Sneak Thief

by Faith Harkey

  With that, they were gone.

  I will say, I noticed one good thing right away. There wasn’t a thing to steal. Food was the only thing for sale, and all the prizes were kept safe behind counters.

  “What should we do first?” Desiree asked.

  I set my eyes on the row of games and wondered if I could win something without cheating. “Those game booths look all right.”

  “Games are stupid,” Kitty said. “Let’s do rides.”

  “I think…we could do both,” Desiree ventured, though her tone seemed a little wobbly.

  As if Desiree hadn’t spoken, Kitty insisted, “We have to go to the Tilt-A-Whirl. It’s the best.” She grabbed Desiree’s wrist and bulldogged forward.

  Desiree gave me a smile as she stumbled in the direction of the rides. “We’ll do games next, Hush.”

  I nodded and trundled off after them. What else could I do?

  The line for the Tilt-A-Whirl was thirty minutes long, and it cost each of us three tokens. For all that time and money we spent, you’d think it would be something more than getting flung in pukifying circles until they cast you out, legs a-wobbling, with a strong desire to lay down. Maybe the fair wasn’t such a fancy buffet.

  After the ride, Desiree pointed us to a ring-tossing game where you could win stuffed animals and whatnot. Desiree and I turned over a token apiece.

  “I’m saving mine for something that’s actually fun,” Kitty sneered.

  Desiree started the tossing. She didn’t have very good aim, so she missed all the bottles. She did manage to knock one of the prizes off the shelf, though.

  “That means she won, don’t it?” I asked the attendant, knowing full well it didn’t. “You ought to give it to her.”

  The man didn’t agree, but on the glad side, my ring-tossing skills were fine. I got three out of three, which meant I could take any prize I wanted. I picked a set of jewelry pins; they matched and said “Forever Friends.” Of course, I had a plan to give one to Desiree later.

  After that, Kitty dragged us off to a roller coaster, then to a ride that shot a capsule of people in the air and let them fall till they almost hit the ground. I was fairly sure we were going to die, so I had to quick-decide what my dying wish was. You know, because of the way last words have special power.

  As we fell into certain darkness, I whispered, “Let Nina find her way.”

  It turned out that we didn’t die, though, so I figured Nina was on her own after all.

  With all the flinging and dropping out of the way, Kitty decided it was time to eat. I couldn’t fathom it. Surely her stomach was a churning mess, too! How could she even think of food?

  I heard myself say to her, “What were you—born on Crazy Creek?”

  Desiree turned pale.

  A gray-red imp flared on Kitty’s left shoulder. She sputtered, but found her tongue fast enough. “At least I wasn’t born in a trailer! Who’s doing the whiskey tango tonight? Hush Cantrell’s mama in ’Bagoville, that’s who!”

  She didn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before, but the fact that she said it in front of Desiree? My stinger came out in a flash.

  I stepped up and put my nose just an inch from Kitty’s. “You keep my name out of your mouth, Madam Questrian, or I’ll bring my trailer stank right to your door. You understand me?”

  Kitty plainly wasn’t ready for the ire I gave it. She took a step back, then another, and I could see she was afraid.

  When she was a good distance off, Kitty spat, “You’re nothing.” And then, “I’m getting some food. Come on, Desiree.”

  Desiree looked from Kitty to me.

  “Hush,” she whispered, “you shouldn’t have started that.”

  With one last, sad glance, she followed after Kitty.

  And there I stood in the middle of tilts and whirls, funnel cakes and fried candy bars—with two Forever Friends pins in my pocket.

  I grabbed a boy, dumped my tokens into his hands, and went to sit with the cows at the 4-H display.

  * * *

  —

  Chained to a wall so they couldn’t wander off, those bovines all looked as forlorn as I felt.

  “You know what?” I asked one cow. “I wonder if there really are any deep-down good people after all.”

  * * *

  —

  It was Becky who found me collecting bits of sweet feed from where it had fallen onto the dirt floor.

  “What are you doing there, Hush?” I heard her warm voice ask behind me.

  “I think this cow is hungry.”

  I strode over and set my seed-filled hand before the cow’s muzzle. She licked it up eagerly. The warmth of her tongue was a kindness, and I thought maybe I should give her one of the friendship pins. I could tack it to the tag in her ear.

  “I see,” said Becky. In a gentle mama’s tone, she added, “It’s after nine, you know.”

  I dropped my arms to my sides. “Oh, Becky. I’m sorry. I just keep messing up.”

  “Desiree said something happened with you three.”

  I nodded.

  She reached out and stroked the cow. “My daddy was a cowhand. Sometimes I thought he knew cows better than he knew people.”

  That was something I could understand, just now. I gave a little laugh.

  “He taught me some of it,” she went on. “This cow, she looks healthy enough. Well fed.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  “She may be a little sad because her baby’s penned somewhere else,” Becky continued. “You can see she’s got a lot of milk in that udder.” Now she spoke to the cow. “Are you missing your baby, sweet thing?”

  The cow gave Ma Orr a lick on the chin.

  “Why do people do things like that?” I wanted to know.

  “Take calves from their mothers, you mean?”

  I nodded. “It’s cruel.”

