Chapter Nine
Cassius
I drive past the trailer, swerving to the left and almost hitting a couple of garbage cans to avoid a cat.
“Damn Oreo,” Chrissy mutters.
“Oreo?” Cammy asks, looking into the back seat. “Is he new?”
“He is a she, and no. Oreo has been around for a few months.”
Chrissy is always trying to take care of the stray animals. I hate it and love it.
Love it because I love how sweet she is and that she cares about animals, even when she has practically nothing herself.
Hate it because I know what it's like to feel compelled to care for something because no one took care of you.
Cammy and I try our best to care for Chrissy, so she doesn’t end up the way we did.
We promised each other that when she was first born, though at five, I doubt Cammy had any idea what she was actually promising.
But we’ve talked about it over the years.
It’s our job to take care of Chrissy and make sure she has the best life…
as best as we can make it. Better than ours, at least.
“Where are you going?” Cammy asks.
“I can’t park this in front of the trailer with Mom home.”
It’s a good thing I saw her through the windows before pulling up.
“And you think she didn’t see us swerve around the trailer?”
“These windows are tinted. There’s no way she saw us in here.”
Cammy rolls her eyes and goes back to looking out the window as I make the turn down the dirt road that leads to Abe’s. He lives on the dead end part of the road, so there should be plenty of space to park this thing.
Thankfully I spot his truck, and park on the side of his trailer toward the woods and out of the way.
“Wait here,” I say as I hop out, leaving the car to run. Hurrying up the steps, I pull open the screen door and knock.
Abe pulls it open, shirtless and with a grin on his face while chewing something.
“You know, I was just thinking about you.”
“Can I park my car here?”
His brow furrows. “Huh?”
“I can’t explain right now, I swear I’ll come by later. For now, can I leave this here?” I gesture to where the car is.
Abe steps out, shoving by me to walk to the end of the porch and look at it. He whistles.
“Wow. Whose dick did you suck for that thing?”
“Abe!”
“Okay, fine. Later. Got it. Sure, whatever. Jesus.”
He goes back inside, closing the door in my face.
I shut the car off and we get out to walk back to the trailer.
The door is hanging off the hinges when we get there.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Mom screeches when we all walk inside.
“Getting Chrissy from the bus.”
“She’s sixteen years old. She damn well can do that herself.”
“She’s fourteen,” I growl, causing Cammy to swipe at me. She hates it when I rile Mom up, but I’ve been dealing with her the longest and my patience is gone. I don’t want to be nice to her, at all, ever, no matter what. How the fuck do you not know how old your kid is?
“Don’t tell me how old my fucking kid is, you little prick. Now make yourself useful and fix that damn door.”
She points at it, a cigarette between her fingers. Funny how she always has money to get herself cigarettes but never to get us food or the shit we need.
I say us, but I mean Chrissy.
Cammy and I are old enough to be on our own, and we have to keep this fragile balance with our mother, so she doesn’t kick us out…
or rather, call the cops and get us removed.
The only reason she lets us stay here is because we contribute.
She doesn’t have to worry about buying the food and paying the bills. It’s easier for her.
So yeah, I get contributing because I’m an adult, and I don’t expect my mother to take care of me, but she should be taking care of Chrissy. And it’s been this way my whole life. I’ve always fended for myself, so maybe I’m a little mad about it.
“Right away, ma’am,” I mutter sarcastically.
“What was that? You ungrateful prick, you better not be mouthin’ off to me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I grab the rusty tool box from under the sink. It’s a bunch of mix-match pieces from different sets we’ve found or accumulated over the years.
I dig through it, looking for screws, but there are none left.
Hopefully the one that fell out of the frame is around somewhere.
I search the floor and find it sticking out from under the couch Mom is sitting on, staring at the wall while she smokes her cigarette.
She looks like she could have been beautiful once upon a time, but years of smoking and drugs and drinking made her skin wrinkly and aged.
Her hair is wiry, though I vaguely remember her having soft, smooth hair like the rest of us.
Her lips are thin, eyes sunken in. It’s a shame.
I want to love my mother, but when I look at her, all I feel is disgust and hatred.
I take the screw driver and the screw, then right the door and shove the screw back in.
Problem is that this thing is barely hanging on.
What I need is wood filler and more screws.
The holes are stripped from years of doing this over and over again, that it’ll maybe hang on for another week before I’m fixing it again, but it’s all we got.
I should go to the store and get what I need to fix it better, but this isn’t a priority.
I need to save what I have, in case Harmon changes his mind and it’s all the money I get.
It’s why I’m going to leave all the tags on the clothes too, in case I have to return them. At least, I’ll have the money.
As I fix the door, I open my mouth four times to ask about the insurance thing, but it’s better coming from Cammy.
Chrissy doesn’t talk to Mom at all, unless she’s spoken to.
Mostly they pretend they don’t know one another.
When I talk to her, it’s smart and cocky and I usually end up getting myself in trouble—and everyone else too—so I try to keep the conversations to a minimum.
Cammy deals with her the best. Somehow she keeps the attitude out of her voice and talks to her like she cares.
