Pennies from Burger Heaven

by Marcy McKay

  Somebody elbows me and pushes me out of the fight. The war’s whirlwind continues.

  I stand there stunned for a second, almost waiting for them to yank me back, but they don’t. My feet do the thinking for me and fly away.

  The fight sounds farther away. I don’t look even back and keep my eyes focused ahead to the blinking Party Palace sign in Paradise. I keep picturing me in a little, white house with red shutters and a dog named Sugar. I just hope I live long enough to make that happen.

  CHAPTER 37

  The sky darkens around fat clouds, heavy with either snow or rain. I can’t believe how much the temperature has dropped since I left Paradise. The weight of what I did almost leaves me staggering. Yeah, Eddie Loco deserved it, but does that make me just like him?

  The Burger Heaven parking lot got shoveled clean and the dirty snow’s piled on the sides. Brown water trickles into the gutter. I’m dying for a bathroom.

  Inside, the burger-and-fry smell smacks me so hard that my eyes water. I could crawl under any of these tables and sleep for a bazillion years, but I need to call O’Dell. He’s probably worried.

  In the bathroom, I fix my panties with a wad of toilet paper. There’s not much blood, but it’s definitely there. It’s my new beginning. The sink’s warm water feels great. I use extra soap to wash my face and hands, wishing I had time to scrub Moley off me. As I look in the mirror, I don’t let it upset me much. Those scrapes and bruises are the past.

  It’s weird watching our corner from this side of the window. It’s like a faraway world from in here. When folks see us out there with our sign, I’m not sure they really see us.

  There’s an empty booth where someone left their onion rings. It’s not stealing since they didn’t want ’em anymore. I’ll save these for later. Someone in the parking lot is bound to have a phone. This new lucky penny rocks snot. I’m about to find Mama. I can feel it.

  “I told you to never come back,” a scruffy voice says.

  The Burger Hanch. So much has happened since she kicked me out of here three days ago. She’s still sausaged into her ugly baby-blue uniform and her stringy black hair stays mopped up on top. She’s holding a dish towel, with her arms crossed at me. She looks the same, but I feel totally different.

  “I needed the bathroom. That didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “The bathrooms are for customers only.”

  “Here.” I give her a quarter for the food, even though I need it.

  “That doesn’t come close to paying for it. Besides, no loitering.”

  While she rambles on about what I can and can’t do, I stare at the words on this garbage can—TRASH. That’s all she’ll ever see us as.

  The Burger Hanch uses her biscuit-eating butt to open the door to kick me out again. So many things tip my tongue to take her down a notch or two, but I brush right on by ’cause she’s not worth wasting my breath.

  In fact, I’m taking her off my Enemy List. I may scrap that altogether. It’s too hard to keep track of and makes me tired carrying around all that hate. The new me doesn’t want that. As she closes the door on me, I say, “Have a nice day.”

  It freaks her out so much that niceness may be my new weapon of choice.

  The sun shines more silver now and the wind blows colder. I’m not sure where to sleep tonight. The Laundromat reminds me too much of Turdmouth, so maybe I will try O’Dell’s house.

  An older lady with gray dreadlocks opens the front door to her beat-up van. There’s a faded desert spray-painted on the sides. I can read every word of the bumper sticker on back: I USED UP ALL MY SICK DAYS, SO I CALLED IN DEAD.

  I like her and walk straight up to her on the driver’s side. “You got a cell phone I could use? It’s an emergency.”

  She pulls one from her pocket and gives it to me. “You okay, punkin’? You look like you’ve had a go of it.”

  “I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

  She walks to the back of her van and opens the double doors. I hear her rummaging around. I guess to give me privacy.

  O’Dell answers on the first ring. “Hello?” he sounds flustered.

  “Sorry I hung up on you earlier. You’re not going to believe what happened.”

  There’s no smartass comeback, or even a joke. He doesn’t say one thing, but I swear he sniffles.

  “What’s wrong? Is Mai Wong okay?”

  “Yes. Her folks are with her at the hospital now.” He definitely sniffs this time.

  “Is that cop causing trouble?”

  “No, he’s been great … where are you?”

  “That Burger Heaven where you dropped me off last night. Why?”

