“Okay,” Charlie says. “Get here fast, Lizzie. Dean said he’d be back before lunch.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll get there in time. Love you, buddy.” I hang up the phone and stare at an angry smear of graffiti on the back of the toilet-stall door. It feels like someone’s punched me in the gut and left me gasping for oxygen.
I have no idea how I’m going to save Trixie, but I’m willing to die trying.
Chapter Ten
“You know how I feel. No animals in the house,” Nan says.
We’re leaving the school, milky clouds of vapor spilling out of our mouths and noses with every breath. It’s freezing. Trixie won’t be able to last long outside in this weather. She’s too little and thin. It’s already eleven fifteen. Time’s running out. I’m going to have to text Charlie soon to put her outside or else take the chance that Dean is just making a false threat. But after what happened the other night, my guess is that his threats are anything but empty.
“I’m sorry your mother continues to allow that man to rule her life and take precedence over her children, Lizzie. However, there’s no changing my mind. My firm belief is that animals should be kept in the yard, not in the home.”
“But you don’t have a yard,” I protest. I’m know I’m walking on thin ice. Questioning Nan is not something I’d normally do unless I wanted to walk around headless, but this situation is desperate. Trixie’s life depends on me.
“I know this is difficult for you,” Nan says. Her black leather boots click rhythmically on the sidewalk. I find myself having to put in effort just to keep up. “But perhaps Trixie being surrendered to the Humane Society is not the worst thing in the world. It could give her the chance to be adopted by a family that can properly care for her and look after her needs as she gets older. And God knows we could all use that.”
I nod. Nan has a point, but I’m not willing to give Trixie up that easily. “The thing is, I don’t believe Dean will take her to the Humane Society. He’d never pay to have them take her.” I pause for a moment. “And she helped Dad so much when he was sick. She stuck by his side nearly every moment, day and night.”
There’s a quick intake of breath from Nan. “All the more reason she deserves a better home than the one Dean and your mother are giving her. A home with love, rather than one run by two drunks.” There’s a hardness to her voice and a fiery look in her eyes that tell me our conversation needs to end. So, even though I know she must realize Dean won’t try to find Trixie a loving home, I’m not going to push it further.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this angry. And that’s when I realize Mom’s decisions over the last few years haven’t just affected Charlie and me. The things she’s done—and neglected to do—have impacted Nan and others who loved Dad and were close to our family. It makes me think about people like the Andersons. They were really good friends with Mom and Dad. We’d go over there on a Saturday night at least once a month for dinner. Afterward, while the adults sat and finished off bottles of wine, Charlie and I would hang out with their twins. Jermaine and Aleysha were a couple of years younger than me, but I didn’t mind because we’d mostly play video games or watch movies.
The Andersons came over often when Dad was sick. Every visit, they brought Tupperware containers full of green banana and saltfish (Dad’s favorite) and homemade soups for when his chemotherapy made it difficult for him to keep food down. They came to the wake and the funeral and visited us often after Dad died. Then Mom started drinking a lot more and bringing home boyfriends who didn’t have much in common with the Andersons. Eventually, after Dean came along, they visited us less and less, and we completely stopped going for dinner at their house.
I haven’t thought of the Andersons in a long time. I wonder if they ever think of us, and how they feel about the way Mom ditched their friendship. Or maybe they were the ones who decided to step out of our lives. Either way, it is another sign of how much of our past Dean has managed to destroy.
“I’d like to go back to my old school today to say goodbye to a few friends and teachers,” I tell Nan as we walk into the lobby of her apartment building. “Besides, I need to clear out my locker. I have loads of things in there like gym clothes and library books that need to be returned.”
It’s not a complete lie. All those things are in my locker. It’s just I couldn’t care less about going back to get them. And even if I did care, there’s no way I’d chance going back to school and running into Fahad. I couldn’t handle that.
