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not of a main concern to his probation officer, the

cocaine was. When his probation officer told Jack

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that he had tested positive for cocaine -- which he

had confided to me that he had been using for

nearly the whole school year when I confronted

him about his mood swings – he ran from the

probation office and stayed on the run. He

evaded police custody for months, and when he

was finally caught, he was placed in foster care in

lieu of Juvenile Detention. Since his original

detention was in a different county, I did not get a

chance to see Jack during his brief incarceration

before he was shipped off to foster care.

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Matthew rolled over and woke me up. He was

pleasant, well rested and wanted to play. I’d only

been asleep a couple of hours, and my whole

body ached.

“Ya wanna do a puzzle?” he asked in a hoarse

whisper.

“Hold on,” I squeaked. I knew I had to wake up

before he threw a tantrum. If Matthew didn’t get

his way with me, he would scream and wake up

Bobby, and that would be worse than getting out

of bed exhausted. Bobby loved and coddled

Matthew to the same degree that he hated and

tortured me. I have tried to work it out myself,

and I even asked Debbie before she died, but

there was no real reason. It’s just the way it was.

I crawled gently from the bed and laid myself out

on the floor beside Matthew where he had spread

the pieces of the Star Wars puzzle. We had put

together this puzzle hundreds of times, and we

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were both excited each time we saw the finished

picture on the floor. We lay together on the floor,

flipping the pieces face up without talking. We

rarely spoke to each other inside the apartment.

Fitting together the pieces, we were lost in the

task as the puzzle came together. The door

opened, and the silence was broken. We both

snapped to attention. Scrambling to our feet, we

heard Debbie’s voice before she entered the

room.

“Matthew, get dressed if you’re gonna play. Greg

come here. Bobby wants you.” She looked

nervous as she stretched her arm toward me. I

hesitated but knew there was no escape. I walked

to the door and followed her out without reaching

for her hand.

“It’s gonna be alright. We just need you to cook

for us real quick,” she whispered.

Bobby was sitting on the couch in the living

room. The television was on, but he wasn’t

watching. His legs were kicked out as if he had

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collapsed into position. He looked over his right

shoulder at Debbie and me coming toward him.

Without a word, he raised his mighty arm over

his head and pointed to the stove. Turning into

the kitchen area, I saw the milk crates already

stacked in position in front of the oven door. I

climbed up into my place and hiked up my

underwear. I was too little to reach the stove on

my own, so I used three milk crates as steps.

The bag of heroin sat on the counter next to the

works I had been taught to use about a year

earlier. At first I had been clumsy and wasted

Bobby’s dope and therefore his money. He sold

heroin out of the apartment and always had a

large stash on hand, but he easily became angry

when I cooked it too long, making it worthless.

The beatings that followed each mistake taught

me to be more careful, and I soon learned how to

cook, load, and spike heroin. Cooking it up and

loading the needle were routine and automatic.

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Spiking the needle into Debbie and Bobby always

made me nervous.

I leaned over to my right and turned the faucet

on to a soft drizzle. I caught some water with an

old glass eyedropper and quickly turned the water

off. Leaning back to the stove, I turned on the

front burner and picked up the pot, a

straightened paperclip wrapped around a large

metal bottle cap. I cooked up the heroin and

water and loaded it into the syringe. Debbie came

to me quickly and grabbed the syringe from my

hand. With the job done, I turned off the burner

and climbed down from the crates. I stood

motionless, waiting for a sign of what to do next.

Would I have to spike them too, or could I go

back to the puzzle?

Bobby was already tied off when Debbie handed

him the needle. She spun her head, and her wild

red hair flew in front of her eyes. She brushed it

aside and looked at me, frantically waving me

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away back to the bedroom. No words were ever

spoken.

Back in the room, Matthew was dressed and the

puzzle was put away. I wondered if he’d let me

sleep if I got back into bed.

“We can’t go out yet,” I told him. “Did you finish

the puzzle?”

“Yeah. You gettin’ dressed?”

“I wanna go back to bed.” I hung my head and

feared his response.

“I’m gonna play Men, I don’t care what you do.”

It was then that I noticed the action figures set up

on the floor by the closet. I got into bed and

curled into a ball. I pressed my knees into my face

trying to block out the sunlight flooding through

the curtain-less windows. Bobby and Debbie

would be out for a while, and I knew we weren’t

allowed to leave the room until they came to get

us. The coast was clear. I fell asleep quickly.

“Let’s go assholes, we got work!” The door closed

as quickly as it had opened.

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Bobby’s voice woke me from sleep. When I

opened my eyes, I saw Matthew asleep on the

floor where he’d been playing. My body stil

ached, but I felt better from the sleep. Crawling

from bed, I dragged myself slowly to the closet. I

pulled on my pants and found a shirt. Matthew

was already out the door, as I pulled the shirt

down over my bruised belly. I grabbed my

sneakers and walked into the living room.

Debbie stood fully dressed in a colorful blouse

and jeans. Her platform shoes made her seem

large and dangerous. Bobby was sailing through

the small apartment, gathering the familiar tools

that remained scattered among the mess in the

room. On the couch sat two men I had never

seen before. They passed a joint between them,

and I watched as they flipped the ashes on their

pant legs. Bobby ignored them, as he dumped

tools onto the couch beside them; they didn’t

move or seem to recognize that he was there

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either. Matthew and I stood silently, watching

and waiting.

