by Hiromi Goto
The door chimed as he entered the diner. He slumped into a booth and picked up the laminated menu. He should be hungry, but he didn’t feel like eating. He’d never been a big eater, not like his popo. She used to chide him to eat more—Fill up!—until he asked her to stop saying it.
With a jangle of metal buckles and a stale waft of cigarette smoke, someone slumped into the cushioned seat opposite him.
“Hey!” The voice was overfriendly.
Gee flicked a look between the strands of his long hair.
It was the Neo Goth girl from yesterday.
Her eyes were overbright with lack of sleep revved up on coffee. She drummed her fingers on the table. “Never seen you come here before.”
Gee frowned slightly behind the cover of his hair. Maybe if he ignored her she’d get the hint and go away.
She looked much smaller than she had yesterday, he noted. She was short. At least a foot shorter than he was. Her dyed black hair stood up in uneven hunks. Some of the tips were bright red, as if she’d dunked them in acrylic paint. Black vertical creases were all that remained of black lipstick; otherwise, her lips were pale. Her eyes were blackened underneath like a football player’s. Gee didn’t know if that was done on purpose, or if she’d just smeared them accidentally.
“You’re a tea drinker, aren’t you,” she said decidedly.
“How do you know?” Gee asked.
The girl smirked. “I can tell. I’m good at things like that.”
Gee wondered whether she was on drugs, and if that’s why she didn’t act like other people did around him. Anyway, it was time to get rid of her. He flipped his hair to the side and stared directly into her eyes.
Her eyes were pale, the same shade as honey.
Gee stared expressionlessly into her face. Waiting for the moment when discomfort transformed into fear. Fear into anger. All the negative responses his eyes, his person inspired.
The girl’s eyes widened. Shock. A flash of fear. Then … curiosity.
Gee blinked, and sat back. This had never happened before.
The Neo Goth girl shook her head and a safety pin flew out from her messy hair and bounced off Gee’s chest before falling onto the table.
The girl’s laugh was a cross between a hiccup and a giggle.
Gee picked up the pin and held it toward her.
“You can keep it,” she said. “Souvenir.”
Gee didn’t know what to do or say.
“I’m Cracker,” she chirped. “Nice to meet a fellow night person.” She extended her hand, and, after staring at it for a moment, Gee tucked the safety pin in his pocket.
The waitress stood beside the table. “Your order?”
“Do you have Earl Grey tea?” Gee asked.
“Figures,” Cracker muttered.
The waitress rolled her eyes. “There’s Red Rose, or Red Rose.”
“That’s fine,” Gee said.
“Any food with that?” the waitress asked.
“Just the tea.”
The waitress rolled her eyes again. She went into the kitchen instead of fixing his tea at the counter where all the supplies were laid out.
“You better leave a nice tip,” Cracker advised. “She gets minimum wage for this crap job and the tips make all the difference.”
“I know how it works,” Gee said.
“Just saying!” Cracker said with exaggerated sensitivity. She leaned in close. “So, what happened? Did your gramma call the cops after all?”
Gee let his hair fall across his face once more. Who did she think she was, asking personal questions?
The waitress thumped the mug in front of Gee. The scent of bergamot rose in the air.
Gee glanced at the waitress’s face. She was sheepish. “I like Earl Grey, too. I have my own stash for my breaks. You look like you had a shitty night, kid. Enjoy your tea.” She walked away.
A smile broke across Gee’s face.
“You should smile more often,” Cracker advised. “Then you wouldn’t look so scary. You’re actually really good-looking,” she added. “Not that I’m in any way hitting on you.”
Gee turned to stare at her with incredulity. “Do you just say every little thing that pops into your head? Don’t you filter any of it?”
“No!” Cracker scowled. “Don’t be a moron! Of course I filter.” When what she’d just said seeped in, she tipped back her head and laughed.
When she laughed, Gee noted, she was really good-looking too.
As if catching the edges of his thoughts, Cracker stopped laughing and glared. “Don’t you dare hit on me! I’m not interested in you. I’m mostly into girls, okay?”