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  The awful silence on the other end screams at me. Finally, I gather my courage. “What happened?” More quiet ticks away. “O’Dell, I’m serious. Tell me.”

  He sighs. “I’m at the cemetery. We found—” His voice catches and I hear him choke back a sob. “I’m sorry.”

  I try to make sense of the connections. Cemetery … found something … sorry.

  My insides turn icy. Time warps and slows. The cell phone shakes in my hand as bad as my voice. “Is it Mama?”

  “Stay where you are. Do not go anywhere without me.”

  I was right. It’s about her. I slam the phone shut and set it on the ground ’cause I can’t even say thanks to the dreadlocks lady for loaning it to me. I take off again through the parking lot as fast as my gimpy legs will go. She hollers something, but I don’t hear her. I’m too focused on one thing.

  I’m coming home, Mama.

  CHAPTER 38

  Two blocks from the cemetery, the last streaks of sunlight stretch a golden across the silver sky. Mama calls this twilight. That in-between place where day and night battle it out to claim their turf up above.

  I’ve been in enough fights today and race by the little, white house with red shutters without a second look. I know I’ll never see Sugar there again. He’s up in Burger Heaven now.

  I hope Mama’s not there with him.

  More tears clog my throat and my whole body’s numb. The not-knowing’s killing me, it’s like a heavy, crushing backpack. I wish I’d found out why O’Dell was so upset. The yank in his voice threw me into panic mode and I can’t stop it.

  More clouds swirl overhead as the storm brews bigger, the wet air smells like rain. Patches of snow spot the ground as I reach the cemetery’s back fence. The name rattles me as I squeeze through the iron bars—Eternal Peace.

  I don’t want it to be Mama’s time to rest in peace. I still need her here with me. I’m not grown up enough to live alone. I’m just a kid, no matter what my period says.

  Hurrying along, the graveyard crackles with electricity, and I hope it’s just another 10-88, a disturbance and nothing else. I’m not sure where to find O’Dell, so I head home to the Warrior Angel. The wind howls and I stop, bracing myself for more of Diablo’s wailing.

  It doesn’t come, but the gust blusters through me.

  Good. I’ve got enough problems and rush past Ilana Sakowitz and her Jewish buddies. I try to remind myself that I’m a brave and courageous soul like her, but can’t. I’ve never stared down Nazi Germans trying to kill my kids, I’ve never lifted an entire car to save a baby. I’m nothing without Mama.

  Mai Wong’s sneakers may never dry out from walking in the snow all day, but I push on. Sugar’s shallow grave in the Nobody Section sits empty. The UNKNOWN NEGRO’S there as always.

  O’Dell’s probably come and gone from the Burger Heaven. He may be somewhere here now looking for me, while I’m searching for Mama. We’re all chasing each other, but getting nowhere fast. The wind wails again. I stop.

  That deep, wounded animal cry jangles my insides. The pain in it is almost unbearable. Diablo must be nearby. I duck behind a grave and cover my ears, but I picture Sugar’s last minutes on earth when the Street Killer plunged a knife into the dog’s throat, his blood splattering the ground.

  The howling
ends, but not the hurt. The wind never cried like this before Mama disappeared.

  The Disappeareds.

  I stand on wobbly legs. She’s not one of ’em, I tell myself, but I’m not so sure. The trees, the graves and even the snowy ground seem to know something I don’t. The whole cemetery’s keeping secrets from me. I can’t pry ’em loose, so my feet just keep following my heartache.

  An owl hoots and swoops down nearby, though I don’t hear his prey screaming like before. Shadows, misery, fear—it all traps me. It’s barely dark enough now that I notice a bright, white light shining up in the sky. It beams like a spotlight a few sections over, maybe by the front gate, or near the Warrior Angel.

  I’ve never seen that here before, so I trail after it.

  I’m so wrapped up in my Mama thoughts I don’t realize I’m standing in the Mexican Section. It’s where I spotted Diablo the other night, but I only see the outline of fancy cross headstones. I’m about to leave when the wind howls again. Jumping behind a tree, I wait.

