The Witch (8 page)

“That's right. You keep on saying that.”

Janice walked home fast. It was a long way from being dark, but the sky had lowered another notch and the heat was glassy and she still felt a little sick, throw-up sick. Nobody was out on the streets in Nana's neighborhood, they never were, but what if somebody was watching her. Was it better to walk slow or fast? She kept her phone up to her ear so that anybody seeing her would think she was talking. She tried to think about Richie Cruz and how he could be the one watching her, following her, but that was no good because then his face blurred into something unrecognizable and mean.

When she got to the post office, Jason was still there. He'd given up on running his bike on the stairs and was sitting on the bottom step, picking at his mosquito bites. “You have to come home with me,” Janice said.

“I do not.”

“It's dinnertime.”

“Says who?”

“Just do it, okay?”

He gave her a squinting look, then hoisted his bike and walked it along behind her.

When they got home Janice said she wasn't hungry, she didn't feel good, she was going to bed. Her mother said, “What's the matter with you, are you constipated?”

“No, leave me alone.”

“If you don't eat, you can't poop. Do you have a fever? Let me feel your forehead.”

“Leave me alone!” She ran upstairs and locked her door even though she wasn't supposed to and texted Marilee to say she couldn't hang out. She turned the fan beside her bed up high so she couldn't hear anything, put the pillow over her head and fell asleep.

Her eyes opened up to darkness. She could tell it was late. She went to her bedroom door and looked out. The faintest light came from downstairs, the light over the stove that her mother left on all night. The television was off. Jason's door was closed and dark.

Janice used the bathroom down the hall and examined herself in the mirror. She brushed her hair and made her bangs poufier. She used the lipstick and black eyeliner she kept under the stack of towels, turning this way and that to see how she looked from different angles.

Back in her bedroom she locked the door again. She turned on the computer and the pink-shaded lamp next to her bed. The computer screen blinked and brightened. She typed in the address, then sat back to read. After a minute she typed in:

Hi, what are you doing?

He wrote back a minute later:
Nothing much. Waiting on u. Turn on yur camera.

OK.

It was always sort of a shock when his face came swimming up under her fingers, so close. He grinned at her.
Hi beautiful.

She shook her head like she didn't believe it.
Hi yourself.

How iz my Candy girl?

Bored. Today just sucked.

Aww. How about I find me some candy to suck on?

She giggled. Candy was the name she used with him, not Janice, which was a stupid name that she imagined had a smell to it, like the inside of her house, which always smelled like cooked carrots. He said that Candy was perfect for her because she was so sweet. He said his name was Geronimo, like the famous Apache war chief. He was kind of bullshit but also kind of cool.
An thats what people yell when they jump out of airplanes, Geronimo!

Why?

I dont know y they just do. Like here I come mofos ahmo mess you up!
He was a little crazy, she liked that.

Geronimo bent over his keyboard. She had told him they had to type everything so nobody at her house would hear.
Tell me what was so bad today.

Just stuff like my mom. Shes always on my case.

I bet she iz jealous. She iz not a pretty young thing like u. PYT!

Geronimo said he was twenty-five, but he was probably older, just like Janice said she was fifteen but she was really younger. He was sort of fat in the face and he combed his hair up into a little blond tuft. If she had met him for real, she might not have thought he was anything special, but this was different. She typed:

Ha ha ! My mom is so not pretty! I don't look like my dad either.

Maybe they adopted u?

LOL! That makes sense. They just went out and got a kid so they had somebody to boss around.
She didn't really think that. There were pictures of her and her mom in the hospital when she was just a little lump in a blanket, then other pictures of her baby self gradually turning into her now self. But she liked the idea of it. It made a better story.

Geronimo was somebody new she'd met. There had been these other guys who she didn't like as much because they weren't online as much or they were just creepy. Geronimo was always there. He said he had a job with computers, he fixed different people's computers, he knew how everything worked. Then, for fun, he hung out on the computer! The camera showed part of the room behind him. It looked like an office, with shelves and messy piles of paper. He kept one of those giant-sized soft drink cups on his desk and drank from it through a straw.

Now he was typing something long. It came up a line at a time:

Don't let them. Boss u around. You need to live yur own life. Not be told everything u. Do is wrong. Because they want u under there thumb. Be strong.

Thanks. I will try to be.

Do or not do. There is no try!

Oh please, that is so lame!
It was from
Star Wars
, but he'd had to tell her that.
Star Wars
was for old people.

So u have a boyfriend yet, PYT?

Maybe.
She didn't want to admit to not having one.

Who iz this maybe boy?

His name is Richie.

U like him?

Of course I do, hes my boyfriend.

Why isnt he there?

My mom won't let him up here. In my room.
That was true, sort of. Her mother would chase a boy away with a broom before she would let the two of them be anywhere with a bed.

Geronimo took a long drink through the straw and wiggled his eyebrows to show that what he was saying was meant to be funny:
How about I be yur boyfriend in yur room.

Oh ha ha.

You hurtin my feelings.
He made a hurt-feelings face, puffing out his cheeks so that his face was even fatter.

Get over it,
she typed, because the idea was, he had to beg her,
Oh Candy pleez pleez,
because she was so beautiful.

Girl u killin me.

Tough.

Have some mercy.

She didn't type anything back, but she fiddled with her hair, then, like it was a casual thing, nothing she really thought about, pulled her top down so her boobs were out.

Candy girl u are wicked hot.

She leaned into the screen and made a kiss mouth. She squeezed her arms underneath her boobs so they looked really big.

Put yur hands on u.

