Fif15teen

by Nik Davies

  Chapter 2

  Law 31

  Please Not the Devil With Idle Hands

  Akeem woke to the smell of bacon under his nose. He was starving, and his stomach grumbled and rolled. He snatched the bacon from Quinn’s hand and ate it without opening his eyes. His shoulders and neck ached, and he was cold and cramped. The basement was always chilly, but he was colder than usual. He looked down to find Quinn’s little sister curled up next to him. Apparently, she had stolen his pillow and blanket sometime in the wee hours of the morning. He looked up pleadingly at Quinn, who huffed before picking up her sister and plopping her down into the vacant chair. The little girl never budged.

  “Why doesn’t she ever sleep with you?” he asked.

  “She chooses life,” she quipped, and Akeem chuckled. “Besides, she trusts you. She knows you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “Untrue; I murdered two innocent flies in cold blood just yesterday,” he mumbled. As he got up from the couch, a wave of dizziness washed over him and he sat back down. “Uhnn,” he moaned as he held his pounding head. There were hands in his face again, this time holding aspirin and a warm, half-filled can of soda. He took three of the pills and swallowed them without comment. Quinn shoved the rest in her pocket.

  She slid open her cell phone and glanced at the time. “What time you leaving?” she asked. He shrugged, knowing she wouldn’t tell him to go. She never did. But she never asked him to stay either. He just came and went, and she was cool with it. The situation was enhanced by the fact that her parents never stepped foot in the basement. “I’ve got Aly today,” she said, nodding toward her sleeping sister.

  “I could chill for a while,” he offered.

  “Whatever.” Quinn shrugged before heading upstairs for more bacon. Although she would never admit it, he thought she liked having him around, especially on days when she had to watch her little sister. He glanced over at the little girl and grinned. It was like looking at a miniature Quinn without frown lines. She murmured in her sleep, and he smiled wider. He had no siblings of his own, but if he could have one, he’d ask for one just like Aly. She was sweet, kind, and incredibly thoughtful. At eight years old, she was too small and fragile for her age and this made Akeem especially protective of her. Anything she asked of him he did, and she loved him wholeheartedly for it. It just wasn’t in him to refuse her. And as a result, he showed her more attention than anyone else in her life, including her own sister. Aly always joked that he was a better fake brother than Quinn was a real sister. Quinn never disagreed.

  Quinn returned with more bacon and a plate loaded with buttered toast. They munched silently, played muted video games, and got lost in their own thoughts until Aly woke up and convinced them, like only she could, to take her to the park.

  It was a sweltering day. The normally busy streets were empty and silent. Aly was sweaty and disappointed when she reached the playground and discovered it deserted. She made a half-hearted attempt at playing with Akeem, but after burning her hands on the hot chains of a swing and scorching her legs on the slide, she gave up.

  Quinn was sitting on the curb with her feet in the street, hoarding the only patch of shade for miles, when Aly plopped in her lap. Akeem sat next to her and accidently brushed her thigh, causing his heart to race. He jerked his leg away before she had a chance to notice. They sat for a while, too hot to move, damp clothes clinging to their skin, watching the heat rise in waves and ripples off the steaming blacktop.

  “I’ve never seen the city so empty. It’s like they’re all dead, and we’re the only ones left,” Akeem mumbled. At the end of the block, a lonely hydrant sprayed water into the street as though wishing there were children to play in its lukewarm spray. There were no moving cars, no people, no wind, just heat and the sound of their own shallow breathing.

  Quinn sighed. “This officially sucks.” Just then they heard a shopping cart rattle across the pavement and the shuffling of weary feet. “It’s Crazy Annie.”

  “Shh, don’t call her that,” Akeem whispered.

  “Why not, she is crazy. You’d have to be crazy to wear every single piece of clothing you own in this heat. How many hats does she have on? And wouldn’t it be easier to push the cart instead of pulling it behind her like that?” Quinn asked, but she had noticeably lowered her voice as the woman waddled closer.