“Don’t leave. As soon as we get back, we’ll split

up what we got and I’ll give you the car. It won’t

be a couple hours. Don’t let anyone in.” Bobby

barked at the two men, but they just sat there

inattentively.

“Gotdamn it, what’d I just say?”

“Fuck man, I heard ya. Don’t let anyone in. Got

it. I need that car tonight, don’t lose it.” The man

never looked at Bobby as he spoke.

Bobby walked in front of the two men and bent

down to put his face in theirs.

“Don’t leave this fuckin room. I
will
be back.” He

raised his hand, and I thought he was going to hit

them, but he just grabbed the joint and hit it a

couple times before passing it back.

Debbie handed him a duffel bag from behind the

couch, and he frantically jammed all of the tools

into it before zipping it up.

“You got everything?”

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“Where are the keys?”

“Gimme the keys.” Bobby put his large hand out

in front of the men. One of them dropped the

keys and looked up for the first time.

“We’ll be here, have fun.”

Bobby heaved the bag from the couch with his

right hand and slung it over his shoulder. As he

walked around the couch, he seemed to notice

Matthew and me standing there by Debbie. He

walked toward us and reached out and stroked

Matthew’s silky blonde hair.

“You ready for some work? It’ll be quick and

fun.” His eyes sparkled as he spoke to Matthew.

Without looking at me, he swung the duffel bag

into my chest and demanded, “Carry this shit.”

With Matthew’s small blonde head cradled in his

left hand, Bobby guided him past Debbie and

toward the front door.

“Woman, get yer ass over here and let’s go,” his

voice was calm but impatient. Matthew looked up

at him with awe and admiration. Debbie glided to

265

the door and reached in front of Bobby and

Matthew to undo the multiple locks and chains

on the door. When the last chain dangled from its

cradle, Bobby took control and opened the door.

Still guiding Matthew by his head, he walked out

the door. Debbie trailed behind, and I followed,

closing the door behind me. I could hear the door

being locked and the chains fastened, as I started

down the steps. I hefted the duffel bag filled with

hammers, pry bars, wrenches and screwdrivers

down the three flights of stairs, as Bobby laughed

with Matthew and Debbie about the “new” car.

Outside, the day was bright, and my eyes hurt

from the glare. Just outside the doorway of the

building sat a Volkswagen Beetle that Bobby was

showing off to Matthew. There was pride in his

laughter. As I approached the car, Bobby turned

toward me, grabbed the bag from my hands and

threw it in the back seat next to Matthew.

“Get in,” he ordered. The enthusiasm I had

heard earlier was gone when he spoke to me. I

266

resented Matthew for the difference in our

treatment.

Bobby had a hard time getting the car into

reverse, and he began to get angry. He yelled at

the car, and he yelled at the two men in the

apartment for stealing it. The car jerked

backward, and I hit my head on the side window.

Bobby turned to look at me and laughed.

Suddenly he was happy again. I cowered in the

seat, holding my head while trying to hide from

his view.

We drove in silence for a while, and when I

finally looked out the window, I saw trees lining

the streets, and houses with lawns. We were

nowhere near the Village, and I knew what was

coming. Bobby pulled the car over in front of an

elegant apartment building with bushes beneath

the windows of the lower apartments and a fence

around the lush green lawn. I didn’t like being so

far from home.

267

“This place has a few condos on each floor. You

two run down the hall and knock on each door as

you pass by. The stairs are at the end of the hall,

hide under there and count what doors get

answered. Got it?”

“Okay,” Matthew and I replied in unison.

“We’ll be in in a minute. Don’t say a word inside

that building. Take the bag with you. Go!”

Debbie turned in her seat and looked at us from

behind large brown sunglasses. I wondered if she

could really see us. She reached back and rubbed

each of our shaggy heads as we got out of the car.

I lugged the bag over my shoulder with both

hands.

Matthew and I took off running as soon as we hit

the sidewalk. We knew we had to look like two

wild kids playing a game to make this work. We

raced up the sidewalk, but I lagged behind under

the weight of the bag. Matthew jumped up the

small concrete steps to the large front door of the

building. He slammed his right shoulder into it

268

while turning the knob, trying to make as much

noise as possible. If there were any sleepers in the

building, we needed to wake them up. He threw

the door open wide and waited for me to make it

up the steps. Sore and encumbered, I was moving

as quickly as possible, but I could see the

frustration on his face.

“Come on,” Matthew prodded. He glared at me

and then smiled, as he looked behind me to the

car.

His impatience didn’t help me carry the bag, but

I knew Bobby and Debbie were watching, so I

tried to quicken my pace. At a slow hobble, I

made it up the steps and into the building. There

were a few doors on each side of the short, wide

hallway. Suddenly energized, we ran down the

hall and banged on each door. Matthew got all

the doors on the left, and I hit the ones on the

right, swinging the heavy bag into each. There

was a loud metallic clang each time the bag of

tools rammed into the center of a door. Running

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as fast as we could, Matthew and I collided at the

end of the hall. Slinging the bag under first, we

dove under the stairwell and kept quiet just as

we’d been told. We poked our heads out - trying

not to laugh - so we could count any doors that

opened. Not a single one of them opened and we

heard no noise. Leaving the tools beneath the

stairs, we ran out and hit each door two more

times, once going and once coming; then we were