Easy

by Mercedes Siler

I nod and let her hug me, closing my eyes and feeling her warmth and the unfamiliarity of her unknown body. We lie together and her head is in my armpit and her hand is on my chest. I turn away from her and she presses her body to mine.

  Oh, shit. I haven’t felt this physical attraction for a long time. I haven’t felt this heat from another person. I am not going to be able to sleep.

  Chapter 4

  “Hey, Easy. Wake up. Let’s go.”

  It’s Jake. He’s the only one who calls me Easy. But his voice is so far away and I’m so warm and comfy.

  “Easy, Mike said we could stay at his place for a while. I brought your toothbrush.”

  Toothbrush. Hygiene.

  I have to pee.

  I scoot the girl’s arm off and tuck it next to her. I get up with catlike stealth and walk to Jake, still fuzzy from sleep. I take the toothbrush.

  “I grabbed an extra one for the girl. Did you get her name yet?” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “I’m gonna go pee. We’ll get breakfast so she has somewhere to do her thing.”

  “We don’t have to be at Mike’s ‘til later. We can head to the beach or something. Get rid of your merchandise for some more money.”

  I walk away to pee on a tree. My head feels so much clearer already.

  Jake’s lying next to the girl when I get back, holding a sports bottle of water for me. I wash my hands and brush my teeth, watching him mess with her, trying to wake her. She smiles softly and opens her eyes, happy until she sees it’s Jake and he smiles. “Buenos dias, cuchorra.”

  She sits, glaring, and he jumps up and starts packing.

  “Your sister is not the person I thought she was,” he says to me.

  He’s not joking, he’s serious, and my fists are clenching. “What?” My vision blurring.

  “I mean, I always thought she was a typical little rich girl, you know, all superficial and stuff.” He backs up.

  “What made you see this?” He’s not talking fast enough.

  “Calm down.” He holds his hands up. “She and the kids stayed in your room. They were crying so I was talking to them. Micah fell asleep, so she was telling me to take care of you and it was nice. She’s a nice girl. She gave me some money for you. She said she took it from your dad.” He holds out a clip of cash.

  I take it and add it to the rest. “She’s not a nice girl, she’s my little sister and she’s nineteen.”

  “She’ll be twenty in a few weeks.”

  I glare at him. I don’t know what to say. If he touched her, I swear.

  “I’m messing with you. She’s a nice girl and she’s your sister. She cares about you. Make sure you keep in touch.” He nods at me.

  He knows how I feel about Abby. He’s a good guy. He has sisters too.

  “She kissed me though. She did it, not me. I kept it clean.” He immediately puts his palms up in innocence.

  “Oh my God! Why? That’s so gross.” I don’t even know what to do with my face.

  “It wasn’t. It was nice.” His hands are all out and he’s the picture of innocence.

  “I will hit you. Don’t think I won’t.”

  “I just wanted you to know. ‘Cause I have mad respect for you.”

  Shit. I should never have left him there.

  “Lighten up. We’re free. It’s a great day. Let’s go to the beach. How much money we got?”

  “Enough for a couple of months, maybe three.”

  “Cool. Perfecto. I’ll make some more at the beach. Maybe we can smoke.”

  Sounds good. Except there’s a girl with us and I don’t know if I’ll keep it clean. I look at her. “You down?”

  She nods. “You won’t hurt me?”

  What, me? Hurt a girl? Never. “No.”

  “Jake,” she says quietly, looking at him.

  “Yes, cuchorra?” he asks, spinning around to see her.

  “You won’t hurt me?”

  He looks at her, dumbfounded. “No. Never. You’re my little sister, and I love you. You got me?”

  She smiles a relieved smile. “I’ve never had a brother before.”

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t mess with you every once in a while though.”

  She nods, smiling.

  Jealousy.

  *****

  Jake is rolling joints while driving skinny beach streets and I’m smoking cigarettes and going crazy with anxiety. The girl is lying on the backseat, hands on her belly and staring at the ceiling, her knees up. “This car is nice.” Her voice is wispy, like she’s considering the car from all angles.

