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The First Last Boy(22)

By:Sonya Weiss


     



 

As I listened to the lyrics of the song, the ache in me grew wider until  it became a chasm. I pressed my hand against my heart as if I could  touch the brokenness. How could I not have realized what Ryan meant to  me? Putting my head down on my knees, I fought to keep from crying. If I  had a red nose and puffy eyes when Mom saw me, she'd want to know what  happened and I'd have to make up something. She thought I'd spent the  night with Shelby and Brooklyn at Shelby's house.

Right after six, the front door opened and Mom and Creature came in. He  was grinning and his eyes were shining. Plucking out my earbuds, I said,  "You look excited, what's going on?"

"We saw a sign that the theater is having dollar shows this week. Mom said I could go tomorrow."

She would be at work. "I guess that means I'm taking you? Who says I want to be seen at the theater with you?"

He launched himself at me, throwing his arms around my neck in a tight squeeze. "Come on, Tana. Please, please, please?"

I pried his arms off of my neck. "If I do, you will have to obey my every command."

He settled on the seat beside me. "I always listen to you when we go to the theater."

"No, I mean before that. You have to clean your room. I mean really clean it."

He scowled. "I don't want to go to the theater that bad."

I laughed.

"I forgot salad dressing," Mom said with a long sigh. She picked up the  keys to my car from the table where I'd left them for her. "I'm using  yours. Mine wouldn't start when we headed home. I had to get a jump.  You'll have to take me to work tomorrow and then we'll figure out a way  to afford to get mine fixed. Go ahead and put the salad together while  I'm gone. I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Okay."

I tapped Creature on top of the head. "I have a great idea. Why don't you help me in the kitchen?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"If I have to clean my room, that's gonna take a while."

I laughed and then Creature leaned forward on the sofa, his gaze fixed  on the living room window, a puzzled expression on his face.  "Fireworks."

Fourth of July was still over a week away. There was no-then I heard it,  the scraping of metal on metal and tires as they screeched away from  the house. "Creature, get on the floor now and stay there." We didn't  often have gunshots in the neighborhood but there had been a couple of  times. Hoping I was wrong, I hurried to the door and peeked through the  window.

The front end of my car was rammed into the front of the neighbor's car  two houses down. Steam poured from beneath the hood. People were rushing  toward the accident.

"Stay here." I instructed at my brother and took off running in my bare  feet toward the car. She was a good driver. No, Mom was a great driver.  So careful. Please,please,please be okay. I need you. Mark needs you.

One of the neighbors grabbed my shoulders as I reached the crowd, trying  to prevent me from seeing. "Your mama's hurt. The ambulance is on the  way."

I wrested myself away from him and reached my mother. I started glaring  at the people gathered, demanding to know why they were all standing  around. Why weren't they helping her? I took Mom by the shoulders and  lifted her bowed head upward. I smoothed her hair away from her face and  froze. Blood seeped through her shirt near her shoulder. I put my hand  on the back of her head and wet stickiness oozed through my fingers. I  started screaming. I don't remember stopping.







RYAN



A few minutes before six, Juvante and I silently left Mama Leena's  house. My whole day was shitty because Tana had ordered me to stay away  from her. From her tone, it was clear she was done with me. As a result  of that, I was in no mood to put up with Rat's excuses. He was out of  time. He had to pay up so I could keep Chanos away from Tana. I knew  what would happen if that went down the wrong way.

We didn't run into much traffic on the way to the crack house so we made  good time. A group of teenagers in track suits were hanging out at the  park and watched us with sullen expressions as we passed. They were  hunched forward, as if the chip of poverty on their shoulders was a  heavy burden. An argument started in front of the liquor store and as we  passed the two men, they began punching each other.

Juvante adjusted his ball cap, making sure the bill faced backward. In  this neighborhood we had to be careful. Wearing a ball cap with the bill  slanted one way or the other could signify a gang affiliation the same  way certain colors did.

