by Shade, S. M.
Trey shakes his head. “Sitting over there eating a sandwich with Bread brand bread and a side of faux-ritos.” He nods to the corn chips on Denton’s plate.
“Like there’s anything you won’t eat,” Denton scoffs.
Trey glances at the clock and grabs his keys. “I’m going to be late for work. I’m closing tonight if you guys want to stop by for some food.”
“I’ve got to run too. I have a client scheduled. Are you working today?” I ask Becca.
“I’ll be in at five.” She gives Denton a sideways glance that makes it clear what plans they have when I leave. I scoop up my sketchbook and get out of their way.
Elijah grins at me from his workstation when I enter Dreams In Ink. He’s leaned over a guy’s leg, working on his calf. “Hey girl. Your twelve o’clock called. They need to reschedule. Message is by the phone.”
“Thanks.” That gives me a couple of spare hours to work on some drawings, so I’m not disappointed at the schedule change. I love my job. And as much as I love putting ink to skin, chilling out to my favorite music while I draw is a close second.
That’s how I spend the next hour until we get a couple of college girls who want matching sunflower tattoos. The glance exchanged between the girls when Elijah motions to one to come to his chair makes me laugh to myself. The poor girl who got stuck with me instead of the hot, inked up guy now working on her friend tries to hide her disappointment as she takes a seat.
I can’t blame her. If that wild, dark hair isn’t enough to attract any woman’s admiration, those lips certainly are. He always keeps things professional when it comes to clients, but the smirk he gives me makes me shake my head. Arrogant ass knows the score.
It’s an easy drawing, and both women do fine while we tattoo their ankles. We finish up, and both leave satisfied and excited.
“Becca invited me to her neighborhood Thanksgiving thing,” Elijah says, cleaning up his area.
“Yeah, me too. I guess there will be quite a few people. Are you going?”
Turning around, he leans his hip against the counter. “Yes, I didn’t really have anything planned. If you’re going as well, Becca said she’ll just close the shop Wednesday and Thursday.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Elijah flips his hair back out of his eyes. “Any suggestions of what I should bring? Becca said not to worry about it, there will be plenty of food, but I don’t want to show up empty handed.”
“How about alcohol? Can’t go wrong there.”
“Good idea. I’ll stop and grab some wine.”
Laughing, I glance toward the door as Becca enters to start her shift. “You’ve never been to a Violent Circle gathering, have you? Not wine. Beer or the hard stuff. Trust me.”
“My kind of dinner.”
* * *
We’re gifted with a late warm front the day of our communal Thanksgiving dinner. It’s being held the day before Thanksgiving so the neighbors who actually prefer to eat with family can still attend. Not everyone on the circle shows up, but there’s a good turnout.
It’s my first time in the brick building that sits in the center of Violent Circle, just outside the playground. Becca shows me around, not that it’s all that huge. A portion of the building is taken up by a laundry room with a few rickety washers and dryers, but there’s a large multipurpose room dotted with tables and chairs.
“They hold GED classes and stuff here sometimes,” Becca explains, as I help her spread out the tablecloths. Most people are hanging out in the sunshine outside, chatting and laughing as the kids run around them.
Random people, a few of whom I’ve met, begin to show up, place the food dish they’ve brought on the table, and head back outside.
A man enters with a teenage girl. Damn, what is it about hot guys and these apartments? “Hi, should I just put this anywhere?” he asks, nodding to the pie plate in his hand.
“Yes, wherever you find a spot. You must be the new tenants from two thirty-three?” Becca guesses.
He smiles and sticks out his hand. “That’s right. I’m Gavin and this is my niece, Penny.”
Penny looks like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now, but she forces a small smile and mumbles, “Nice to meet you.”
After we exchange greetings, he asks, “Do you do this every year?”
Jani and Noble walk in, followed by Elijah and Barney. They all shuffle to set their prepared food on the table.
“This is the first time,” Becca replies.
“But we do throw a lot of parties,” Noble adds with a grin. Introductions bounce around the room until it gets to Barney, who seems a little more sober than usual.