  “It’s”—she looked into the distance before she went on—“hard. Not every farmer does it that way.”

  “Did your daddy?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  After a time, I said, “I don’t think I can spend the night at your house.”

  “That’s your choice.” She reached around and rubbed her own back a little. I caught a glimpse of two pain imps there. “But we’d be glad to have you.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just walk back to Mabel’s.”

  “It’s too late for walking alone. And that’s a couple miles, at least.” She said it nicely, but I could tell she wasn’t going to let me go off on my own.

  “Please don’t make me get in that truck with Kitty…” And Desiree, who hates me now forever. “Please.”

  “Tell you what,” said Becky. “I saw JoBeth at the safety booth. Let’s see if she can give us a ride, all right?”

  I nodded, relieved.

  “Hey, Hush?”

  I looked into her eyes.

  She told me, “A lot of people grow up in trailer parks. I did. And you know what that says about me, as a person? About who I am in my heart?”

  I shook my head.

  “Nothing,” she answered.

  I took that in. “Did people ever call you names?” I asked. “ ‘Trailer trash’ and whatnot?”

  “Some.” She shrugged. “Nobody whose opinion I care about now. But it was hard at the time.”

  We were quiet for a while.

  “Closing up here, ladies,” the 4-H attendant told us.

  I brushed dust and hay off my jeans. “I guess that means us.”

  Becky set an arm round my shoulders.

  “She’s a nice cow,” I said as we walked to the safety booth.

  “Very nice,” Becky agreed.

  Before she and JoBeth dropped me at Mabel’s, I made sure to yank
those pain imps off her back.

  * * *

  —

  The next morning, I was roused by the sounds of voices. It took me a few seconds to realize that Desiree’s was one of them.

  I rushed onto the porch, where I found Mabel sipping tea, grinning over something Desiree was showing her.

  “Hey!” I said. “Good morning!”

  Desiree’s smile disappeared. She took back whatever she was sharing. Two pain imps trembled near her heart.

  “I’ll see you later, Missus Holt.” She didn’t even bother to look at me as she said, “Your satchel’s there on the step, Hush.” And then, just to make sure I knew she wasn’t doing me any favors, she added, “My ma made me bring it.”

  I mouthed, Help! at Mabel, but she only shrugged and whispered, “Talk to her!”

  Meanwhile, Desiree was already down at the gate, swinging it shut behind her.

  “Desiree, could you wait up? Please?” I called.

  She stopped walking.

  I ran up. “Hey.”

  “What do you want?”

  I could almost hear the door of her heart as she closed it against me. My insides lurched. Desiree and me. That was the real fancy buffet. And now it might be over for good.

  It was too soon!

  I took a breath and steadied myself. I knew I had to get this right.

  Unfortunately, what I said was, “Did you, uh, like the fair?”

  She glared at me.

  I tried again. “What was that you were showing Mabel?”

  “Nothing you’d care about,” she sniped.

  “Please, Desiree. I’m sorry I didn’t spend the night,” I said.

  She sniffed, a little too much like Kitty for my taste. “I’m glad you didn’t spend the night!”

  “You’re…glad?” Now my temper flared. “Why, so you and Kitty could have all your separate horsey fun?”

  Desiree’s eyes turned to slits. “Don’t you say one bad word about my horses!”

  “What is wrong with you?” I pounded my foot. “Can’t you see? That Kitty is a mean girl!”

  Here’s where she surprised me. “Now who’s born on Crazy Creek? Of course I know she’s mean!” Desiree shouted. “She’s awful! But her mother gives out the scholarship that lets me do my riding lessons! If I make Kitty mad, her ma could take away the money. It could be the end of my horse riding forever!”

  I was reeling over the notion of Desiree losing something so important to her, but she went on.

  “But even, even if she’s terrible—and I know she is—she was my guest. You should have treated her better!”

  “Wait a minute now, blondie! I was your guest, too! I didn’t see you get all riled up when she was mean to me!”

  She crossed her arms and leaned in. “You don’t know what I did or didn’t do, Hush Cantrell. You left.”

  “I thought you were glad I didn’t spend the night,” I taunted.

  Desiree opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, she said, “Just leave me alone.” She spun on her heel and put her back to me.

  “No!” I kicked at a fencepost. “I want you to tell me why she is a guest and I’m—I don’t even know what. The doormat under her feet, I reckon.”

  “Rrrrugh! Don’t you know anything?” She flailed her arms wide, and I got a fresh view of those pain imps near her heart. “Guests are people to look after and tend. You’re nothing like that. You’re—”

  “What! What am I?”

  “You’re—special!” Her nostrils flared, her breath came hard. “I thought you had my back! I thought you’d help me! Not make it so my fondest dream gets taken away.” She dropped her chin to her chest. “Hush, I am sorry Kitty was awful to you. But I have got to be a horse witch, I’ve got to. And the teacher at the stables, she knows the way. She knows. If I lose that…I won’t be me.”

  I felt the power of her words on my very skin. I couldn’t help but believe her.

  I couldn’t help but put those lessons at the top of my Get It Done list.

