Chapter 10 Jo
ten
Jo
"Jojo, wait up!" Mabel calls out from behind me, and my steps slow, waiting for her to catch up.
As her big sister, it's my job to make sure she stays safe. Who knew that two and half minutes would make such an impact on my responsibilities as a sibling?
I wiggle my bare toes in the grass as I hold my hand out for her to take.
Mabel's hair looks near white in the sunlight, her blue eyes shining with warmth.
Her fingers thread through mine with a blinding smile, and as we race through the orchard, I find myself not minding so much.
I'm better suited for the big sis role anyway.
I'm too stubborn and hard-headed for it to be any other way.
"Come on, Mabel-cakes," I call over my shoulder, "they were just up this way!"
The first ripe peaches of the season.
She laughs as I run, practically dragging her behind me.
When we finally find the tree, the ripe fruit hanging high up, we both squeal in glee.
My feet scramble for purchase on the bark, and if I hadn't been climbing trees the last six years of my life, it might've hurt. It also might have been more difficult with this pesky cast on my wrist. Lucky for me, I've been scaling Mrs. Humphries' peach trees since I was three years old.
"Climb up with me," I nearly beg, leaning down and reaching for her with my good arm.
She only gives me a slight shake of the head. "I'm not brave like you, Jojo. Will you toss me one down though?"
Instead of telling Mabel how wrong she is—that she's the bravest person I know, I grab two peaches and toss her one before hopping down myself. We settle on the grass, our backs against the tree trunk.
The late-May sun is high in the sky, the humidity near stifling. But there’s a gentle breeze, and peach juice dribbles down our chins as we giggle and talk about our plans for the summer.
Suddenly, Mabel frowns at me. "Don't…don't go askin' him 'bout gettin' a job again, Jojo. He won't like it."
I huff a breath. That's where my broken wrist came from.
Usually, if Daddy has a punishment for me, he takes me to the black walnut tree out back behind the trailer.
Probably because he knows Mabel will try to step in.
Last week though, I mentioned doing a paper route or something, and I didn't realize he was high as a kite. Cocaine.
"I promise you, Mabel. As soon as we turn eighteen, we're leavin'," I swear to her, my stomach twisting at the sight of her black eye.
It had been so easy to pretend it wasn't there before, within the shade of the orchard, but now the sun is setting, the warm light hitting it like a spotlight.
She tried to get in Daddy's way when he threw me into the coffee table, and now her pretty face is all ruined.
"What about Mama?" Mabel asks, her peach pit on the ground next to us. "I got this terrible feelin' Jojo…that next time he might finish the job."
I swallow, my throat dry. "We try to convince her to come with us. We…we can work in secret, I don't know. But we can't just sit by and be punchin' bags the rest of our lives, Mabel."
"I—" Her words are cut off by a loud bang, and our heads fly up. Hunting isn't unusual in these parts, but that came from the direction of home.
Now, Mabel and I may be twins, but we rarely have that twin voodoo thing going on where we sense things at the same time.
At this moment though? Our eyes meet, and I know the same thing is going through her head as it is mine.
We get to our feet, immediately taking off back through the orchard.
The only sound in the air is our heavy breathing as we race back home, hand-in-hand.
Mabel and I hop across the small creek that runs behind the trailer park, and my heart feels like it's going to drop out of my chest by the time we make it home.
The door of our trailer sits broken on its hinges, and I pull Mabel back when she tries to run inside. It's dark outside now, and the only light coming from the trailer is the blue light of the TV.
The trailer park is quiet, but I see our neighbor, Old Man Peterson, quickly shut the curtains of his window. Everyone heard the same thing we did, and maybe someone called the police. But in this neighborhood, nobody is going to come out and help you.
Mabel and I…we're on our own.
Mama is at work down at Johnson's Grocery and she's not off until late, so we can’t count on her either.
What if…what if someone finally came to collect on Daddy's debts? What if we’re free of him?
"Jo…" Mabel trails off, her eyes fixed on the door as her hand strangles mine.
"I know." I swallow, my eyes shifting to her. Maybe Daddy is out. Maybe he went to the bar, and…and…"I'll go check it out."
I try to take a step forward, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "Maybe we could run," she whispers, her eyes wide, "if it's Daddy in there, we can grab Mama and run. Make it look like—"
"And if it's not Daddy?" I hiss, shaking my head. "I need to know, Mabel. I can't leave here, not knowin' one way or the other."
