Paying the Price

by Maria Quick

  ‘I don’t. She’ll come by later. She’s seeing her mom right now,’ I explained, eating the “free” cookie with my $15 coffee to avoid grinding my teeth.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because she told me last night. She is here, okay? Permanently here until she goes away forever. She’s just not here here,’ I emphasized, pointing at the ground.

  She blinked a couple times and slowly sipped her coffee. I had no idea how to explain this. I hated explaining lucies at the best of times, but recently George has helped me out. It’s too infuriating. People have a preconceived notion of what I should be acting like (see above) and since I don’t act like that, it takes a lot of convincing. And even then they still won’t really believe me, so what was the point of even trying?

  But good old George is a go-getter. He is convinced that the next person I tell will believe me. And then if they don’t, the next one will. Why? Because of the magical reason that I am telling the truth. Ah, sparkly. And as we all know, the truth is our friend and will see us through the dark times like the shining beacon of light it is.

  That is, if you’re four. If you’re a little older than that, then you’ll have realized that everyone’s a lying jackass and we’re all out for our own gain. Merry Christmas, one and all.

  If he was here now, he’d be telling me the perfect words to use so she’d be on my side. Since he wasn’t, all I wanted to do was yell at her and maybe kick her stupid shins. Alright, I knew violence was never a convincing argument, but it made me feel better. George had been trying to stop me from getting angry so often, but it was only half-working.

  Ugh, I’d been without him for an hour and already I was missing him. Though I would rather die than admit it to his face, just saying. But I am an asshole, alright? I admit that. I don’t like people, and I don’t want to speak to them. Ever. George brings me out of that black hole. I can see that now. He teaches me humanity in his own special way. I needed him to keep on doing that, so I wouldn’t automatically piss everyone off.

  Oh my God, I needed him.

  I hadn’t realized that before. What’s the saying, you don’t truly miss something till it’s gone? Well, I was surely feeling that. What if George decided that he was bored of helping me and he wanted to leave? Forever leave, as in stop being a lucy. What would I do? Where would it leave me?

  Well, here’s a taster.

  ‘Why are you staring at me like that? I just said I didn’t get it,’ Zainab frowned, giving me a crazy look. I’d weirded her out. By sitting here and thinking. I already knew I did that, but with George by my side it was easier to weather. I’d grown so used to him now that I felt crazy without having a ghost chatter away at me.

  Oh God, I so needed him.

  Okay, focus. If he was here now, what he would he be saying? What would he be telling me to do?

  ‘Why don’t you ask her about herself? It’s not all about you, Ann.’

  Yeah, that sounds like something he’d say. And sound advice, too. People are narcissists, after all.

  ‘Sorry, I was trying to find Leesha. No dice. So, what type of lawyer do you want to be?’ I asked, smoothly changing the subject.

  ‘Type?’

  ‘Yeah, like human rights, prosecutor. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Oh. Defense attorney. That’s the aim, anyway.’

  Huh. I was not expecting that. To admit that you want to defend criminals is quite something.

  ‘Is that because you went to juvie?’

  ‘No. That actually has nothing to do with it.’

  ‘So, why-’

  ‘Why are you asking?’ she interrupted, growing irate. ‘We’re not friends, this isn’t a date. We’re here to help Leesha, that’s all.’

  Wow. That’s what I get for trying to be civil and show interest in people. Whatever. Screw them all.

  ‘Fine, I’ll be in touch,’ I snapped, getting up to leave.

  ‘Wait,’ she sighed, apologizing. I sat back down. ‘It’s a sore subject, is all.’

  ‘Fine. I get it. Have you heard anything about Leesha’s mom?’ I asked, thinking of the only other thing I could ask.

  She shook her head.

  ‘Okay, so we have nothing else to talk about. I’ll be in touch,’ I said again, acting out a little déjà vu.

  ‘Wait,’ she said again, playing her part to a tee.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You really want to know?’

  Sure, why not. It’s not like I had anything better to do today.

  ‘Yes.’

