The Toymaker

by Sergio Gomez

  “So, um, how long should we think about it?” she asked.

  Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and blew out some smoke. “Don’t know. However long we need.”

  Disappointed, Gina dropped her eyes down to the ground. “Okay, yeah.”

  Tommy got out of the seat, and stretched his arms out. “I better head on out, Homeschool.”

  “Yeah,” Gina rose too as Tommy walked down the porch steps.

  He half turned to look at her. “See ya soon.”

  “Bye, Tommy.”

  She watched him walk to his motorbike, put his sunglasses on, and wave to her before taking off down the street. There was definitely more than a crush building up inside of her when she looked at him now. It was gross, on one level, but on another it felt good.

  But it didn’t seem right that Gina Bobkin, the self-proclaimed tough chick who was braver than most boys, was developing feelings for a boy. A stupid one that she couldn’t stand before today, at that.

  She needed to get cleaned more than Anya’s fudge-covered t-shirt.

  Chapter 20

  Bob looked out the kitchen window overlooking the backyard. The damn leaves were everywhere. He’d told Oliver to get them raked up before he came home today.

  As if the pain in his back wasn’t enough, he also had a pain in the ass son. Bob sat himself down in the kitchen, waiting for Oliver to come bounding through that door all smiles from whatever lollygagging he’d been up to today. He didn’t have long to wait.

  The door swung open, and there was Oliver. His face fell as soon as he saw Bob sitting at the kitchen table, both hands curled into fists, the living room window curtains drawn closed.

  He knew what was going to happen. Knew very well, but he still asked, “Um, hey Dad, what’s going on?”

  “Don’t ‘what’s going on’ me,” Bob said, getting up and moving closer to him.

  It was times like these that Twist swore his dad could grow at least a foot taller, and wider, too. He thought about cowering away into the corner, but he knew that wouldn’t do him any good. It never did. Neither would calling out for his mom. This was between him and Bob.

  Bob grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him further inside. The jerk of the motion was so sudden Oliver didn’t have time to get his footing underneath him and he crumpled—thankfully—onto the couch.

  Bob grabbed him by the throat this time, and lifted him up onto his feet. “What did I tell you before I left this morning?”

  His dad’s grip was getting tighter by the second. He grabbed at his hand to try to get him to let go, but it didn’t do anything, so Twist squeezed out the words: “I…I can’t breathe, Dad.”

  Realizing what he was doing, but not really caring, Bob eased up on the boy’s throat a little. “What did I tell you before I left?”

  Twist swallowed air as fast as he could. “To rake the leaves.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “To rake the leaves,” Twist corrected himself, “sir.”

  “That’s better. And, did you do that?”

  Twist shook his head and dropped his eyes to the ground, and braced himself for what he knew was coming next.

  Bob cocked his hand back and slapped him across the face. The impact of the blow was so hard Twist felt something in his neck tweak. The sting spread through the entire right side of his face, and he started to cry over the ringing in his ears.

  “That’s right, cry,” Bob barked. He slapped him again, this one lighter, but it made Twist weep more.

  Bob threw him on the couch before starting to walk out of the room. The boy deserved more, but his back was starting to hurt something fierce, so the lesson had to be over for now. “Go rake them up now, before you get any supper. And no dessert tonight, either. Got it?”

  Twist curled into fetal position. He nodded.

  “Got it?” Bob asked again, louder.

  “Yes, yes I got it. I got it!”

  Twist grabbed one of the throw pillows on the couch and cried harder into it.

  Chapter 21

  After the fourth time of waking up in a cold sweat, Jack decided there wasn’t going to be any sleep for him tonight. The newly placed clock on the nightstand said it was three in the morning, but he was restless.

  He sat up in bed.

  His mind was racing with the story Tommy had told them. He’d told it with a big, stupid grin on his face that suggested he’d been yanking their chains, but that didn’t change what was going through Jack’s mind.

  What if it was a combination of both? That Tommy had been making most of that crap up, but he’d heard stuff about this house and that’s where the story had bloomed from.

  It might’ve even happened in the room you sleep in, Tommy’s words echoed in his thoughts.

  From downstairs, underneath his bedroom, he heard something. Like someone had dropped something in the kitchen. Except it couldn’t have been his dad or Maria, they were both asleep.

  It was probably just the fridge kicking on. Yeah. That was it, but better to make sure himself than to wake anyone up. He’d feel really stupid if he woke his dad up for nothing, especially after his dad had laughed off the story earlier.

  Jack put his slippers on, and made his way downstairs.

  Halfway down the staircase he stopped when he saw movement outside one of the front windows. Someone was walking down the street, but he couldn’t see who because they’d walked out of sight. Jack stayed where he was and waited for them to come into view through the next window.

  His heart thumped in his chest.

  Maybe there are ghosts in this town.

  He wished Vic and Twist were here to laugh at him.

  The person came into view in the other window. It was a girl with long hair that was almost silver underneath the moonlight’s glow.

  She was heading to the Bobkin’s house—

  Of course she was, because it was Gina.

  Duh!