“I’m Barry, but everyone calls me Barney. It’s my nickname.” Pride rings in his voice.
Penny blinks and speaks up. “After the dinosaur?”
“Nah.” He tilts his head. “After Barney on The Simpsons because I favor him, see?” He turns his head giving her a better look at his profile. The man looks absolutely nothing like Barney, but Penny has the good grace to smile and nod through her confusion. Barney doesn’t pay much attention anyway once his eyes land on the cases of beer in Elijah’s arms.
“Let me help with those,” he volunteers, grabbing the top case and following Elijah to the table in the back of the room where the coolers wait.
Mitch, one of the older men who lives on the opposite end of the circle, enters pushing Vera, the oldest resident, in her wheelchair. No one actually knows how old Vera is because she always gives a different number if asked. She holds a large, covered pot on a towel on her lap.
“Can I get that for you?” Gavin offers.
“Yes, young man, please do. It’s cooking my crotch and I don’t have as much padding down there as I used to.”
Becca and Jani burst into laughter at the expression on his face, and Becca beams down at her. “Ms. Vera, are you going to behave yourself today?”
Vera grins back up at her. “I’m not kidding! You wait and see when you get old. It puckers up like a grapefruit left in the sun.”
Noble chokes back a laugh. “Uh…beer and basketball?” he suggests, and all the guys are only too happy to grab a beer, then follow him outside. Penny trails along behind them and the door has barely closed when Vera speaks up again.
“He’s a nice young man. Gayer than a box of birds, but nice.”
“Vera,” Jani snorts, trying to organize the food.
“He is! Told me so himself! He had to move here because he broke up with his fella.”
Becca sits in the chair beside her wheelchair. “Really? Do you know why his niece lives with him?”
I swear Violent Circle is the gossipiest place I’ve ever seen. “He just said her mama fell on hard times.”
A boy of about eight rushes in carrying a box of dinner rolls almost as large as him. His younger brother follows him, arguing. “It’s not fair though. Snakes like Thanksgiving too, you know.”
“You can’t bring Slithers. Mom said so.”
His little pout is adorable. “Hi, I’m Sasha. You have a pet snake?” I ask, kneeling down to talk to him while his brother puts the box on the table.
His lips lift in a cautious smile. “Uh-huh. His name is Slithers. He’s thiiiis big!” He holds his arms wide apart. “He eats mice! I have a box of them at home. They’re white. Have you ever seen a white mouse?”
His enthusiasm is hilarious. I love how passionate kids are when they talk about their favorite things. “I’ve seen them through glass in the pet store.”
“Yeah, they don’t let you touch them. I can hold mine. They don’t even bite.”
A woman pokes her head through the door. “Brian, Dillon, I told you to drop off the box and come back outside!” she orders.
“Dillon had to tell his life story first,” Brian says, rolling his eyes. He grabs his brother’s hand and drags him toward the door.
“Bye Sasha!” Dillon calls.
Their mother gives us a tired smile and esco
rts them back outside. “I haven’t met her before,” I mention to Becca.
“That’s Yvonne. She keeps to herself, mostly. I probably would too if I had four kids under nine to chase after.”
Yikes. I want kids someday, but not that many.
Jani looks out the window. “Oh hell. Someone brought a keg. It’s Thanksgiving, not New Year’s.”
You can’t tell that to the Violent Circle bunch though. It’s a good thing they thought of hooking a couple of microwaves up, because only a few of the older people actually eat early. The rest are getting smashed, playing basketball, even playing with the kids on the playground. A few kids build a bicycle ramp and the younger kids are upset that they can’t join in. Denton, Noble, and Trey step in and take them down the street a bit to the grassy hill.
Jani, Becca, and I watch them go from our spot on the picnic table. I have a buzz and I’m sure they do too. Jani gestures to them. “Do you want to go see what those idiots are up to?”
