Danny

by Steven Piziks

  Irene took us through the lobby, past the bar, and back to the manager’s office. An older guy in his late thirties sat behind a desk shuffling papers beside a laptop. He had silver-streaked dark hair, a little bit of a paunch, and a short beard. He looked up when Irene walked in. Eryx and I hovered uncertainly in the door behind her.

  “Hey, Lucian,” Irene said. “I’ve got two guys here who need jobs. I think they’d do great for you.”

  “Yeah?” He flicked at glance at us, uncaring. I wasn’t sure if Irene was taking the right approach. “Who are they?”

  She pointed. “This is Danny, and this is Eryx.”

  Lucian didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he made a sharp gesture. “Well, get your asses in here so I can look at you.”

  I hadn’t noticed how hard my heart was beating until right then. Eryx and I shuffled into the office, and Lucian looked at us from the fortress of his desk. He sucked at his teeth, put his hands behind his head, and sucked his teeth some more. I stood there beside Eryx, not sure what to do. It felt weird, him just sitting there and looking at me. I didn’t like it. My skin was too tight where his eyes touched it.

  Finally he said, “You guys work hard? Do what you’re told and keep your mouths shut?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. Eryx just nodded.

  Lucian gave me another long look, and I had a sudden urge to run away, run all the way to the ocean and keep going. But I didn’t. Doing even a crappy job for a weirdo would free me of Dumpster slavery. So I stood there and tried to look earnest and hard-working.

  “Sure, fine,” he said. “Danny, you can start tomorrow. Eryx, you start today.”

  This caught all three of us off-guard. “Uh, sure,” Eryx said. “Great! Doing what?”

  “Working in the restaurant,” Lucian said. “One of my busboys called in sick. We’ll get you a uniform. Danny, get your ass in here at three tomorrow for the dinner shift. Pay is two bucks under minimum, but sometimes I might have some other non-restaurant stuff that pays more. Got it?”

  “Cool!” I said. “Thanks! See you, Eryx.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “After work.”

  And we left him in Lucian’s office. He sketched a fast wave as we went. Suddenly I found myself worrying about him. We’d been together every second since we’d left Michigan, and the idea of leaving him alone with a stranger made me unhappy. How trustworthy could Lucian be? He hired people under the table so he could pay them less than minimum wage.

  I hate this. Worry seems to be with me all the time, and it wants to change into panic at bad moments. It’s like carrying around a backpack with a tiger in it. I’m scared all the time, but I keep going. What can else can I do?

  “That went pretty easy,” Irene said once we were outside.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But the pay sucks.”

  “True.” Irene was kind of shuffling along, hands stuffed in the pockets of her cotton-candy shorts. “Lucian’s weird, but at least you always know where you stand with him.”

  I remembered something. “Today’s Monday. You said the hotel throws out a lot of tourist left-behinds. You think there’ll be any summer clothes Eryx and I can scam?”

  “Oh, sure. Come on!”

  She took me around back of the hotel to a bunch of huge Dumpsters, and I kind of sighed, thinking about diving in yet again, but instead she took me through a back door into a big room. Machines—I think they were AC units—boomed like monsters chained to the floor. Near the door were piles of clear plastic garbage bags.

  “Here!” Irene shouted over the noise. “One of the guys will take these out later! We better go through them now!”

  We did. I couldn’t believe the shit people throw away. I mean, you expect pizza boxes, condom wrappers—gross—and pop bottles. But beach towels? A baby car seat? A set of knitting needles? There were also clothes, either thrown out or forgotten. I found four t-shirts that would fit me or Eryx and some shorts for us, too. And swim suits! Someone else had left a wheeled suitcase. I grabbed that and shoved the clothes and beach towels into it. I also found half a tube of toothpaste, a whole bottle of body soap, a comb, and three toothbrushes. I took two of them, figuring I could clean them with the body soap.

  The last thing I found was a big brown mug with a lid on it, the kind that you can use to get cheap refills on convenience store coffee with. I decided it would come in really handy, so I rinsed it out in one of the employee bathrooms and filled it with water. Nothing else worth taking would fit into the suitcase.

