Cranberry Lane Page 4

  “Ma, what are you even talking about?”

  “I’m not doing good takin’ care of my baby. I mean, look at us! We live in a shit hole and you’re out selling drugs to try to make ends meet and now some asshole put his hands on you.” She sobbed.

  I sighed. “I’m okay. I promise! A nice man actually helped me out and made sure I got home safely last night.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  “No, Ma. Nothing happened. He just walked me home is all. And the bruises will go away in no time,” I tried to comfort her.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For not being able to give you the life you deserve.”

  My heart broke for her. Sure, we lived in a crappy apartment in an even worse neighborhood, but one thing I never went without was love. Some kids grow up in huge houses and never want for anything, but their parents don’t give ‘em any kinds of love. Although, a tiny voice inside my head reminded me that I deserved a mother who would comfort me more than I’d have to comfort her. Life was too damn complicated.

  “We’ll be okay, Ma. We have each other and that’s all that matters.”

  She sniffled. “Look at this mess.”

  “You go and lay down. I’ll take care of it and make us a new breakfast, okay?”

  “You’re too good to me,” Ma said.

  “Someone’s gotta do it.” I winked.

  I helped her get up and walked her to the bedroom so she could take a break and rest. I noticed she struggled even more to walk and I hoped her hip wasn’t getting worse.

  “You just relax. I’ll take care of everything,” I promised.

  Ma kissed me on the cheek and nodded.

  I went back to the kitchen and started cleaning up the mess. The grease from the frying pan had already started to solidify. I grabbed the last sponge we had, covered the floor with our Dollar Tree anti-grease soap and started scrubbing.

  Once I was satisfied I’d done the best I could do, I started making more breakfast. We were out of bacon now, so I settled on whipping up some scrambled eggs and toast. That’ll be easy.

  As I stirred the eggs, someone knocked rapidly on our door.

  “Who is it?” I called out.

  No answer.

  What the fuck.

  “Who is it?” I called out again.

  No answer.

  I sighed dramatically and went to answer the door. It’d better be someone good.

  “Serenity! You’re okay!” Joey burst inside.

  “Joey, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to check in on you. You never answered my calls last night.”

  “I was tired,” I said nonchalantly.

  “Well, I heard some dude assaulted a girl last night at Mickey’s and I was wondering if it was you,” he said as he eyes found the bruises on my neck. “Oh, my God!”

  I pushed him away when he tried to pull me in for a hug. I could smell the booze on his breath. He’d had a liquid breakfast this morning. Or, he was still tanked from the night before. Not that it was hard for Joey to catch a buzz; he weighed little more than me, but stood a good five or six inches taller. A soft gust of wind could knock him down sideways.

  “Joey, stop. I’m fine. It was nothing.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothin’! Who did this to you? I’ll kill ‘em!” he slurred.

  “No, you won’t. Stop it.” I rolled my eyes.

  He tried pulling me into him again and I put my arms in front of me. “Joey, please. I’m trying to make breakfast for Ma. Can you come back another time?”

  “Why won’t you let me take care of you?” he pouted.

  “Because, I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I’m a big girl.”

  “Not big enough to stop someone from strangling you!” he yelled.

  “Serenity!” Ma called out.

  “Great. Now you woke up my mom. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Why won’t you let me in? I just want to be there for you.”

  “I know you do, but right now is not a good time,” I said. “Everything’s fine, Ma. Breakfast will be ready in ten!”

  “You know, if you’re so hell bent on being independent, maybe we shouldn’t be friends,” Joey said finally with his nose raised in the air.

  I’d heard this speech before and even when Joey tried to end things between us, he always took it back a few hours later.

  “Joey, please just go. I’m busy.”

  “Yeah, all right. Whatever. See if I care.” He walked out and slammed the door.

  Idiot.

  “Okay, Ma. Breakfast is ready!”

  11

  Wayne

  I woke to the sounds of Sammy getting ready for school. The TV roared from the living room and I smelled the sweet scent of pancakes on the griddle. Sometimes, I wondered who really took care of whom.

  I stumbled out of bed, threw on a clean black tee shirt and went to take a piss.

  “Mornin’,” Sammy said.

  “You almost ready?”

  “Yeah, I just figured we’d eat a quick breakfast together.”

  I smiled. Sammy loved family breakfast time. I didn’t cook as often as I should, so he taught himself how to make pancakes and a few times a week, we’d get up earlier and spend some time together before I drove him to school.

  “Sounds good to me. What’s on the menu for this morning?”

  “Blueberry pancakes,” he said proudly.

  “Oh, la la. Shakin’ it up a bit, I see?”

  “Yeah, and I used whole wheat flour this time.”

  I crinkled my nose.

  “It’s healthier, Wayne,” Sammy said knowingly.

  “Yeah, I bet.”

  “Any update on tonight?”

  “Not sure, buddy. I haven’t heard if I’ve got a job or not.”

  Sammy looked at me nervously.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Have you ever thought about maybe trying to find a different job?”

  I smiled. “Of course, but what I do now pays the bills.”

