by A. C. Wise
The café is cozy, with pressed-tin ceilings holding in warm amber light. Nooks piled with cushions are lit by flickering candles and decorated with hookahs with curling pipes.
“My own creation.” Sapphire takes a sip before leaning back with a contented sigh. “Bombay Sapphire gin, tonic, gin-soaked juniper berries, crushed ice, and a swirl of blueberry liqueur.”
Ruby wraps her hand around her mug, afraid to take a sip. She let Sapphire talk her into an apple tea, which she was instructed to pour over cubes of raw brown sugar and stir with a stick of cinnamon. She usually drinks Tetley with milk, or Folgers with the same, and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself in comparison to Sapphire’s sophisticated palate.
“It won’t bite you.” Sapphire gestures at the tea.
Ruby takes a tiny sip, surprised and delighted. “It’s good.”
“This is perfect. We were destined to meet today.”
Ruby glances around; just looking at the hookahs makes her feel light-headed and giddy. “What do you mean?”
“When my astrologer did my chart last month, she said I would meet someone who would change my life when the moon was in the third phase.”
“You have an astrologer?”
Sapphire waves the question away and leans forward. “Now, I want you to tell me everything that happened with Old Toad Face Forsythe.”
Ruby’s stomach lurches.
Sapphire pats her hand reassuringly, and Ruby takes a deep breath. To her amazement, her voice doesn’t break. When she dares to glance at Sapphire, she sees her rolling her eyes at the circus manager’s behavior, and when Ruby comes to the part about flipping his desk, Sapphire claps her hands.
“You really did that?”
Ruby allows herself a grin.
“Ye gods and little fishes! You must be strong.”
“Little what?”
“Fishes. Something my grandmother used to say,” Sapphire says. “Seriously, how much can you bench press?”
Ruby shrugs. “I never really thought about it.” She toys with her empty mug for a moment before getting up the courage to ask Sapphire about herself.
“What about you? Why do you work for Toad…I mean, why do you stay with the circus if you hate Forsythe so much?”
“All my life I kept hearing I was too tall to be a gymnast—from teachers, coaches, my parents. Everyone wanted me to play basketball.” Sapphire smirks a bit. “When I started looking for a job, it was the same thing all over again. They said the only place for me was in a nightclub, but I wanted to fly. Toad Face gave me a job, so I put up with his shit. Besides, I kind of like the way he trots me out for his investors like a prize pet bird. I keep waiting for one of them to storm off in disgust or accuse him of setting them up, but so far they’ve all eaten up my performances. I guess I give them a kinky little thrill, make them feel like they’re being dangerous and edgy.”
“What do you mean?” Something jolts inside Ruby, confusion that makes her feel stupid, unworldly.
“Oh, honey.” Sapphire’s eyes widen. “I thought you knew.”
Sapphire undoes the choker around her neck, revealing her Adam’s apple.
“Oh. I didn’t… I’m sorry. You must think I’m such an idiot.” Ruby stands quickly, almost knocking over Sapphire’s drink.
Sapphire deftly catches her glass with one hand, and catches Ruby’s wrist with the other.
“Sit your ass back down.” She tugs lightly, and Ruby relents.
She watches out of the corner of her eye as Sapphire replaces her choker, unsure what to do with her hands. Is Sapphire laughing at her? No, her expression is wistful, almost pained.
“I feel like an idiot,” Ruby murmurs.
“Don’t. I’ll take it as a compliment.” There’s a faint hitch in Sapphire’s voice; her half smile doesn’t quite touch her eyes.
“But your costume, how do you…” Ruby stops herself, blushing even more furiously. She sounds like such a rube.
Sapphire winks. “I’m a master at tucking. The feathers help.”
“I just… I’m sorry.”
“Honey, if you apologize one more time, I’m going to get up and walk out. Relax.” Sapphire signals the waiter, and whispers something in his ear before sending him away and addressing Ruby. “Trust me.”
Ruby’s stomach flutters, then does an outright flip when the waiter returns with another blue-laced drink for Sapphire, and something red in a martini glass, which he sets in front of Ruby.
“What is it?” Ruby asks.