  I ducked behind one of the AC units and changed into some shorts. Good thing, too—it got hotter and hotter as we walked back to the nursing home, me towing the suitcase like a little camper trailer.

  “I love Florida,” Irene said. “Even when it gets really hot and muggy. It’s like having summer all year.”

  “Do you miss winter?”

  “When I don’t have a house?” She made a face. “And anyway, snow is so boring and monochromatic. That’s my favorite word—monochromatic. So’s the opposite—polychromatic.”

  “One color and many colors,” I said, sipping water from my new mug.

  “You’re smarter than you look,” Irene said, giving me a slug on the arm that reminded me of Eryx.

  “I read a lot,” I told her, a little embarrassed. “Or I used to. Now I guess I can’t.”

  “And you write,” she added. “In that diary. Like all the time.”

  “It’s a journal, not a diary,” I protested.

  “Yeah, whatever, diary-boy.” But I could tell she was only joking with me, so I didn’t feel bad. “You ever write about me in there?”

  The question caught me flat and personal, like she’d suddenly reached inside my mouth and tried to touch my heart. I had no idea how to answer, and I ended up just staring down at the hot cracks in the sidewalk and clutching the mug to my chest.

  “You did!” she accused. “What did you say, diary-boy? Come on—you have to say!”

  I shoved my embarrassment aside. “You really wanna know?”

  “Yeah!”

  “I said you were a bitch who tried to steal our stuff.”

  She made a little half-smile. “Okay, that’s fair. What else?”

  “Uh … I said you wear colorful clothes and you swam with me and Eryx in the ocean like a seal. And I said you were really nice for showing us a place to live.” No way was I going to say what I’d written about her chest or her skin or the way I thought about her and me and Eryx together. I could feel my face getting red just because I was thinking about it.

  Irene’s expression changed. It became kind of thoughtful. “I don’t think anyone’s ever written anything down about me before. I’m in words that stay forever. Thanks.”

  “Sure,” was all I could think of to say.

  “Anyway,” she said with a little head toss, “Florida is way better than Michigan or Illinois.”

  “When were you in Illinois?” I asked.

  “That was where I got the abortion,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Oh.” I just kept walking. The suitcase wheels rumbled on the sidewalk behind me. After a second, I added, “Why go all the way to Illinois for that?”

  “You can get one there without parental consent,” Irene said. “In Michigan, they have to call your folks for permission. After that was over, I ran down here.”

  “Your parents would have freaked out if they found out you were pregnant?” I said.

  “They did freak out. Both of them.” Irene kicked at a pebble. “I thought Mom would have been cool at least, but she went killer ballistic, even more than Dad.”

  “Geez. Sucky.”

  “You bet. They wanted me to have the baby and give it up for adoption, but I didn’t. No way was I gonna go through that. I knew Dad’s ID number, so I swiped his credit card, got a cash advance, and took a train to Chicago. In and out at the clinic, and then down to sunny Florida.”

  “What about the father? Didn’t he help?”

  Her
face went hard. “I’m not talking about him. He was a fuckhead.”

  I felt like an asshole. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She suddenly slid her hand into my elbow, like we were walking to a formal dance party. “I like you anyway.”

  I got red again. “Thanks.” And then I thought, Idiot! You should have said you liked her, too. But it was too late and it would come across as stupid, so I didn’t say anything else.

  We got ambushed the second we got back to the nursing home. By then, sweat was trickling seawater warm down my back and legs, and the sunlight felt heavy. The shade trees around the building cooled the air a little—I didn’t feel like I was going to melt, at least. I shared some of my water with Iris, and she was glad to have it. We rounded a corner and this old guy, rail-thin and gray-bearded, suddenly leaped out at us and yelled, “Storm’s coming!”

  I about shit a brick. Irene, though, barely reacted.

  “Hi, Phillip,” she said. “Is everyone hanging around today?”