  “It’s like she’s searching for something. She never takes her eyes off the ground, just walks up and down our block all day and all night mumbling. I don’t think she sleeps. It’s sad,” Akeem said as they watched the woman amble in their direction. She walked down the middle of the street as if willing her feet to continue their weary march. Her mousy brown hair hung in wispy strands under the four hats on her head. The topmost hat was a filthy New York Yankees baseball cap, the one under was a Panama hat with its ribbon covered in marijuana leaves. A classic blue bonnet sat under that and hid the top of a wide-brimmed sun hat that flopped over, covering most of her face. The bonnet strings were tied tightly under Crazy Annie’s chin in a hideous bow.

  “Never feel bad for people like that, Akeem. She’s probably a drunk or a crackhead that smoked her life away. Who knows, maybe she tickles little kids where they shouldn’t be tickled.”

  “Damn, Q, that’s harsh!” Akeem said as Aly gasped.

  “Ooohh, you said a bad word, Keemi,” she scolded.

  “Sorry, Aly,” he crooned, then squeezed her nose until she giggled.

  Quinn rolled her eyes before continuing. “It wasn’t an accident that turned her into what she is. I bet she did it to herself.” The anger behind her words was nearly palpable. Akeem stared down at her profile, curious to know what could have made her so bitter. Who had done this to her? Sometimes it seemed small bits of her guarded heart were blackened with hatred. She detested her parents on a level that bordered on unnatural. Her parents were oblivious to the fact, which made her hate them even more. Unfortunately, her animosity and anger bubbled up and spilled over, wreaking havoc on an unsuspecting world.

  He couldn’t understand why she hated them so much. They never laid a finger on her or Aly. They gave the girls their space along with virtually anything they asked for. He would trade his mother for them in an instant. But then again, he’d trade his mother for Crazy Annie, so his opinion probably didn’t count. He desperately wanted to ask her why she hated them so much, but she wasn’t one for questions. She wasn’t one for answers either, and as he thought about it, she wasn’t one for conversation in general. She hated her parents in bitter silence. He would probably never understand why, but whenever something bothered Quinn, it bothered him. He wanted her to be happy and he wanted to be the one to make her happy, but he just didn’t know how. He was following the angles of her face with his eyes when she glanced up at him. He turned his head so quickly, it almost snapped off.

  “She’s filthy,” Quinn whispered, her nose wrinkling in disgust. To their surprise, the woman stopped. All conversation ceased as she slowly turned her head toward them. Her toothless, puckered mouth moved soundlessly as she raised a weathered hand and gradually lifted the flap of her wilted sun hat. If the world was quiet before, it was completely mute now. Even the sidewalk stopped sizzling.

  Aly tried to sink deeper into Quinn’s lap. “She’s scary,” Aly whispered. Unconsciously, Quinn hugged the tiny girl a bit tighter.

  The old woman’s eyes found their faces. Aly squeaked in fright, jumped into Akeem’s lap, and buried her face in his shoulder. The air grew thicker and crackled with an energy that made their skin itch. The woman glared at them through eyes so yellowed and bloodshot they resembled bloody egg yolks. Quinn reached for Akeem’s hand just as he was reaching for hers. Their fingers locked together tightly.

  They gazed back at the old woman, too afraid to move. She stared appraisingly at Akeem, and then with equal consideration at Quinn. She never spared the slightest glance at Aly. After a long awkward silence, she nodded her head as if answering a question she alone could hear. Her hand
lowered and the hat flopped back over her eyes. Her head creaked back toward the ground again and she hobbled on. Quinn yanked her hand from Akeem’s and wiped her sweaty palm on her shorts.

  “Oh my god, what a freak!” she said when the woman was far enough away not to hear.

  “She scared the crap out of me,” Akeem said, holding Aly against his racing heart. The tiny girl clutched him tightly, digging her small fingers into his arm. They watched the old woman walk on, pulling her cart behind her, until she was far down the block. Just before she turned a corner and disappeared out of sight, something fell from the back of her cart. She walked on without notice.

  “She dropped something,” Quinn stated. They squinted into the distance. Something twinkled like a beacon in the blistering sun. “Come on! Let’s go see what it is.”