Sliding On The Edge

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Sliding On The Edge Page 14

by C. Lee McKenzie


  I’m about to knock at the door when it opens and there’s Casey. Who’s more surprised, him or me?

  “Hi, Shawna. Heard you were coming.” Casey steps aside and holds the door open until I walk past. “Don’t bite any of the girls, okay?”

  I have something to say to him, but he’s already down the driveway by the time I turn around.

  “Shawna!” Marta pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Come on. The pizza is here and we’re diving in.”

  I tighten my grip on the sleeping bag and bite my lower lip. I’m not good at the girly-girl thing. I know I’m going to hate this.

  As I walk across Marta’s fun-house floor, I hear Magic in my head.... Stop being such a grump and pushing everybody away

  For you, Magic, I’ll give it a try.

  Chapter 38

  Kay

  Kay watched the exchange between Casey and Shawna at the front door. From the truck, even in the dim evening lighting, she could see the tension in Shawna’s stance and the expression on Casey’s face. Not his usual nice-kid expression. Kay’d known him since he was born, but tonight the seventeen-year-old had a whole different look than her usual Sunday Boy.

  She sighed and made a U-turn. At the stop sign, she crossed her fingers and held them high. “Make this party a breakthrough for Shawna, okay?” Kay knew how girls that age could shut out the “newbie,” but Marta had made the invitation and, knowing Marta’s mother like she did, Kay believed Marta was sincere.

  Jenny Kilpatrick had been Nic’s first serious girlfriend, and if all had gone according to plan... Kay laughed out loud. “And what plan would that be?” Wouldn’t Shawna be surprised to know that she could have been named Marta Stone?

  Shawna’s the loose canon, so tonight’s success depends a lot on how she acts, on what she says and does. Kay shook her head and made a right turn toward the hospital a mile away.

  She’d made up her mind that while she was in Sweet River, she’d check up on Floyd. The old coot was killing himself with alcohol, but she remembered how he was before he fell into the bottle. She’d visit him and maybe talk business if he was up to it.

  The parking lot was almost empty. She pulled in front of the main entrance, climbed out of the truck, and pushed the glass doors open.

  “Evening, Kay.” It was Ted Holt. He volunteered for the night shift at the Information Desk.

  “Hi, Ted. I came to see Floyd.”

  “Room 110 to the right. His son’s with him right now.”

  “Thanks.” Kay walked through the lobby and down the corridor to the room. The door stood open, so she walked in.

  The first bed was empty and the curtain was pulled around the second one near the windows. A tall man she recognized from years ago slumped in a chair against the wall.

  “Victor?” she asked.

  The man looked up, his face drawn and tired.

  “It’s Kay Stone. I came to see your father.”

  “You’re too late. Dad’s gone. He died about ten minutes ago.”

  She couldn’t say, “I’m sorry.” And she didn’t have any other words to use, so she stood next to the man in the chair and said nothing.

  Victor looked about the same as the last time she’d talked to him, about a year ago when he’d visited Floyd. Slightly gray at the temples, a small paunch, and sad blue eyes. But if she looked past the years, he became the lanky kid clamoring outside their kitchen door, waiting for Nic to play. Floyd and Nell’s oldest son almost lived with the Stones. Later, Floyd complained she was stealing him away, but he never forgot that she’d saved this boy’s life the night the rest of his family died.

  “Come outside with me,” she said at last, taking his arm and leading him into the corridor. “Let’s find some coffee and a place to talk.”

  The cafeteria was closed, but the coffee urn was still on and half full. She filled two Styrofoam cups and sat across from Victor. “I can help with the arrangements if you want.”

  He shook his head. “Dad didn’t want anything. Cremation and burial next to Mom and the kids.”

  Kay sipped her coffee.

  “It was a bad fall. Too much booze.” Victor swiped his eyes.

  “Will you be here for a while to take care of your father’s business?”

  He nodded. “But most of it’s done. Dad sold out last month and was planning to move closer to me. I just have to pack some personal things before the new people come in.”

  “I wish I’d known he was selling. I was interested.” Kay felt awkward talking about real estate now, but she’d always thought she’d buy Floyd’s and expand her stables. She’d talked to him about an option years ago. And now that she was in a position to make the deal, he’d sold it without giving her a chance.

