Girl on Point

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Girl on Point Page 15

by Cheryl Guerriero


  “Oooooooooo! Cracker got showed up!” Tray yells.

  “Fuck you. I ain’t stupid!”

  “Gimme that shit.” Vince picks up the gun. “We about to find out.” He aims it at the window. “Place ya bets!”

  He pulls the trigger, and boom! Glass shatters.

  The room erupts. Ronnie pulls up her shirt and nervously rubs her belly. “Crazy! This shit’s crazy!”

  “Cracker, you one lucky bitch.” Tray takes a sip of his forty.

  Lori seems unaffected. She rolls her eyes and rises from the table. “Shit. Who’s got the Bud?”

  Chapter 28

  I sit behind the wheel, waiting for Natice. She is talking to Tray on the steps of Vince’s front porch. A moment later, she joins me in the car.

  “This was one fucked up night,” Natice says. “So is that the kinda games you play in Seattle?”

  I reach to turn the ignition, and Natice stops me. When I look at her, I have tears in my eyes. I don’t want to cry in front of Natice, but I can’t help myself. I can’t hold back the pain. Natice doesn’t say a word. She watches me sob uncontrollably, then she does something unexpected. She reaches over and holds me.

  “It’s okay, Ally. Whatever it is. It’s okay.”

  Twenty minutes later, I pull into Natice’s driveway. She tries to convince me to sleep over, but I refuse to. Even though I’ve worked so hard to get this close to her, I need to be alone.

  “You sure you don’t want to sleep over?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “A’right.” Natice observes me carefully. “Promise you’ll call me in the morning?”

  I nod. “Promise.”

  She gives me one last hug and exits the car.

  The sun is beginning to rise when I arrive back at the Shell Motel. I sit staring at my room door, unable to get out of the car. I think about driving home to Middletown. I think about Jenny being dead and the things I did tonight. I watched Cracker shove a gun in an old woman’s face. I watched her husband, unable to protect her, tremble with fear. I put a loaded gun to my head and pulled the trigger. I begin to cry. I really am alone.

  Chapter 29

  I wake up, having dreamt the gun in my hand had gone off. Moments later, my Cantor cell phone rings. “Hello?”

  “Good. You didn’t kill yourself,” Natice says. “Pick my ass up in an hour. We’re going to the aquarium.”

  Natice won’t take no for an answer, and an hour later, I step outside of my motel room and into the sweltering morning. It must be a hundred degrees outside. As I walk to the Oldsmobile, my thoughts travel back to last night. I played Russian roulette and lived. My only regret this morning is that Cracker did not pull the trigger.

  A loud squeak grabs my attention, and the old woman from a few doors down appears from the curb, pushing her grocery cart. She stops in front of her room, and I watch as her frail hands, ravaged by arthritis, insert a key into the lock and turn the knob. But the door doesn’t open. I suspect the heat has made the wood frame expand. The old woman pushes again and again. Her ill health and brittle body work against her. I stand there, watching.

  I pick up Natice at her house, and she directs me to the waterfront, where the aquarium is located. I remember having been there once when I was in elementary school. All the grammar schools in the Middletown area routinely take field trips there. I remember it being nice.

  “So how you doin’?” Natice asks.

  “Good.”

  “Uh-huh. Why is it I get the feelin’ there’s something you ain’t telling me?” She holds my stare.

  “Probably because there’s something I’m not telling you.”

  “Yeah. Then what is it? What’s going on?” Natice sounds genuinely concerned.

  I laugh.

  “Why the hell you laughing?”

  “I don’t know.” But that’s not true. Any time I’m asked a direct question I don’t feel comfortable answering or I’m simply not quick enough to make up a lie for, I become nervous and laugh.

  “You’re not right in the head, you know that, Ally?”

  I laugh harder.

  “It’s a’right. You keep cackling over there. We all got our secrets.” Natice fans herself. She’s sweating. “Damn, girl, you need to get that AC fixed.”

  “Yeah it’s on my to-do list, right after ‘play Russian roulette with Cracker.’” I look over at Natice and crack a smile.