  “Thanks,” Jake says. “Do you know about cars?”

  “Some.”

  “It’s a ‘64 Impala. I rebuilt it myself.”

  “The paintjob is amazing.”

  “That’s what I do for a living.” He’s flattered, I can tell by his voice. He takes great pride in his art.

  “You?” she asks.

  He nods, proud. “Yep. I see my cars every once in a while, driving around. I’ve been doing it since I was about fourteen.”

  His car is nice. It’s gunmetal gray with ghostflames. The interior is soft black leather. It’s great. I don’t mind riding in it unless we’re deep in LA.

  “Easy, can you finish this?”

  I take the stuff for him while he makes a turn. I finish the joints and put them back in the bag. I look back at the girl. I hate myself for being so attracted to her. She’s looking at me with a little sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her lips, and I turn back around. There’s too much heat. I roll down the window more, looking at the ocean.

  The beaches don’t look too crowded. Good. Not a lot of police activity, and enough customers.

  The girl and I sit in the car. I can’t think of anything to talk about and she’s lying there, soaking in the sun, so we’re quiet while I watch Jake makes his rounds, selling.

  It’s starting to warm up outside as he jumps back in, handing me the money. Five hundred. “Did you sell the coke, too?”

  “Yeah.” He drives off.

  We park down the street and walk a block to our quieter beach. There’s never anyone here and there are plenty of private places. Jake lays the blanket out and we all lie down, the girl between us, and we light up.

  We’re watching the clouds drift by and listening to the waves. She’s so close to me that I can feel the heat coming off her skin hotter than the sun beating down on us.

  It’s unnerving.

  And now her hand creeps into mine.

  It’s feels so good and it’s been so long. Like, never.

  After a while Jake meets some people and goes off with them leaving me and the girl alone.

  Jake plays in the ocean.

  The girl and I are holding hands and it’s comfortable. And I’m foggy. “I think your eyes are breathtaking.” I tell her.

  “Thank you. Nobody’s ever looked at them like you do.”

  “I don’t want to have sex with anyone until I’m married, and I don’t want to marry anyone until I love them and they love me. And I’m scared to love anyone.” I hear myself telling her.

  “You’ve never had sex before?”

  “I’ve wished I hadn’t. I’m talking about being scared of love.”

  “Love is scary. I’ve never had to worry about it. I think your lips are unbelievable. Kissing them must be delicious.”

  She thinks my lips are pretty. That’s funny. Did she say she wants to kiss me? “Kissing is a gateway drug.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I don’t know your real name.”

  “Kolita. My mom was on a Buddhist kick when I was born. But I hate my name. My Dad was Israeli and he loved me, but my mom was a bitch and divorced him. He wanted to take me to Israel but she wouldn’t let him because she needed me for money and her creepy boyfriends. So he went without me and he died. My Hebrew name is Mayyim. I get called Koli and my aunt calls me Mayyim, which I like. I have too many names.”

  I’m watching her lips move, noddin
g, understanding. “Beautiful.”

  She’s looking at me, smiling like she’s thinking this whole thing is funny. “What’s beautiful?”

  “Mayyim.”

  She grins. “You’re stoned.”

  “Am I?”

  “I think so. Do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. Your beauty is in the way.”

  She laughs and her cheeks are turning pink. “Are you going to kiss me? Now that you know my name?” she’s asking, moving closer.

  “You’re a baby.” I want to kiss her though.

  “Do you think so? I don’t think so. I think all that’s holding me back from life is that stupid number.”

  It is a stupid number. But it is in place for a reason.

  “How old are you?” she asks.

  “I turn twenty-one in October.”

  “How does it feel to have no numerical limitations?” she asks me, so close to me I can smell her clothes, and the smell of cigarettes and fabric softener, and a faint scent of warm pears.

  I smoke. She doesn’t smell like a smoker. My smoke is on her clothes and in her body. I don’t want to hurt her. “I can’t rent a car until I’m twenty-five.” I tell her quietly.