  “Maybe you could start working at the garage full time?”

  “Don’t worry about it, okay, Sammy? Everything’s okay.”

  “Well, I just don’t want anything to happen to you is all.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, ruffling his hair. “You just focus on tonight’s game, okay?”

  “Okay.” He smiled.

  We ate our pancakes and I asked him more about school and which classes were his favorite. Sammy wanted to become an architect and luckily, his school offered a few drafting classes. Some of the buildings around here had excellent structure. You’d never know, though with all the broken windows and chipped paint.

  Sammy took our plates to the sink and rinsed them off. Not only did the kid cook for me, but he did the dishes, too.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Yep,” he said, grabbing his backpack.

  “Let’s hit it.”

  Sammy went to school across town. I cashed in a couple favors to make sure he went to East instead of West. I’d gone to West and well, look how I turned out. I know some of the kids around here gave Sammy shit for going to the “rich school”, but he didn’t mind. He’d made some good friends at East and from the looks of it, he’d even gotten himself a girlfriend.

  “I’ll text you about tonight, okay?”

  “Okay, Wayne.”

  “Have a good day, kid.” I waved goodbye.

  I drove home and held my breath as I parked and walked over to the complex’s mailboxes. It’d been a week or so since I had a job and I figured I might be due for a new assignment. As inconspicuously as possible, I reached under the mailbox for my unit and felt around. My stomach dropped as I felt it; a burner phone duct taped to the bottom.

  I ripped the phone away from the mailbox, stuffed it into my back pocket and went inside. Now, all I had to do was wait for the phone to ring and take note of my instructions.

  “Hello?�
�

  “Tonight. Blue Bird Circle. Number 23. Alone.” The line went dead.

  Looked like I wouldn’t make it to Sammy’s game after all.

  12

  Serenity

  Even though I’d graduated from high school almost two years ago, I still went to the Friday night football games. Why? High school kids love to buy drugs. Tonight’s game started at seven and I estimated I’d make about five hundred dollars; that was enough to make rent.

  I went to West and even then, I’d been surprised we had a football team. We weren’t half bad either. It’s not every day a slum city has a halfway decent sports team. Most of the kids were in the gangs around here, but played football in hopes to get out some day.

  The East kids, on the other hand, they just played for something to do. When Mommy and Daddy went on business trips, they’d throw huge house parties after the football games. They were meant for just the East kids, but us West kids snuck in from time to time. I’d lost my virginity to Joey at one of those East parties; I’d been fourteen at the time.

  Tonight would be a good night; I could feel it. I’d go to the game, scope out the kids I knew were sniffin’ around for some product, then I’d see where they planned on going after the game ended. If they were going to a party, I’d go with them. And then, the fun would begin.

  “Serenity, remind me again why you go to the high school games?”

  “I told you, Ma. High school kids make for the best clients. They’re desperate to score and willing to spend their parents’ money on anything.”

  Ma scoffed and turned up her nose.

  “You have a better way to make rent?”

  “No,” she said sourly.

  “Well, then let me do my thing.”

  “You’re awful,” she said as a smile peeked through her hardened face.

  “I’m not sure when I’ll be home tonight, so don’t wait up. Okay?”

  “Yeah, all right,” she said.

  “I’ll have my phone on me. Give me a call if you need anything. Love you!”

  I heard her reciprocate as I walked out of our apartment and headed to the bus lines. As I walked down Cranberry Lane to Evergreen Street, the main road in town, I saw a few guys sitting on their stoops watching me closely.

  Even though I still pictured myself as a tough chick, last night rattled my cage a little. I picked up the pace and grasped the Swiss Army knife in my pocket.

  I heard some whistles erupt from a few windows down the lane and I promptly put up my middle finger.

  “Hey, Serenity! Why don’t you come up here and show me what you want to do with that finger!” One guy called out.

  “Fuck off,” I spouted.

  Thankfully, I’d reached Evergreen Street without any other problems. The bus was only a few blocks away, so I wouldn’t have to wait too long. In about an hour, I’d be entering the gates at the football game ready to make some bank and move my prime product.

  13

  Wayne

  I spent the entire day getting ready for tonight’s job. I took a vigorous shower and scrubbed my skin raw to rid my body of any dry skin I could potentially leave at the scene. I trimmed my beard, which I’d noticed had several more gray hairs than before.

  I laid out my uniform: black long-sleeved tee, black jeans, black ski mask, generic plastic gloves, and my plastic booties I’d wear over my steel-toed boots. None of these items were traceable. They’d all been bought with cash, at separate stores on different days. Hundreds if not thousands of these products were sold in the state, I imagined.

  The police in this town were good, but I was better. I’d never been caught. Not even close. One of my favorite things about the job is watching law enforcement squirm after the murder to try to figure out whodunnit. Sometimes, the jobs were pinned on others. A normal person might be overwhelmed with guilt, however, many of the people pinned down were low-life thugs, anyway. I’d done a service to the community by getting these guys off the streets. I practically needed a cape and a too tight spandex outfit.

