Part 39 (2/2)

He held it closer, studying it. ”I'm thinking . . . I'm thinking how lucky this little girl is because pretty soon she's going to have you with her every day for the rest of her life.”

For a moment neither one spoke or looked at the other. ”Thank you,” she finally said.

He nodded and held out the picture.

”No, that's yours to keep. I have another one,” she lied.

After work she drove straight to his house. The watering can wasn't on the back steps or in the garage. Probably stolen, Probably stolen, she thought, trying to keep the hose low while she counted to sixty, though it was too late. Her first explosive aim had already drenched the bush. Next, she sprayed the leaves with Gordon's soapy mixture. He hadn't told her how much to use, probably the whole bottle if it was weekly. By the time she was done, bubbles floated everywhere, fat and s.h.i.+mmering on the wet leaves, across the weedy yards, down the street. Working the fertilizer into the soil was quick but messy. She stood up, knees, hands, and feet muddied, her cloth sandals probably ruined. She should have changed first. Using the pruner, she cut the fullest blooms. She rinsed her scratched, stinging hands under the hose, then gathered up the cut flowers. What was the pleasure in that? she wondered, slamming the trunk shut. She glanced back at the twisted hose. Why coil it back up on the hanger when she'd just have to take it down again? She patted her arms dry with a tissue. The scratches stung, but it was a good hurt. she thought, trying to keep the hose low while she counted to sixty, though it was too late. Her first explosive aim had already drenched the bush. Next, she sprayed the leaves with Gordon's soapy mixture. He hadn't told her how much to use, probably the whole bottle if it was weekly. By the time she was done, bubbles floated everywhere, fat and s.h.i.+mmering on the wet leaves, across the weedy yards, down the street. Working the fertilizer into the soil was quick but messy. She stood up, knees, hands, and feet muddied, her cloth sandals probably ruined. She should have changed first. Using the pruner, she cut the fullest blooms. She rinsed her scratched, stinging hands under the hose, then gathered up the cut flowers. What was the pleasure in that? she wondered, slamming the trunk shut. She glanced back at the twisted hose. Why coil it back up on the hanger when she'd just have to take it down again? She patted her arms dry with a tissue. The scratches stung, but it was a good hurt.

The next time she came, she tried not to wet the leaves, but somehow they were soaked again. What difference could it possibly make? They'd get a lot wetter when it rained. She turned off the water. She had to get home and sand the dresser before the second coat.

”Hi,” said a voice from behind.

”Oh!” she gasped. ”Jada, you scared me.” The girl just stood there with her hands in her pockets. ”So what's going on?” Delores said as she yanked the muddy hose into a pile. ”How've you been? I haven't seen you in a while.”

”I saw you. You were out here the other day, too.” Jada's eyes shone flat, the way light hits a mirror.

”Yeah, I told Gordon I'd do this, but it's not my thing. Look at my hands, look what his roses did. They attacked me,” she said, trying to laugh.

”He's still in jail, huh?” Jada asked, following her to the car.

”Yes, I'm afraid so.” Delores got in.

”You think he did it?” Jada asked through the window.

”No. Of course not.”

”Well, he didn't,” the girl said as if she hadn't heard her.

”Do you know who did?”

Jada shook her head.

”How do you know it wasn't him, then?”

”Because. Because I just know. Gordon, he wouldn't do that. He'd get mad, but he'd never, like, do anything.”

”Yeah, like the night I let you in, why'd he get so mad? What was that all about?”

The girl's answer was a weary shrug. She asked Delores where she was going. An appointment, Delores lied. She could tell Jada wanted something. ”Well, I better get going.” She started the engine, but Jada moved closer to the window.

”You live on Lowell Street, right?”

”Yes, why?”

”Remember you said I could come there sometime?”

”Yes, uh-huh.” What if she showed up during the home study interview?

”Well, I was over there, near your house, I think, but I didn't know which one it was, what number.”

”Well, we'll have to do that. I'll come get you sometime.” She s.h.i.+fted into gear and started slowly ahead. ”See you!” She waved out the window but stared straight ahead so she wouldn't have to see Jada still watching her drive away. At the corner she glanced back. Jada was crossing the street. Sometimes you just have to keep going, Sometimes you just have to keep going, the voice a.s.sured her. the voice a.s.sured her. You have to help yourself first. She's not your responsibility. The world is filled with girls like her. n.o.body else is breaking their neck to help her so why should you? You have to help yourself first. She's not your responsibility. The world is filled with girls like her. n.o.body else is breaking their neck to help her so why should you?

She pulled into her parking s.p.a.ce and turned off the engine but couldn't get out of the car, didn't have will enough or strength. Why did there have to be such pain in the world? ”Why? Why?” Her fist made a dull thud on the wheel. Why, when she was so close to fulfillment, was there this emptiness, this loss, as if the child had been already plucked from her arms? The rusty fire escape on her building spanned four stories but ended on the second floor. In a fire, the only way down to the street would be to jump. ”Unsafe emergency egress,” the home study worker would surely note in the report. It wasn't just adultery and a convicted killer in her life, but knives in the kitchen, scalding water in faucets, loose treads on the stairs, trucks that tipped over, tornadoes in the night, rabid bats in the attic, stray bullets, toxins in the water, in the air, and all the invisible hazards of loving too much, trying too hard, and never knowing what was enough or when to stop.

Jada opened a c.o.ke and lit another joint. Nothing hurt this way, not even hunger or fear. But here she was safe between the two doors as long as she could keep them closed, one leading into the street, the other into that silence where the mound under the sheets was her whole life. At first she kept checking in the hope it was another drug-deep stupor and when it wore off her mother would begin to stir. Except for last night's buy, Jada had spent most of the last few days sleeping on the couch. Every time she tried to think about walking to Uncle Bob's, she got exhausted and fell back to sleep.

She crawled back onto the couch. Pretty soon she'd have to tell someone. Delores had taken off too fast, as if she knew and didn't want to be told. There was enough food for a couple more days. She wondered how much a bus ticket to Florida cost. She could always sell the extra crack. She figured she had sixty dollars' worth, anyway. She had packed some clothes in an old suitcase Inez had thrown out. But leaving took more energy than she had right now, even though she knew she had to get far away before Social Services got here.

Someone was banging on the door. Polie. Last night she had almost told him, but then she'd been afraid of what he might do to her, so she went downtown like nothing was wrong and pa.s.sed some rocks for them. She opened the window instead of the door. ”What is it?” She leaned dizzily on the sill.

”You gotta come. Ronnie just got a call.” He gestured back at the idling Navigator.

”I can't.”

”Twenty-five bucks he says he'll give you.”

”Where?”

”The South Common.”

”Forget it.” She closed the window and locked it. She'd almost been arrested there last time. That's how little she was worth. Better her than their other runners. He was banging on the window. A long, white car pulled up behind the Navigator. Polie was yelling for her to come out, there wasn't much time. Delores came up the steps behind him. He spun around. Jada pressed her ear to the door.

”What's wrong?” Delores demanded in a high tone.

”What the h.e.l.l do you care?”

”I'm a friend of Jada's,” Delores said, and Jada's grin felt as if part of her face were leaking down the door. ”Is she in there?”

”Look, just get outta here, will ya?”

”Are you serious?” Delores laughed.

”I gotta talk to her about something important.”

”Well, so do I!”

<script>