Fake: Book One of the Crossroads Series

by Lori Saltis

  Bill comes up behind me. “What’s that?”

  “Something for Mum from the government.” I show him the envelope.

  “I’ll take it.” He avoids eye contact with me as he snatches it away and heads upstairs.

  Looks like someone else wants to hide it, too. Of course, he doesn’t want her to have a green card, not when it means she can get a job, earn her own money and have some independence from him. I’m not about to play his game. I go to the kitchen where Bridie is packing Kai’s lunch.

  “Shouldn’t you be on your way?” she asks. “You’re going to be late.”

  I tell her about the envelope. Her face goes blank. Then she shrugs. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure Bill will take care of it.”

  “What if it’s your green card?”

  “If it is, he’ll give it to me. If it isn’t, well, it isn’t. Bill’s letting his lawyer take care of all the paperwork. I don’t want to bung things up by sticking my nose in. Now, run along. I don’t want to have to drive you both to school.”

  Willful ignorance. What a fine way to start the day. I’m sure it will only get better.

  And it does.

  I find witch stuck to my locker before second period. It’s not in Dani’s handwriting. I rip it off and crumple it in my fist before glancing around. No one in the locker bank is paying any attention, but then again, me getting a note is hardly news.

  “Hi Penny,” Kayla sings out as she spins her combination lock. Her smile makes her look like the cat that swallowed the canary. “Hey, a bunch of us are playing Cards Against Humanity at lunch if you want to join.”

  I do her dirty work and she invites me to the Goth table. Isn’t that grand? I want to tell her to sod off, but it’s not worth the effort. “Can’t. Have to study.”

  “Okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

  I shrug and sort through my books. She sticks to my side all the way to class, prattling about her silly game. I tune her out and eye the people we pass. A guy gives me a thumbs-up. A couple of people swerve to avoid me. A girl crosses herself.

  My stomach twists. Oh bugger. Really? “People think I’m a witch?”

  Kayla’s cheery façade becomes cautious. “Are you?”

  “No.”

  “I heard you cast a spell on Dani and her friends.”

  “What?” Bloody stupid Bleaters can’t tell the difference between spells and curses. “I didn’t cast a spell.”

  “Okay.” She doesn’t look convinced.

  I want to think it’s funny, but I can’t. Back in the day, Strowler women were burned at the stake as witches for telling fortunes, and selling curses and charms. People like to think things have changed, but those people have never been called pikeys and gyppos, or been chased out of town and off public land. Traveling people are still plenty persecuted. It’s easier to call us witches and thieves than to accept us for being different.

  After class, I dash out so Kayla can’t glom onto me. When I get to sewing, Ms. G. greets me warmly. My classmates busy themselves with fabric and yarn. Some even talk to me. It’s been a much better place since Dani and Sarah dropped out. Nobody makes the sign of the cross or the evil eye in my direction. Maybe only Kayla and a few hobs listened to whatever rumors Dani and her friends are trying to spread. Still, I’m cautious as I approach the cafeteria. Parkside Academy has a closed campus, so we’re all stuck in the same room, from the popular jocks to lowly outcasts.

  I hesitate at the entrance, clutching my lunch bag. No one pays me any mind, not when there’s a show to watch.

  The Daisy Chain has become a prayer circle. Dani, Emma and Avery are standing in the center while the other girls lay hands on them with their eyes closed. One girl speaks aloud of “binding Satan” away from them.

  What a joke. How can they bind Satan when they’re the ones doing the devil’s work?

  Kevin and his crew are lounging at the next table, staring at one guy’s phone while passing around the tiny bottles. It’s as if their girlfriends don’t exist.

  The black-clad kids at the Goth table are also holding hands and moaning prayers between giggles. Then one guy stands, raises his hands, and hollers, “Praise Jeebus!”

  Laughter bursts out all over the cafeteria. Even Kevin joins in.

  Much as I enjoy watching the Daisy Chain fail, I know it can’t bode well for me. Lunch in the library sounds like a really good plan. I start backing out. Dani’s eyes pop open. She stares at me across the room. I stare back, into a well of darkness so deep. I can taste her hatred in the back of my throat. It burns like hot coal.