  “And the horses?” she asked.

  “They’re gone along with the property. Dad dumped everything at once.”

  “Who bought the place?” she asked.

  “Out-of-towners. I haven’t had time to go over the details.” He studied his coffee, and then looked up at her. “I’m going to the house tomorrow, take out what I want, and then I’m gone. That place doesn’t hold a lot of good memories, you know?”

  “I know,” Kay said.

  “You’ve been in one place too long.” Victor said. “You know all the stories.”

  Kay nodded, but at the same time she couldn’t imagine where else on this planet she could call home.

  “I know you looked after Dad when he took to drinking. He told me.” Victor smiled, but it was a sad, lonely smile. “When he sobered up, he told me what you and Kenny did for him.”

  “I always thought of Floyd as my friend, so what Kenny or I did was what we wanted to do.”

  They walked back to Room 110 together. Before Victor went inside, he took both of her hands in his. “Thank you for everything, Kay.”

  Kay strode past the Information Desk before Ted Holt looked up from his newspaper.

  Outside, she turned the truck toward home like she turned a horse toward the barn. Just like the horse, she hoped her truck would find its way home without her paying attention.

  She needed to talk to Kenny.

  Chapter 39

  Shawna

  I step into Marta’s kitchen not knowing what to expect, and a good thing, too, because I’d never have come in here if I’d suspected what I’d find in this room. Marta, of course, in an oversized T-shirt down to her knees, but also the two blonds— the twins I’d seen hanging out with her and Casey at school.

  Then there’s the mom. Smiling like she’s been waiting for me all her life, she grabs me and pulls me to her before I can duck. “Shawna! I’m so happy you could come. Marta’s told me all about you, and I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.”

  I’m being hugged! And I’m like, totally freaking. No touching. No touching! That’s my rule. It isn’t something I’m accustomed to, and I’m not at all sure I can take it.

  I must look out of it when she backs off. Still holding onto my shoulders, she examines me like she’s found something, but she’s not sure exactly what.

  “I’m sorry, I must seem a little crazy, but I grew up with your father. My name’s Jenny.” She gives my shoulders a squeeze. “Nic was my first boyfriend. I just think it’s so wonderful that you’re at Kay’s. She must be so proud of you.”

  My gawd, is the woman going to go on forever? And what is this about my father? I must have a really weird look on my face, somewhere between shocked and sick, because this Jenny person is eyeing me like I’m a crazy who needs watching.

  I look past her at the giggling twins as they try pulling pizza slices from the box. Marta is smiling at me, her T-shirt message jiggling across her boobs: Love Bunny. I think I’m going to be sick.

  “Come on, Shawna. Dig in. It’s the Double Monster with everything!” Marta says.

  It’s my chance to escape her mom the hugger. I take it and tear off a slice, then fill my mouth with hot cheese, pepperoni, olives, you name it. I’m taking the
Double Monster down tonight. If I can take two monsters at a time, I should be able to take on my regular one anytime. I chew pizza until it’s in tiny, mushy pieces. I swallow and wash it down with a huge gulp of Coke, which I hate. But when in Rome. . . make that Sweet River.

  “Okay, girls. I’m off to the movies. I’ll be back about ten. Marta you charged my cell?” Jenny asks.

  Marta nods.

  “Have fun! Be happy!” Jenny calls as she closes the front door behind her.

  Have fun. Be happy. I’m chewing on those ideas as hard as I’m chewing on the Double Monster. At the same time I’m looking at Marta, wondering how she’d look if she were my father’s daughter. That leads to wondering how I’d look if I were Jenny’s daughter? Like a troll? I bite down and tear off another piece of pizza.

  Marta must have taken Martha Stewart classes. She’s smiling, pouring more Coke when a glass is empty, offering napkins. How come she isn’t as trollish tonight? How come when she looks at me, it’s with straight-on, non-ferret eyes? And she’s definitely stopped smelling bad.

  “So, Marta says you’re in her AP classes,” one of the twins says. “That’s why I never see you. I’m not AP material.” She laughs and toasts her twin with her Coke.