  “Like I said, you ain’t right in the head.”

  We arrive at the aquarium, and it’s as nice as I remember it. Natice and I pay our twenty-six-dollar admission fee and enter, grateful to be in cold air conditioning.

  We hit the Shark Realm exhibit first, walking through a mind-blowing glass tunnel with three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views. We are literally surrounded by dozens of sharks, whose eyes seem to watch our every move. Natice grows reflective as she watches a tiger shark swim directly above our heads. “I haven’t been here in forever.”

  I almost say, “Me too,” but I quickly catch myself. We walk up to the glass and touch it.

  “This is my favorite. The sharks. I mean, look at those eyes on that mean motherfucker. He’s like, ‘Don’t fuck with me, bitches.’”

  “He looks like Cracker. ‘What the fuck she doin’ here? What the fuck, Natty! This is my fuckin’ tank! What’s Ally doin’ here?’”

  Natice laughs at my spot-on imitation of Cracker.

  “We should’ve invited her.”

  “Shit. Cracker may be scared of you now.”

  “Good. Maybe Dirty Jersey will back off.”

  Natice smiles, and we keep walking.

  “So how often you come here?” I ask.

  “Shoot. I’ve only been here twice since my mom died. When I was little, she used to take me here all the time. She loved the sharks too.”

  I look at Natice, surprised to hear that. I had just assumed her mother was like Lori’s, off doing drugs, or in jail, or had just plain abandoned her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a’right. It’s been awhile.”

  “When did she die?”

  “Right before I turned eleven. She had cancer. She fought it for a couple years, then it jus’ got really bad, and she was gone in a month.”

  “That really sucks. I’m sorry, Natice.” I pause, reflecting on my own pain. “It’s probably the worst pain in the world. One day, someone you love is here, and the next… gone. And there’s nothin’ you can do about it.”

  Natice nods. “I miss her every damn day.” She looks over at me and forces a smile. As if sensing something, she asks, “You ever have anyone close to you die?”

  I want to tell Natice the truth, but I shake my head. “No.”

  From there, we visit a few other exhibits—Touch-a-Shark, Seal Shores, Secrets of Africa—before ending up at Penguin Island. Natice and I find a spot on a bench and sit down to take a break. Families shuffle by, and the place empties out, leaving us alone to observe a few dozen penguins enjoying what looks like an easy life behind a plate-glass wall. A couple of adventurous ones dive into a tank of water and swim around, while most simply sit on a huge rock, doing nothing but looking adorable in their little tuxedo-suit bodies.

  “Look at that little dude.” Natice points to a penguin whose back is to us. “His butt is all fuzzy.”

  “Fuzz-butt!” I nickname him, and we laugh hysterically, enjoying his tiny wedge-shaped tail waddling around. I take notice of another cute fella. “I like that one over there, though, with the little belly.”

  “Shit, there ain’t nothing little about his belly. He’s plump. Getting fat on fish.”

  We nickname a few other penguins then sit in silence, watching them. Natice’s cell phone rings, interrupting our moment. She pulls it from her pocket and sees it’s Lori. “Ignore,” she says, and sends the call to voice mail with
a press of her finger.

  “Did Lori say anything about last night?”

  Natice looks at me. “Other than thinking you’re crazy, no.”

  “So do Lori and Cracker always carry guns and rob ATMs?”

  “They were just fucking with you last night, Ally. That’s all. Just forget it. It was stupid, what they did. And it was stupid, what you did.”

  “Have they done it before?”

  “What do you think? Of course.”

  “Have they ever shot anyone?”

  Natice is silent for a moment then looks at me, serious. “You carry a gun around long enough, sooner or later, it’ll go off.” She rises from the bench. “Come on. Let’s go see the fuckin’ seals.”

  I sit there a moment longer, making sure Natice doesn’t look back. When I am certain she is gone, I open my hands, grateful to see the emblem of a tape recorder on the face of my iPhone. The app continues to voice record until I hit Stop.

  “Ally, you coming?” Natice yells from the other room.

  “Yeah.” I tuck the phone in my back pocket and chase after her.