  Before, I was her victim. Now, I’m her enemy.

  Chapter 17

  Lennon

  A sharp whistle pierces the air, followed by a hollered, “Lennon!”

  JJ can be a real pain in the ass. If I weren’t trying to make a good impression, I’d turn around and flip him off. Instead, I stay squatted in front of the Café Gran Via chalkboard, putting the finishing touches on the bunch of grapes I’d drawn next to the wine of the day. When I finish, I take a step back, examining my work with a critical eye. The lettering looks good, all the small plate specials spelled right, including ‘Gambas a la Plancha’, whatever that is.

  “Very nice,” comments Edgar, the café owner, a middle-aged guy with a shaved head and small, gold hoops in his ears. His suit has a shiny texture that sparkles in the sunlight. “Tomorrow afternoon, same time. If you can keep up the good work for the week, you’ve got the job. I can even recommend you to the other restaurants in the area.” He hands me ten bucks.

  “Thanks.” Money earned instead of spanged or stolen. It makes me feel good about myself for a moment.

  “Lennon!”

  Edgar looks across Haight Street at JJ and the crew. He grimaces. “You should stay away from troublemakers.”

  I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Easy to say if you have a roof over your head. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” I shove the cash in my pocket and run across the street. I glare at JJ. “Don’t bug me while I’m working.”

  JJ grins. “What’d ol’ Edgar give you? Chump change? Screw that. We’re gonna make bank.”

  We head for the Panhandle, a long, narrow strip of parkland that runs parallel to Haight Street.

  “Wait. Where we going?” I ask.

  JJ answers, “Creepster Alley.”

  “Again? We were there yesterday.”

  He gives an impatient sigh. “Bro, we gotta go where the tricks can find us. There are only a few places we can pimp ourselves.”

  “What if that guy comes back?”

  “What guy?”

  “That guy we jumped yesterday. The one that said he’s gonna get us.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, what’s he gonna do?”

  And I thought I was the newbie. “I don’t know, like, get a gun.”

  “A gun?” Carl’s eyes go wide and shiny.

  “Pussies,” Sway sneers, but his pace slows.

  JJ rubs his chin. “Okay, look. We’ll go check out the scene. If that guy shows, we’ll bounce back to the crib and wait a few days before we hustle again.”

  That sounds reasonable. The money is too good to walk away from. A couple more robberies and I’ll have enough for a fake ID and a bus ticket to Portland. Once up there, I want to go straight. Earn money drawing chalk signs and whatever else. Being a fake hooker for much longer is too risky. If I’m picked up by the cops, they’ll turn me over to my family.

  We cross over the Panhandle and down another couple of blocks until we get to an elementary school. Creepster Alley runs between the school and an apartment complex. It’s narrow and dark, even at noon, and deserted nights and weekends. That’s when the creepsters roll in, looking for homeless kids turning tricks.

  When we reach the middle of the alley, Carl and I lean against the apartment wall. There aren’t any windows on this side of the building, which is probably why no one complains. JJ lights a cigarette. Sway uses a red Sharpie to add to the graffiti to the wall. I can
’t tell if he’s drawing a devil, a goat, or a devil-goat.

  About ten minutes pass and still no action. A bird chirps in the bushes on the other side of the tall chain link fence separating the alley from the school parking lot. It sounds like a slow alarm. I start shifting from shoulder to shoulder. Carl paces. JJ lights another cigarette. Sway finishes his devil-goat and writes beneath it: “See me bleed”.

  JJ takes a last drag and flicks away the butt. “This is weird. Let’s split…”

  Men come barreling at us from both ends of the alley. I freeze, just like the others. Then JJ calls out, “Shit, it’s Payroll. Run.”

  Payroll. I’d heard other kids whisper about him, a pimp who doesn’t mind damaging the goods.

  The four of us sprint to the chain link fence. I can easily leap over it, but that would mean leaving the others behind, like a coward, someone unworthy to be called a Xia. As soon as we jump onto the links, the men are upon us. They yank my friends down. The one who tries grabbing hold of me gets a kick in the face. Another gets a boot to the chest that sends him sprawling.