  “Me, neither.” The look-alike smirks. “So what’s it like being smart?”

  “What’s it like being dumb?” It’s out of my mouth before I know it.

  “Hey! Shawna, you gotta be nice tonight, all right?” Marta’s Love Bunny is hopping on her chest and she’s turning red in the face.

  . . . for a change stop being such a grump and pushing everybody away.

  I can’t shake Magic’s advice. It’s still echoing in my head. I hold up my hands like I’m surrendering. “Sorry. I don’t want to talk about school, okay? Let’s talk about something else.”

  “How about Cas... ey?” “Me, neither” tilts her chin and smiles, first at her sister and then at me, splitting the syllables in Casey’s name equally between us.

  “Deirdre, you’re a troublemaker. I told you—” her sister throws her crust and hits Deirdre in the chest; then she turns to me. “You know I’m seeing Casey, right?”

  “That’s not any of my business. I don’t even know who you are, so who you go with isn’t something I’d care about.”

  I grab another slice of pizza, taking a big bite. If I keep my mouth full of food, I can’t talk—something I’m not going to be good at tonight.

  “My name’s Deanna, spelled with two N’s.” She holds up her left hand.

  “This is Casey’s ring.”

  Since my mouth is full, I shrug.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Deanna asks.

  “It means I don’t give a sh—”

  Marta is between Deanna and me in a flash. “Come on. My CD player’s in my room.” She pulls me through the kitchen door and down the hall. “You like Rap, don’t you?”

  “I despise Rap.” I’m in no mood to cooperate.

  “Shawna.” Marta says my name and her voice pleads. “Please.”

  . . . for a change stop being such a grump and pushing everybody away.

  “Play whatever you want. Rap is fine.” I’m tired of this sleepover already and I’ve been here less than an hour.

  Deirdre and Deanna travel together as a package. They come into Marta’s bedroom together and spread their identical sleeping bags side by side on the floor. I think I’ve got them sorted out. Deirdre’s nose has a small bump in the center and Deanna’s doesn’t. If I study their noses, I’ll know which one is which.

  I retrieve my bag from the kitchen, and when I come back Chino Lite is blasting the wallpaper loose. D and D are doing an imitation of a dance, looking like two of Buster’s fleas on a night out.

  This is too weird! I kick off my shoes and squat on my bag. How long does this song last? Still, I move to the beat. Chino Lite is my number-one favorite. Marta has good taste in music.

  Marta joins the twins and hauls me to my feet. I shake my head no, but she’s got my wrists. Short of breaking her arm, I’m not getting free.

  “Come on,” she shouts. “I know you have some good moves.”

  Ha! She doesn’t have a clue what good moves are. I haven’t slid around the floor since I left Vegas, but the moves come back: slide to the right, go down and circle, punch and kick and... now I forget the moves and let the dance flow through me. I’ve got a good sweat up. It’s like I’m back where I should be, outside the dopest joint on the old strip, lost in the tunes.

  There’re things I miss about that town. Dancing is one. On the nights when Mom wasn’t coming home, I’d cut out of Tuan’s and head downtown. There, lights sprinkled over me, and music and slots clattered up and down the streets. How’d I get stuck here in Hicksville? I hop on my toes and spin, go around, elbow out, head out... .

  When the music stops, I flop onto my bag. After Chino Lite, the silence rings like an apartment house buzzer in my ears. When I look up, the two D’s and Marta are staring down at me. “What?”

  “Where did you learn that?” Marta asks. Her voice sounds like she’s just seen Britney Spears in person.

  The two D’s have their arms crossed over their chests.

  “Church.”

  “Can you teach me?” Marta has returned to Golden Retriever mode.

  “Only if you’re a fast learner. I’m leaving pretty soon.”

  “Why?” Marta sits next to me, her Love Bunny brushing against my arm. She has a look I don’t understand, but it’s something between, “I failed my math test!” and “My mother has cancer.”