Gee shook his head. Her thoughts, her emotions, were dizzying. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he said, and sipped his tea. “You’re the one who sat down with me.”
“True,” Cracker conceded amicably. She sank back against the booth and half-closed her eyes, as if tiredness had finally caught up with her.
“Don’t you want to know what I’m doing out so late?” she asked Gee.
“No,” he retorted. As soon as he finished his tea he would go home.
“I was going on a mission of revenge, for your and your gramma’s sake, as well as for the greater good of queer justice,” Cracker said sleepily. “But I’m already on probation, so I thought maybe I should save it for something really big. In case I get caught. It has to be worth it.”
Gee couldn’t help glancing up at her.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t maim anyone,” Cracker murmured. “I’m not into physical violence. Just petty theft, vandalism…. Like Robin Hood.” She yawned so widely Gee could see three fillings in the back of her mouth.
“What were you planning on doing?”
“Trash that fucking Hummer.” Cracker shrugged. “He lives in a condo, a couple of blocks away from my place. I see him drive by all the time. It’s hard to miss that fucking thing. He lives closer to school than you do, but he still drives. What a moron.”
“We go to the same school?”
Cracker raised one eyebrow. “Just because you don’t look at anybody doesn’t mean people aren’t looking at you. I’m in Mrs. Park’s English class with you. Gee.”
“Ms. Park, not Mrs.,” Gee said. “And how do you know my name?”
“I love boys who’ve been raised by feminists.” Cracker smiled. The smile fell from her face as she began to scowl. “Don’t get any—”
“I know! I know! You’re not into guys!” Gee shook his head. Cracker, she was … not boring. But that was enough. It was time to go home, apologize to his grandmother and see if she needed any help. He pulled the sodden five-dollar bill from his pocket, flattened it on the table and looked up for the waitress. Her back was to him, her arms crossed. Gee set his empty mug atop the bill. Began sliding out of the booth.
“Where you going?” Cracker asked.
“Home.”
“Wait for me! Let me get my stuff.”
Gee stared into Cracker’s eyes. The girl did not look away. Her honey eyes shone bright.
“Why are you talking to me? No one else does. What do you want?” Gee’s voice was flat.
Cracker turned slightly away, a small laugh escaping her lips.
Nervous? Gee wondered. Or self-conscious?
“You’re really smooth, you know. Subtle.” Cracker shook her head. “You don’t fake stuff, do you?”
Gee frowned. “Fake what?”
Cracker sighed dramatically. “You know! Tell people what they want to hear. Pretend you don’t notice their bullshit. Hide your true feelings. That kind of thing!”
Gee’s heart lurched, but he kept his expression flat.
Your true feelings, the dark little voice crowed gleefully. If she only knew!
“Why would I bother saying things I don’t believe?”
Cracker slapped the flat of her hand upon the tabletop. Gee’s empty cup rattled. “That’s why I like you!” she said.
Gee blinked. “You didn’t know t
hat about me before you began talking to me,” he pointed out.
Cracker rolled her eyes. “You’re relentless!” She looked down at her hands.
Gee followed her gaze.
Her hands were small, pale. Her fingernails were bitten so low her fingertips were malformed.
Feeling Gee’s eyes, Cracker curled her fingers under into tight fists. When she spoke her voice was low. Quiet. “I saw something in you.” She swallowed. “Something that feels familiar.” She raised her head and smirked with bravado. “That good enough for ya?”
Gee stared into her eyes.
She held his gaze. Her honey-coloured eyes shone with a strength that Gee had only ever seen in his grandmother.
Gee looked away first, and slid out of the booth.
Cracker scissored her legs out of the seat, her unwieldy crinoline folds rucking upward. “Don’t look up my skirt, you pervert! I’m wearing shorts anyway!”
Gee shook his head. “The whole world can see.” She was unbelievable.
Cracker ran to her booth, tossed money on the table and ran back to Gee at the door, swinging her purse loosely in her hand.
