at least inside and close to home. The way he was placed against the door, all Gaze had to do was open it for Mr. Jones to fall backward into the place.
When I got to my room, I tossed the ball on the plank and it soared through Gaze’s window. I heard it bounce once and then Gaze was looking at me from the window.
“Your dad is at your door. He’s…” And then I really saw Gaze. He acted like he was dreading what I might say. It was more than just getting his dad home safely. There was the whole aspect of Mr. Jones being in Tapps way too much. And now Gaze had to deal with his unconscious father for the rest of the day.
“Thanks.” He had the ball in his hands. He tossed it back to me and we started the game. I had to get the ball twice because I wasn’t concentrating. But then it was his turn. I waited while he stayed, looking at the ball rolling to a stop on the alley.
I didn’t know what to say. To offer to come help him with his father? But I could tell he didn’t want that. His whole body was tense.
Gaze was still looking at the ball. “Can you close your window? Just for a little while?”
Privacy? Maybe that’s what he needed. He’d already promised me he would never close his. So I did as he asked. I closed the window.
I moved to my mother’s room and watched the ball. No Gaze. He didn’t pick it up in the time it usually took. Which made sense, because his father had to be dealt with.
I waited. And waited. Still the ball lay there. I didn’t want someone to take our ball, so I walked down my stairs and grabbed it. I heard someone screaming. I looked toward the window that was Gaze’s. The clear sounds of punches echoed down to me. Soft crying. More yelling. More punching.
After running all the way up to my place, I went to my window, just in time to see Gaze’s father toss Gaze into his room and slam the door shut. I waited. I knew it was like this sometimes. My neighbors fought sometimes. Of course, they were adults. I saw plenty of fights at school. But nothing had sounded so out of balance to me before. It twisted my stomach and made me angry.
When I saw Gaze look through his window into mine, I could see he had a bruise on his cheek. I held up the ball, and he nodded and then winced.
I learned that night what Gaze’s other secret was. He already knew mine. I pushed my window up and started the game again. We didn’t discuss what I saw. But I knew that Gaze wasn’t always safe. I was scared of the dark, but Mom would never hurt me. I also got the ball for the rest of the night, because I didn’t want Gaze to have to face his dad again.
I was also never going to get Mr. Jones brought home again. He could rot where he slumped as far as I was concerned.
Chapter 9
Gaze
AT THE END of the week, Ms. Stone would be home. Which was good. Because I knew Pixie was having a rough time trying to keep the lights off at night. I even kept one of my lamps on and pointed it into her room to try to help.
I wasn’t afraid of the dark. I was becoming afraid of my father. He’d hit me before, but never like this. The bar was too close. Too expected. And I think he was getting into other things besides alcohol. And with his personality, it wasn’t good.
I popped my head through my window, looking for Pixie. She twirled into view, dancing to her music. She made joy in my heart. Like she was building a snowman in there with her smiles and laughter as the snow.
“Hey.” I watched as she stopped. She wasn’t self-conscious, just curious what I had to say. “You ready for your mom?”
“Oh yeah. I’m going to bake cookies and make sure the place looks clean.” She leaned out and looked for Fat Asshole.
Fat Asshole was the pigeon that had taken to hanging out near our windows. Mostly, he stayed out of the way, but he plucked food out of both Pixie’s and my hands. Hence the nickname.
He was there, but he was acting differently. Funny. Almost limping along the edge of the cement detail that the wood plank leaned on.
“He’s hurt.” Pixie’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Looks like it’s just his foot. Luckily, he has wings. He’ll be fine. And maybe so will our food in the future.” I wanted to play ball for a few, but Pixie’s attention was solidly on the bird.
“No. I can see it. He has a twist tie on his leg. It looks like someone put it on him.” Pixie frowned.
Crap. I hated to see her frown. “Want me to hit him with the ball and see if it will knock off?”
“No! Oh my God, no. You’ll knock him unconscious. Poor thing. The other pigeons will beat him up. They’re vicious.”
She started to climb out onto her windowsill.
“Okay, hold up.” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but she was scaring me a little.
