Psycho Save Us (4 page)

“This is
stupid,” Kaley said presently.

“What’s stupid?”
Shannon asked.

“Nuthin’. 
C’mon, we need to get back.  Hurry.  Did you pocket the money I gave you?”

“Yeah,” Shannon
said, and pulled it out to prove it was so.  “See?  Count it.”

“We’ll count it
l—”  Kaley stopped herself short.  She looked down at the money in her little
sister’s hand.  Something didn’t look right about it.  There weren’t enough
bills.  “Hold on.”  She set down the groceries in her hand, and took the money
from Shannon.  She counted it.  She recounted it.  They had had a twenty-dollar
bill.  The groceries had been $9.36.  Kaley counted it again.  “Check your
pockets again,” she told Shannon.  “There’s not even six dollars here.”  There
were three dollar bills and the rest was in quarters, dimes and nickels.  “I
said
check your
pockets
,” she repeated.

“I am!” Shannon said. 
She turned them out, and there was nothing left.

“Did you drop
some back in the store?”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“We gotta go
back.”  Then, a part of young Kaley’s mind rebelled. 
It’s just four dollars
and some change you’re missing
, it said. 
Let it go
. 
Let this
go, girl
.  That sounded like Nan, strangely.  And then she argued back. 
It’s
not “just” anything
. 
It’s money that was owed me
.  One thing Kaley
shared with her mother, and not her Nan, was her anger over being cheated. 

It was a mistake
. 
You know
Mac well enough
. 
He’s not gonna short you four dollars on purpose!
 
Then, on the heels of that,
You don’t know that for sure
.

And then,
something else told her not to go back.  It was a feeling, not any sort of
argument with herself or with Nan.  When she had been inside that store, Kaley
had felt a looming threat from the white man.  She didn’t think it was aimed
directly at her, but it was there.  Of that, the charm had been perfectly
clear. 
I don’t want Shannon in the middle of that
.  And if she had
listened to that last piece of advice from her charm, Kaley wouldn’t have been
plagued with nightmares for the rest of her life.  She wouldn’t have blamed
herself to the point of winding up on a therapist’s couch for years on end,
trying to forgive herself for something everyone else had forgiven her for
long, long ago.

He’s got our
money
,
she thought.

Then Kaley remembered
the white man, him in his black hoodie and jeans, looking over at her at one
point with his smile and feral face and…shaking his head?  Yes, he had
definitely shaken his head at her in a warning sign. 
He even warned me away
. 
The more she’d been around him, the more she had known that he was no good. 
He’s
not a nice man
.  No, that wasn’t right, he wasn’t just not nice.  He was
sick.  He was deranged.  He was vicious.  “You don’ have to tell nobody why you
decide the things you decide,” Nan had told her.  “Jes listen to yo charm an’
let everybody think you’re crazy. 
You’ll
know you made the right
decision.”

But it’s not the
right decision to let someone rip you off
. 
It’s just crazy
. 
Charm
may skip a generation, but when it comes to crazy, apples don’t fall far from
the tree
.  Kaley’s mother was a crazed meth-head now, and Nan had been out
of her gourd for the last few years of her life.  Kaley was not going to be
like them.

She thought
about the warning shake of the head from the white man. 
You imagined it
. 
That’s that
.

So that was
that.  With new resolve, she put the rest of the money in her pocket and said,
“Here, pick up the orange juice.  I’ll carry the rest.”

“We goin’ home?”

“No.  We’re
going back.”

“But it’s just—”

“It’s another
day’s groceries! 
That’s
what that is!”

“I don’t wanna—”

“We’re going and
that’s final, Shannon!”

“That’s not
fair
!”

“Hush now. 
Ninjas don’t talk.  C’mon.  We’re just gonna get what’s ours.”

They started
back down Kenton.  Up the street behind her, two cars were parked.  An El
Camino and Expedition.  The El Camino flashed its lights twice, and the
Expedition flashed once in response.  The El Camino pulled down the street
slowly, and the Expedition followed just behind.