  I regretted saying that when she started nervously tearing at her napkin.

  ‘My uncle was the sweetest guy I ever met,’ she said quietly. Buckle up, folks, we got a tearjerker. ‘He always brought me candy whenever he visited, and he’d tell stories to me and the other kids on his block. He always had a smile on his face. A couple years ago, he backed out of his driveway and hit two kids playing soccer. They didn’t make it.’

  Boom, dead kids. Kinda puts a dampener on a good story.

  ‘In the trial, they painted him out to be a monster,’ she continued, staring into space. ‘A predator, basically. Suddenly, everybody came out with stories that their kids had complained about him. All lies, obviously, but the jury didn’t see that. Neither did my family. I was the only one who still remembered him as my sweet uncle. I was the only one who visited him. He was nothing more than a husk. His attorney, though, was amazing. She tried to show that it was a simple mistake and it could’ve happened to anyone, but the damage by the prosecution was done. He was sentenced for two counts of manslaughter. He’s served six months of a 10-year stretch.’

  I said nothing for a while. I mean, really, what the hell was I supposed to say? I’m sorry your uncle killed two kids? I’m sorry we live in an environment where we believe everything we’re told? I’m sorry that your uncle lost his life due to an unfortunate accident?

  In the end, I opted for a simple comment that pretty much summed it up.

  ‘People suck.’

  ‘Yeah, they do,’ she nodded at me, and we shared a smile.

  Whoa, did we just bond? Did we have a moment? Is this how friendships are made? Okay, let’s not panic. I’ve had moments like this in the past, and I’ve immediately ruined all progress. That was bound to happen again.

  But it didn’t, surprisingly. We talked a little more of her uncle, and then started talking about other stuff. We bought more coffees and made plans to see each other again soon. The intention was to talk about Leesha, but she wasn’t mentioned. It was just two friends, catching up and enjoying the other’s company.

  Maybe I didn’t need George after all. I could do this by myself. With Ally MIA, I needed a new lawyer friend on my side, anyway. Zainab could be that person. She already knew what I could do, and she was ready to support the not-so-innocent. I was certain we’d be seeing each other after Leesha’s case was sorted.

  Yeah, I was convinced. I didn’t need George. I could do this without him.

  25

  It was a good thing I was feeling so arrogant about independence, since George wasn’t even at home. Huh, guess he didn’t need me, either. Can’t say I liked that. Instead I was greeted by Leesha, looking even more worried and awks than I was suddenly feeling. Oh, thank God. I could forget my own issues for a while and concentrate on somebody else’s.

  ‘Everything alright?’ she asked, scrutinizing my worry lines.

  ‘Sure! You?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Silence was my friend, not hers. I leaned back and started counting my fingernails, waiting. I got up to six before she groaned.

  ‘No, it’s my mom. I feel like I’m going to crack,’ she said, sinking back into the wall.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Same as before. You know she’s at work? Like, she literally only took a day off. Oh, she’s faking being upset and all, saying she wants to be busy, but I’m watching her, you know? It’s all an act. She really doesn’t care. It hurts.’


  ‘I may be pointing out the obvious here, but what about not watching her? If she didn’t care a week ago, she’s not gonna suddenly start caring now.’

  ‘Uh, because she’s my mom. No matter what she did-’

  ‘She killed you,’ I reminded her.

  She started pacing through my bed. I think I was starting to piss her off.

  ‘She’s still my mom! God, what is with you? Look, this is complicated, alright?’

  ‘It’s really not,’ I frowned. ‘She killed you. She hated you. She still hates you. End of. It couldn’t be less complicated.’

  ‘She still loved me. She did!’ she emphasized as I dared to open my mouth. ‘In her own way. All parents love their kids, right? Kinda comes with the territory.’

  I thought of my stellar relationship with my dad. We didn’t really speak unless I’d done something wrong. In his eyes, anyway. I’d actually spoken to his best friend more than him this week. Gotta say, wasn’t missing a thing.

  ‘I guess,’ I hazarded. ‘Doesn’t mean they have to like ’em, though.’