“Don’t follow me,” Gee said as he began striding down the sidewalk.
The morning rush had already begun and buses whirred past, whipping cold air after them.
“I’m not following you!” Cracker said indignantly. “I’m going the same way, that’s all!”
Gee shook his head. His long strides were too much for her, and she was panting for air, a little wheeze every time she inhaled. Her jangling buckles, her wheezy breath receded as she lagged farther and farther behind. “It’s not good for me to run,” Cracker panted. “I have a small hole in my heart.”
Was she seeking his sympathy? Gee didn’t care. He could feel her glares burning into his back but he didn’t slow down. Cracker was interesting, but she was trouble. And, as his popo had always warned him, he must do everything to stay away from trouble.
Gee sighed. Even now.
“See you at school!” Cracker yelled from down the street.
Gee did not respond.
Popo, he thought. She was so stubborn. Not tell him about his past for another year and a half? She had to be kidding. He knew she loved him. But….
What was she hiding?
The skin prickled at the back of his neck. He didn’t want to look again and encourage that Cracker. But he couldn’t stop himself. She must be staring; the intensity of her gaze sizzled. Was she mad now? Gee glanced over his shoulder.
Cracker wasn’t there. Aside from some people standing around at a bus stop, the sidewalk was empty. No one was looking at him. No one that he could see.
Gee stuffed his hands in his pockets and strode toward his home.
A HANDMADE SIGN, “Closed for Repair,” was stuck to the shop door. The storefront window had been boarded up from the inside. It looked like sheets of plywood had been nailed into the frame. Had his grandmother done all that herself last night? A knot of guilt formed inside Gee’s chest. He loped through the alley to the back of the building and ran up the rickety wooden stairs. He tried the doorknob.
The door opened.
Gee frowned. It wasn’t like Popo to leave the door unlocked, especially after a night of vandalism. Their neighbourhood was prone to minor break-ins. Smash and grabs. A lot of car windows. His grandmother never left the doors unlocked.
“Popo?” Gee called out.
His words were too loud. And it was obvious the place was empty. It felt too hollow, too echoey. Without bothering to remove his shoes, Gee strode through the rooms. Nothing was in disarray. No one had come to terrorize the old woman. Gee’s overloud heart began beating more gently.
Where on earth could she be?
She must have gone to look for a replacement window. At that used house-parts place where she went to find a bathroom sink. Yes, that would make the most sense. She was like that—handy and practical.
A piece of white paper, folded in half, was propped against an old leather-bound book on the large wooden table where they ate their meals. Someone had written Gee across the middle of the folded page. It was not in Popo’s hand.
Gee plucked the letter from the table.
My dear young Gee,
I’m so sorry you have to find out this way. Early this morning, your grandmother had a fainting spell, then a terrible headache. She called me and I called the ambulance, just to be on the safe side. They took her to the Grace Women’s Hospital for tests. They may have to keep her there depending on the results. Please phone me when you get this message. Try not to worry. It will all be fine—I have faith. Please let your older sister know what has happened. It might be best if she comes home for a while. If you don’t want to be at home without your grandmother, you just come on over to the library and I’ll give you my house key.
Sincerely,
Ms. Carlson
Gee went back to the top of the page and read through it once more. When he was finished he folded the paper in half once, twice, three times, and tucked it into his jeans pocket.
Popo was ill. Okay. It wasn’t uncommon. Older people often fell ill. It sounded like a stroke. Popo had had a stroke. She was going to die….
No!
He had to get to the hospital. He didn’t want to talk to Ms. Carlson. He would raid the petty cash tin and take a cab.
His chest felt tight. Squeezed. His breath was a little shallow. Rapid.
“I’m not scared,” he whispered.
“You should be,” a gritty voice growled.
Gee leapt. He grabbed the nearest thing his hand could clasp before dropping into a crouch. His eyes darted as he searched for the intruder.
The voice had come from somewhere low. Someone. Hiding inside their home, all along.