Kaley felt a
tickle at the back of her head.  This one, too, she ignored.

The phone had rung
and gone to voicemail eight times.  Spencer looked over at Mac, who was sitting
in a chair that completely disappeared beneath his wide ass.  He had his arms
folded, and had flipped on a small television that showed
SportsCenter
. 
Highlight reels of the day’s games were rolling.  The Bulls weren’t doing so
hot this year according to Charles Barkley, his host, Kevin Negandhi agreed.

Spencer dialed
again.  The phone rang four times, then came the message, “Yo, cut this, cuz.  I
ain’t around.  Leave a message.  I’ll holla atcha, a’ight?  Peace!”

“Basil, it’s
me.  Now answer your goddam phone, Yeti.  You high or somethin’?  I need what
you have.  Now.  ASAP.  I know you moved but I’ll find out where you live.  I’ll
be comin’ around your place later tonight, you better believe that.”  He hung
up, and then dialed two more times just to be sure.  But Basil the “Yeti” never
picked up.  He sighed and stood there in the shop, the phone in one hand and
Mac’s special burger in the other.  He took a bite and shook his head.

“Sounds like you
a friendless muthafucka tonight,” Mac said, calling that one over his shoulder.

Spencer looked
at him.  He tossed the phone back to the prick and said, “Catch.”  Mac caught
it just in time, and put it in his pocket.  “Know where I can get a good night’s
sleep around here?  I got no ID, so I need that to be not an issue.”

“I feel ya,
playboy,” he said.  “Up the street three blocks.  Take a right on Filmore. 
Second stoplight, make a right.  You be Motel Quickin’ like a muthafucka.”

“Motel Quick? 
That’s the place’s name?”

“Ya heard me.”

Spencer nodded
and turned away.  But before he walked out the door, he said, “Get a new
jersey.”

“Huh?  Why?”

“You support
illegal dog fighters?”

“You like eatin’
dead cows?”

Spencer looked
down at the burger in his hand.  “Touché.  You may not make a great burger, Mac,
but you make one hell of an argument.”

Mac tapped a
finger to the side of his head.  “I’m all wise an’ shit.”

“I see that
now.  Sayonara, Obi-Wan,” he said, pulling his hood over his head.  On his way
out, Spencer lifted his Dr. Pepper from the counter and raised it in mock
salute.

“Yo, I’m Yoda,
playa,” he said, popping open a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon.  “Obi-Wan’s a
whiny-ass lil’ bitch.”

Spencer stepped
out into the night and gave a quick nod to the four fellows hanging out outside
Dodson’s.  He glanced up the street, saw that the two black boys outside of the
car title pawn shop Strike Gold were still there.  However, the El Camino and
the Expedition were gone now.  He checked his watch, and marked the time.

As he approached
the driver’s side of his stolen Toyota, a pair of stray cats darted out from
underneath it.  He watched them cross the lonely street, then opened the door. 
He paused again when he glanced down the street, and saw the two black girls
returning.  By now he’d come to realize his earlier paranoia had been
unfounded.  The girl was just curious, that’s all.  Her parents hadn’t taught
her that it was rude to stare. 

Spencer heard
some shouting behind him.  He turned and saw a black man and a black woman
walking on the sidewalk across the street.  The woman was hollering
inarticulate threats while she walked ahead of the man.  A lover’s quarrel, one
the man seemed to hardly care about as he was busy texting someone on his
phone.

Spencer hopped
inside the truck and cranked it up.  He looked out at the four black guys still
leaning against the glass windows of Dodson’s Store, and raised his Dr. Pepper
to them.  “A salute to your future schemes and depredations,” Spencer Pelletier
said.  He took a sip.

And then several
things seemed to happen at once.  Tires screeched.  Someone screamed.  Then
someone else screamed.  The four black guys leaning against Dodson’s Store
bolted like their lives were on the line.  There was some more shouting.  “Get
her!  Get that one!  Don’t let her fuckin’ get away!”  Someone else screamed,
“Run, Shannon! 
Ruuuuuuuuuuuuun
!”