When I parked in front of the run down house, Juvante looked at the  overgrown yard and said, "You know I've got your back, but you need to  start packin' again."         

     



 

"I'm not returning to that life."

"Sometimes it chooses us and we don't get to stay away, you know that."  Juvante looked pensive for a second. "Some bad shit with Chanos."

"We'll get the money, we'll give it to him and it'll be finished." That was the way it had to work.

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of Clarke and Roman again just for the hell  of it." He opened the door and waited for me to walk around.

If it was possible, the stench from the house was ten times worse than  when we'd been here the Saturday before. The front door was shut all the  way. Juvante shoved it aside.

A handful of people sat around on the floor talking in quiet tones.  Subdued. The party atmosphere from last week was missing. A group of  candles flickered in a circle. I didn't see Rat.

"Shit," Juvante muttered, looking at me over his shoulder with a "now what?" expression.

"Where is he?" I asked the girl Rat had been with last week.

Her eyes were red-rimmed but she didn't look high. "He died about four this morning."

"Did he OD?" Juvante demanded.

She shook her head and the limp, greasy strands of her hair lifted and fell. "He was shot."

My blood ran cold. I knew. I fucking knew, but I asked anyway. "Who did it?"

Pointing to a shirtless fat guy in khaki shorts, she said, "He says Chanos."

"Hey!" I called out and the guy looked at me. "You saw Chanos hit Rat?"

He nodded and formed his fingers into the shape of a gun. "Boom and he  was down. I never saw so much blood, man. He was begging." The guy  swallowed. "And Chanos hit him again."

"He say anything?"

"He said, "Nobody fucks with me" and then he spit on him." The guy  swallowed, looking like he needed to puke. "They left him laying in the  middle of the road and the guy driving asked him if they were going  after Stana."

"Stana?" Juvante mouthed at me, raising his eyebrows.

Dark dread filled me. I grabbed the guy's arm and he winced. "Tana?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Shoving the guy away, I turned and ran from the house with Juvante on my  heels. I started begging every god I'd ever heard about to please let  her be okay. I dialed her number. No answer. Putting the phone on repeat  dial, I jumped into the Charger and we raced toward her house. In my  mind, I saw Tana in a house built of paper and Chanos standing outside  the structure blowing as hard as he could and I was the one who'd led  him straight to her.





Chapter Twelve

TANA



The clouds rolled in and the sky wept the rain softly at first and then  it ugly cried. The police came with their usual everyone's-guilty  swagger. Just the facts, ma'am. Did she have any enemies? Do you know  anyone who might do this? What did you see? The detective's lips moved,  but he wasn't making any sense. It was all white noise.

The first responders drove away, their sirens crying out into the  oncoming darkness as they carried my mother away from my brother and me.  The neighbors stood around speaking in hushed whispers, saying how the  neighborhood was going to hell.

The car door was still open and the rain blew in on the seats. "This one  needs a miracle," I'd heard one of the paramedics mutter as he'd worked  on my mother. I'd caught his eye as he'd run alongside the stretcher  and loaded it in the back of the ambulance. His eyes had held the  cynicism of one too many bad calls. I shook my head to clear it from  what I'd witnessed.

I had to get to my mom. She needed me. I had to get my car so I could  drive to the hospital. I pushed past the detective, past the yellow  tape, ignoring their orders to stop. I reached for the door of the car,  but a police officer stopped me. His face was carved with pity and his  voice gentle. "We have to take the car for evidence."

"But, I don't have another one. I need it." I tried to blink, to focus on his voice that came from a thousand miles away.

Then an afraid voice, a little voice on the teetering edge of hysteria,  called my name. My brother was in the middle of the street and the rain  plastered his hair flat on his head. "Where'd they take Mom?" He jammed  his fist into his mouth and looked beyond me to where the ambulance had  disappeared. His entire body shook.