  “There’s always something, isn’t there?” she whispers back, inches from my lips.

  “I think you have probably been through a great amount and have come out victorious. But I also believe you are still innocent.” I hold her face and kiss her forehead, pulling away with great restraint. I am sitting close to her, close enough to smell her skin and her clothes.

  “Do you think so? How?” she asks, looking at my lips.

  “Have you ever been with someone because you wanted to?” I ask her.

  “Is there a difference?”

  “Yes. Not knowing there’s a difference proves your innocence. It has to be an organic growth from like, to desire, to love. You can’t skip everything in between and hope for the best.”

  “I just want a kiss.”

  “My kisses aren’t cheap. You get what you pay for.”

  “That sounds nice,” she whispers.

  “I’m so fucking stoned.” Jake comes from the ocean, dripping wet, to lie between us. “Easy, my world is rolling.” He passes out, snoring softly.

  “Why my lips and not my eyes?” I have amber eyes and they look orange most of the time and other times they’re gold. Amber is the rarest eye color. Everyone goes on and on about them.

  “Too obvious.” She looks at them. “They’re kind of scary to look at.”

  She should see them when they’re filled with intensity. I scare myself. I don’t know anyone that looks like me. I so wanted Hannah to have them but they never showed, further proving to me what I’ve always thought about myself.

  She lies next to Jake and closes her eyes.

  And lying down, looking at the clouds, gives me too much time to think. We’re going to Mike’s house. His wife is the only thing between me and complete celibacy. She’s a woman through and through and she looks like Betty Page. She walks around in lingerie and robes and her real name is Helen, but I call her Betty. It’s easier. Her lips are always red and so are her fingernails. She smokes cigarettes in a cigarette holder. She’s seductive and she preys on the lost and knows my weaknesses. I have needs and she satisfies them. I don’t love her. She doesn’t love me. I have beliefs and she makes me forget them. She makes me perform at my best, and makes my best better. But I haven’t wanted her for a long time. She has a feel of desperation. She’s married. I’m a hypocrite. I want to be clean, and right, and she’s in my way. I feel this way every time before I see her, and then I get caught up and forget how crappy I feel until the next day.

  Please, God, help me to resist temptation and do what I need to do to get out of this mess of an existence.

  Chapter 5

  Jake parks in front of Mike’s garage. I’m a nervous wreck. What is Mayyim going to think of me when she sees Betty?

  I put my arms in the straps of my backpack, looking at the house with dread. I don’t want to go in there. I hate looking at Mike knowing I’m fucking his wife. He’s so ugly and greasy. And, I’m worried about Mayyim. Not only is she going to see me in a way I don’t want to be seen but also Mike is a dirty bastard that likes to get wasted, and get touchy feely, and I’m afraid for her.

  I wish I wasn’t such a coward about things.

  “Children! Welcome.” Mike answers the door wearing swim shorts and a robe. His body is hairy, and his nose is bulbous, and his hair is scraggly and greasy. He steps aside to let us in. “You guys smell like the ocean.”

  “Yeah, we just came from there. We’ve been blazin’ all day,” Jake is telling him as we stand in the foyer. “Where’s the party?” He looks around. There’s a faint sound of music coming from somewhere.

  “In the basement. The girls have been asking about you guys.”

  “Great.” Jake’s eyes are sparkling with excitement. “Coke or no coke?”

  “E, and weed.”

  “Awesome. Thanks, Mike, for letting us crash. You’re a real lifesaver.”

  “Yeah, thank you.” I should be thanking him; I just hate to. Seeing him makes my skin crawl.

  “Anytime, boys. We’re always open. Now, who’s this pretty young thing?” He spots Mayyim.

  “This is Koli.” I look her in the eyes and we understand each other. “This is Mike.”

  She holds out her hand to shake and he pulls it to his mouth to kiss like a predator. I don’t like it. “Don’t be scared, you’re welcome here.”

  She holds onto my shirt at my hip, halfway hidden, and my heart tightens with protective feelings. “Thank you,” she says quietly and looks at her feet.