  Phillip scratched his cheek. His eyes were blue as lake water, and he wore a fisherman’s sweater despite the heat. “Yeh. ’S too hot out for scrounging. I told you it would be today.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Irene said. “Phillip, this is Danny. He and his step-brother Eryx are moving in. Danny, meet Phillip. He likes to predict the weather.”

  Phillip extended his hand. I didn’t want to take it—this weirdo had just scared the shit out of me—but Irene would think I was rude, so I shook. He smelled sweaty, and his hands were rough with calluses.

  “Big storm,” Phillip repeated. “Damn big. I used to train horses, you know.”

  “Really?” I said. “That’s nice.”

  “You bet. I had a great life once. Not like now.”

  He wandered away, his steps strangely fluid.

  “Are they all like that?” I murmured.

  “Kinda,” Irene said. “You hungry? Let’s go see Cerise.”

  Cerise had a garden in one of the courtyards created by the twisting building. I didn’t realize it was a garden at first—Irene showed me a section of overgrown ground that looked like everything else. But then I realized stuff had been planted there: carrots, lettuce, melons, tomatoes, celery, and other plants I didn’t recognize. Fruit trees surrounded the place, and I saw oranges, lemons, and limes. Everything was allowed to run half-wild, though, which was why it took me a while to see it really was a garden.

  “Do you like it?” From under one of the trees came an older black woman with graying hair tucked up under a tattered yellow gardening hat that reminded me of a giant sunflower. She wore a long green dress. Along with her came a man with long blond hair in graying tangles. His running shorts were covered with dust, and a silver baseball cap was turned sideways on his head.

  “Don’t come too close,” the woman added, holding up her hand. “I’ve been impure ever since I ate that bad meat.”

  “Oh, uh … all right,” I said. Was she sick?

  “Don’t mind her,” the man said. “She gets like this sometimes. I’m Henry. This is Cerise.”

  “Your garden is cool. Did you plant all of it?”

  “No, child,” Cerise said. “I coaxed it out of the ground and let it grow where it wanted. You may pick some fruit and vegetables, but don’t come close.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “Just stay there or she’ll freak out. I’ll bring you what you want. I used to be a mailman, so I’m all for carrying packages.”

  “Take all you like,” Cerise said with a wide smile. “I have plenty.”

  Irene and I did like. Henry brought us oranges, tomatoes, carrots, and string beans. A week ago, I would have nibbled politely and silently called it vegan crap. Now it was the most delicious salad I’d ever tasted. We wandered back to the room, munching as we went. An orange burst in my mouth like a sweet sunset. A crisp carrot gave me a taste of autumn. Maybe I’d go swimming down in the ocean again. And maybe Irene would come with me. Should I just ask her? I wanted to, but didn’t know how, which made feel stupid and helpless.

  “I wonder how Eryx is doing at work,” I said around the carrot.

  “Probably fine,” Irene said, a little shortly.

  I looked at her. “You okay?”

  “I’m great,” she said. “Just tired with all the walking we did today.”

  “Oh.” So much for swimming then. Disappointment made me heavy, but I worked not to show it. We ended up back in the room, sitting on her mattress and eating in silence. Then I repacked the stuff from the hotel, using the suitcase as my new dresser. Iris still didn’t say much. I couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. I worried I must have said or done something stupid, and my stomach got all tight. As a final touch to the moving-in process, I put my new mug on the windowsill.

  “The sacred water altar,” I said, trying to get her to smile. When she didn’t, I got up the courage to say, “What’s wrong?”

  “Sometimes I feel like all the colors are draining out of me,” she said in a dull voice. “Like they’re bleeding out of my veins and leaving trails on the sidewalk behind me. I worry that one day I’ll get home—get here—and find there’s nothing left in me but gray and black.”

  “No white?” I asked, still trying to lighten the mood. She was kind of freaking me.

  “White’s all the colors mixed together.” Then she shook her head. “So why’d you run away?”

  Oh shit. “I … I told you. We—Eryx and I—argued with our folks a lot.”

  “About what?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Okay,” she said, and it was half warning, half tantrum. “If you don’t wanna tell me, then fine. Don’t.”

  My heart twisted. “No, I do. I do. I just … it’s hard.”