I swear she’d be an amazing cop. She’d be the nice cop and interrogate people and get them to tell her everything.
So, our best bet is for me to fix this door, play nice, and let Cammy come out here and ask her about it.
The door is as sturdy as it’ll be for now, so I clean up my mess and go into the bedroom. I gesture for Cammy to go out there and do her thing.
I don’t know what Mom is doing, she doesn’t usually hang around and do nothing. If she’s here, it’s because she’s looking for something or needs something from us, but usually she comes out and asks us for money if that’s what she’s looking for.
Cammy hops off her bed and walks into the leaving room.
“Hey, Mom,” she says happily.
She doesn’t get a response.
I hear the fridge door open and shut.
“Oh, hey, did you get the insurance forms?”
“Huh? What the hell are you going on about?” Mom rasps out before going into a coughing fit.
“The pharmacy said the insurance was canceled. I didn’t know if you got the form or if it got lost in the mail.”
“You think I wouldn’t fill that out if I got it? Fucking bullshit. I have a doctor’s appointment next week! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters. I hear footsteps pound across the floor. “I’m going over to Eddie’s.”
I flinch as the door slams behind her, waiting for it to fall off again. It doesn’t, thankfully.
Eddie lives in the trailer park at the far back.
He and Mom are fuck buddies which is gross to even think about, but she doesn’t hide it from any of us.
A lot of the time when she isn’t here, she’s over there—not that we go looking for her because who the fuck cares. It’d be better if she stayed there.
“Maybe she’ll take care of it now,” Cammy says.
“Yeah, maybe,” I mutter.
“So,” Chrissy starts. “Where’d you get the car?”
“I told you. It’s a perk of my new job.”
“What new job?”
“I’m an assistant to some fancy CEO guy.”
Another lie. Another lie. Another fucking lie.
“No way. How did you get that job?”
“Excuse you,” I say. “I’m very qualified for the job.”
“Mhmm,” Chrissy says, then goes back to doing her homework.
Cammy is stifling her laugh from the top bunk. I get to my feet. “Are you two good? I have to go over to Abe’s and explain what’s going on before he tries to steal the car and take it for a joy ride.”
“We will be fine. Although…” Cammy says.
“What?”
“Pizza for dinner would be nice.” She grins.
“Pizza!” Chrissy shouts in a silly, growly voice.
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Bye, big bro!” Chrissy calls after me when I leave. I’m careful with the door. I will fix it better next week, when I get my first, big pay check, but it’ll be fine for now. It’s been like this for years. It can’t get worse.
I make my way through the park, passing way too many stray cats—each of which has a name from Chrissy—piles of junk, and shouting tenants.
I fucking hate this place.
Abe opens the door before I even make it to the porch.
“You watching me from the window?” I ask.
“Yep,” he comments, stepping aside to let me in. I hurry up the porch steps and go inside.
Most of these trailers are set up the same way, some are wider or longer than others, but it’s all the same basic layout.
Abe’s is in better condition than ours, since it’s newer and he and his father aren’t pieces of shit.
Just so happens that his father was injured at work, was denied compensation for it, and now he’s on disability and they can’t afford much.
Abe works, but it’s expensive as fuck to live out here.
They probably should have moved further away from the city and they’d be better off.
“Spill,” Abe says as soon as I step over the threshold.
“Wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
The door is closed, and he drops onto the couch. Across from him, a small flat screen TV sits on an entertainment center, some reality show playing on low volume.
Abe is fancy enough to have cable and internet.
I drop onto the couch beside him. Abe sniffs, then leans close.
“Ugh, you smell like cigarettes.”
“Yeah, the witch is in.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding like he means it. “But how about you tell me what’s going on with that fancy car out there.” I stare at him. “We can do it now, or you can take me for a ride in it.” He sidles up next to me, batting his lashes.
I shove him off and laugh. “A ride would be nice.”
“Fuck yes!” He hops to his feet and runs out the door.
We get into the car, and I navigate out of the park, turning down the road and just driving. Not having anywhere to go and no need to get back any time soon.
I’ve never felt so free.
Me and my friend, in a car that could take us anywhere. It’s tempting to just go, but I have my sisters anchoring me here. Maybe one day…
Abe messes with the radio, finding a station that’s playing pop music. Of course he knows the song and puts it a little too loud to sing along.
I’m so out of the loop of music and movies and TVs because we don’t have cable or electricity half the time for even a radio to work. Just the pile of DVDs that we watch over and over again. Chrissy has almost all the lines memorized.
After driving for a while, I finally get into the story, telling him as much as I can without breaking what was in the NDA.
It was very specific about the language to use and how to present what I’m doing.
There’s no way I can hide being gone for eight to ten hours a day, so there has to be a cover story about my job.
Abe isn’t happy with the little information he gets, wanting more, as he always does, but eventually he gives in and accepts it.
“You wanna come over for pizza?” I ask.
“You know I do.”
We stop at a pizza place in town. I order two larges, an order of fries, and a two-liter of soda. We take it back to my place, and we squeeze into the bedroom and eat like we’ve never had pizza before. I can’t remember the last time the trailer was filled with this much joy.