Dangerous (23 page)

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Authors: Sandra Kishi Glenn

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And should I ever leave Val, the tattoo would simply become a pretty, secret thing with no taint of scandal. That had been the calculus of my decision, given my uncertain situation.

I stood, awaiting judgment.

“Koishi, the gift is acceptable. I will have you back, but let me be clear: you are on probation. Fail me again and it’s over.”

I nodded.

“Now I have a game in mind for the both of you,” she said, taking the ice cream from Grace and putting it on the railing. She consulted her pocket watch. “It’s a quarter past eight. You have half an hour to return with something to please me. There will be a reward for the winner. Begin now.”

§

Thirty minutes is not very long, and Val had exotic tastes.

At 8:45pm Grace and I stood before her, awaiting judgment on this week’s episode of
Kinky Doll Scavenger Hunt
. That’s how I’d come to think of the adventure, at any rate.

Our eyes were drawn to the item Grace held in her arms, an impossibly huge, fluorescent green teddy bear; one of those ghastly prizes from the dozen-or-so arcade games on the pier.

Val arched an eyebrow at sight of it, but said, “Let us have your offering first, Koishi. What have you brought your Keeper?”

I knew the pier’s gift shops held nothing of interest for Val, so I had sought out the dark corners, the places where broken things collected, and taken four photos on my cell phone.

The first picture was of a homeless woman, expertly blowing bubbles in the sherbet-colored lights of the Tilt-A-Whirl ride. Her face glowed with a beatific, almost child-like expression.

The second picture showed a broken barbie doll lying beside a trash can.

The third was of a pair of pigeon wings lying peacefully, bottom side up, on the large creosote-treated planks of the pier. I had discovered them beneath a staircase, in the space between the enclosed turn-of-the-century carousel and an adjoining seafood restaurant. It was a total enigma to me; there was no body, no blood, only the two wings perfectly arranged as if the rest of the pigeon had simply disappeared. Just the bones sticking out where the shoulders should have been, and little bits of dark, drying sinew. It was enigmatic, troubling…and exactly the sort of thing Val loved.

My last picture was only a few minutes old. It showed a young boy crying as his father ignored him to play the ring-toss game with a look of utter concentration. I had been captivated by the complete disconnect between the distraught boy and his goal-oriented father. It wasn’t neglect, really. Yet the scene touched me in a tender spot. As a child I had known more than one such moment with my own father.

Val did not comment, but the images held her interest for many moments. She did not show them to Grace. At length she returned the phone to me and regarded my adversary and her ridiculous stuffed bear.

“I admit some surprise at your offering, Grace. Tell me about it.”

“A man won this at the ring toss for his boy. I offered to pay him for it, but he refused. Everyone has their price, though. That man’s price just happens to be one hundred dollars.”

“And why should I find this gift pleasing?” Val pressed.

“The boy didn’t want to part with it. He put up quite a fuss…but of course that’s more than enough money to buy a better toy. I think the brat will get over it.”

So that was the story behind my last photo. I must have just missed Grace’s exit, and only caught the aftermath. This new intelligence painted the father in a slightly less negative light: he’d been trying to win another toy for his son, to make up for the loss of the first.

Val’s mouth twisted into a dark smile as she studied Grace, having connected the dots too, and asked me to show her the fourth photo. “Is this the boy?”

Grace nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“And I am to savor the man’s surrender to greed. The choice to betray his child, and the fact that such a
ludicrous
object can engender so much anguish. Is that it?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You have blundered badly, Grace. Find the child
now
and return his toy, or go home and never trouble me again. Am I perfectly clear?” Val’s voice was calm, but sharp as a new razor.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Grace nearly ran back to the arcade.

I was stunned by this new turn. Yes, Grace’s gift was terribly cruel, but it did possess a certain Val-like poignancy, a flavor of self-inflicted pain. I might have made a similar error, though perhaps not so mean-spirited.

And was I also in trouble, for having captured the same boy’s pain with my final photograph? But Val said nothing, and we waited in silence. Far below, and out of sight, the ocean churned about the tall, barnacled pilings. Presently a news helicopter growled past, flying low over the water as it sped north toward Malibu.