Pretend it really was Richie Cruz, right there with her. She'd do this for him. Whatever he wanted. This and this and this. Her eyes were closed, seeing him. Then she opened them and it was Geronimo, his big white face filling the screen and his mouth loose and so close she could see the wet pink inside of it and she typed
I have to go,
and hit the kill button.

—

The next day Marilee asked what she did the night before and Janice said nothing, just fell asleep early.

—

I'm like a little freaked out, I'm not really old enough to be Talking to me?
Geronimo offered, since she didn't want to say everything straight out.

Yeah.

But u want to, dont u?

I guess so.

Then sounds to me like ur old enough. I mean its natural. Natural is the way the real world iz, not some pretend story they tell you in church.

Not that anybody in her family went to church, but she knew what he meant.

Lie down on yur bed OK?

Why?

Becoz I been thinking of you on a bed. Pleez, Miss Sweet Candy, I got this craving for u, u are so beautiful booty full.

Ha ha.

Pleez.

Like this?

Oh yeah yeah! Now scoot back an wiggle some.

Janice and Marilee hung out at the food court in the mall, eating pizza slices. The mall was old and the stores kept closing down. After a while a different store would open in the same place, something disappointing like golf equipment or baby clothes. It was the totally boring headquarters of the totally
boring summer. Some guys from their school were there but they were jerks, chasing around and throwing drinks on each other.

Richie Cruz had a girlfriend now. It was horrible but true. The two of them came into the mall a couple times a week, the girlfriend probably dragging him there so he could buy her stuff. They didn't know the girlfriend's name but she was Puerto Rican like Richie. Which was so unfair, since no matter how hard Janice tried, she was not ever going to be Puerto Rican!

Here they were again. Janice and Marilee watched them walk through the squares of glittering light from the glass walls, super slow, like they were a parade, the two of them waving from a float, see how we're all the way up here and you're down there. Richie! Easy on his feet, yawning like he just woke up, his green eyes half-slit. His black T-shirt stuck to his shoulder blades, it was so hot outside. Janice wanted to peel that damp shirt off him like the petals of a silk rose, send her cool breath across the muscles of his back.

The girlfriend said something that had the look of complaining: Why wasn't Richie paying her more attention, admiring her giant boobs or her ten pounds of makeup?

“She is so hoochie,” Janice said. It was the most awful wrong thing, seeing this girl with him, the two of them together. She wanted to jump up and scream and rub the sight of them away.

“Look at that, she has her hands in his back pockets,” Marilee said. “I mean, honestly.”

“She seriously should not be doing that.”

“I bet they have all kinds of sex.”

“Well of course they do, duh!”

“You don't have to bite my head off,” Marilee said. She was painting her fingernails yellow and holding each one up to admire it.

How could Richie not notice her, not know one thing about her, when she was so crazy with feeling, she was afraid of flying through the air at him like iron to a magnet?

Janice watched the girlfriend and pretended not to. She wished she had some secret superpower, like making people burst into flames. The girlfriend was extra extra hoochie. She wore a lot of gold jewelry, earrings and bracelets and some dangly stuff around her neck. She was busting out of her clothes in a horrible cheap way.

Marilee said that guys got bored with girls like that, once they got what they wanted off them. Janice didn't bother answering back. Marilee was boring herself. Richie Cruz's girlfriend made a pouty face and said something to him, then crossed the black-and-white tiles of the food court on her way to the bathroom. Her shoes had high heels and she took little bitty steps.

Janice said, “You know what she looks like? One of those foo-foo dogs on a leash, the kind with bows in its hair.”

“Those little dogs are actually sort of cute,” Marilee said.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, you want to be Richie's pet bitch.”

“Oh screw you.” Janice stood up. “I'll be back in a minute.”

“What are you doing?” Marilee asked, but Janice ignored her.
Go for it! Geronimo!

Richie Cruz was leaning against a wall, waiting, like he was used to it. His girlfriend probably spent a lot of time in the bathroom, putting on makeup and yanking underwear out of her butt. He yawned, a big gorgeous yawn that showed all his teeth.

Janice walked black square white square, black square white square, right past Richie. She couldn't look at him straight on, any more than you could look straight at the sun. But even with her eyes down she saw the creases in his jeans where they fit so good, she saw his hands with the thumbs hooked into the pockets. And he was watching her! He was!

She reached the Karmelkorn place and stood in front of it like she had some serious decision to make. Caramel caramel caramel, like Richie's skin. She bought a bag of popcorn and walked past him again, slower this time, putting pieces in her mouth and licking her fingers.

“I do not believe you,” Marilee said, once Janice sat back down.

“Want some?” She shook the bag at Marilee.

“What were you doing?”

“Showing off my goodies.” She was giddy. Her heart beat crazy. She watched the hoochie girlfriend make her way back from the restroom, feeling almost even with her now.

Marilee twisted the top shut on the nail polish with an extra hard tug. “That was so trashy.”

“Yeah, well your fingernails look like they rotted and fell off.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Forget about it.” Janice watched Richie and the girlfriend slow-walking out of the food court. The giddy feeling ebbed out of her. It hadn't been anything, she was so stupid, and now she'd messed up and it wasn't how the story was supposed to go.

—

Richie wants to go all the way,
she told Geronimo. Even this late, it never really cooled off upstairs. She had the fan going but the heat hunkered down in the walls and didn't budge.

Well of course he duz. He is a man and u r a beautiful young lady.

I just don't know.

Geronimo was growing a beard, one of those soul patch things. It was like the tuft of hair he combed straight up, like he kept thinking of weird things to do to his face. He had all the lights in his room off so there was only the computer screen and its blurry glow.

Whats there to know? Just do what comes natural.