  “Cut that shit out,” orders a voice with a twangy accent. It belongs to the shortest guy in the alley. Unlike the other gangsters, who are all wearing hoodies and jeans, he’s dressed in trousers with suspenders over a white wife beater. His brown hair is greased back in a slick mullet and he has one of those weird beards that only covers part of the chin. His eyes are stone cold as he presses the business end of a revolver to Carl’s forehead.

  “Get down, bitch, or he dies.”

  Carl turns sheet white. His blue eyes plead with me for his life. The rest of the crew are being held lock-armed.

  My heart pounds wildly. One wrong move and he could kill all of us.

  JJ’s voice trembles through an attempt to sound persuasive. “Hey, Payroll, it’s cool. We’ll do what you want.”

  Payroll gives a rasping laugh. “Hell, yeah, you’ll do what I want, bitch. You’re all my bitches now.”

  Only one thing can save us: the Dragon Shout. It’s hard, channeling my chi while clinging to the fence. I try taking a deep breath through the panic clutching my chest. Power roils through my abdomen before surging up like vomit. It sticks in my throat. My limbs trembles and I would have fallen off the fence if two of the goons hadn’t hauled me down.

  A gray haze covers my vision. I blink hard and shake my head. Payroll now stands before me. He presses the gun to my forehead, hard, indenting the skin into the bone. My breath starts coming fast. If he kills me, it’s over. Head Elder wins. I’ll never get my revenge.

  “Heard some chink punk was rolling the tricks, scaring off the paying customers.” Payroll steps back.

  His men pat me down. My heart sinks further as one pulls the balisong from my jacket. They shove me to the ground so hard my glasses fly off my face. Pavement scrapes my chin and the septum ring yanks from my nose. Two more men catch hold of my legs and the others my arms, so they hold me spread-eagle.

  A pair of biker boots appears beside my head. I flinch and twist, certain Payroll is about to kick me in the face. Instead, he grabs hold of my hair and yanks so hard my eyes water.

  “Oh, no. We’re not going to mess up that pretty face, even though you messed up my boys with the kung fu karate shit of yours.” The handgun waves in my face. “That shit ain’t shit against bullets, bitch.” Payroll strokes the barrel down my cheek. “We’re done fucking around with you.”

  The barrel traces down my neck and spine, making me tremble. The business end is shoved up my butt. I scream into some guy’s grimy hand.

  “My boys are gonna do you prison style until you beg me to let some trick come in your mouth.”

  Rough hands seize the waistband of my jeans and try yanking them down without undoing the buttons. I squirm and kick, but my legs feel like rubber. They’re going to rape me in the ass and I can’t stop them. No. I have to stop them. I reach out with my mind, groping desperately for Jade Dragon.

  Ancestor, help me. I need your power. Now.

  Nothing. My eyes squeeze shut and I take a shuddering breath, trying to re-channel my chi.

  The click of weapons echoes through the alley. Scuffling noises sound, but no one speaks, not until a voice booms out, “Let them go and we’ll let you live.”

  The gangsters release me and back away. A pair of laced-up leather boots and the tip of a staff appear beside my head. I roll over. A patchwork coat covers the man’s ragged clothes. The wind whips through his wild hair and beard as he stares down at me with inquisitive gray eyes. My heart starts pounding again. Oh shit. I grope for my glasses and shove them on. My septum ring has disappeared.

  The Beggar Chief holds out his hand. “It’s all right, son. You’re safe.”

  I wobble as I stand and quickly let go of the calloused hand. Then I tip over and stumble to regain my footing. A group of the raggedy men and women hold Payroll and his crew at gunpoint. I try sounding clueless as I ask, “Are you the police?”

  JJ gives a nervous laugh. “You kidding, bro? It’s the Beggar Clan. He’s the Beggar Chief.”

  “The what?” I tug my beanie farther down my forehead.

  “John Walks Long, at your service.” The Beggar Chief bows.

  JJ, Carl and Sway all bow back. JJ says, “Walk in peace, Beggar Chief.”

