Part 10 (1/2)

Agnes ladled a bit of the stew into my bowl. ”I don't think it's important. I just figure he sees us like a family. He's never had a real family.”

The garage door lifted. Agnes flinched. Manny and Ricky ducked underneath the door. They were both soaked. With his foot, Ricky lowered the garage door behind them.

”What's for dinner?” Manny asked.

Agnes went to the shelf above the hot plate and brought down two more bowls. ”Dry yourselves off.” Manny grabbed a chunk of bread. I caught his wrist, squeezed hard. He dropped the bread onto the table.

”It's okay, Antonio,” Agnes said. ”There's enough for all of us.”

”Is she kicking yet?” Ricky asked.

Agnes put her hand on her belly and blew a long bang off her face.

”You know the baby's a girl?” I asked.

”For sure,” Ricky whispered.

Manny had sat in the rocking chair, adjusted the handle, kicked up his heels to the wall before gently rocking. ”When is it coming?” Manny asked.

”February, late Feb-”

”You think it'll be normal?” Manny interrupted.

The way Agnes looked at him made it clear that she didn't need James to protect her.

I'd be lying if I hadn't wondered the same thing. Manny said the best we could hope for was a baby born cross-eyed or r.e.t.a.r.ded or a hemophiliac, which was really bad because if it got cut or bruised it would bleed to death. I knew Senhor Batista was her stepfather, so there was no chance they were mixing blood. But when I thought of him mounting her-the hole in his throat wheezing as his breath misted over her face-I couldn't help but think of the crazy stories my grandmother told me about back home: Senhora Xica, who had been warned not to kill a chicken while pregnant, she gave birth to a baby that was half-human, half-chicken. It fluttered and banged its head under the kitchen table for an hour after it was born, until it died from exhaustion, my grandmother had told me with tears in her eyes. Or the story of another pregnant lady, who picked up a cat, then her baby was born completely covered in fur. Or another, who refused to listen to all the women in the village about wearing necklaces while pregnant, only to give birth to a stillborn, its umbilical cord tied neatly around its neck.

I marched over toward Manny, thought if I was close enough and needed to I could kick him in the teeth.

Just then James lifted the garage door. Manny stopped rocking. The hollows around James's eyes were grey and soft. He placed a jug of milk on the table and lightly ran his hand across Agnes's belly. She let her shoulders roll back.

”Manny, do something useful-fix that rocking chair for Agnes.”

Agnes climbed up the ladder to the loft, her slippers slapping against her heels.

Manny hesitated for only a second before going to the workbench and pulling the toolbox from underneath. He lit a cigarette and put it in his mouth, then got right down to work, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g in loose spindles.

James yanked the lit cigarette from Manny's mouth and crumpled it in his bare hand. The smoke escaped between his clenched fingers. The cigarette fell to the floor. He sat down at the table. Manny refused to look at him. James grabbed a hunk of bread and tore at it with his teeth.

”I've got a job for you, Ricky,” he whispered.

”Is there anything I can do?” I offered. ”My parents won't be home for a bit.”

”This job's for Ricky.” He grabbed my thigh under the table. I couldn't stop the b.o.n.e.r that was beginning to press against my pants.

James let go of my leg and motioned for Ricky, who got up from his chair and came over to him. It was as if Ricky was waiting for a sign as James dunked some bread in the stew's sauce. Some gravy dribbled down his chin. ”I like the food your mom makes. It makes this place feel like home,” he said to me.

”I can get other things, you know. Wine, liquor, beer. People who can't pay money bring stuff like that when they come to the garage.” I crossed my legs under the table.

James turned to Ricky, who had been waiting expectantly, and cupped his hand to Ricky's ear. He whispered something that made Ricky's face light up.

”I know where my dad stashes his booze, so if-”

”I don't want you to steal from your family, Antonio,” James said. He squeezed my shoulder. ”I got Ricky a little job on the side, something that'll bring in a bit of cash. You need to be patient. I have another plan for you,” he said. I held my breath, tried hard not to let on he was hurting me.

- 4*

”IS YOUR FATHER HOME?” James said, standing at my front door.

At first I thought he was some kind of mirage. I hadn't slept well-the thought of what James had in store for me had kept me awake.

”What are you doing here?” I said. ”You can't be here.”

James stubbed his boot against the swinging door. ”Your father wanted to see me.”

”James! Come inside.” It was Friday morning, too early for my father to be in a happy mood, but he reached out his hand and James shook it. James wore a clean s.h.i.+rt and his jeans had a crease. He had shaved and had his hair parted down the side. ”You know James, Antonio.”

James held out his hand. I froze. I wasn't sure what was happening. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

”Antonio! Shake the man's hand. James is going to be the new driver for Rebelo and Son Ltd.”

James grinned. ”That's right, sir.” James looked straight at me. ”I can drive the heck out of anything, and I've been around trucks all my life. If you need the help, well.”

”That's good.” My father locked the door with the deadbolt. My father was much shorter than James but it didn't stop him from patting James on the back and guiding him toward the kitchen. ”My wife she working. I make the coffee. Antonio, go get ready for school.”

The morning sun warmed my back but my feet were cold on the ceramic tile. Had I missed something? I had overheard my father fighting with my mother in their bedroom a couple of nights back. My father had replaced all his stolen tools and my mother yelled that the dump truck still wasn't paid off, and my father wasn't helping matters by spending so much of his time in the garage. My father insisted he had a plan. At the kitchen door, James turned to me and winked. James had a plan too.

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. I had felt this way once before. Last winter my bike hit a patch of black ice on a busy street and slipped sideways. I hurt my wrist trying to break my fall, but all I kept thinking about were the cars and trucks that were behind me that could hit the same patch but they wouldn't be able to stop. I remember closing my eyes so tight my body shook. I think I prayed harder than I've ever prayed and was answered with a loud honk. It was all I needed to give me the time to drag my bike to the sidewalk.

I got dressed, slung my Adidas school bag over my shoulder, and headed out the door. I made it to Edite's in record time. I found her spare key where she told me it would be hidden. I needed a place to feel safe, which is what she said her apartment could be. Just as I was closing the door, I saw her stumbling into the kitchen.

”My dad hired him. James. He just came to our house and my dad gave him a job.”

”Take a breath, Antonio. It's okay.” Edite's hair was matted like a bird's nest. She hadn't washed her face. In the morning light the lines she had drawn around her lips and eyebrows were uneven. She touched the edge of her mouth where the lipstick smeared. She raised her hand to my forehead and I ducked.

”But what does he want?”

She stood at the kitchen counter. ”It won't be so bad, will it? You have nothing to hide?” Edite said. Again, the image of James appearing from a cloud of steam flashed in my head: bare-chested, drying his hair in a towel, his jeans unb.u.t.toned. ”You kids meet up and take care of each other. You're safe. I think that's all your mom and dad care about.”

”They don't know I go there, do they?”

”Relax.” She pulled out a cigarette. ”Antonio, look at me.” Edite grabbed my wrists and whipped them like reins. Her voice became calm and soft. ”I saw James yesterday at the bar and he told me your dad had asked him if he was interested in some work. Your dad says he can't keep up with all the calls. Ever since word's gotten around that you're a healer, he's been getting more business. Now he thinks he can run his little dog-and-pony show and have someone else take care of the real work for him.”

I wrenched my hands away. ”I gotta go to school.”

”Ah, look, Antonio. I didn't mean anything by it.”