“Death by back-scratcher,” the sarcastic voice continued. “Please, no. Anything but that.”
Movement. Behind the crushed velvet chair. Behind the red velvet curtain. The cloth rippled as something sauntered along the length of the heavy material.
The pink nose came first, followed by a flat, wide head. Cold, yellow-green eyes surrounded by dense white fur, the pointed ears of an enormous cat.
Gee shook his head, took a step backward.
The creature sauntered out dramatically, placing his dainty paws as carefully as if the curtains were part of a stage and he the star of the show. He held his white tail vertically, although the tip flopped a little to the side. He gave it an annoyed little flick, but the tip wouldn’t stay upright.
Gee stared at the red curtains, sweeping his gaze along the baseboards. He couldn’t see the feet of the person hiding behind the thick cloth. Who had spoken? Because it certainly could not have been the oversized white cat….
Gee dragged his forearm across his eyes. He was groggy because he hadn’t had any sleep. And the surprise of the news that Popo was in hospital. The cat hadn’t spoken aloud. He was imagining things.
How had the cat entered the building? Maybe when Popo was ill the door had been left open.
The cat yawned enormously, exposing sharp little teeth and a pink tongue. “Are you quite finished thinking up pedestrian rationalizations for my ability to speak your common language?” it asked in a bored tone of voice.
Chapter Four
Gee leapt several feet backward, the bamboo back-scratcher raised like a flyswatter. He did not yell.
With a grunt, the cat heaved himself atop the red velvet chair and sat down. He wrapped his tail loosely around his hindquarters, but the tip flicked up and down, almost of its own accord. The cat’s yellow-green eyes stared, unblinking, at Gee’s tight face.
“Trouble has come and you’re unprepared,” the cat said coolly.
“W-what are you talking about?” Gee’s voice was hoarse.
“Trouble has caught up with you and more is coming. And you haven’t begun learning how to control your darkness. I can smell it on you,” the cat continued. “Like a flower, ready to bloom.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gee whispered.
“Don’t be a fool, on top of everything else!” the cat snapped. “Evil will come courting, and you are ill-prepared. I told the old woman to see to your education. ‘Let him grow up innocent,’ she said! ‘For as long as possible.’ Humans!” The cat shuddered.
Gee realized he still had a death grip on the back-scratcher. He loosened his hold and set it down on the table. He rubbed his palm against the outside of his jeans.
“You claim you know my grandmother,” Gee said slowly. “Where is she now? What have you done?”
“Did you not read the note?” The cat narrowed his eyes into slits.
“You could have written it. Maybe you’ve done something to my popo!”
“Idiot!” the cat hissed. “I am your popo’s guardian and companion, from long before you came into our lives!”
“I have never seen you before,” Gee said flatly. “How do I know you’re not lying? And, if you are my grandmother’s guardian and companion, why aren’t you with her, protecting her, at the hospital?”
The cat rose onto all fours and arched his back, his tail growing larger with his agitation. “Because she told me that if anything were to happen to her I must transfer my loyalty to you!”
Gee fell silent. It sounded very much like something Popo would do…. And the ill-tempered cat was behaving exactly as if he were being forced to do something he did not desire.
“I don’t need your help,” Gee said. “Protect my grandmother.”
“Ignorant, arrogant, ungrateful git!” the cat snarled. “At least Melanie wasn’t filled with such hubris! Your education is long overdue. Love and kindness are all very sweet and cozy, but ignorance is nobody’s ally!”
A hard knot formed in Gee’s throat. “What do you know about my sister?” Dark tendrils began to twist inside his chest and he clenched and unclenched his hands. Too much … too many things were beginning to collapse.
“There is no point in talking to you when you know so little,” the white cat scoffed. He padded in a circle and curled up on the cushion, turning his back to Gee. Annoyance emanated from the thick white fur of his hind end. He wrapped his tail around his body and extended a paw, protruding a single claw toward something on the large wooden table that served as the family gathering place and study area.