  “Did she? Did she take away your money?” I tried to figure how much yoga I’d have to teach to buy horse lessons for Desiree. Or, if it came down to it, what I could steal and sell for the cash.

  Desiree shook her head. “No. It’s fixed, I think. My ma helped smooth everything out.”

  Relief flooded me. “Okay, then. So, now all we have to do is keep Kitty happy until you finish your learning.” I thought for a minute. “She loves those dang amusement rides. I wonder if we could get her a ticket to Whipsaw World.”

  Desiree let out a little laugh. “Now you’re being silly.”

  “I’m serious! The donation money from six or seven yoga classes should be enough. And then maybe Mabel will let us trade her the cash and she can order the ticket with her credit card and—”

  She held up a hand: Stop.

  I went quiet.

  “I…should have told you who Kitty was. I should have told you about the scholarship,” Desiree said.

  “When did you have time? I showed up at your door and surprised you.”

  She shrugged. “But still.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  She reached out and pinched the fabric of my sleeve. “I did blow up at her, later. She called you a name and I blew up like a toad.”

  I took that in. I even tried to imagine how it might have happened. I couldn’t know for sure, of course, because no one had ever defended me before.

  “You stuck up for me. That’s the part your ma had to smooth over,” I realized.

  Desiree nodded.

  I reached out for a tree branch and fiddled with a leaf. “I’m glad your lessons are safe.”

  She set her hand on the same tree. “Want to know something?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Kitty snored so loud.” She rattled a long, fake snore. “I swear, the walls shook.”

  I barked a laugh.

  We both said sorry a few more times, and then some kind of special clouds rolled in and Desiree got all excited about that. Then I asked her if she’d come with me to check on my repotted plant. She said she would. As we hovered over the perked-up leaves, I was glad to see that Desiree’s pain imps had faded to almost nothing. A little later, Mabel asked if Desiree wanted to stay for brunch—and things started to feel all right again.

  I wasn’t brave enough to give Desiree the Forever Friends pin face to face, but I did sneak out later that day and set it on her windowsill.

  The next time I saw her, she was wearing hers and I was wearing mine, and Becky complimented us both on our good taste.

  The weeks shuffled by. Before long, I learned all the names of my yoga students and even got so friendly with some of them, they’d bring me fitness clippings from their magazines. Word about the lessons spread, and things got so big that Desiree and me had to start a second class. Plus, I was getting so good at plants, people would stop by to ask me for help with their gardening troubles! I was getting to be a real, respected citizen!

  I even found the courage to go into town now and then, to pick up something for Mabel. It seemed to both of us like a good experiment—walk in, buy what I needed, walk right back out. And it went just about that smoothly, except that everywhere I went now, I kept bumping into folks I knew. Good thing about that, it made it almost impossible to thieve. My loco seemed to figure that, too. It came around a lot less often.

  Yup, everything was going real fine.

  Until I saw Nina.

  On that particular day, Mabel had decided “the baby” positively had to have potato salad. She said that a lot, that the baby wanted something when Mabel, herself, was the one who was craving. It had become a joke between us. So I said that baby was right smart—I could surely go for some potato salad, and maybe even a burger to go with it. Then Mabel’s eyes got r
eal big and she told me what the baby really wanted was a cookout with burgers and lemonade and potato salad and deviled eggs! I observed that was one hungry baby, but who was I to deprive a little one? Maybe, I added, we should even invite the Orrs over, since I ain’t had my mandatory family supper that week.

  All this to say, we were fixin’ to have a cookout.

  I had a biggish grocery list, but not so much I couldn’t carry it home on two arms. I’d long since learned to leave my first daddy’s jacket at home when I went shopping. All that big, baggy pocketedness was nothing more than a temptation to sneak-thieve, while tiny jeans pockets could hold things I was supposed to carry, like dollars and change and Desiree’s rock.

  Mabel had tried to put some money in my hand, but I told her I’d be proud if she’d let me buy the food from my yoga dollars. Other people might not like spending the cash they earned, but for me it felt like a big ol’ butt waggle in the face of my loco.

  The store’s ground turkey was looking a little blinky, so I asked the meat man if he could arrange something better. When he started to gee and haw, I reminded him that I was shopping for Mabel Holt—poor pregnant Mabel, having her second baby so late in life, Mabel who really did need every itty-bitty vitamin she could get, didn’t he think?

  Off he went, searching for better turkey, and I had nothing to do but wait. For a time, I examined a nearby potato-chip display, thinking whether “the baby” would prefer cheddar or barbeque flavor. But in the middle of that, I happened to look up, and guess who was staring right at me?

  Nina had so many pain imps coming off of her, you’d have thought she’d been swimming in Leech Lake. The second our eyes locked, her frown turned to a scowl, and she started striding my way. Or she tried to. She was drunk.

  “You!” She stumbled, poking a finger at me. “You ungrateful sorry excuse for a daughter! Look at you, sashaying all important-like! Look at me! I’m a nib buying food!” She bobbed her head in a way that, I reckoned, was meant to resemble me.

  I was frozen stiff—and for stupid reasons. I had to wait on my turkey. I didn’t want to make a scene. Somehow, the mere presence of my ma sucked the brain right out my head.