  He tries to touch her and Jake takes her out of reach casually. I’m always amazed at how smooth he is.

  I turn my attention to Mike. “Which room do you want us in?”

  “I’ll take you there.”

  I follow him. Jake and Mayyim follow me. She takes my hand and I squeeze it. I look at Jake. He’s looking back at me, telling me to go with it, see where it goes. He knows what I’ve been through. He’s objective. And he’s always trying to get me to live a little even though he knows about my celibacy rule.

  Mike stops in front of two rooms and a bathroom. “One for the boys, one for the girl.”

  I look at Jake for help.

  “Actually, if it’s alright, I’m hoping to be entertaining tonight, so I’ll take the other room,” Jake says, opening the door and throwing in his backpack. “C’mon, Mike, let’s go party.”

  I watch them leave and turn back to Mayyim. She’s looking at me. She has dark circles under her eyes and she’s tired. She needs to be taken care of. She needs water and solid sleep. “C’mon. Let me put you to bed.”

  She smiles weakly. “You’re going to put me to bed?”

  “Yes.” I push her into our room and I sit her down on her bed.

  She lies back, hands on her belly.

  She doesn’t look so good. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you still recovering?”

  She looks at me like she has no idea.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I move to sit on the floor beside her.

  She turns onto her side to look at me. “You wanna see my surgery holes?” she asks quietly.

  I smile. “Sure.”

  She pulls her shirt up to show her belly. “It’s still poochy. The surgery was a week ago, I think. I’m supposed to be taking it easy for two to three weeks. They mostly talked to my mom because they thought she was the smart one or something.” She points to the little slits in her skin. “So they put a camera in and a cutty thing and a pincher thing and cut me open and took the baby and everything the baby ruined because it was growing in the wrong place. I was asleep. I didn’t cry or anything but now I feel like crying all the time.” She makes a sad straight line smile. “It’s not so much that I wanted it from the beginning, it’s more that it was mine and it’s dead now, and thinki
ng about it makes me sad. And I’m sad I might not be able to have babies I want. And it’s all his fault, and I want him to die.” She wipes her tears on her pillow.

  I look at the cuts. It is sad. I know about loss. “I lost a baby once, too.” My voice is so quiet I don’t know if I said it. I also know how it feels to want to have back what you’ve lost.

  “Did you?” She’s quiet, looking at me intently.

  I nod. “It hurts. It still hurts. Sometimes I want to die it hurts so bad.” I can’t believe I’m telling another living soul this. Jake is the only one I’ve ever told.

  She nods, tears sparkling in her eyes.

  “You should have let yourself heal another week,” I tell her.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I hand her a bottle of water from my backpack and watch as she sits to drink it. I pull clothes from my backpack. “What clothes do you need?”

  “What I need is a shower and undies,” she says.

  “You can wear my undies to bed. If you’re quick you can take a shower while I stand guard. I need to take a shower too.”

  She nods agreement. “You were right earlier, about doing things because I want to and there being a difference.”

  I have no idea what I said earlier. All I remember is her eyes, and her lips, and her smell.

  “We can go together and take turns.”

  Dangerous. And what if Betty comes looking for me? What a terrible idea to come here. Fuck.

  We walk together to the bathroom. I put my backpack on the sink. “Who first?”

  “You,” she says, sitting on the toilet seat lid.

  She watches me get naked. I can’t help smiling because she’s so unabashed. But oh my God.

  I step into the running water. Thank god for nice, hot water and soap.

  I rinse and turn the water off and her hand comes in with a towel. “Thank you.” I dry off and step out, towel around my waist. I search my backpack and find clothes.

  She’s gotten behind the shower curtain and has reached around, putting a neat pile of the clothes she was wearing on the back of the toilet, which is smart and I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing that. The water turns on and I listen to her shower while I get dressed.

  I am paranoid.

  Betty is going to find me and have expectations of me. I don’t want Mayyim to see her take me away. I sit on the toilet seat cover and worry.