by Lori Saltis
I want to say we should celebrate, but the ache in the eyes stops me.
“I’ve made some big mistakes. I shouldn’t have run away. I’ve got to go back.”
My throat tightens, making my voice squeak. “Go back? When? I mean… now?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not leaving until we get your family out of here.”
I realize I’m shaking. I can’t stand the thought of being alone, even after we escape from this pit. “You know you can come with us.”
“I know, but I can’t. I have to find out who killed my parents. I have to get justice.”
Justice. The word makes my mouth dry and bitter, maybe because I thirst for it so deeply and don’t know if I’ll ever taste it. One thing I do know is that I can’t deny it to Lennon. All I could think to say is, “Be careful.”
I start to turn away. He catches hold of my hand. A little tug is all that’s needed to move closer, press against him, and wrap my arms around his neck. His arms slide around my waist. Our lips meet. The hesitant touch of his tongue makes me draw away, just a little. What if I never have a chance to kiss him again? My lips part. His tongue twines with mine. Fire sings through my veins. I don’t want to stop.
He’s leaving. He’s leaving. The words echo in my mind, faint at first before becoming louder. My hands move to his shoulders and I step away, holding him at arm’s length before letting go. He’s breathless and his eyes are unfocused. Part of me is pleased, knowing that he wants me. If I let him have me, he’ll stay…
I mentally slap myself. Just the sort of thing Bridie would think. I am not going to be her. I take another step back. “We shouldn’t kiss like that, not if you’re going to leave.”
Lennon fumbles with his glasses before sliding them back up his nose. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Me, too.
We head back through the woods, side by side, not touching, and me wondering if I’m one of his big mistakes.
Chapter 26
Penny
“I can’t decide. You choose.” Bridie holds up two mini dresses.
Back in London, I would have loved making that choice. Bridie would have been stepping out with Matthew or Gerry, or possibly both, all of them dressed in rum riggings. Now, the sparkly, stretch satin fabric, meant to hug every curve, makes me feel ill.
“Neither.”
Bridie huffs with frustration and tosses the dresses onto the bed beside me. Then she turns to the mirror and begins applying her blush with angry strokes of the brush. “I don’t need this attitude. Things are hard enough.”
No kidding. I grit my teeth to keep from saying the words aloud. Nothing motivates Bridie so much as opposition. If I want her to reject Kingfisher, I have to appeal to her motherly instincts. “I don’t want to go to that stupid party. Mikey Boy’s going to be there. He gives me the creeps.”
For a moment, Bridie looks uncertain. Then she shakes it off. “Don’t worry about him. You’ll be with your brother and Lennon. He won’t bother you with them around. If he does, come get me.”
I grab fistfuls of bedspread to contain my anger. It’s like Kevin Anderson all over again. “You don’t get it. I don’t like him and I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”
“Well, it can’t be helped.” Bridie reaches for the shortest and tightest of the dresses. It’s ice blue and trimmed with silver and pink flowers, and barely covers her bum after she tugs it on. “Give us a zip.”
I zip up the back and tug on the hem. For an instant, it sits at mid-thigh before riding back up to near indecency.
Bridie pretends not to notice. She turns to the mirror to apply a thick layer of red lipstick. Then she puckers her lips as if blowing a kiss before addressing my reflection. “We’ve been over this. You have to go. We all do. We don’t have a choice. Besides, you and the boys need to get out of this stuffy trailer for a while. Have some pizza and watch a couple of movies, and I’ll…” She looks down as if unable to meet my gaze. “I’ll come get you when the adult party is over.”
My stomach twists. There’s no avoiding it. All I can do now is deflect my mother’s suspicions. I manage a reluctant smile. “I guess I wouldn’t mind having some pizza.”
“That’s my girl.” Bridie ties a silver and white shawl around her shoulders. Doubt flickers across her reflection and she teeters for a moment on her three-inch, strappy silver heels. Then she gives herself a hard stare and her face seems to age ten years. She turns away and speaks over her shoulder. “Now get dressed.”