  I texted Sammy earlier to let him know I wouldn’t make the game, but that I’d take him out afterward for celebratory ice cream. I knew I’d disappointed him, but eventually, he’d thank me when he had his entire college tuition paid off. Hopefully.

  The clock read eight p.m. and I knew it was just about go time. I packed my bag with my “uniform” and put on plain clothes for the ride to the job. I didn’t want to bring any suspicion upon myself before I’d gotten a chance to get close to my target.

  I’d have to take public transportation to this suburban community. I never drove my own car. I couldn’t risk someone spotting the car or the license plate leaving the scene of a crime. It was another “t” I had to cross and an “i” I had to dot. I couldn’t make any mistakes, otherwise it all would be for nothing and Sammy would be put into foster care, or worse, sent back to our Mom and Dad’s.

  With my backpack packed and my gun, also untraceable, in my back holster, I was ready to set out and find the poor bastard who was about to live their last hour or so on Earth.

  I walked about five or so blocks to the subway which would take me to the edge of the city. I bought a ticket with cash and took a seat by an elderly woman I’d helped step onto the train. No one would look at me twice after helping an old woman. They’d think I was a hero. Then, I took out my infamous head-turner novel, The Notebook, and made sure to have the cover visible. Again, who would suspect the guy reading this shit of any potential wrongdoing.

  Once the subway train reached the end of its route and my stop, I wished the older woman a great day and exited. I climbed the steep steps from underground to the surface and hailed down a rusted cab to take me within a mile of the address I had memorized. Again, I wouldn’t want any record of a cab taking someone to a crime scene before the crime had taken place. I’d done this for a long time and made sure to cover my tracks, always.

  The cab driver didn’t make any small talk and I was grateful. In a half hour, I’d be pulling out my gun and ending someone’s life. I needed to focus and think of Sammy. I needed to remember why this was all worth it.

  I tipped the driver and started making the trek to twenty-three Blue Bird Circle. Again, I’d made sure to cover my tracks and look up directions on the physical map I owned of the state. Couldn’t have my internet history used to trace my search to the address.

  Once on the street, I made sure my gait matched a man who knew where he was going, and even lived on the street. I was a man going for an evening stroll in a beautiful neighborhood. I even waved to a few residents outside watering their gardens. Sure, it might be risky to show my face to the neighbors, but I needed them not to suspect me. I needed them to think I belonged in the area.

  I scanned the vibrant numbers on each two-story house in the development. Most of the houses had luxury SUV’s or mini-vans in the driveways. Many houses had basketball hoops and chalk drawings across the pavement.

  Finally, I’d reached number twenty-three. I glanced around to see if anyone had taken any further interest into my presence on Blue Bird Circle; no one watched me. Luckily, the house had a lush backyard with no fences, so I crept back there to change outfits. I stowed my backpack in one of the bushes with my plain clothes and pulled my mask over my face.

  Just as I tested the back door to see if it was locked or not, a baby’s wail came from the house and I knew my target wasn’t alone.

  14

  Serenity

  “Ten dollars please,” the attendant at the gate asked me.

  “What? Since when did you start charging to get into the Friday Night games?” I retorted angrily.

  “Since the city council cut our budget. You goin’ to pay or not, lady?”

  I shoved ten crinkled singles into the attendant’s hand and let him stamp my wrist. Now, I’d have to up the price for some of my product to make up for my entry fee.

  This city is a shit hole.

  I climbed up the bleachers and scope
d out the sloppy teens who’d presumably want to buy from me. A few rows below, a group of about seven or eight teens laughed hysterically and swayed in the breeze like autumn leaves.

  I scooched down a row to sit closer to them and started eavesdropping.

  “Yo, what are we doing after this?” one of the tipsy teens asked the group.

  “I don’t know. I heard Evan is having a party,” a girl with perfectly shiny hair said.

  “Are his parents going to be home? Last time they made us all leave before midnight,” another groaned.

  “Nah. I think they are out of town at some dentist convention,” the same girl snickered.

  I cleared my throat. “Hey!”

  The group didn’t hear me. I stretched and kicked one of the guys drinking what was probably liquor from his Pepsi bottle.

  “Hey!” I said again.

  “Yo, what the fuck?”

  I smiled sweetly. “Do you need any party favors for Evan’s?” I had no idea who Evan was.

  A few more curious kids turned around and the girls stared at me with poisonous glares.

  The one teen came up to sit next to me, his Pepsi bottle in tow. “What cha got?”

  “What do you want?” I put my hand subtly on his thigh and a smile erupted across his face.

  “You got any green?”

  “No, but I have something better.” I flashed him a baggie of my prime coke product inside my bag.

  “How much?” he asked carefully.

  “A hundo and an invite to Evan’s party.”

  The boy looked at me suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not ripping me off and selling me baby powder or some shit?”

  “I’ll let you take a test drive if you want?” I offered.

  His eyes lit up. “Okay!”

  “Well, we can’t do it right here. Let’s go take a walk,” I offered.

  He raised his eyebrows and his smile grew even wider.

  “Just for you to test the product,” I warned.