  Relief flooded through him, followed by a wave of curiosity. It was hours until dawn, and well after midnight, what was Gina doing up and prowling around? He wanted to bolt down the stairs and out to ask her, but didn’t want to wake anyone, so he tiptoed down them and went out the front door as quietly and quickly as he could.

  Gina was still in sight by the time he was outside.

  He ran after her. “Gina!”

  She turned with fear in her eyes, as if her mind had been thinking about ghost stories, too.

  “Jack? What’re you doing out here?”

  “Couldn’t sleep,” Jack said, coming to a stop. “What about you?”

  “My mom works late nights at the hotel, so I walk around a bit while I wait for her to come home when there’s no school the next day.”

  Jack tried to wrap his head around what she said and fill in the blanks, because walking around the neighborhood at night was never a good idea back in Philadelphia. “Oh, I see.”

  “Plus, I can’t really sleep at night anyway.” She smiled. Then she said, “You want to come hang out in my backyard with me until my mom comes home?”

  Jack took a peek over his shoulder at his house. He didn’t go investigate what the sound in the kitchen had been, but it was probably nothing. Just a pipe creaking or something stupid like that. He was in his pajamas, too, but what the heck? When a cute girl in a new town asks you to come hang out with her, you don’t turn that down.

  He turned back to look at Gina. She was prettier somehow, out here in the dark. Her pale skin was more radiant in the dimness of the night, her green eyes brighter, her hair glowing around her like an aura. She may as well have been a spirit.

  “Yeah, that sounds cool,” Jack said, as calmly as he could.

  “Great,” Gina said, smiling, “I wouldn’t mind some company. Nights can get lonely out here, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Jack agreed, even though this was only his second night in this town. Somehow everything she said just seemed right.

  They walked into her backya
rd, and the first thing Jack noticed was the mess. There was a picnic table in the center that was so off balance you could use it as a seesaw. The top of it was covered with an array of toys—dolls with bald heads and missing eyes and dirt in their crevices, started puzzles that would never get finished because the pieces were lost in the grass somewhere, beads to make friendship bracelets, and other colorful pieces of plastic that looked like they belonged to a set that weren’t anywhere around.

  UNO cards, bags of chip, lollipop sticks, and miscellaneous clothes littered the grass. In the corner was an upturned plastic caterpillar that was meant to be ridden on, but had a wheel missing.

  Opposite this forgotten toy was a tree with a tire swing that Gina was leading him to. She grabbed a lawn chair on their way over and set it by the swing. Sliding her legs through the tire, she motioned for Jack to sit in the chair.

  “My mom won’t be home for about an hour,” Gina said, starting to turn herself in a circle in the tire. “Think you’ll make it ‘til then?”

  “I bet I can stay up later than you.” Jack fired back.

  “We’ll see about that,” Gina said, giggling.

  “The nights are so much quieter here,” he said out loud. During the day there had at least been the sound of dogs barking and the occasional car coming through the streets. At this time of night there wasn’t even that much to break the silence.

  Eerie when he thought about it one way, but serene in another.

  Gina rotated around in the swing until they were face to face again. “Now that it’s just us two, tell me the truth. You like the city or Dutch County better?”

  Jack saw the devilish expression on her face that told him she was messing with him. “I like both. Honestly.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  He laughed. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t know, you seem kind of spooked being out here.”

  Jack shook his head. “Nah, it’s just that in the city you hear buses and taxis and people walking around at all hours of the night. It’s never quiet.”

  “Never been to a city,” Gina said. She laid her head down on the side of the tire and studied Jack. “Never really been that far out of Dutch County.”

  “Dang,” Jack said, thinking about his trip to Disney Land with his mom two years ago (timed with the beginnings of the divorce, of course), and his ski trip to the Poconos with Dad last year, and his visits to Aunt Angelica and Uncle Chet in Boston every summer, and every family trip they’d taken to other states and to the beaches before that.

  “Have you been to a lot of places?” she asked him.

  “Here and there,” Jack answered, not wanting her to feel jealous. But in his mind, the list of places he’d been to kept growing, and the bigger the list got the less he could imagine staying in one place. Much less in a place like Dutch County.

  “That’s cool,” she said, leaning back and spinning the tire again. “Maybe one day you’ll take me with you back to Philadelphia.”

  “Definitely,” Jack said, and stuck his fist out.

  Gina bumped it.

  “Make it a promise.” Jack added.

  “Alright, I’m holding you to that.”

  They grew silent for a few seconds, then Jack yawned.

  Gina smiled triumphantly. “Aww, poor baby needs to go back to bed?”

  “No way! I’m staying out here long after you go inside with your mom.”

  “Yeah, right, City Boy. You’ll probably fall asleep right on that chair.”

  “Nope.”

  “You do, and I’m gonna write my name on you somewhere in permanent marker. You’ll spend days trying to figure out where.”

  “Whatever. You fall asleep first, and I’ll…uh, fill your socks with mud.”

  Gina leaned her head back and laughed before spinning the tire again. “You’re on, City Boy.”

  Jack laughed too, and thought maybe Dutch County would come to feel like a second home to him. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually.