  “It’s time.” I’m not getting into “my grandmother hates me, my mother’s broke, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

  “Well, that sucks, you know?” Marta says. “But could you . . .?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll show you some steps.” I stand and Marta powers up Chino Lite again. “Go low and turn. Try again. Okay. Okay. Nice. Now, work your shoulders.” I stand in front of Marta and show her how to dip and sway, so her head and the top part of her body flow to the beat.

  Deirdre—I check out her nose—yes, for sure Deirdre, tries to follow, but she’s definitely not got the moves in her. Fish in the bottom of a boat do hip-hop way better than Deirdre. Deanna pretends she’s not interested, but I catch her looking up at us. She’s not kidding me. She wants to learn, and bad.

  Marta is a fast learner and she’s good. I give her a high five before I remember who she is and where I am.

  “I gotta stop. I’m bushed.” I fall back on my sleeping bag.

  Marta lowers the volume on the CD and crashes next to me. “You are good, Shawna. You have to enter the spring dance contest. You’ll win!”

  I shrug.

  “I mean it. It’s a big thing, you know? You get clothes, you get money, and... you ready?” Marta sits back on her Golden Retriever haunches. “A Chino Lite CD!”

  I want to shrug, but I can’t. I can win that contest, hands down. I’m getting ready to ask more about it when my friend Deanna, No Bump on her Nose, asks:

  “So when do you go back to Las Vegas?” She wants me out of good old Sweet River. Casey doth protest too much. I know all I have to do is show some interest and he’ll dump this little clone. Sweet little Deanna knows it too.

  “Whenever I’m ready.” I’m not giving her any information.

  Deanna pulls out her overnight bag and begins filing her nails. “Deirdre, what interesting little bit of news did you hear today?”

  Deirdre looks blank and fiddles with her hair.

  “You know, the story about how Shawna is seeing that psychologist in Sacramento?”

  What does Mom always say? “Expect the worst, then when the bad comes along you can handle it.” I should have been ready for this one. I’m going Sweet River soft again. No. Now I’m down to squishy.

  “That’s none of your business, Deanna.” Marta’s voice surprises me. It sounds hard as rock.

  “It’s none of anybody’s business,” I say, standing u
p and grabbing my bag.

  “Besides, it’s not true.” And it wasn’t. I saw a therapist, not a psychologist.

  I’m so out of this place, that before the front door closes behind me, in my head, I’m already packed and on the bus back to Vegas. I’m going to Kay’s, call Mom, get myself a ticket, and then it’s “Adios, Sweet River.”

  I sling my bag over my shoulder and pick my way down the hill, past the park and into town. The stores are dark and the streets are empty, except for a couple of cars in front of the Howling Dog Saloon.

  I walk past the saloon and look in. Nobody inside looks familiar or like someone I’d want to ask for a lift, so I hike back to the park and sit on the bottom of the plastic slide, my sleeping bag across my lap. Now what? I’m tired, so I lay my head on my bag and close my eyes. If I was sticking around, I’d get those stupid clones. Then they’d know some real pain. But right now all I want is a bed.

  “Shawna?”

  I’m almost out of my skin by the time I jump up and face Marta. “Damn, Marta, you scared me! What do you want now?”

  “I’m sorry, Shawna. Please come back to the house. They didn’t mean what they said. They’re like totally jealous of you, you know.”

  I point to myself, surprised.

  “Yes, you. You’re smarter and prettier than they are, and everybody knows Casey’s only dating Deanna to get your attention.”

  “He’s like, wasting his time. I’m so not interested.”

  Marta sits on the grass cross-legged and stares at me, like she’s waiting for me to say more. “I’m sorry I asked them to come, but they swore they just wanted to get to know you. It was stupid of me to believe them.” She plucks at the grass and piles it on her thigh. “I’m not too swift that way, you know? I always believe what people tell me.”

  “You wouldn’t last long in Vegas.”

  She sort of laughs and piles more grass bits on her leg. “So why the shrink?” she asks, finally.

  “It’s really none of your business.”

  “I went to a therapist once,” Marta says, “after my dad left. Me and my mom went. It helped.” Marta looks across the park. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Who says I’m ashamed? What is wrong with every friggin’ person in this town? Do they have to know everything about everybody?” I slam my sleeping bag with my fist, wishing it were Deanna or Deirdre.

 

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