After the bedroom door closes, I reach into the closet and pull out a plain, black jersey dress with cap sleeves and a hem that falls to just above the knees. I would have preferred wearing jeans, but that would have made me stand out, as would a pair of sneakers. Instead, I tug on my flat-heeled, black leather boots. Then I grab my black hoodie and head for the kitchen.
Bridie rolls her eyes at the sight of me. Then she looks at Kai and Lennon, who are both wearing dark T-shirts and jeans, and black beanies. Her hands go to her hips. “You lot look like a canting crew going on the dub.”
Lennon’s face goes blank. “What?”
“She said we look like gangsters.” I cross my arms and tilt my chin. “I’m not putting on rum riggings to hang out with a bunch of people I don’t know.”
Bridie waves an impatient hand. “Fine. Suit yourself. Let’s go.” She turns away and opens the door.
Outside, the setting sun has turned the scudding clouds bright pink and blood red. Bridie allows Kai to lead the way down the path to the Wren caravan. Canned music and live singing pour out the open windows. I wince. I don’t usually mind karaoke, but not tonight.
“Sounds like they’re having fun in there,” Bridie remarks brightly. No one replies. A shadow of hesitation crosses her face, quickly replaced by determination as she struts away.
Mrs. Wren, a plump, middle-aged woman with a warm smile, greets us at the door. She ushers us into one of the largest caravans I’ve ever seen. Her husband, bald, jolly Mr. Grosbeak, stands in the kitchen, handing out slices of pizza and cans of soda while calling out encouragement to the kids in the living area playing Rock On on the game console. After getting our food, we slip past the players, who stare at the TV screen intently as they work their fake musical instruments. Other kids are hanging around the kitchen table or lounging on the couch while they wait for their turn to play.
All the girls, even the youngest ones, are wearing sparkly party dresses while the boys are dressed in trousers and designer T-shirts. Aside from a few appraising glances, no one pays much attention to us as we make our way to the darkened back bedroom and squeeze into a corner next to a window. Kids sit on the bed or the floor, their eyes glued to the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie on the widescreen TV. At least Mikey Boy is nowhere in sight. Maybe he’s nicked some beer from the adult party and gone into the woods to party with his friends.
Lennon glances at Johnny Depp before asking, “Any relation?”
It takes me a moment. Then I grin and shove his arm. “Lol. No. Back then, Strowlers didn’t have surnames, not until the 20th century. We traveled in caravans, mostly with extended family, and called the caravans by bird names. When the officials forced us to use surnames, we used our caravan names.” A sad feeling washes over me. I’ve been to plenty of parties like this before. Under any other circumstances, I’d be happy to sit on the bed and eat pizza, and watch the adventures of my non-relative, Captain Jack Sparrow. Instead, I’m hoping to flee this place and our people before the end of the night. It sucks and I let myself have a momentary pity party before getting back to business. I turn to Kai. “Got your phone?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, I forgot it.” He pulls it from his pocket and shows it to me. “I got the alarm set for twenty minutes.”
“Good. I’ll go first. If…” I pause. I can’t say ‘when.’ “If anything happens with Bridie and Kingfisher, I’ll come back here and knock on this window. Then you two come out and meet me, and we’ll go stop
them. Okay?”
They nod. As I brush past them, Lennon catches hold of my arm. I stop. His fingers quickly slide away. He speaks in a hushed tone, his eyes hidden by dark lenses. “Be careful.”
I shrug and continue on my way, though my heart is pounding. I can’t think about it, that he cares about me, that I care about him, so much, and that soon it won’t matter because he’ll be gone.
In the living area, Mr. Grosbeak has taken over on the guitar while his wife sorts through the pizza boxes. I saunter by with an excuse ready on my lips, but neither seems to notice as I slip out the door.
The sky has grown darker during the short time in the trailer. The chill in the air has sharpened. I zip up my jacket and tug on the hood as I creep between the trailers. Then I head across the playground, sticking close to the shelter of the play set. I perch on the bottom of a slide and draw my knees to my chest.