  Despite the tense moment of me asking if Lori or Cracker ever shot anyone and my disappointment at Natice’s vague answer, Natice and I leave the aquarium exhausted by a good time together. The truth is, I like Natice. She’s a lot easier to spend the day with than Lea ever was. “Thanks for today,” I say to Natice as we arrive at her house. “I’m glad you called.”

  “You liked the aquarium, huh?”

  “I loved it. If I could, I would’ve smuggled Little Belly and Fuzz-butt home with me.”

  Natice smiles. “Cool. See ya tomorrow.” She gives me a big hug before leaving the car.

  I watch Natice disappear inside her house and wonder if I will ever get her to tell me the truth about Lori and Cracker. I remind myself I just need to be patient.

  When I arrive back at my motel room, I hit Play on the recorder to make certain it worked. I hear a crackling sound followed by my voice. “Have they ever shot anyone?”

  After a few seconds of silence, Natice’s voice comes in loud and clear. “You carry a gun around long enough, sooner or later it’ll go off.”

  Chapter 30

  I arrive at the pizzeria the next day and learn from Pop that Natice has called in sick. Later that night, I receive a text from Natice: Not in the mood for Fathead. See ya on Fri. xo Natty.

  None of the girls come in that night, and I’m pretty sure whatever they are up to is not good. I only wish I knew what it was or that I was included. The following day is Friday, and both Natice and I are scheduled to work. We each show up ten minutes late.

  “So what’d you do last night?” I ask as we wash and dry dishes in the kitchen. It’s our punishment for arriving late.

  “Nothin’. Jus’ stayed in.”

  I know Natice is lying because she doesn’t look me in the eyes. I’m starting to know her better. I try to coax the truth out of her by making a joke. “You sure you and the girls weren’t doin’ a lil’ convenience store shopping?” I still have no idea what “convenience store shopping” means, but I am determined to find out.

  Natice raises an eyebrow. By now, she’s getting to know me better too. “Crazy, I ain’t gonna tell you what it is. And the answer is no.”

  “No what?”

  “No, you ain’t joining us when we do.”

  “Why not? Dude, I could use the money. Trust me. My phone’s about to be shut off ‘cause I can’t pay it.” I raise my voice.

  “Well, that ain’t my fuckin’ problem, now is it?” Natice storms off.

  Natice can be mean when she wants to be, and she’s still moody at times, but I feel more myself around her and less on edge. Even working at the pizzeria is becoming more comfortable. I’m learning Pop is all bark and no bite, and even some of the guys who used to scare me don’t bother me as much. After the Russian roulette routine, they act more like fans than guys who want to date me, which is a huge relief.

  Later, when we’re tossing bags of garbage in the dumpsters out back I make one last attempt at being included in Lori’s criminal activities. “Look, if you guys can’t get the Jesus-mobile, just let me know, and I’ll drive.”

  “What’s the Jesus-mobile?”

  “Ronnie’s mother’s car.”

  Natice cracks up. “Shit, that’s funny. I gotta tell Lori that one.” She starts to walk away, but this time I follow her.

  “Natice, can you at least talk to Lori about including me?”

  “Girl, didn’t you learn your lesson the last time?” Natice snaps. “And why you gotta be so pushy about it?”

  “Lemme see. Not only is my phone about to be shut off, I’m also sweating my ass off in that fuckin’ piece of shit car ‘cause the AC needs to be fixed, and I don’t have the money.” Then, preying on Natice’s sympathy, I add, “I know it’s not your fuckin’ problem, but my grandmother’s medicals bills are insane, and she’s gonna get kicked out of that shit-shack Shell motel because we’re two months behind. I’m sorry I asked.” I walk back inside.

  “Hold up. Jesus,” Natice says.

  I stop and look back at her.

  “Let me think about it, okay? I’ll feel guilty if something happens to you. A’right?”

  “What could happen?”

  “We get caught.”

  “You haven’t so far, have you?”

  “Ally, I’ll let you know. Just quit fuckin’ askin’ me.”

