Authors: Richard Scrimger
His smile returned like springtime.
“Yes, it is.”
N
ext morning I got up before anyone else in the house. The kitchen clock said 8:45. I could almost have been on time for school, if there was any school. A hot day already. Rumble of distant thunder. Made me smile to think how much Cassie was going to complain about it. I didn’t mind the heat. I took a deep breath of it, heading out the door.
I still must have been smiling when I got to Roncy because a baba – black kerchief, sweater, cane – grinned up at me. Two teeth in her mouth, both as yellow as corn. She said something in Polish.
“You bet,” I said.
A lazy hornet buzzed around the plum display at the K Fruit Store this morning. I watched it for a sec. Hornets are cool but kind of scary. They seem so laid-back and droopy, barely enough energy to fly around, and then they go crazy and start stinging you. I picked a nectarine from the top of a neat pyramid and went to the back of the store to pay. Mr. K was not in charge of the cash register today. A kid – maybe his son or nephew – sat behind the cash register, reading a comic book in Korean.
This was my chance. I held out all the money in my pocket and told him I didn’t want any change.
He frowned. “Why not?”
“The guy who runs this store lent me some money yesterday,” I said. “I told him I’d pay it back. You just put this … thirty-seven dollars in the till and call it square.”
Kid was my age. He put down the comic and stared at me through his wire-rimmed glasses “You talking about
Harabujee
?” he said. At least that’s what the word sounded like. “My
grandfather
gave you money?”
“I dunno,” I said. “Skinny old guy who’s always here.”
“Yeah that’s
Harabujee
. But I don’t get it. He’s always talking about how hard he works. And how lazy everyone else is. Hell, he doesn’t pay me. There’s no way he’d just give you money.”
The hornet drifted back. Or maybe it was another hornet. Anyway, it was buzzing in lazy circles around my head. I felt the situation getting out of control. I pushed the cash at the kid. “Take it,” I said.
“If
Harabujee
gave you that money, you still have to pay for the nectarine.”
“Forget the nectarine. I’ll put it back. Take the cash, okay?”
“Just let me check.” He turned his head and shouted something over his shoulder, into the room at the back of the store.
The hornet was hovering near me. I took a step back.
“Don’t bother to check,” I said. “How about if I –”
Mr. K showed up, wiping his mouth. He smiled politely at me and then said something quick and sharp in Korean. His grandson started to explain, but Mr. K
shook his head after three seconds. THAT IS RIDICULOUS! he said. (I don’t
know
if he said that, but that’s sure what it sounded like.)
“That’s what I thought,
Harabujee
,” said the kid. “Which is why I –”
Mr. K interrupted, talking faster and faster. And getting angry. Not at me, though – at his grandson. He talked right over the kid’s explanations.
“But I
wasn’t
overcharging him,
Harabujee
,” he said. “He wanted to … He … He offered …”
Mr. K never even stopped to breathe.
I tried to say something, but they both ignored me.
The hornet landed on the top of the cash register and sat there, stretching its wings gently.
Mr. K had the comic book in his hand now, shaking it in the kid’s face.
“Yes,
Harabujee
,” he said. He had his head down now. He’d given up. “I know I shouldn’t be reading this.”
I turned and walked out, carefully replacing the nectarine on the top of the pyramid. More hornets were buzzing around. One of the plums had burst, I noticed, and the insects were enjoying the flesh and juice. The cash went back into my pocket. Mr. K’s voice rose behind me like a bird in flight.
I walked down to Galley Avenue. This time I went west, checking laneways and on-street parking on the south side. No blue Pontiacs, no slender teenaged girls. But when I got back to Roncy I caught sight of a familiar figure a block down, waiting at the streetcar stop. Something about
the way this kid held himself, leaning forward and a bit hesitant. Was it Lloyd? His hair was the right ginger color. I was about to call out, but a streetcar arrived and he got on. That was that.