  Apparently, she heard something in my tone and slowed down.

  ‘Sounds like the voice of experience.’

  ‘Well, you know how I’m trying to get you justice? That’s what I do with all lucies. It never starts or ends well. My dad doesn’t like it,’ I said, putting it mildly.

  ‘Can’t say I blame him. No offence. I only believe you see ghosts because I am one. Otherwise, I’d still be thinking you were a liar.’

  Story of my damned, sorry life.

  ‘What about your mom?’ she asked.

  Haha, what an easy question for me to answer.

  ‘She’s not around,’ I said after a moment.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, she’s not dead. I don’t think,’ I muttered.

  Well, that got her attention. She stopped pacing altogether and sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting.

  ‘Hit me,’ she said.

  Where the hell do I begin? How could I sum up my messed up life in a few measly sentences? Well, I could give it a shot.

  ‘Well, she left when I was six. Apparently. I literally only found this out on Monday when Tess told me. Before that, I thought she’d skipped out on me when I was still in diapers.’

  ‘That’s weird.’

  Ooh, just wait.

  ‘I know-’

  ‘No, that’s really weird,’ she reiterated, giving me a hard stare. ‘Did you forget or something? Is it even possible to forget something like that?’

  ‘That’s sorta what I’m trying to figure out. George and I are kinda thinking that maybe it was so traumatic for me that I blocked it out of my memory.’

  Her look said it all.

  ‘Like I said, trying to figure it out. But, don’t worry, my life story gets weirder.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘That’s around the time I started seeing ghosts. And you already know my dad’s reaction to that. George thinks I should ask him about all this, but I can’t. He’s already shipped me off to therapy and put me on meds. He’s threatened to stick me in a hospital for good if I mess up again. If I tell him that I can’t remember having a mom for a big chunk of my life, that’d tip him over the edge, you know? And here’s the really weird part. We never talk about her. There are no pictures of her anywhere. My dad’s best friend is staying here right now, and he drunkenly mentioned that they were arguing around the time she, uh-’

  ‘Disappeared?’ she asked, getting the right vibe I was feeling.

  ‘Yeah! I mean, tell me this is weird, right? I’m not crazy, am I? Not about this, anyway?’

  She took a minute to think while I tried to calm myself down. I hadn’t wanted to say any of that out loud; I much preferred to pretend my life was totally fine, as you probably know. But, whatevs. It was a little therapeutic, I guess. And I was hella glad that George was not here. He’d never let me forget this. He’d think I should “do” something about it. Ugh, can you imagine? Thankfully, Leesha understood that all I really wanted was to vent.

  ‘My dad died when I was five,’ was her answer.

  Okay, I was not expecting that.

  ‘Wow, that’s helpful, thanks. I mean, uh, sorry your dad died.’

  ‘I’m not finished,’ she tutted, waving away my weak-ass apology. ‘Believe me, it was incredibly traumatic for me. My mom was already a bitch, and my dad was the complete opposite. I needed him. Even back then, I knew everything was going to change. I missed him like mad. Still do, in fact. It was cancer. I watched it eat away at him, bit by bit, for almost a year. I didn’t really understand cancer, then. All I saw was my dad vanishing before my very eyes. I was there when he took his last breath. I was holding his hand, long after he passed. I felt it grow cold in mine.’

  I don’t think I really kept the horror off my face.

  ‘Okay, you win the parent death game. That sounds utterly horrific.’

  ‘It was. Point is, I remember it,’ she said.

  Yikes. So, I guess I could rule out terminal illness, then.

  ‘So, what the hell did you see?’

  ‘Not a damn clue, but I really don’t think I want to know the answer,’ I shuddered.

  ‘Well, no, but you need to know. Clearly, something happened. Something bad, that you witnessed as a kid. You can’t just forget it all over again.’

  ‘Watch me.’

  ‘Ann, stop playing dumb,’ she sighed. ‘It’s not going to work. It’s going to be in your head. You’ll be thinking about it. You need to know. I think you’ve gotta ask your dad. It’s the only way.’