Swallowing, she nods, unfurling her fingers from mine and taking a step back. My legs are shaky as I walk up the steps, and when I peek around the corner—
"Mama!" my voice chokes out, rushing to her side.
She's on the floor of the kitchen, red pooling beneath her, bags of groceries strewn everywhere as she struggles and gasps for breath.
"Mama what happened?" I choke out, and then I hear Mabel's choked sob behind me.
"Why are you home? You were supposed to be at work! "
"Jo? Baby?" Mama blinks up at me, her foggy eyes clearing slightly.
"I'm here, Mama. It's going to be okay." I try to hold my hands over her side where I can see the wound blooming red. A gunshot. "Mabel! Call 9-1-1!" She nods and disappears into the living room to grab the phone.
"No," Mama strains, "It's…it's too late for me. They…found…me. But…I need you…to listen. You don't…have much time…"
Her eyes flutter closed. "Mama, what? Have time for what?" On instinct, I shake her shoulders, wincing when her face contorts in pain.
Her hazy green eyes open, and I blink back tears. "My nightstand…taped…under…drawer. Call. He'll…take care…of you…"
Mabel rushes back into the room, the phone held to her ear. "We heard a gunshot, and now Mama is on the ground bleedin'." She rattles off the address and hangs up. "They're sendin' an ambulance, Mama. It's gonna be okay."
Mama gives her a weak smile. "I love you…both so much. There's…somethin' you need to know. Your father's…"
But then…the worst thing that could have happened…happens.
"What the fuck is going on?" Daddy's voice roars from the doorway, and Mabel and I look at him with tear-stained faces.
"I…I don't know. We were at the orchard, and we heard a shot, and then…" I choke on my words, and Daddy's face turns panicked for a moment before he curses and comes over to us.
"Did you call the police?" His voice is cold.
"Yes, we—" I don't even see the hit coming. One moment, I'm staring at the light leaving Mama's eyes, and the next, my ears are ringing as my head whips to the side.
"Stupid, stupid girl!" He spits at me. "They're gonna try to blame this on me, ya hear? And then you and Mabel will be on the streets! Is that what you want?"
"Why would they blame you?" Mabel asks quietly, sniffling.
Daddy pales, before shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. I was at John's Place. I have an alibi." It almost seems like he's talking to himself. Then his attention comes onto me again.
"What was she doin' home? She was supposed to be at work. You were supposed to be home."
"I…" my voice shakes as I take in the groceries littered on the floor. Broken eggs, chocolate frosting…
Mabel puts it together before I do. "She…she took work off early to bake us a birthday cake."
"That idiot," Daddy spits. “It was supposed to be you! Cian said—” But right then, I notice Mama's chest stop moving.
After that, the only thing I can hear are my screams, and the white-hot pain of Daddy trying his best to shut me up.
I jerk awake, my breathing coming in heavy pants, my sweatsuit sticking to my skin.
Fuck. It's been a minute since I've had that dream.
My stomach roils, and I sit on the edge of the bed, putting my head between my knees like Declan taught me. Luckily, since I missed dinner last night, I don’t have anything to vomit back up.
I thought after I had run into Hayden, that maybe seeing the reality of Zombieland hadn’t shaken me up too much. Any interaction with that boy is like a shot of oxytocin straight to the brain.
But then that damn nightmare happened.
A small squeak startles me, and then I remember that Turnip went to sleep on my pillow the night before. She's now staring, head tilted as she sits up on her back two legs, chittering at me.
"Sorry, Turnip." I grimace. "Bad dream." I chance a glance at my analog clock and see that I need to be up for kitchen duty in ten minutes anyway, so I may as well take an extra long shower to get the sweat off.
I gather the little tote that Leslie provided me with, as well as a purple jumpsuit and some underwear. Then, I grab the extra towel that Addie swiped for me before quietly leaving my room and heading for the communal shower.
I'm not the only one up by a long shot, but it's especially annoying to see Paige Lawson doing her hair in the bathroom. Her face is still covered up by the huge bandage, but at least her bruises seem to be yellowing.
She sneers at me through the mirror. "Trailer Trash Bitch." Smirking, I shrug, because honestly? That's fair.
Apparently that's not answer enough for her though, because then she's stalking up to me as I pull off my sweats.
"Fucking bitch!" But then her eyes widen and her cheeks flush at the sight of my bare chest, and I arch a brow at her.
"Paigey, all I'm tryin' to do is get a shower. Thought you'd want this 'trailer trash' stink out of your nose."
She sneers, her embarrassment at seeing my half-naked body evaporating. "Good. Because—"