“Let’s go,” I agree, trying not to sound too eager. Trey looks so good today, with his dark jeans and navy sweatshirt that stretches across that wide chest. It’s a really comfortable place to lay my head and then maybe lick down until…okay, the alcohol is making me horny. Anyway, I haven’t got to say more than two words to him all day, so I’m happy to go see what they’re up to.
The younger kids have an array of kiddie ride-on toys and two Power Wheels Jeeps that have seen better days. Trey grins at me as we walk up. They’ve taken the kids about halfway up the hill, stopping before the steepest part of the slope, and now laughter and squeals of excitement fill the air as the kids hurtle down the hill on the toys.
With giant smiles, they jump off at the bottom and drag the toys back up. Noble helps with the two Jeeps. “That’s probably going to ruin the Power Wheels,” Becca cautions.
One of the boys grins up at her. “Mom said it was okay cause they’re broken. She’s going to set them out for trash this week.”
No worries there, then.
“Hey Bex, want to ride?” Denton calls from the bottom of the hill.
She scratches her nose with her middle finger. “He knows I ate a mouthful of mud last time. Asshole,” she murmurs to me.
“I remember. That night was so fun.”
“Trey! You go!” one of the boys insists, shoving the Jeep toward him.
“Yeah, you guys race!” another kid shouts, pointing to Denton.
Trey grins at Denton and they begin walking the two Jeeps up the hill to the very top.
Becca glances at me. “This isn’t going to end well.”
Pulling out my phone, I wave it. “Video?”
“Definitely.”
Denton looks silly, but Trey’s tall, bulky body squeezed into the Jeep is hilarious. It looks like he can’t actually fit inside it so he’s sitting on the back of the little plastic seat.
We gather at the bottom of the hill, far to one side, with the kids. I watch as Trey gestures to one part of the hill, but I can’t hear what he’s saying to Denton. Noble chuckles behind us. “He’s going to try to hit that bump. Catch some air.”
He wouldn’t. He can’t be that stupid. Just because they’re on soft ground doesn’t mean he couldn’t break his neck.
Before Becca or I can protest, they launch themselves down the hill. You’d think two grown men would realize that the fact they’re heavier than the kids would be a factor. Denton makes it about halfway before the wheel catches on something and it rolls, chucking him off.
Trey makes it farther.
All the way to the natural ramp that does indeed let him “catch air.” I’m amazed he keeps the Jeep beneath him the whole time, but the landing is as opposite from smooth as you can get.
He comes down hard and the Jeep disintegrates beneath him. Plastic shoots out in all directions and he ends up on the ground, surrounded by brightly colored shrapnel. The kids cheer and laugh, but fear rattles through me when he just sits there for a moment, then holds a hand over his mouth.
Becca and I share a worried glance, and I lower my phone. “Keep the kids back,” I murmur, rushing up the hill with Noble beside me.
“Dude! I can’t believe you did that. Are you okay?” Noble asks.
Trey glances between us and nods, wincing as he gets to his feet. Turning his head, he spits out a mouthful of blood.
“No, you’re not! What happened?” I ask.
“I’m okay. I just bit my tongue.”
“Let me see,” I insist, and he spits again.
When Noble also asks, he sticks out his tongue. I’m relieved to see it’s not as bad as I thought, but it’s still bleeding. “Come on, you idiot.” He chuckles when I grab his hand and pull him toward his apartment. “You need to rinse with some salt water or mouthwash.” At least he doesn’t need stitches. He’s essentially pierced his tongue with an incisor, and I’ve seen enough tongue piercings to know it’ll heal.
Noble heads back down the hill toward Denton, who seems fine. As soon as he’s gone, Trey pauses and then takes a few cautious steps. “Slow down,” he pleads, and I stop tugging on his hand.
“What is it? Did you hurt your legs?” As hard as he hit, it’s a wonder he didn’t snap an ankle at least.
“Uh, no.” His next words are reluctant. “My ass. I landed on my tailbone.” A little smirk rests on his lips. “Don’t tell the guys. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Do you want to go to the hospital? Do you think you broke it?”
“Nah, I’ll be okay.”