Nan fumbles around in her chestnut-colored leather purse for her key. “I don’t know why you’d want to go running up there today when it’s as cold as bones outside.” She fishes her key out of the purse and slides it into the apartment door’s lock.
“I won’t really have another chance to go,” I say, walking inside with her. I don’t bother taking off my shoes or coat. Every moment I’m not making my way uptown means Trixie’s life is in greater danger. “So…I’ll get going if that’s okay. I’ll be as fast as I can.”
Nan nods. “Get all your things. Anything you need before starting at Mary Ann Shadd, let me know as soon as you return. We’ll go pick up any bits and pieces you require this weekend so that you’re ready to go on Monday.”
I give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, which catches Nan completely off guard. She shoos me away with a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes. Affectionate is definitely not a word I’d use to describe Nan, though I know she loves me more than anything and would risk her life without thinking to save mine. And I would do the same for her.
As soon as the door shuts behind me, I begin running down the hall as fast as I can.
Chapter Eleven
A doughy-looking, middle-aged man with a only few wisps of black hair on his head sits across from me on the streetcar. He’s picking his nose and then wiping it along the steel-rimmed pane of the window, leaving a trail of snail-like slime. I try not to watch, but it’s like a bad traffic accident where everyone slows down their cars to get a glimpse. There’s something both gross and hypnotizing about it. The crazy thing is, he’s not even trying to hide what he’s doing. Every once in a while he turns and smiles at other passengers, with his index finger so far up his nose you’d swear he was mining brains.
Eventually I turn away and stare out the window at the heavy traffic slowing the bus down. My phone buzzes from deep inside my jacket pocket. It’s Charlie.
Lizzie—Dean will be back soon. Puting Trixie out side with her blankit tyed behind the bushes by parking lot.
The streetcar is pulling into the subway station. I have only a few seconds to text Charlie back. How can I tell him I’m still a subway ride away? I’m going to have to run the entire distance from the station home.
Take my duvet off the bed. Wrap her in it. Hopefully no one will notice. Be there soon, buddy. Will text you when I’ve got her.
I rush from the streetcar and into the crowded subway station. Flashing my card at the ticket seller, I take the stairs two at a time down to the platform. The monitor hanging from the ceiling informs me that the next train is in five minutes. My heart sinks. So much can happen in just five minutes. Someone could discover Trixie and take her or mistake the duvet as something that needs to be thrown in the trash. Nervous beads of sweat erupt on my forehead.
My phone vibrates again. I’m surprised to be able to receive a signal down here. It’s Charlie. My heart sinks as I read his message.
Dean home. Trixie out side. She was crying bad when I left her. Afrade Dean will go out and here her. He is look for her now. Starting to yell. Get here fast. Love Charlie.
The train approaches the platform with a screech. Chimes sound and people pour out, many of them carrying bags full of Christmas shopping. I rush forward and onto the train. My heart is thumping so loudly in my chest I’m sure everyone around me can hear it.
Dad, if you’re up there and can help at all, please let me get to Trixie
on time. Please.
By the time we reach the stop closest to home, more than twenty-five minutes have passed since Charlie’s last text. I push my way to the front of the doors and past several other passengers.
“Wait your turn,” an elderly woman carrying a tiny dog in her arms snaps at me.
I turn back for a second. The little dog makes me think of Trixie, and I immediately feel bad.
“Sorry,” I reply.
Eyes narrowed, the woman sticks a bony middle finger at me in response and clutches her dog closer to her chest.
That’s enough for me to not care at all about the passengers I rush by on the escalator. They can swear at me all they want. The only thing on my mind now is Trixie.
The cold air hits me like a slap as I slam through the glass doors at the entrance of the station. I begin to run, pacing myself as much as possible. If I can keep running like this, I’ll reach Trixie in less than five minutes.
My lungs are liquid fire, and my shoes don’t give me any grip on the slippery sidewalk. I slip once and crash down to the sidewalk. I hold out my hand to soften my fall, and the palm of my left mitten shreds like cheese on the frozen concrete. But I don’t slow down. By the time I reach the corner of our street, I’m tired and gulping at the air like a fish out of water.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull off the mitten on my right hand and take it out. My left hand is throbbing with pain.