  “Walk in peace, children.” He shakes his shaggy mane. “Though peace is far from this place.” He turns to Payroll. “I know I promised you your lives, but I wish you’d fought back. I only need a single excuse to kill predators like you.”

  “Kill us, you’re a dead man.” The pimp’s shaky voice doesn’t match his words.

  The Beggar Chief turns to a tall woman with a grim face. “Make sure they can’t easily walk away when you’re done with them.”

  The gangsters look alarmed as the Beggars herd them toward the wall while forming a semi-circle.

  John Walks Long makes a sweeping gesture with his staff and start walking toward the end of the alley. I exchange wary glances with the crew before following the Beggar Chief as if he were the Pied Piper. My legs are still trembling, but I can walk without swaying.

  When was the last time I’d seen John Walks Long? Maybe six months ago. That time my parents and I had gone out for pizza on the Italian side of Grant Avenue. We were leaving the restaurant when the Beggar Chief walked by. He and Dad had greeted each other politely. The Two Dragon Clan and the Beggar Clan aren’t allies or enemies, though Dad had allowed the Beggars to look after their interests in Chinatown, as long as it didn’t affect the community.

  John Walks Long had greeted Mom with a polite bow before remarking how much I had grown. Shit. Still, he won’t be expecting the son of the Dragon Son to be turning tricks in a dark alley.

  A cry of pain echoes off the walls. I look over my shoulder, but can’t see beyond the broad backs of the encircled Beggars.

  “What are you gonna do to them?” asks JJ.

  “Broken arm, broken leg, nothing to concern you.” The Beggar Chief raises his bushy eyebrows. “The question is what to do with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We didn’t just happen to be here, my son. I’ve been getting reports about a gang of boys who attack and steal from the men who solicit them. Today, I was told Payroll and his thugs were planning retaliation against those boys. It seems we got here just in time.”

  “How can we repay you?”

  “You can’t.” The Beggar Chief’s voice goes cold. “I don’t want payment from criminals. You robbed those men. Your motives don’t matter. Now those gangsters know who you are. You can’t return to Haight Street. Payroll will come after you when we’re gone.”

  We get to the end of the alley and two Beggars step out of the shadows to stand on either side of their chief.

  “You want us to clear out?” asks Sway.

  “I want you to go home. Your real homes. My people will escort you to the Youth Crisis Center. You will stay and let them help you. If possible, reunite wit
h your families. I don’t want to see any of you on the streets again.”

  Sway clears his throat. “Um, there’s a couple of girls. They’re with us.”

  “They can go with you to the shelter. You can collect them on the way.” John Walks Long examines our reluctant faces. “I’m not asking, boys, I’m telling you. Leave now.”

  I shove my hands in my pockets and scowl with the rest of the crew at the thought of being forced into a youth shelter. I shuffle with them out of the alley toward the Beggars waiting to escort us.

  The Beggar Chief holds out his staff, stopping me in my tracks. He speaks gently. “No, son, you’re not going with them.”

  I go all “huh?” with open mouth and wide eyes. Look at how clueless I am, man.

  I know he isn’t buying it.

  The crew surrounds me. “Why can’t Lennon come with us?” asks Carl.

  “Lennon?” John Walks Long turns to me with a grin that reveals uneven, yellow teeth. “Because he’s coming with me.”

  JJ leans over and whispers to me. “Bro, he must have heard about your kung fu stuff. Maybe he wants you to join the Beggar Clan.” Envy glints in his eyes.

  “Can’t my friends come with me?” I ask.

  The Beggar Chief shakes his head. “Only you.”

  JJ and Sway gave me farewell head nods. Carl and I hug.

  “Thank you.” His voice is hoarse in my ear.

  “Bye.” I step away without looking at him. Will I ever see any of them again? Probably not. I wish I could have said goodbye to Amethyst and Nix.

  While they walk away, I try taking deep breaths without being obvious. The sluggish flow of my chi makes me dizzy. I need a little more time, just a few more minutes, so I can recover enough to attempt the Swift Step or some other means of escape.

  A hand clamps down on my shoulder. The grip feels like an iron band. “Come along, Michael Lau’s son.”