  That pitiful scream spills from the night, every hurt bleeding out in the open. Please don’t be Diablo. Please, please. The noise sounds nearby … then faraway … then close again. I can’t tell if it’s him, or where he is. Fear smothers me so bad I almost can’t breathe.

  The howling stops, but I can’t relax. The moon hides behind the clouds, making it even darker. One raindrop splats on my head.

  Great, a storm. There’s movement closer. I think I hear crying, but I’m not sure.

  There—by Maria Flores. Someone’s kneeling at her grave. The wind blows again and every muscle clenches up. I lean closer, I think I hear chanting through the breeze, “Lo siento,” over and over.

  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry …

  That’s what O’Dell just told me on the phone, “I’m sorry …” The gust stops blowing, but I still hear the chanting. His voice turns my blood colder than this snow.

  Diablo.

  He wants me dead for sure since I didn’t cough up his cash and never repaid him. Plus, he blames me for Spook’s death. He may even know I narked on Eddie Loco and got him … hurt, killed, what?

  The spotlight still shines overhead. I need to get back home, and step back, accidentally crushing some dead leaves.

  “Who’s there?” Diablo snaps.

  Pressing myself against the tree, I command every muscle not to move, though my heart drums double time. I’m too freaked to look, but don’t have to. The flick of his switchblade says he’s close.

  More snow and leaves crunch this way, though I’m not sure if he’s seen me or not. Are his footsteps moving the other direction? I think, so I might be okay.

  He whispers, “Está muerto.”

  You’re dead.

  Shockwaves of scared shudder through me since he spray-painted those words here in the chapel and in Paradise, too. His boots stomp this way. I’m desperate to become part of the trunk so he doesn’t notice me. I don’t know what to do. He’ll be here any second. My legs do what we do best.

  Run.

  I make a break for it, while a few more raindrops sprinkle down.

  Diablo hollers and stumbles back, then I hear him stomping after me. “You’re dead!”

  I believe him and race across the graves. No time for respect tonight. He hasn’t called me Roja yet, so I’m not sure he realizes it’s me. I hope not and keep going. Branches scrape my jacket as I zigzag along, trying anything to lose him. The wind gusts again, but there’s no wailing to it.

  Of course not, Diablo’s too busy trying to kill me. I know this cemetery better than him, but his legs are stronger. He’s not far behind.

  We’re headed toward the Historic Section and all the Somebodies’ fancy graves. The spotlight’s growing bigger in the sky, but I don’t think I can keep Diablo away long enough to reach it, so I loop around to the Main Mausoleum instead.

  There, I hide behind some naked rose bushes. My heart and my breath batter so loud I can’t believe he doesn’t hear me as he sprints by. There are other foot tracks on the ground, so hopefully it’ll take him a while to figure which one’s me if he’s following my steps at all.

  One second passes, two seconds, then three …

  A soft, steady rain drizzles down. I don’t want to get stuck in this storm, but it’ll disguise me better. I know the mausoleum windows are locked, so I can’t go inside. Diablo keeps sneaking in here at night. His gangbangers tagged and trashed the chapel. He probably killed Mama over the drugs she stole from him, then buried her who knows where. His sister’s grave is fairly new ’cause she’s got fresh dirt. Maybe he dumped Mama there.

  I’m burning mad now. I want to kill him for Mai Wong, for Mama, and all the trouble from his homies, but me dying doesn’t do me much good. I need a better plan. Think. I listen for Diablo, but don’t hear him anywhere. Did I lose him?

  I’ve got to risk it and run toward the Warrior Angel. I don’t get far when the night or my terror, trip me up and I fall. The cemetery tumbles around me and I eat dirty snow face-first. It even goes up my nose.

  Lying on the wet ground, I try to unscramble my brain. When I realize what happened, I hop up and start hobbling again. I hope Diablo didn’t hear me.

  There’s a stomp nearby. Are those footsteps, or the rain? I wipe my wet cheek, push past my pain and fear, then chase the bright, white light above. The grass is slippery and I struggle to not stumble again. The trees seem to whisper, but they still won’t tell me their secret.

  The dark chapel waits up ahead. I can’t go inside ’cause Diablo could trap me there. In passing the building, the dark cross watches from on top. The forever light that always shines inside on the cross isn’t lit tonight.