Lizzie where are you? Dean is MAD. Hes yelling at mom. Thinks shes hidding trixie.
Two seconds away, buddy. Do you need me to come in?
I’m speed-walking toward our building when a wave of fear washes over me. What if Dean comes out and sees me? What if he comes out and finds Trixie before I do?
I pull my hood over my head, which makes me feel better, and cut across the parking lot toward the bushes. There are no leaves left on the spindly branches. I spot the flowers of my red-and-white duvet on the other side of the bushes and break into a jog.
“Trixie?” I say, keeping my voice low. The duvet moves slightly. I lean down, and that’s when I hear soft whimpering.
I lift the edge of the duvet and peer inside. Trixie looks up at me, her tail wagging weakly. She whimpers again. That’s when I notice she’s shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm.
“Hey, girl,” I say, leaning in and rubbing her fur. “I’m here now. It’s okay.”
Trixie’s tail thumps a little harder in response, and she tries to lift her head. I’ve got to get her out of the cold and get some food and water in her. I unzip my coat, scoop her up and place her inside my coat. Hopefully, my body heat will help stop the intense shivers she’s having. Though I hate leaving my duvet laying in the snow like a piece of unwanted trash, there’s no way I can take it back to Nan’s. Not only would it be a nightmare to take on the subway, but Nan would know straight away that I didn’t come up here to clear out my locker.
And that’s when I realize two things: Charlie hasn’t gotten back to me, and Nan’s going to expect me to come home with at least some of my school stuff.
I zip up my jacket, using one arm to make sure Trixie is supported. She feels so light. How did I not notice she was becoming this thin? Her shivering hasn’t stopped yet. I push that worry to the back of my mind as I text Charlie with one hand.
Charlie? Is everything okay? I can come in.
If I need to go into our place, I’ll leave Trixie in the downstairs hall. I won’t let Dean hurt her. Or let him hurt Charlie and Mom. He’ll have to kill me first. Thing is, I’m not so sure he wouldn’t.
My phone buzzes.
Dont come in. every thing okay. Dean will hurt you. trixie okay?
I’ve got Trixie. You call me if things aren’t, okay? Promise? Call the police if you need to.
I bite nervously at my bottom lip while waiting for his reply.
I will call if things get wurse. Love you Lizzie.
Part of me feels like I should go in to be sure Charlie is safe, but I know Dean will probably calm down once he realizes Trixie is actually gone. After all, that’s all he really wants. Trixie is a reminder of our old life with Dad, and now she’s also a reminder of me. Plus, feeding her means less money for booze, and that must drive Dean nuts.
I begin to walk back to the subway. I’ve only got about fifteen dollars left of the money I took from Dean. It should be enough to get some food for Trixie. Thing is, I need to find a safe place for her to stay until I can figure out a more permanent solution.
I peek inside my jacket, and Trixie looks up at me with her soulful brown eyes. Her tail wags against my side.
“It’s going to be okay, girl,” I say. “I promise.”
She reaches up and gives me a moist lick on the cheek. It feels almost like she understands what I’m trying to do for her.
Thing is, more and more I can’t get rid of the bad feeling spreading through my insides like water from a slow-leaking tap. I’m promising things will be okay for those I love when I don’t even believe it myself anymore.
Chapter Twelve
“Who is it?” The voice on the other side of the door is sharp and suspicious. Trixie wiggles around uncomfortably in my jacket. It’s been a long ride to get back down here, including a stop at No Frills to pick up some dog food. She seems to be gaining a bit more energy, which makes me happy.
“Maie? It’s me. Lizzie.” I don’t want to be too loud out here in the hall. I’m worried about Nan hearing me. “Can I come in?”