  “I won’t laugh or think you’re a bad person, Danny. I promise.”

  So I told her. About moving in with Myron and Eryx showing me the cameras in the bathroom and calling up the videos. I didn’t tell her about what I did in the shower, but I think she figured it out. And I told her that Myron brought over men who wanted to pay money, but then I kind of lied and said that we ran away before they could do anything, though I didn’t really lie—I just sort of let her think that’s how it happened. Then I told her about the bus ride and how fucking scary it was and about the cop on the bus and about eating from a Dumpster. The more I talked, the faster the words came, until they tore out of me in a fire hydrant, waterfall rush.

  Irene just listened and listened beside me on the mattress, her clashy clothes muted in the soft shadows of the room. Somehow, we got closer, and the sides of thighs touched, but we didn’t pull apart, and I was totally aware that I was alone in the room with her, and also aware that I was sitting in the spot where Eryx had been napping earlier. His scent clung to the mattress, and I felt drawn in two directions, a guitar string tightened at both ends. The air seemed thick.

  “Sounds like a shitty time,” she said quietly, and her mouth looked pink. I thought of Eryx’s blue eyes. “But you did the right thing.”

  “I hope so,” I said, meeting her gaze. God help me, I didn’t know what the hell to do.

  Irene took my hand and I swallowed. “I know so.”

  She leaned toward me, and I leaned toward her. My heart raced hard. I felt her breath, warm and smelling of oranges, on my cheek. We moved closer, slowly, and then I couldn’t stand it anymore. I moved in and kissed her.

  It was soft and electric. She touched my hair just like Eryx had when he was looking for salt. I felt her fingers and her lips and her tongue like they were my own.

  An electronic tone chittered between us. Both of us jumped and moved apart. Irene leaned back and groped in the front pocket of her shorts, finally coming up with a thin cell phone. She got up, snapped it open, and walked a few steps away with her back to me, her free arm folded across her stomach. I leaned back on my elbows, puzzled and disappointed.

  “Yeah?” Irene said into the phone. Her tone was flat. “I’m okay…
. When? … Okay, I’ll be there.” She flipped the phone shut without saying good-bye and turned to me. “That was Lucian. He wants me to come in to work. Now.”

  “You have a cell phone?” I blurted out.

  “Yeah. Lucian gave it to me in case he needed to call me in to work like he just did.” Her face and voice had gone flat again. She didn’t want to go in, and I didn’t blame her.

  “So you’re gonna do it?” I asked, hoping she’d say no.

  “Gotta. He’ll fire my ass if I don’t.” She trotted toward the door, tossing a wave over her shoulder as she went. “I’ll say hi to Eryx for you.” And she was gone, a bright sky fading into spring rain.

  I puffed out my breath and flopped back on the mattress. How much ass did that suck? And how much did it rock at the same time?

  After a while I got up and wandered around outside the nursing home. It was weird not having anything I had to do or anyplace I had to be. I kept expecting to hear Mom call my name and tell me to take out the trash or vacuum the living room or ask me where the hell the vodka bottle had gone. Maybe it would be a good idea to go scrounging, see if I could pick up a mattress of my own somewhere. But it was just too hot out to do anything like that, and anyway, it would take two people to carry a mattress, and I had just me.

  Only then did it occur to me that it was strange for Irene to have a cell phone, especially one from her boss. Why would a hotel manager give a cell phone to an illegal, homeless teenage worker who was working for peanuts? Maybe it was something to do with drugs. I made a face at that. I wasn’t going to get involved with drugs. No fucking way. Alcohol’s a drug, and I saw what that shit did to my mom. It was a drunk guy who had killed Uncle Zack. I’d starve before I ran or dealt drugs.

  “You’re the new one,” said a harsh voice behind me. I spun around and came face to face with the oldest woman I’d ever seen. Her hair was white and thin, like a windblown snowdrift, and her face showed sand dune wrinkles. She was thin, and her hands had shriveled into bird’s claws, but her back was yardstick-straight. A faded purple muumuu covered her from neck to ankles.