Easy

by Mercedes Siler

  “Normal girls don’t hang out in the places we do. Wrong time and wrong situation.” He doesn’t seem too upset by this.

  “So, what do you want to do?” I pull out a cigarette and light up, trying to get rid of the ball of anxiety in my stomach. I get anxiety whenever I get in cars. Smoking helps.

  “We can pick up Darry and Pauly and hit the next party. I need to go anyway and make some money.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We hit up Pauly first. The house is dark and silent. I always get this creepy feeling whenever I’m sneaking around in the dark, like there’s a bigger monster than me lurking around.

  We hop his fence and run low across the lawn. We stand against the house and Pauly’s dogs look at us, wagging their tails. I hold onto Jake’s arm and now he’s pushing me off him and shaking me and mumbling something about why don’t I act like a man, Godfather style. We creep to the guy’s window and start tapping.

  We watch Pauly stumble around and come over, half asleep, holding a baseball bat. He slides open the glass and I take away the bat. He’s drifting to sleep so I poke him, giggling with Jake. “Pauly!” I whisper, grinning, trying to get him to focus. I slap his bare stomach. “C’mon, get dressed. Let’s party!”

  He goes back in.

  “We’ll be in the car,” I tell him. We pet the dogs and jump back over the fence, running to the car and giggling at that kid’s stupid kid face.

  “I thought for sure he’d be wearing bunny pajamas with feet.” Jake giggles.

  “Maybe he learned from last time.” I grin. I pass him the bottle of Champagne and we drink while waiting.

  Pauly gets in and Jake gets in the back. “You drive. We’re too drunk.”

  “I don’t have my license,” he says, starting the car and driving off, popping the clutch.

  Oh God. This is not good. I’m freaking out.

  “Oh no.” Jake is overdramatizing and getting comfortable, lighting a joint. “Well we’re drunk and holding. So, either way, if someone tries to pull you over, you take off, right?”

  “Yep. Where to?”

  “Darry.” I’m going to die in this car. This is not good. I light another cigarette and roll my window down all the way. Not good at all.

  “Hey, Easy. Quit hogging all the air, you pig.” Jake mumbles around the long, fat joint. He takes off his leather jacket and his shirt, letting the scars on his back show.

  “Don’t call me a pig.” I move myself out of the window, sitting upright. I lean over and move the air vent and roll down the window on Pauly’s side.

  “Quit it, you moron! What are you trying to do? Get us killed? Jesus.” Pauly yells. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel and he’s focusing on the road hard after swerving.

  I get terrified riding in cars. I usually trust Jake if I have cigarettes. I’m trying to move on with my life and live until it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, or I stop feeling anything altogether.

  I feel sadness dripping off me like slime, making puddles wherever I touch.

  It makes me tired.

  It makes me want to drink.

  It makes me want to cut out my eyes, and sometimes it makes me want to die.

  “Pauly, you’re a fucking asshole.” Jake is livid.

  “Fuck you, man. I ain’t the one who woke me up in the middle of the fuckin’ night to drive your drunk asses to another fuckin’ party so you can be weird, spaz out, and get more wasted!” Pauly rants.

  “Fuck you, you pig.” Jake raises his voice. “You’re a pig like your daddy, you fuckin’ daddy’s boy. You wanna be just like your daddy when you grow up don’t you, daddy’s boy? Pull over.”

  My stomach is churning as the car jerks to a stop and I see the blood and wreckage, breaking glass and screeching metal, things I don’t want to experience. It’s hard to breathe, and I’m going to throw up.

  Jake pulls me from the car and I puke in the gutter. This is embarrassing. I’m only twenty years old and already I’m too old for this shit.

  The cool breeze hits my face, cutting through the thickness of the moment. Jake is sitting next to me, hugging me. I let him, because he knows. He knows exactly how scared and sad I am. Pauly keeps saying he’s sorry, but it’s not his fault I’m like this.

  “Easy, you’re gonna be okay, man. Not today, but someday. You’re gonna be okay.” Jake whispers to me like I’m the only one here.