I wait as the locks on the door click, and it swings open. Maie wheels out of the way so that I can walk in.
She’s wearing a bright red shawl over flowing flowered trousers, and her hair is pulled back into a neat bun.
“I had my home-care nurse in today,” she explains with a broad smile and a wink. “I always make sure I pick something special out for her to help me get into. It’s good to see you, Lizzie. How are you settling in with Rosie?”
“Nan’s been great. She helped me get into school and everything.” I pause, rocking back and forth on my feet. Maie’s my only chance. More important, she’s Trixie’s last chance.
Maie gestures toward the sofa. “Park yourself, girl! You’re making me nervous. What’s wrong?”
“I need your help,” I say, sitting down and unzipping my jacket. Trixie barely moves, so I lift her up gingerly for Maie to see.
Maie’s eyes widen. “Where did you get that precious toy poodle from?” She wheels closer, and Chester barks excitedly as Trixie comes into view. “Hush, Chester,” she says. “This little one doesn’t look well, Lizzie. She yours?”
I nod, tears springing to my eyes. My lips tremble as I try to speak. “Nan won’t let me keep her in the apartment. But I had to take her. She wasn’t being cared for properly where she was.” My voice cracks with emotion.
Maie places a plump hand on my arm. Her skin is powder smooth. “It’s okay,” she says, leaning over and giving Trixie a gentle pat on the head. Trixie licks her in return.
“Your nan grew up in the countryside in the West Indies. Animals weren’t pets. You can understand that, right?”
I nod, unable to speak. Tears are flowing down my face now.
“I don’t want to give her to a shelter.” Tears and snot mingle on my upper lip. “But I have no one to take her. She stayed with my dad the entire time he was sick. Left his side only to eat and go to the bathroom.”
Maie reaches over and scratches Trixie behind her ears. “Is that right, good girl?” she whispers, her voice gentle. Trixie leans her face into Maie’s hand.
“I hate to ask, but could you keep her for a bit? Just until I can figure something else out?”
Maie stops petting Trixie and sits back heavily in her chair. “Lizzie, I’d love to take her, but…”
“Please,” I whisper, not fully trusting my voice. “Really bad things are happening at home right now. That’s why I left in the middle of the night to come here and live with Nan.” Reaching inside my backpack, I pull out the bag of
dry kibble and cans of wet dog food I bought at No Frills. “This is all I have for her right now, but I’m going to get a part-time job. That way Nan can take in my little brother, Charlie. And then I can give you money for Trixie.”
Maie’s eyes darken with concern. “I’m happy to care for Trixie as long as I possibly can,” she says. “And I’m a damn fine nurse, but I’m not sure she won’t be needing to see a vet. If that’s the case, I can’t afford to pay those bills, and neither can you.”
I understand completely. If Trixie needs more care, I’ll have to surrender her to a shelter. At this point, all I can do is hope.
“I know,” I say. My nose begins to run as I place Trixie on Maie’s couch. “Thank you so much. I’ll come by every morning and night to walk her and Chester. I promise.”
“You come by any time, but your schoolwork comes before walking the dogs. I can do that just fine with my four-wheeler,” Maie says, passing me a pink tissue from a box on the coffee table. “I know there are secrets weighing you down, Lizzie. And I’m here when you’re ready to share those. Does your nan know what’s been going on at home?”
I shake my head. “No. I need to figure things out first before I tell her everything. It’s pretty intense,” I say, standing and zipping my jacket back up. “Speaking of Nan, I better get back to her. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” Since it’ll be Saturday, there’ll be no worry about school. It’s going to be hard to be away from Trixie even overnight though. I’m afraid she won’t get better if I’m gone and she’s left in a strange place.
As soon as I’m inside at Nan’s, I kick off my shoes and walk into the living room. She’s sitting in her favorite burgundy velvet chair, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, reading the newspaper. She insists on being old school when it comes to the newspaper and has it delivered in hard copy to her apartment door, even though it regularly gets stolen.
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