Grace was lucky; the father and son had not left the pier and she was able to find them. She returned, breathless and contrite, terror in her eyes. Of course she might simply have hidden the toy somewhere, but I didn’t think she dared. Especially after her original blunder.

“Did you get your money back?” Val wanted to know.

“…No, Ma’am,” said Grace uncertainly. Her head was lowered. “It didn’t seem proper.”

“Doll has a molecule of sense after all,” said Val, and then addressed us both. “I am a very cruel person at times, but let me make something abundantly plain.
Children are entirely off-limits.

Now
that
was a bit of news. The unusual emphasis in her last words suggested more than a fierce and unexpected morality; the matter was deeply personal.

Grace did not raise her head.

“I think we all know who won my little game.” Val let us absorb this. “Koishi, would you like your prize now?”

The safest answer to this sort of question was always, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Val instructed Grace to give me her mobile number, which I entered into my own phone’s contact list. I wondered where this was headed.

“Grace herself shall be your prize. Until I say otherwise, she is yours to play with. Feel free to call upon her at any hour of the day or night, since she comes from a wealthy family and has no real obligations to speak of. Be as cruel to her as you like. In fact, this is the ideal opportunity to stretch your horizons.” I caught a strangled cry from the girl, who evidently did not care for her new role.

Of course, what Val called a “gift” was usually just a new way to torment dolls, and this was no exception. I had neither the desire, nor the experience necessary to dominate Grace. I despised her, and the other woman’s expression proved the feeling was mutual.

“Listen well, Grace. Tonight you are coming home with me, and I will see to it you never make such a mistake again. In the meantime, a proper display of contrition may soften my mood, if you are very sincere.
May
, mind you.” Val pointed to me and said, “Direct your apology to Miss Koishi.”

She faced me with smoldering eyes. Through tight lips, she said:

“Forgive me, Ma’am. I was thoughtless. It won’t happen again.”

There was fear in her voice, but also a hint of defiance which was profoundly irritating. Val and I were silent as stones.

“It was wrong of me,” Grace added, sensing the depth of our disapproval and releasing my hand. She fell to her knees. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you
shouldn’t
,” Val interrupted. “Koishi, what do you make of Grace’s apology?”

“Not very much, Ma’am.” I greatly enjoyed this reversal of fortune.

“I concur. Are you going to tolerate this sloppy behavior?”

The girl glowered before me, and I fought the urge to slap her. I was not used to being on this side of such an exchange, but I’d spent enough time with Val to take a stab at it. In a steady voice, I said, “Let’s hear that apology again…in haiku.”

It was fascinating to watch her strain to compose. Was this how I looked when Val thrust such challenges upon me? Eyes downcast, lips pursed, brow furrowed, fingers ticking off syllables. I had never considered my appearance, for the effort took all my concentration. She seemed so small, so cornered.

I wasn’t prepared for thrill it produced. With a few simple words, I’d locked the girl in an agony of mental effort.

As the seconds ticked away I became impatient. Christ, was
I
this slow? I fought the temptation to check my watch, but there was no doubt she felt the press of time. The wind began to freshen, and I regretted not bringing a sweater.

After what must have been two minutes, Grace recited:

bad doll hurt a boy
by taking his bear away.
she is so sorry.

It was dreadful. She knew it.

“There are many reasons you are not my favorite doll, and this is one of them. A terrible effort.” Val said. The words stung the girl like a whip stroke.

I spied a pair of policemen on their beat, about two hundred feet away, walking in our general direction from the amusement park area which occupied the pier’s middle span. They had noticed Grace’s kneeling position and approached, giving us a strong dose of Cop Eye.

I looked to Val, who also saw them but was unperturbed.

“Stand up, doll, and pay attention,” said Val calmly. Grace obeyed. “You are a stupid, spoiled brat who has never had to work a day in her life. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Then why do I keep you?”

Her lips twisted a bit as she thought it over. “Because I’m pretty and I do what you tell me, Ma’am?”