“I think I’ll call it a Ruby Crush. Cranberry vodka, blood orange juice, ruby grapefruit juice and just a hint of champagne, shaken, over crushed ice. Pablo is a doll about mixing up my recipes. I’m going to open my own place one day—each room with a different theme—retro-disco nostalgia, afro-future funkadelic, roaring twenties speakeasy glam, and a fabulous feathered aviary. I’m going to hire Pablo right out from under Terry’s nose.” Sapphire gestures toward the bar, then points one glittering nail at the drink. “Give it a try.”
Ruby lifts the glass, afraid of spilling. It’s tart, and the alcohol is stronger than she expected. She does her best not to cough.
“It’s good,” she manages to say.
Sapphire nods her approval. “Good. Now let it do its work. And speaking of, what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.” Ruby takes another sip before she realizes what she’s doing. At least her eyes don’t water this time. “Look for another job, I guess. I can’t go back to the diner. I ended that just about as badly as my interview with Forsythe.”
“Sometimes I wish I had the guts to up and quit,” Sapphire says. “Make a real dramatic exit, you know?”
“Why don’t you?”
Sapphire looks up, surprised. Ruby takes another swallow of her drink to hide her nerves. It warms her more surely than the tea, a fizzy rush through her blood. It occurs to her briefly that she skipped lunch, and putting alcohol on an empty stomach probably isn’t a good idea. But then her mouth is moving, words tumbling out and running away with her.
“You’re beautiful, you could do anything. You’re too good for Toad Face.”
“You really think so?” Sapphire looks as though she’s never considered the possibility, which surprises Ruby.
But doubt flickers in Sapphire’s eyes.
Ruby continues, emboldened by the alcohol and the hint of humanity peeking through Sapphire’s flawless armor. “Sure. We could go into business together.”
“What did you have in mind?” Sapphire purses her lips.
“Cat burglary!” The words slip out before Ruby can stop them. She giggles, then puts a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
She begins to push the martini glass away, but Sapphire stops her, edging it back to Ruby’s side of the table.
“Hang on. It’s not the world’s worst idea.”
“I was just kidding, I…”
Sapphire holds up a hand. She leans forward, her voice conspiratorial and low. “Forsythe has a whole stash of treasure up in the old convent house. Stuff that should be in a museum. Half of it was probably stolen by his great grandpappy or something. Anyway, he always travels with at least part of his collection, something else to trot out for the big-wig investors. Honey, you should see the way he puffs up when he’s showing it off. Just like a…”
“Toad?”
“Exactly!” Sapphire strikes the table with both hands, then glances around and drops her voice again. “But think about it, your strength, my agility—we could be in and out and gone before Forsythe could say ‘ribbit.’”
“I don’t think toads say ‘ribbit,’” Ruby says.
“We could go anywhere! Mexico! Paris! Rome!”
“Shh.”
“Sorry. But really. Ruby and Sapphire, international jewel thieves.” Sapphire catches both of Ruby’s hands, squeezing.
“Seriously?”
The room swims, not just Ruby’s head. But she can picture it, both of them dressed in
fine silk, drinking champagne under the Eiffel Tower, each wearing a jewel the size of an egg, matching their names.
“It’s crazy.” Ruby shakes her head, trying to pull her hands away, but Sapphire grips harder.
“That’s exactly why we should do it. Tonight. Forsythe is hosting a private dinner in the big top. It’s perfect.”
“I don’t think…”
“Oh, Ruby. Say yes?” The excitement of the moment makes Sapphire glow from within. Ruby is glowing too, from the alcohol and the pressure of Sapphire’s fingers.
“Yes?”
“Wonderful.” Sapphire signals the waiter for another round.
Somehow, the glass at Ruby’s elbow is empty, and despite her trepidation the second drink goes down easier than the first.
IT’S WELL PAST SUNSET WHEN RUBY AND SAPPHIRE LEAVE THE CAFÉ. Sugar and alcohol sing through Ruby’s veins. She’s floating, warm and giddy. “What time is Toad Face’s party?” She takes extra care pronouncing each word.
“Oh, honey, I shouldn’t have let you drink so much,” Sapphire says by way of response.