  I stop asking and begin to lose hope that I will ever get the evidence needed to send these girls to prison. I’m in the basement cleaning and restocking the shelves when Natice confronts me. “Are you serious about making extra money?”

  “As long as it isn’t an ATM robbery.”

  “Don’t worry. It won’t be.”

  “So does that mean Lori said yes?”

  “What the fuck do you think it means?” Natice disappears up the stairs.

  “Thanks, Natty!” I yell, smiling.

  Chapter 31

  “You see this?” Cracker shoves her left hand into my face, showing off her black diamond tattoo.

  It’s Sunday night, and this is the first thing Cracker says to me when I arrive at Lori’s house.

  “What’s that, a beauty mark?” I’m no longer afraid of Cracker.

  “You’re just the fucking chauffeur. That’s it.” She climbs into the backseat of my car.

  “Come on. Let’s go! Chop, chop, hookers!” Natice yells to Lori and Ronnie, who walk at a leisurely pace to the car.

  Ronnie holds a fork and eats something out of a plastic container.

  “What the hell is that?” Natice asks.

  “Dinner.” Ronnie slides into the backseat next to Cracker.

  Lori swaggers up to me with a smile. “You ready to do a lil’ convenience store shopping?”

  “Hell yeah.” I plaster a big, happy smile on my face and hope my phoniness isn’t as transparent as it feels. True happiness would be seeing Lori dead.

  Lori laughs. “See? That’s why I like Cheerleader. Girl says yes to anything, even when she don’t know what the fuck it is.”

  We’re the last to climb into the car.

  Lori looks over at me from the passenger seat. “Jus’, uh, no guns to the head tonight, a’right, Cheerleader?”

  “Can’t promise. I didn’t take my meds this morning.” I pull out of the driveway, and Ronnie’s food spills onto Natice’s leg.

  “Ronnie, put that shit away!” Natice flicks a piece of meat off her leg. It hits Cracker.

  “Hey! What the fuck!” Cracker yells.

  “What the hell is that, anyway? It stinks!” Natice says.

  Ronnie shovels something unrecognizable into her mouth. “My momma made this. Besides, that smell’s just Cracker’s upper lip.”

  They laugh.<
br />
  “Fuck you all!” Cracker waves her middle finger.

  During the drive, Lori whines about how Vince is being an asshole, Natice worries out loud about a test she has just taken, and Ronnie complains about how she thinks she is gaining weight.

  “Look what the hell you’re eating,” Natice says.

  Forty minutes into the ride, we arrive in Cherry Hill, a white upper-middle-class suburb in New Jersey. I spot at least three Mercedes on the road, and with each sparkling chrome wheel we pass, I tug at my jeans and at the collar of my white V-neck shirt. Both are suffocating me. We must stick out like a sore thumb, although no one else in this car seems the least bit concerned.

  “There’s one a little farther up,” Natice says.

  A few minutes later, a 7-Eleven store appears on the right-hand side of the road. Across the street from it are a hardware store and a bank. Both are closed.

  “Park near the hardware store, next to that van,” Lori says.

  I make a quick left and pull up alongside the van with a view of the 7-Eleven.

  “Shut off the headlights,” Lori tells me.

  I switch them off. “Now what?”

  “Now we wait, Cheerleader.” Lori smiles at me.

  “Shit, she’s scared.” Cracker watches me in the rearview mirror.

  She’s right. I am scared. My hands are clenched around the steering wheel like a drowning swimmer grips a buoy. I get a bad feeling about what will happen next, wondering if Cracker or Lori has brought along a gun. Even though Natice and I were promised that they wouldn’t, who’s to say they kept their word? Especially Cracker. I mean, everything feels exactly like the other night except that Natice is more relaxed, cracking jokes with Lori, whose eyes have remained glued to the 7-Eleven the entire time. I watch along with her, but nothing unusual happens. Cars randomly pull in and out of the 7-Eleven’s parking lot. Suddenly, a Ford Explorer pulls off the road, parks, and a guy in a baseball cap steps out. He leaves the engine running as he disappears inside the store.

  “Now that’s a stupid thing to do,” Lori says.

 

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