“You don’t sound very sure of that.”

“No, Ma’am. I mean, yes, Ma’am! I’m very sure.”

The cops were much closer now.

“Are you deliberately trying to anger me now?”

“No, Ma’am!”

Like the throw of a switch, Val’s icy manner became tender. “Then give me a kiss and tell me how much you love me.”

Grace blinked at the change in tone, then stepped closer and kissed Val sweetly. She looked up at her with glittering eyes and said, “You are wonderful to me, Ma’am. I don’t deserve you.” She didn’t understand the reason for her reprieve, but she was smart enough to capitalize upon it.

“That’s true,” Val said. “You really don’t. But you have your charms.”

“Is there a problem, ladies?” said the taller of the two policemen when they stopped a couple of paces from us. He reminded me faintly of the bad terminator from the second movie: slender, focused, a little scary. Grace, impressively, betrayed no surprise at the sound of his voice, though she had not seen them approach.

I’ve always been afraid of cops, and I prayed they didn’t sense that, the way dogs can. Unintelligible voices squawked from the radios they wore. Their heavy sidearms and nightsticks unnerved me.

Val was pleasant as sunshine and butterflies. “None at all, officer. Grace, dear, is there a problem?”

The girl turned to face the uniformed men. “Oh, no, Ma’am!” she bubbled, instantly becoming The Flirty Schoolgirl. “Can we help you with anything, Sir?” I almost rolled my eyes.

The pair really didn’t know what to make of us.

“Just keep it decent,” said the other one, with a trace of amusement. They’d be talking about us back at the station, I was sure of that.

“Aw, must we?” Grace teased.

“Behave,” admonished Val, with a wry smile. “Officer Blake, Officer Mendoza…do have a lovely evening.” With a slight bow of her head, she indicated they could leave now. And, incredibly, they did, their leather holsters squeaking as they strode off.

When they were several yards away, I made a small magician’s hand wave. “These are not the dolls you’re looking for,” I said in a low voice.

Val laughed. “There are many reasons why you are my favorite doll, Koishi. And that is one of them.”

Favorite doll?
I was unprepared for such praise, especially tonight. “Um, thank you, Ma’am!”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she warned.

“Of course not, Ma’am.” I looked in the direction of the departing cops. “I should have you do that trick on Tyler.”

“Hmm?” she asked, somewhat distractedly.

“Just some creepy security guard at work. If he didn’t wear a uniform I’d call him a stalker. And he seems especially fond of me.” I shuddered.

But then Val’s attention returned to Grace, who had rediscovered humility. “Well. I think it’s time to see to the doll’s punishment. Will you be joining us, Koishi?”

But I begged off, with the excuse of needing to go to work early the next morning.

“A pity…but I understand,” Val said. “Still, I think you are ready to begin your training as a Keeper.”

I was stunned.

She continued, “When you return from Houston, I think we will make use of Grace for this purpose. You
do
wish to further your training, don’t you?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, trying to sound confident.

“Excellent. Doll, say goodnight to Miss Koishi.”

Grace kissed my hand again. “Good evening, Miss,” she said, and curtsied.

With a parting “Ta,” Val led the girl back toward the other end of the pier. A chill wind stirred my hair, but I scarcely noticed.

My favorite doll.

17     
houston

FORTY MINUTES OUT from Houston International Airport, the captain announced the beginning of our descent. Because of a good tail wind we’d be arriving at 11:15pm, a full ten minutes early. I looked at my wrist out of habit and remembered, again, that Val had taken my watch.

I pulled the thin airline blanket close about me and vainly tried to sleep. The flight from Burbank to Salt Lake City wasn’t bad, but this second leg to Houston had been hellish, exhausting. The heavyset man who bulged over my right armrest snored like a tuba, and the little bouncing brat across the aisle on my left inspired increasingly violent daydreams of infanticide.

But even without these fellow travelers from Hell, I could not have slept a wink. Tired, vulnerable, frustrated, and a little afraid, I descended into the dark unknown on aluminum wings.

§

I should have known the trip would begin with Val’s usual twists.

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