  I’m too embarrassed and too sad to reply. I sit on the curb and look at the stars. When I was little I never tried to count the stars like other kids do. I’ve always known there were too many, and only God knew the real count anyway. I’ve always had faith. And through all this I still have faith God loves all of us. He didn’t take them away; it was something terrible that happened. God doesn’t want to see anyone in pain.

  “C’mon, Ezra. Let’s go.” He pulls me up and hands me another lit cigarette.

  I put it to my mouth shakily, half expecting to see blood on my fingers, and I wonder why cigarettes are so calming to me. Is it what’s in them? I think it’s because they force you to regulate your breathing.

  Pauly’s standing with his arms crossed, hands in armpits, looking scared and cold. “Sorry, man,” I tell him, and climb in the backseat, making myself a comfy spot using my jacket as a pillow.

  When I wake up, Darry is driving and it’s hot and the air is thick and smoky. We must be in the Valley.

  We park relatively close to the long driveway to the house where the party is, and we get out and make our way up. The music is carried down to us on the warm eucalyptus and oleander-scented breeze. The girls wandering around are mostly cokeheads, when they can afford it. You can always tell because they’re all skinny and their eyes are shifty, looking for the next thing. We’re walking around to the back and it’s like the other party but this one has a pool and a warm glow about the whole thing. Some girls are swimming naked and some guys are in the hot tub. People are tan and blonde. Jake has introduced us to the host and goes off with him, and we’re left to our own devices. Darry and Pauly go off with some pretty, young, boring California girls who don’t have tan lines, and I’m left alone with my darkness, keeping myself busy watching people, listening to the tick of minutes passing in my head. Minutes to keep track of whether Jake needs help or not, and how long until the party gets broken up or the guys are too drunk to walk away.

  In one of these minutes my heart thumps against my ribs because I see her. Minutes tick by as I watch her watching me and the party goes on around us. She’s staring at me. She’s not so angry now but I can see she’s stuck. That man has a grip on her – has her caged in, and she doesn’t want it. I don’t like it. There’s something about her that makes me feel tightness in my heart.

  She’s sitting with him, staring at me while I’m sitting here, all alone on a bench slowly sipping a beer. There are three empty bottles next to me, and I don’t remember drinking them or even getting them.

  “Easy! Come on.” Jake appears from nowhere, bouncing around, which means one of two things: he’s rolled the guy he was with, or the guy tried something that wasn’t part of the agreement and he kicked his ass.

  I’ve seen him do both.

  I’m already running with him.

  Oh, shit! We forgot Darry and Pauly. “Jake, what about Paul and Darius?”

  “Holy fuck! Where are they? I gotta jet, man.”

  “I’ll find ‘em.” I run back, grinning. When Jake gets nervous it’s like the end of the world for him.

  Darry has a wasted girl riding him like a champ, and Pauly is sitting on a bench behind them, watching like a creep.

  “Jake’s on the run. Let’s go,” I tell them, and they jump up immediately. Darry pushes the girl off him gently, tender, and I have to look away from the beautiful moment he’s sharing with a complete stranger he’ll never see again.

  We make it around to the front and start running down the driveway. I see Jake at the bottom, waving at us to hurry, jumping around.

 
Out of nowhere, I’m sailing through the air and landing, feeling the skin of my palms and chin rip on the asphalt.

  Shit! Not my face. What the fuck was that? I lift my head and look around and I see the girl from the other party. Handcuffs girl. She’s standing right here looking caustic.

  “What the fuck, lady?” I manage, bewildered, and pissed, and on the ground, pain everywhere. A girl hasn’t tripped me since third grade. Her name was Justine and she smelled like cat food.

  “You’re taking off, right?” she asks.

  Her voice is nice, like how sweet peas would sound if they were girls. “I was, thank you. If you made me ugly, I’ll be super pissed.” What I’m saying and how I’m saying it does not match the heart-fluttering excitement I feel when I look at her.

  “Take me with you.”