  That’s not a good sign, still I hurry on through the darkness. My breath rags out harder. Diablo cusses me out in both Spanish and English; it’s hard to tell from where, so I double back toward the chapel.

  Boots crunch nearer. As I’m whipping to the left, he grabs me from behind, then spins me around. I scream. The clouds break away and the fat, fuzzy moon shines down on us.

  Wet, black curls frame Diablo’s face. He seems startled to see it’s me he caught. Diablo sighs and squeezes my shoulders. “Why you always breaking my heart, Roja?”

  CHAPTER 39

  The drizzle falls harder. Me and Diablo are both soaked. He holds a knife with one hand. That’s still not his regular blade, the one with the pretty pearl handle, but it gut me to death, no problem. Did he use it to kill Sugar?

  He hauls me to the chapel porch like I’m a feather. I holler again and try to break free, but he keeps dragging me through the mud. The two giant urns still stand on either side of the door. He shoves me to sit on one and yanks back my hoodie. My wet curls spring out. The plant stabs me. The rain echoes on the porch roof with a soft tap, tap, tap.

  He jabs his knife in my face. “Why the hell are you following me?”

  My tongue’s too thick with scared.

  “Answer me!”

  “I-I wasn’t. Me and Mama live here. It’s safer than Paradise.”

  “You keep messing with my homies. I should off you right now.”

  Remembering Mai Wong gives me the guts to talk. “Eddie Loco raped Zhi Peng’s sister. He got what he deserved.”

  “I tried to help tu familia. I asked you for one thing and that’s find her.”

  “I’ve tried. What’d you do to her? Where is she?”

  “I want my shit back.”

  His blade presses so hard against my face I lean away. “I found your drugs. I’ll trade you. Give me back Mama and you can have ’em.”

  “Shut up!” He squeezes me tighter, like he’s deciding on how to kill me. Diablo seems lost on his own. Eddie Loco would’ve already devoured me by now.

  My whole body goose bumps under my soggy coat. I soften my tone to stall. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  His expression breaks into pieces. He looks away and stares out over the graves, just nodding once.

 
“How’d she die?”

  He doesn’t say. My thoughts jump wild over the best way to escape. I must’ve fidgeted too much ’cause Diablo’s knife jabs at my cheek. The blade hangs there a second, then moves extra slow against my freckles, cutting me for the second time this week.

  The sting rips through me immediately, burning like a bazillion fires on a cold night. I scream and grab my face, already tasting the metal of my blood.

  Diablo holds his knife in the air, like he can’t believe he just did that.

  Someone smashes something against his head. Diablo’s dark eyes roll back as he crumbles before me. His limp body lies beside my muddy shoes. I look up to see who saved me, hoping they don’t kill me next.

  It’s Turdmouth Tucker. He’s gripping a cemetery foot marker.

  Holding my sliced cheek, it dizzies me to watch him. Here’s the boy who gave me a pink, candy heart that said MISS YOU, then later stole mine, along with all my cash. My friend who helped me look everywhere for Mama, then turned into a traitor. Here on the chapel porch, a lot more than Diablo’s body divides us.

  Lightning flashes and brightens Turdmouth into a giant shadow. Thunder cracks across the sky, then it falls dark again. The rain pours harder. He’s dripping wet. I can’t see what his Hershey-Bar brown eyes are saying.

  He tosses the brick to the ground. For a full three seconds I’m glad he saved me, then I hop over Diablo’s body and shove Turdmouth as hard I can. “You stole my money.”

  He stumbles so far back that he’s almost out in the storm. “I did not. It’s all there.”

  “Then why’d you run?”

  He gives me Mama’s white envelope from his pocket. “Nothing’s missing.”

  As I flip through the cash, he seems to be right. The presidents are still lumped in the same order and facing the right way. There might even be a few more here. My confusion clouds worse than this night. All I can say is, “Why?”

  He shrugs, stuffs his hands in his pockets like he did last night when he gave me my present. I wish I could see him better, but he’s all shadow. He pulls us both a few steps away from Diablo, but doesn’t stop watching the body. “It’s hard to explain …”