The adult party doesn’t look much different than the kids’ party, though without Rock On. The women all wear colorful, sparkly dresses and the men, trousers and dress shirts. Bridie stands close to the glow of the fire pit, talking to her fellow maid, Lily, and another woman. A man approaches them, carrying four bottles of beer. He hands them out before wrapping his arm across Lily’s shoulder. The four of them clink bottles and drink before they continue chatting. Bridie seems happy and relaxed, though she is taking long pulls off her beer.
I slide up the slick plastic surface. After craning my neck, I spot Kingfisher at one of the grills on the other side of the fire pit. He’s using tongs to turn some kind of meat. A group of men surround him, all talking and drinking beer.
Everything looks so ordinary, boring, even. I slide back down to a perch and rub my cold nose. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe those condoms had been in the drawer before we’d moved in and Bridie hadn’t bothered to throw them out. Hope beats hard and painful in my chest. If only that was true, I could head back to the kids’ party, but I can’t let myself believe it. I stay put.
After what seems more like an hour, Lennon shows up. He’s taken off his glasses, probably so he can see better in the dark. As he takes my place on the slide, he whispers, “Anything going on?”
“Not really,” I whisper back. “How about there?”
“First movie ended. They’re showing Dead Man’s Chest now.”
“Seen it.”
We share a quick, faint smile. Then I head back to the caravan. I tug off the hood and unzip the jacket before going inside.
Though my stomach is in knots, the smell of pizza makes my mouth water. I eat the piece I’d left behind in the bedroom and get myself another. By the time I finish that, the twenty minutes are up. Mrs. Wren now sits on the bed, a girlish glow on her face whenever Johnny Depp shows up. Mr. Grosbeak mans the Rock On drum kit and has his eyes fixed on the screen as I slip out the door.
When I get to the slide, Lennon points out Bridie and her friends sitting at a picnic table, eating and drinking. Kingfisher remains at the barbecue grill. That didn’t change from the time Lennon left and came back. As we exchange places again, the adults finish eating, but keep drinking. Their voices are getting louder.
When I return to the caravan, I find Kai playing a game on his phone. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be keeping time.”
Kai rolls his eyes, his thumbs still tapping the screen. “I set the alarm. It’ll vibrate. I can’t miss it.”
I cross my arms. “I need you to take this seriously.”
He looks up, his thumbs sliding away. “I am taking it seriously. I’m bored.” He nods toward the TV. “I’ve seen this movie, like, a million times.”
“Whatever. I’m going to use the loo.” I go out to the hall and find the toilet door locked. With a gusting sigh, I lean against the wall to wait. Tension and lack of sleep are exhausting me. Maybe I should drink another soda, but then I’ll have to pee again.
The front door swings open. Mikey Boy saunters in, followed by his crew. I edge against the wall into a shadow, but he doesn’t seem to notice me or anyone. He and his friends double over against the kitchen counters, clutching their sides as if attacked by a case of the giggles. Are they drunk? One of them lifts the lid on a pizza box and they grab at the slices as if starved. Okay, stoned. With any luck, Mikey Boy will be too buzzed to notice me.
After I use the loo, I rejoin my brother in the bedroom. “Mikey Boy’s here.”
Kai doesn’t look up from his game. He snorts. “Is he wearing his silver gloves?”
“No. I think he’s stoned.”
“Yeah?” He snorts again. “Tool.” His phone vibrates. He holds up his screen, which blinks with red zeroes. “See? I told you I set the alarm.”
I hesitate. I’ll have to walk past Mikey Boy and his crew, but what choice do I have?
They’re still in the kitchen, devouring the pizza and swilling down sodas. As I squeeze by, the strong, skunky stench of weed makes my nose twitch. Mikey Boy stares at me with bleary eyes as he gingerly touches a purple and black bruise on his chin. Then he points at me with a bobbing finger. “That’s Penny. She can dance.”
The other kids stare at me for a blank moment before another fit of giggles has them choking on their food. I roll my eyes. Whatever. I step outside and close the door. After walking across the path between the trailers, I look back. The door remains shut. Looks like Mikey Boy prefers pizza and weed to pestering me and that’s a good thing.