  “You messed up my face and now you’re making demands?” I can’t believe my mouth is working because my brain is in free fall.

  “Shut up. Get up, and take me with you.” She’s fierce and authoritative.

  There’s no way I will say no.

  “What do I get out of this?” I ask, because I can’t just say yes.

  She stares at me like she’s having an internal struggle between wanting to scratch my face off and the overwhelming need for me to take her with me. I stand slowly and dust myself off.

  “Easy, c’mon. What the fuck’s goin’ on? I gotta go!”

  I take her arm because I hear people running and yelling. She puts up a reflexive fight before giving in and running with me.

  “What is this?” Jake looks her up and down and looks at me, curious and proud of my catch.

  I glare, touching my bloody chin. “She wants us to take her with us,” I tell him, looking at his eyes.

  He nods, frowning. “Nothing breaks the bond of a band of merry men faster than adding a woman to the mix,” he warns, looking back at her.

  She looks back at him, matching his stare. “I don’t want to fuck any of you.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” He grins.

  She glares.

  “This is not going to be as simple as you think. Come on, they’re coming.”

  He gets in his car in a flash and the girl and I are left looking at a half-naked, bloody-faced man, and her fat sleazebag running around the back of the house.

  We get into the backseat with Jake, and Darry drives off with a squeal.

  Jake looks around the girl at me, and glances at the cut on my chin with concern. I wish I could give him an explanation, but I don’t have one. She’s sitting between us, just this girl, her breathing even, but her eyebrows are wrinkled in a soft frown, her lips pouted.

  “Hi. My name is Jake,” he says, forcing his hand into hers to shake. “That’s Paul.” He nods at Paul.

  Paul waves and turns around from shotgun. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I like your hair.” He flirts like the pig he is.

  She glares and Pauly retreats.

  “This is Darius.” Jake gestures toward Darius.

  Darry nods, remaining quiet and focused on driving.

  “Bloody Chin over there is Ezra.” He gestures to me and we glare at each other, which is amusing to Jake. “Do you have anything to say?”

  “Fuck all of you.” She scowls.

  I had a cat like her once. When she was a kitten she’d puff up her fur and hiss and spit at everything that moved too fast. I loved that cat. She hated my dad and she always slept on my head.

  “You’re supposed to introduce yourself,” Jake says.

  She sits, glowering, and sighs, saying nothing.

  Darry drives to his house to drop himself off. Jake gets behind the wheel and drops Pauly off.

  He drives us toward my house while I sit shotgun. I wasn’t anticipating things going sideways but I have no problem sneaking in for the night. I usually come and go and we need to figure out what we’re going to do with the girl. Unless she has a plan.

  I turn in my seat to look at her. “Where to?”

  She shrugs.

  “Same place we’re going, then? You have to be nice. I have a little brother and sisters.” I usually don’t bring complete strangers home out of respect for the sanctity of my family but I think we can handle her.

  She looks exhausted. “How old are you?” I ask.

  “Old enough.” Her eyes narrow.

  “That means too young, Easy. Be careful,” Jake warns, as though I don’t know.

  “I’m turning eighteen next week,” she admits.

  That is trouble young. If she’s turning eighteen in a week, there’s a week of potential trouble. If she’s really being honest. She could be sixteen. I turn around so I can’t see her pretty eyes and lips. “Maybe we should take you to a family member’s place? A friend?”

  “I don’t have any family. I don’t have friends. I’ve been old enough for a long time. You don’t have to worry.” She’s trying her hardest to not sound desperate and I feel for her.

  I look at Jake. He’s not giving me any answers. I look at her. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about us. A lot can happen in a week and whoever you’re running from will probably be looking for you, and if they find you with us, bad things can happen that will stay with us forever.”

  “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m not having sex with anyone. I can’t. I’m on pelvic rest. And I can’t go back there.” Tears well in her eyes and her lips pout.

  “Okay.”

  “What’s she talking about? What the fuck is pelvic rest?” Jake asks.