The apartment is empty when we enter, and Trey stands in the bathroom as I hunt through the medicine cabinet. “What’s wrong with my mouthwash?” he asks.
“It doesn’t have alcohol in it. You need the strong stuff to disinfect the hole.”
He spits a smaller amount of blood into the sink, then sticks out his tongue, examining it in the mirror. “I bit all the way through,” he remarks, and I roll my eyes at the satisfaction in his voice. Men, I swear.
“Yeah, it’s a real proud moment. Here.” I hand him a capful of Listerine I find under the sink. “Swish it around for about thirty seconds and make sure it gets under your tongue too.”
“Mmm!” His eyes bug, then start to water as he tosses it in his mouth.
“Thirty seconds!” I insist when he leans over the sink.
When he finally spits it out, it’s with a curse. “Fuck! You could’ve told me it was going to burn like battery acid!”
“I said it had alcohol in it. What did you expect?” I giggle, and his lip curls up.
“I’m glad my pain amuses you.”
“Your pain doesn’t amuse me. Your stupidity does. Did you really think that kiddie car was going to survive you?” Without thinking about it, I put my hands on his sides.
He looks down at me, and I have the worst urge to kiss those smirking lips. “Are you calling me fat, Sasha?” He slides his arms around my waist.
“Never.” My hands travel up to his expansive chest. “I love how broad your chest is.” I continue my exploration, running my palms over his shoulders to his back. “And your shoulders, your back,” I murmur, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
A loud bang on the door makes me jump back just in time as Denton charges on in.
Trey glares at him. “Damn it, Dent! You ever heard of knocking? I could’ve been naked or something.”
Denton’s eyebrows go up, and he nods at me. “I knew Sasha was in here.” A mischievous grin blooms on his face. “Unless you’re saying you could’ve both been naked, in which case I apologize.”
“Don’t be stupid. I was helping him.”
“Inspecting his tongue?” The grin widens, and I want to smack him. He makes it sound so dirty.
“Yes, he bit through it.”
“But I’m fine,” Trey adds. “I’ll be over to eat after I change my shirt.”
I don’t want to leave Trey, but Denton is already suspicious, so I accompany him back outside. When Trey catches up with us a
few minutes later, I pull him aside. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know, your ass and all?”
“I’ll be fine. I took some ibuprofen, and the beer isn’t going to hurt.” He flashes me a smile before chugging the can in his hand.
Jani and Becca walk up. “I think everyone who is going to show up is here. We’re going to go eat. Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” I agree.
A terrified cry interrupts the conversation and all heads whip around to where the older kids have set up the bike ramp. Everyone rushes over and a sharp feeling pierces me when I see Brian lying on the pavement, his arm cocked at a strange angle.
The shout came from his mother, not him, and she hovers over him. “Don’t move, baby. Stay still.”
“It hurts,” he sobs.
“Call an ambulance,” Trey tells Denton, then pushes through the small crowd. He sits on the ground next to Brian. His voice is reassuring as he talks to him.
Brian’s siblings are crowded around, crying and pulling at their mother as well, and it’s clear she’s overwhelmed. Dillon’s frightened gaze meets mine and I know there’s one way I can help. Jani follows suit and we both join Yvonne and the kids.
“Dillon, hey, you remember me?” I ask, and he nods, wiping his eyes.
“Sasha. You like snakes.”
“That’s right. Brian is going to be okay.” I smile at the boy beside him who is maybe six. “What’s your name?”
“Pete.” His little face is serious. “You’re supposed to call nine one one for an emergency.”
“You’re absolutely right. Someone has already called and an ambulance is coming. The doctors are coming to help him, but we need to get out of their way. Will you come with me and Dillon over to the park so your mom can stay with him?”
“Okay.” When Dillon sees Pete take my hand, he does the same.
Jani reaches to take the screaming baby from Yvonne’s hip. Yvonne looks up, seeming to realize for the first time she’s going to have to go with the ambulance or send her kid alone because she can’t drag three others along.
She needs help.
“I’ll take care of her,” Jani promises, holding the baby close. “You have my phone number.”