The faint sound of live guitars playing flamenco music grows louder as I approach the playground. When I reach the slide, I see a group of musicians standing by the fire pit, strumming away as couples dance in the clearing between the barbecue grills and the picnic tables. Bridie remains at the same table, by herself now, while her friends dance.
“Anything?” I whisper to Lennon.
He shrugs. “They all seem more drunk. That’s about it.”
My stomach tenses. Bridie has used alcohol as an excuse before, in particular, when she got pregnant with Kai. “This could be it. Stay by that window.”
Lennon gives a single nod. As he turns away, I grab his arm. I feel him tense under my hand and I let go. “Mikey Boy and a bunch of his friends showed up. They’re stoned.”
“Want me to stay here with you?” The concern in his voice sends a wave of warmth through me. I wish I could touch his arm again.
“No. If we’re both gone too long, people might notice, and I don’t want Kai there by himself.”
“Don’t stick around if he shows up.”
“I won’t. He’s the last person I want to see.” I pause. “Well, second-to-last.”
The dim light shines off Lennon’s brief, white-toothed grin. Then he takes off across the playground.
I tug up my hood as I settle on the slide. The musicians end their tune with a flourish of energetic strums. Then they reach for their drinks from a nearby table and stand in a semi-circle, talking as one of them replaces a guitar string. Kingfisher walks around the fire pit, carrying two beers. He goes straight to Bridie and hands her one.
I jump to my feet. Is this it? Should I go get the boys now? Then Bridie’s friends return, laughing and swaying. Kingfisher strolls away. I exhale. My arms fold tight as a cold wind gusts across the playground. This could go on for hours. Maybe next time, I’ll sneak out a cup of hot tea.
“You spying or something?”
I spin around. Mikey Boy is ambling toward me, his hands shoved in the pockets of his red and white leather baseball jacket. I back away from the slide and into the clearing so I have room to run. “None of your damn business.”
He stops about five feet away. “You watching my dad and your ma?”
I don’t bother answering.
Mikey Boy glances toward the fire pit for a moment. Even in the darkness, I can see the bitterness on his face as he looks again at me. “He wants to replace Doreen with your mom. I can’t stand Doreen, she keeps trying to be my mom and she’s not.”
I want to leave, but he might say something I need to he
ar. The wind picks up again. He weaves in its wake. After a moment of silence, his voice gains heat. “My ma died a while back. Drunk driving. Him, not her, but he covered it up. Made it look like her. I. Fucking. Hate. Him.” He kicks up a foot full of sand.
I step sideways to avoid the gritty spray while fighting an impulse to run.
“He’s the reason I can’t read. He never let me go to school. How am I supposed to be a prize fighter if I can’t read a contract?” Another kick. “Fucking hate him. It’s his fault you all wound up here.”
“What?” I take a step forward. “What do you mean? His fault how?”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to answer and then starts vigorously scratching his head. What the hell? Does he have lice? I really want to leave, but I want to know what he’s talking about.
The energetic strum of guitars makes me swivel toward the common area. Firelight flickered off the grinning faces of the musicians. Having everyone’s attention, they now slow the tempo to a romantic ballad. I suck in my breath as Kingfisher approaches Bridie. He holds out his hand. Bridie sets down her beer. Her hands twist in her lap before she reaches out to him. His arm wraps around her waist, holding her close as they begin to sway in time to the music.
“He wants us to handfast,” says Mikey Boy.
“What?” I reluctantly turn to him again.
“He wants us to handfast. Then he’ll give me my own trailer. We’ll get married when we’re old enough, provided that Chinese kid hasn’t gotten in your pants. If you ain’t a virgin, you’ll be my convenience.”
My mouth drops open. I blink hard. Kingfisher isn’t only after Bridie; he’s after me, trying to trap me in his Nest by making me sleep with his loser son. I give an incredulous laugh before anger heats my words. “Sod off.”
He shrugs. “Hey, it’s not my idea. I don’t want to handfast with anyone. Soon as I get a manager, I’m gonna get the hell outta here, and I don’t want no wife along.”
“Why are you telling all this?”