  “It means she’s had a baby or a miscarriage or abortion or there’s something wrong with her cunny,” I tell him, turning back around.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my cunny,” she says, pissed.

  I don’t want to look at her because she’s young and I don’t want any feelings for her at all. Having this nagging sense of protectiveness for her when I don’t want to feel anything for anyone is already making me feel stupid. She’s most likely here because she saw me buy coke so she knows I have money. She’s probably trying to stick me for my paper, not for my protection. What a weird, fucked up day. But I met Jake on a weird, fucked up day, too.

  We get out of the car in the woods and walk towards the fence. I pull myself up and over easily and wait for the girl to get up with Jake’s help. She drops and I catch her, feeling her warm skin on my arms. Jake drops stealthily and we walk through the trees and onto the lawn. I lead them to the kitchen entrance with trepidation. There are so many possible run-ins with people I don’t want to see in the middle of the night.

  My key has been taken away because my stay here is on a conditional basis. My dad’s butler, Sam, leaves this one for me.

  We walk through silently and I reset the alarm. We tiptoe through the house and I take them to the stairs on the side. It’s for the housekeepers and Hannah’s nanny, and Sam who peeks out of his room. I give him a wave, and he gives me a wave and goes back to bed.

  Jake and the girl are looking at me, awaiting explanation as we continue to my room. I feel as though it’s because I forgot to put my face on or something. “What?”

  “You have a secret staircase?” the girl asks, looking at me like I’m not only an idiot but an alien as well.

  I shrug and start putting stuff where it needs to go. “It’s not secret.” I steal glances at her. She’s staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. I can’t stand it. I busy myself with tidying my already pretty tidy room.

  “I’m gonna take a shower,” Jake announces with his stupid look like he knows something I don’t. He gets his stuff and closes the bathroom door behind him.

  “This is your house?” She looks around appraisingly, dollar signs above each piece of heavy furniture.

  “No, this is my parents’ house.” I have no ownership in this house.

  She squints at me. “You’re such a jackass.” She’s crosses her arms.

  Am I a jackass? I didn’t know I was being a jackass. I’m being honest. This isn’t my house. I ba
rely live here occasionally. “I don’t mean to be. Are you usually so abrasive?” I ask her.

  Her eyebrows move together and she softens. She holds one arm with the other. “You’re bleeding,” she says.

  I feel my chin. I am bleeding. But that doesn’t answer my question. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s okay. I didn’t know I was a jackass either.”

  A hint of a smile plays around her lips.

  She’s young, and you don’t want feelings, Ezra. We’ve been fine with no stirrings in your heart or anywhere else.

  Saved by Hannah’s cries.

  The girl looks at me, confused by my instant reaction.

  “I’ll be right back,” I assure her as I take off.

  I reach Hannah’s door as Abby reaches for the handle. She’s surprised to see me. “What are you doing? Why are you back already?”

  “Just go back to sleep. I’ve got her.” I push past her and into the room. I pick up the baby, putting her pacifier in her mouth.

  “Mom was crying.” She ignores me and makes a bottle. “You smell like beer.”

  There’s a stab of anger and pain in my heart. “She always cries.” I take the bottle and give it to the baby and watch her eyes close softly, at peace.

  “Micah was crying, too.” She crosses her arms over her chest, watching me warily like I’m her big bad wolf.

  “What do you want from me?”

  She looks at me like I’m the stupidest person in the world, and I don’t know why. I love them, but they’re not my children.

  She sighs. “Goodnight, Ezra.”

  I walk back to my room with the baby. The girl is sitting on the edge of my bed. She puts a guard up around herself, trying to protect her private thoughts. But the guard is more obvious than anything. “Yours?” she asks.

  A wave of sadness washes over me. “No, my sister.”

  She frowns. “Why are you taking care of her? Where’s her mother?”

  I frown at her. “Because I want to. Hopefully my mother is asleep.” I turn the overhead light off and turn on a low light. “Who was the guy you were with?”

  She flinches like I hit her, and sits, contemplating her answer. “My mom’s newest husband.”