Even as she does, one of her sandals catches on an uneven bit of sidewalk and she stumbles. Ruby puts an arm around Sapphire’s waist; she doesn’t take it away as Sapphire regains her balance.
“That was the pavement.” Sapphire frowns. “And eight o’clock. We have plenty of time.”
At the far end the bridge, circus tents bloom against the dark, strung with lights. Beyond the tents, the old convent house’s windows glow. The bridge is longer than Ruby remembers. The open grating and the dark water make her uneasy.
“Oof, not so tight. Are you scared of heights?”
Ruby lets go of Sapphire’s waist with a guilty start.
“A little, I guess. Sorry.” Goosebumps rise and she wishes she was wearing something more practical than the slinky red dress.
At the far end of the bridge, Sapphire takes Ruby’s hand as she wobbles, helping her down the last steps from the walkway. The stars are very bright. Ruby squints, letting everything blur; she tries to picture the man behind Sapphire’s high, sharp cheekbones, but she can’t do it. He isn’t there. Sapphire isn’t handsome, she’s beautiful.
What would it feel like to kiss Sapphire? Heat flashes through her at the thought, and horrified, she pushes it away. But it creeps back, insidious, and her body tingles. Just because Sapphire is being so nice to her doesn’t mean… And besides, she isn’t like that. Or is she? Maybe it doesn’t matter, because people are just people, not one thing or another.
The thoughts race and clang inside Ruby’s dizzy head. She hears her voice, words out before she can stop them.
“Maybe you don’t even like girls.” As soon as the words are out, Ruby clamps her mouth shut, mortified.
Sapphire’s eyes widen. Ruby’s blood thumps. What will she do if Sapphire does like girls? If she likes Ruby…
But she sees the answer in Sapphire’s eyes, and Ruby’s heart drops, even though she hasn’t even sorted out what she feels. She tries to pull her hand away, but Sapphire grips it tighter.
“I’m sorry, honey.” She shakes her head. “But I would love to be your friend. If that’s okay?”
There’s a shadow under Sapphire’s skin, the same hint of pain Ruby saw in the café. The starlight isn’t as quick to dissolve it as the warm lights of the café. That look in Sapphire’s eyes is the only thing that keeps Ruby’s tears from starting. Relief and terror and pity flood her, all tangled up. Sapphire’s expression changes, the pain not quite disappearing, but softening into something else. Regret, maybe.
“I don’t know if this will make it better or worse,” Sapphire says. “But if it makes it worse, you have my permission to break one of my bones.”
So quickly Ruby barely realizes what’s happening, Sapphire leans down and kisses her. It’s both the most and least sexual kiss Ruby has ever experienced, and she’s so stunned she doesn’t even know whether she’s responded before it’s over.
“Oh.” Ruby exhales, breathless. She looks up at Sapphire, so many questions crowding her tongue she can’t shape the first one. Sapphire gives her a tentative smile, and because Ruby can’t think of a single thing to say, what comes out is, “Thank you?”
Sapphire’s smile widens; she lets go of Ruby’s hand.
“Come on.” Sapphire turns on her heel. “We’ve got burglary to do.”
“ISN’T THERE A SECURITY SYSTEM?” EVEN THOUGH SHE’S WHISPERING, Ruby feels like she’s shouting.
Crickets sing; laughter and music drift up from the big top. The circus glows behind them, each tent lit a different color.
“Why bother? Most of the time this place is empty. It would cost more to rewire than anything that’s usually in there is worth. There’s one security guard, but he must be ninety if he’s a day.”
Ruby wipes damp palms against her dress, making the sequins rasp. Now that the alcohol is starting to wear off, she feels foolish and a little sick.
“Do you think we should…”
But Sapphire is already taking her sandals off, hiding them under a bush. Ruby’s not going to back down, not if Sapphire doesn’t first.
Nobody will think you’re cool if you chicken out. The taunt comes back, sudden and sharp and Ruby freezes, one foot bare, the other half out of her boot. She can actually feel the worms wriggling between her fingers, see the circle of bright, eager faces standing around her. Come on, fatty, do it. We’ll never talk to you again if you don’t.