  ‘Nope, I don’t think I do. I mean, there’s always been a gulf between my dad and me, and it’s only gotten worse over time. I predict in a couple years we won’t even be on speaking terms. I can deal with that. That’s cool.’

  ‘You won’t be able to put this off forever, you know,’ she told me quietly. ‘Something like this... it’s not gonna disappear. It won’t get better on its own. Trust me, I know a little something about hating a parent. And look where it got me.’

  Oh good, so I had that to look forward to. And that was her attempt to convince me to talk to my dad? Uh, no thanks. I’ve seen enough of the lucy life to know that’s it’s so not for me.

  You know, I had enough of other people’s problems to deal with first. Maybe, if all that dried up, then I’d take that trip down memory lane. Until then? I could damn well forget it.

  26

  After our totally fun and carefree chat, Leesha went off to go glare at her mom some more. My house was officially lucy-less. That was fine by me. I had plenty of stuff to do. I took a peek at Leesha’s Facebook. Her mom had posted a photograph of her with sentimental garbage, and people were commenting more sentimental garbage. Nothing new there. For kicks, I also caught up on local news. Apparently, “new evidence” had come to light in a cold case, causing an unsolved murder to finally be put to rest. Terry’s wife couldn’t wait to get a divorce. I did not blame her one bit.

  My vague work done, I sat back and relaxed. I was finally alone, and could have some long overdue me-time. I drew myself a bath, made a huge soda float and settled down to watch a couple movies that George had banned me from watching with him. I was looking forward to a few hours without his incessant rambling throughout a movie.

  That was, until I put on the first one. It was too damn quiet.

  I switched it off almost immediately. It felt wrong, almost as if he’d died or something. You know when you go somewhere with somebody and then they leave and you can’t go back there anymore? Yeah, that’s what it felt like. I couldn’t even relax without him.

  My God, I truly was crazy.

  I sat in silence on my bed, sipping at my soda which now tasted of nothing but sweet distress. George had somehow become a part of me. I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t in my life.

  I also didn’t want to.

  Before I met him, I was a mess. Even more so than now. I
’ve gone into it and brushed past it so many times that I won’t bother going into it again. George came along in the middle of it all and I didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave. Okay, that’s a lie. I didn’t care enough to tell him to leave. I was... was I depressed? Who knows, maybe? Either way, I was in a bad place. I kinda thought “meh” and let him tag along. Six months later, here we are. I’m suddenly realizing that I can’t let him go while he’s starting to drift away. What if he decides he no longer wants to be a lucy?

  What the hell was I going to do then?

  I would help him, obviously, because I had to. Wouldn’t I?

  Would I?

  ‘Hey.’

  Think of the devil, and he will appear. Trying not to jump, I gave George a small wave and a quick once-over to see what he looked like. No anger, relaxed stance, same stupid-ass haircut.

  He looked normal.

  ‘Hey, where’d you go?’ I asked nonchalantly.

  ‘Movies,’ he shrugged.

  ‘See anything good?’

  ‘Yeah, it was amazing. The cinematography was perfect, the whole thing was intense. I kept getting closer to the screen until I accidentally went through it. The room was crowded. The atmosphere was incredible. You would’ve hated it,’ he finished shrewdly.

  ‘Undoubtable. Listen, I want to apologize about earlier.’

  ‘Which part?’

  Ugh, I hated when he did that. Can’t he just accept my blanket apology for whatever the hell I did? Still, I bit my tongue, literally, and swallowed my blood as I answered.

  ‘I do care about Jessica.’

  He staggered back through the wall in surprise and asked me to repeat myself. I told him again.

  ‘You care? About helping people and working toward the greater good?’

  ‘I do,’ I said, as his eyes widened. ‘I didn’t want to admit it earlier because it’s difficult for me to talk to people like this. The last person I could truly speak to was Tommy, and I haven’t really gotten over him. I’ve always cared about justice, but sometimes it gets to me, which is why I take it out on people. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’