  Across the street from Gina’ house and a few houses down, another house had its lights on still. It was the house where Raymond Gibson—and Lucas, depending on who you asked—lived.

  Lucas sat in the recliner where Raymond had left him during the day. His smile painted on his face, his hair still combed perfectly, his striped shirt and jean shorts wrinkle-free. Raymond had put the jacket away in his closet when they returned from the new neighbor’s home. Lucas didn’t need it anyway; the cold didn’t really affect him.

  Raymond had peeked through his blinds to watch the two children walk up the street. He’d come downstairs for a glass of water when he noticed them from his living room window. To his surprise and relief, he’d recognized them both. The new neighbor’s boy, and the Bobkin girl from across the street.

  He’d watched them, an idea taking form in his head.

  “Lucas, what do you say we take a late-night stroll?”

  “Yes, Father. That sounds great. It was getting a little stuffy in this living room.”

  Raymond picked him up, and nodded. “Yes, yes. Let’s get a little fresh air. And make you some friends in the neighborhood.”

  “Friends? That sounds like a splendid idea, Father.”

  Once the ice broke with their little bet, Gina and Jack found they had too much to talk about to even worry about going to sleep. It was one of those late-night conversations you have with someone that takes the friendship to the next level, where you’re understanding the other person more than you ever could have understood them because it feels like at this hour of the night, you two are the only ones on the planet.

  It was something Jack had never experienced before.

  “You said your mom works late nights?” Jack asked.

  Gina nodded. “Yeah, she cleans at a hotel, so their hours are crazy.”

  “Must be rough.”

  “She has to do what she has to do to get us by.”

  “Your dad helps out, though, right?”

  “Never met my dad.”

  “Never met—?” he saw Gina’s face flush red and stopped himself. “Oh, I see.”

  She laughed to try to lighten the mood. “No, go ahead, say what you were going to. It’s weird, right, not knowing who one of your parents is?”

  “Yeah, kind of. I guess,” Jack said. His eyes dropped down to the ground. Here he thought he had it rough because his parents were divorced. At the very least, both of his parents were a part of his life.

  Gina didn’t let it derail the conversation. “I’ve never asked my mom about him. I figure she’ll tell me about him when I’m older. Maybe when I learn to drive or something.”

  “What would you do if you met him?”

  Gina bit the inside of her cheek. She’d asked herself that same question dozens of times before. “Probably kick his ass for missing out on all my birthdays.”

  They both laughed at that, but Jack saw a semblance of real pain under the shadows in her eyes. In that brief moment, the tough girl exterior she put on in front of the others today at the park disappeared completely.

  He wanted to hug her, but he knew she’d probably punch him in the stomach if he tried anything like that.

  “It’s kind of weird, though,” she continued when he didn’t say anything. “Like for my identity or whatever. I can look in the mirror, and see my mom’s features. But then there are parts to my face—like my pointy chin or my high cheek bones—that my mom doesn’t have. And sometimes I wonder if I got those from my dad the mystery man. But I have no idea, because I don’t know what he looks like. Oh, God, let me shut up. I’m probably boring you, huh City Boy?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not at all. I kinda like listening to you talk.”

  The tire turned her around just in time to hide her surprise at his honest answer. “Well. Anya’s my half-sister, if you’re wondering—though she’ll always be my real sister to me. Her dad split when my mom got pregnant with her. She never met her dad, either
.” Gina smirked, but the hurt in her voice didn’t go away. “Guess my mom has a type, huh?”

  Jack forced a chuckle.

  “You must think it’s all pretty weird,” she said.

  Jack shook his head again. “No, not really. Because my family stuff is weird for me, too.”

  “Why? Because your parents are divorced? That happens, you know, as rare as it might be.”

  “Yeah, but it’s hard not to feel like a bother no matter where I am. When the three of us lived together, I would feel like I was coming to a home with a mom and a dad waiting for me. Now, I feel like a link between two worlds that don’t want anything to do with each other. It’s like… Like I’m the problem.”

  Gina kicked back on the tire swing to build a little bit of momentum on it, and changed the subject to lighten the mood. “You got friends in Philadelphia?”

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “From my school.”

  “Well, think of it like this, City Boy, now you have two sets of friends.” Gina stuck her hand out for him to slap it as the momentum of the swing brought her forward. Jack obliged.

  “Thanks.” He said.

  “It was fun riding bikes in the park today. Usually it would just be me and Twist or Twist hanging out with Victor.”

  “What about Tommy?”

  Her smirk deepened. “Marino used to hang out in the neighborhood with Twist about two or three years ago, but ever since he turned fifteen he’s not around that much.”

  “Oh,” Jack said.

  “In a way, I guess you connected all of us today, right?” Gina said, still trying to make him feel better.

  “I guess you’re right.” Jack smiled. It made sense to him, but maybe that had something to do with it being nearly four in the morning and his brain needing sleep.

  “You play video games?” Gina asked abruptly.

  “Of course. I have a Nintendo Sixty-four and a Genesis back at my mom’s. And my mom just got me a Gameboy with Pokémon Blue. What about you? What do you have?”