Even then, Ruby knew it wasn’t true. It didn’t matter what she did—eating the worms, not eating the worms—nothing would make a difference in what the cool kids thought of her. She’d still be excluded for being fat. For living with her grandparents. For wearing hand-me-down clothes. For not following some unwritten set of rules she didn’t understand. But she’d shoved the worms in her mouth, even knowing this, mashing them between her teeth viciously, feeling them squirm and fighting not to cry.
She’d swallowed, and almost immediately gagged, thrown up, and the school nurse had sent her home, humiliated, unable to look her grandfather in the eye as he drove her home in a battered Cadillac nearly as old as her.
But this isn’t like that. Sapphire isn’t one of those kids. So what is Ruby doing? Maybe, just maybe, a part of her thrills to the idea of stealing from Forsythe, starting a new life—one where no one would recognize her as a grease-stained waitress with a dead-end job and no prospects in a tiny little town in the middle of nowhere.
Bunching up her skirt, Ruby hurries after Sapphire. At any moment, Ruby expects the whoop of sirens, the cutting beams of flashlights picking her out. But there’s only the hush of their feet over the lawn. Up close, Ruby can see how huge the house actually is. About halfway back the windows are covered with iron bars.
“What are those for?”
“The building was used as a sanitarium for a while. The nuns didn’t need all the rooms, so they converted it into a hospital.”
“We’re breaking into an abandoned madhouse?” Ruby’s voice catches. Her skin feels clammy. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Sapphire ignores her, pointing to one of the windows. “Do you think you could pull the bars off?”
Ruby considers the bolts. They’re rusted and one is missing. It even looks as though someone tried to break in before them and gave up.
“I think so.”
Her pulse thumps in her palms, and she takes a deep breath, setting her feet. She thinks of Harv Salmetti and Toad Face, her taunting classmates in the school yard and the worms. She yanks hard, twisting. The metal groans, resisting, then with a sudden puff of brick dust, the whole thing comes away in Ruby’s hands.
She staggers back and Sapphire catches her. For a moment, neither of them says anything, then Sapphire grasps Ruby’s shoulders, kneading them and leans close with a hot, fierce whisper. “You did it.”
Ruby drops the bars, her arms trembling, more in exhilaration than fear. A grin plants itself on her
lips, and without waiting for Sapphire’s say-so, she steps forward and forces the window open.
The zing of adrenaline in her blood is even better than the alcohol. Lacing her fingers, she holds them out, a step for Sapphire’s foot.
“Ladies first.”
The impressed look on Sapphire’s face heats Ruby with pride. Ruby boosts her through the window, and once she’s inside, Sapphire calls down to her.
“Go around to the back. I’ll unlock the door.”
“We make quite the team,” Sapphire says, meeting Ruby at the back door with a grin.
Inside, Ruby follows Sapphire down a long hallway, rooms opening to either side, some with abandoned bed frames, others with sagging mattresses, and all with paint peeling like shedding skin. At the end of the hall, there’s a pair of pocket doors. Ruby shoves at them, ignoring the unoiled track shrieking its complaint.
Beyond the door, the house is sane, with glass-shaded lights burning, a threadbare woven carpet, and a grand staircase leading to the second floor.
“Up here.” The steps creak under Ruby’s weight, but Sapphire makes no sound, moving on the balls of her feet.
“This is where Forsythe keeps his collection.” Sapphire pushes open a door.
“Oh. Wow.” Ruby breathes out.
There are carved idols, insects cased in glass, canopic jars, hammered gold bracelets, and a massive, illuminated manuscript in a gold case embossed with jewels. Sapphire moves through the room, examining each object, but Ruby can only stand in the doorway, stunned.
“This. It has to be this.” Sapphire holds up a necklace, and Ruby’s mouth drops open.
Golden beads chime softly; they make Ruby think of feathers and spread wings. In the center of the necklace sits a scarab as long as her finger, carved from lapis lazuli and chased in gold.
“Try it on,” Sapphire says.
Without realizing it, Ruby has stepped into the room. She blinks, shaking her head, but she’s already reaching for the necklace. She wants to feel it against her skin, but at the same time, the idea of putting it on is revolting.