Fat Asshole hopped off the ledge and flop/flew to the center of the plank. Pixie was actually right. The bird was screwed up. I looked at her face. I didn’t want to have her watch something die right in front of her. Even if it was a jerk.
I was small, but I had great balance. “Sporty little thing,” my dad would comment from time to time when I made a good catch or whatever.
After putting my butt on my sill, I swung my legs over and placed them on the wood. “Listen, go get some bread or something and keep his attention.”
I was still holding my weight mostly on my arms. The plank felt pretty steady. There was no wind. A still day, which was probably working against Fat Asshole. He had no currents to coast on.
Pixie was back in the window. She had the tie from a pink robe and a slice of white bread. “I feel like this is stupid.” She was doing the calculations in her head. It didn’t make sense, but I wanted to be a hero for her, a little.
“Just keep him looking at you. That’s all I need.” I eased my weight from the sill to the plank. It held. I inched out a bit, the depth of the height somehow soaring into my stomach and chilling the top of my spine. She was right. This was stupid. I decided not to look down again. I went slowly to my knees, only bouncing Asshole a tiny bit. Pixie tossed out a bit of bread close to the bird. He was a greedy little bastard, so he started peck-eating, even though he was all twisted up. I began crawling out. I heard Pixie inhale sharply. It was scaring her. I was scaring her. My adrenaline became a livewire. I was hyperfocused. I looked down and got woozy.
“Just go back. Forget this bird. I’ll knock him off myself.” Her voice was high and squeaky.
“I don’t think I can.” I tried to slow my heartbeat. There was only forward.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll call the police. Or the firehouse. Just stay still.” Pixie disappeared from her window.
“Wait! Wait! Pix, wait.” I glanced up, and she appeared. “Your mom. We can’t let them find out she leaves you for so long. I think it’s illegal.”
She bit her bottom lip and then shook her head, “No. it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to fall.”
I lied for the first time to Pixie Rae. “This board is getting weak. I need to get over there now.”
It wasn’t weak. It felt strong still, but as I inched out more, it did seem to bow a touch. “Just keep feeding Asshole.”
Pixie was hesitant, but did as I asked. The bird hobble-hopped closer to the bread she was throwing. Luckily, she had a good arm and good aim. I didn’t tell her if she missed her shot Asshole would be dumb enough to plummet to his pancake form in the alley below trying to get the food.
I inched closer. I took a look at his leg. The twist tie was confusing. It was hooked to
his other leg and had a claw pinched in it. Someone tried to tie him up. And all they would have to do was feed him, because I was now inches away from him and he was oblivious. He didn’t even have the common sense to be afraid of me, even though someone had recently messed with him.
I carefully pushed myself up to a crouch. I took a deep breath and snatched up Asshole. Then he freaked out. I wasn’t counting on him fighting as hard as he did. I ducked my head and shoulders trying to avoid his pecking beak. He started nailing me in the fingers. I clamped one hand on his mouth and kept the other around his neck.
As I shuffled, the plank lifted up on one side. With all the motion, the plank was wobbling and I was having trouble finding my center of balance. All of a sudden the plank steadied. Pixie was on the plank with me, using her weight to stop the plank from moving any further.
“Thanks.” I was heaving my breath. Asshole was living up to his name. I was not going to be able to get the twist tie off while essentially on a balance beam. I locked eyes with Pixie who looked petrified. She was gripping the inside of the window, her feet planted on the plank. “Duck.”
She looked confused for a second. “That’s a pigeon. Oh. Wait, you want me to duck.” She leaned forward, leaving a small clearing for a bird to fit through.
I whipped Asshole like a baseball right through Pixie’s window.
“Oh!” Pixie stood back up as Asshole bounced off her back and fluttered back into the room. The movement it took to throw the bird sent me off-kilter again. My only instinct was to run. I hopped as fast as I could, doing my best to maintain my balance with my momentum.
When I finally got to Pixie’s end of the plank, I gripped the sill behind her. We were lip to lip in our very first kiss, heart pounding before either of us even knew what was happening.
It lasted longer than it should because we were both focused on keeping our balance. When I finally pulled back, our feet were solid and the bird was shrieking. I peeked around Pixie’s shoulder, and Asshole was freaking out in her room.
Drowning in Stars Page 4