Spencer threw
his Dr. Pepper into the floorboard and put his truck into drive, then looked in
his rearview mirror just long enough to see that it wasn’t the cops, and the
attack wasn’t meant for him.

They were almost
there.  Dodson’s blinking sign had just come within view, those few letters
switching on and off indecisively.  Kaley slowed down a bit when she saw the
white man exit the front of the store.  He had his burger in one hand and his
soda in the other.  He had pulled his hood up over his head, and was glancing
right and left, combing the street like he was expecting someone.  His eyes
darted all around at all times, though Kaley somehow didn’t believe he knew he
was doing it. 
He notices things with those kind eyes, things others don’t
. 
He marks things
.

She pulled
lightly back on Shannon’s hand, a sisterly communication that was immediately
heeded, no matter how cross Shannon was with her.  They both waited for the
white man to hop inside his truck.  “You think he bad?” Shannon asked,
partially coming out of her sulking mood and looking at the white man with a
mixture of curiosity and trepidation.  Kaley didn’t answer.  Once he was inside
and had cranked it up, they started moving again.

That’s when she
became aware of the dull hum from behind.

“It’ll be
quick,” Kaley promised her sister, who turned away, remembering to sulk.  “Just
in an out.”

The humming got
louder.

Something happened
then.  Vertigo, or something close to it.  She felt it deep in her guts.  Her
stomach leapt to her throat, and then it eased back down.  She looked up and
saw things in slow motion.  She also saw her future.  There was a black man
holding her hand, kissing it.  He was very handsome.  Was he her husband?  For
a moment, Kaley was swimming in happiness, then darkness crept in, the way a
bad feeling creeps in on a good dream and gives it ominous new undertones. 
Like the worst of nightmares, the bad feeling was
per
ceptual rather than
con
ceptual.

Then, she
snapped out of it.  Only a second or two had passed, and she and Shannon were
walking again.

Then there was
the humming.  It was an engine. 
Wonder what kind of car that is?
she
thought, and turned to see.  The El Camino was coming so fast she thought she
was about to be hit.  Without thinking, Kaley shoved Shannon out of the way. 
Her little sister screamed indignantly as she hit the pavement.  Kaley put her
arms in front of her and prepared to die…

And, oh God, if
only she had.

The El Camino
screeched to a halt.  The Expedition came up right beside but didn’t stop. 
Instead, the Expedition slowed down and pulled around to the curb.  In an
instant, Kaley knew what this was.  Somehow she knew. 

Someone shouted,
“Get her!  Get that one!  Don’t let her fuckin’ get away!”  That confirmed it.

Kaley flung her
groceries at the El Camino’s windshield.  “Run, Shannon! 
Ruuuuuuuuuuuuun
!” 
The charm had told her, had fed her all the warning signs.  She hadn’t listened. 
She hadn’t heeded Nan’s advice.

Shannon, not
understanding, got to her feet but didn’t run anywhere.  Lost without the
Anchor, without the all-comforting touch of her big sister’s hand, she stood
there wide-eyed and confused.  By now the tattooed white men had leapt out of
the El Camino and were bolting for her.  She turned and screamed at Shannon
again, “Run!”  This time, the Big Sister command jolted the little one out of
her inactive state, and Shannon obeyed.  But the Expedition had pulled in front
of her, corralling both Big and Little Sister.  Ahead of the Expedition, the
four guys that had been hanging out outside Dodson’s turned and ran, like they
knew the score here and didn’t want to be either an accessory or another
victim.  Shannon tried to run around to the back, but the Expedition stopped,
went into reverse and cut her off.  Just then, someone leapt out of the back
driver’s side door and reached out to snatch Shan.

“No!” Kaley
screamed, and ran directly at the big man.  This one was black and bald, and
twice the size of Rick, Kaley’s ex-stepdad.  In those as-yet-unlived years of
guilt, Kaley would hate herself for making another mistake.  Instead of running
for Shannon she should’ve run away.  That would’ve allowed her to tell the
police everything she’d seen and give a description.  That would’ve been the
smart
thing to do.