I was hungry. I’d eaten some puffed wheat at home, but we’d run out of sugar, and without sugar puffed wheat is not really breakfast. It is barely cereal. And I still had thirty-seven dollars in my pocket. One good thing about Roncy is that you are never far from a donut shop. Crossing the street, I looked both ways. I was paying for my double-double and honey cruller when someone hit me from behind. It was Sparks, alone. I was surprised. I’ve seen Cap without him, but not the other way round.
“You Jim?” He wore a sleeveless shirt to show his cantaloupe biceps.
“Me Jim,” I said, like Tarzan. “You Sparks.”
He didn’t get it. He frowned, his one eyebrow bending in the middle.
“You sure? You sound like Jim, but you don’t look like him.”
Sparks is not the quickest cockroach in the race.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I know who I am.”
“Cap wants to see you.” Doubtfully. “If you’re really Jim.”
“Great,” I said. “I’ve been looking for Cap too.” Raf hadn’t called, which meant that he hadn’t been home to see the sign by his door. Cap would know where he was. “What’s going on at Jerry’s? How come the store is closed?”
Sparks frowned.
“You come with me. Okay?”
“ ’Kay.”
“We’ll see Cap.”
“Got it.”
No point in discussing things with Sparks. He wouldn’t understand. He’d do what he was told – bring me to Cap if he saw me. And anyway he was the size of a small building. He could have carried me over his shoulder like a baby.
T
he sun was surrounded by clouds that looked like dumplings – they even seemed heavy, like they would weigh on your stomach if you ate them. We walked up Roncy and down Geoffrey, Sparks at my elbow. Moms with strollers and off-shift workers with cigarettes and shopping bags stayed out of our way. I kept my head down, in case I ran into Marcie. If you’re asking was I ashamed of being seen with Sparks, the answer is yes. I didn’t want the first girl I’d ever kissed to know the old piece-of-crap side of me.
We didn’t see her.
Cap lived on Sorauren, in an old factory that had been divided into units. His place was on the second floor, a huge triangle-shaped room. TV room, kitchen, bedroom in the three corners, with enough empty floor space in the middle to play tennis. Kind of cool. Sparks let himself in. Cap was on the couch watching a Nas video. Sparks handed him a coffee and a chocolate donut and kept another for himself.
“This guy here is Jim,” he said. “I think.”
“So he is,” said Cap. “You look horrible, Jim. Like a cancer kid.”
He turned down the sound. The video kept playing in the background. I stood in front of him, smiling to show I knew it was a joke. Cancer is hilarious, all right.
“But you’re back, and that’s the main thing. I saw you get run over, you know.” Cap took a sip of coffee, grimaced. “I was on the street with Sparks here when you went under that car. I was like, Gee that’s too bad about Jim. We were upset, weren’t we, Sparks?”
Sparks and I didn’t say anything. We knew Cap was lying.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here now. I want to talk to you about our friend Rafal. Your partner.”
Cap took a delicate bite of donut. The video played in the background, Nas and The Game trading lines. I stayed silent. Cap was going to tell me what I wanted to know.
“Raf’s in jail,” said Cap. “Arrested on the scene, and they still haven’t let him out. Pineview Youth Detention Center, out in Etobicoke. I talked to his lawyer about the charges. Raf’s still a minor, and joyriding is a misdemeanor. You wouldn’t think there’d be a problem.”
Cap gestured for me to come closer. I leaned down and he spoke right near my ear. “But the cops aren’t talking about joyriding. This is Raf’s second arrest. The cops figure he’s part of a major car-theft ring. The lawyer’s worried for me.”
“Why’s Raf’s lawyer worried for
you
?”
Cap drank coffee. “Because I’m paying him. He’s my lawyer.”
“But you’re not in jail.”
“Not yet I’m not. And I don’t want to go. Neither does Jerry. That’s why he’s in the Bahamas now.” Cap poked a finger at me. “What about you, Jim? You were at the scene.
They’ll have your fingerprints. D’you want to go to jail?”
“No.”
“ ’Course you don’t. You’re a smart guy. So here’s what you do. You go to Pineview to visit Raf, and you tell him not to say anything, no matter what the cops promise him. Can you do that?”
Cap handed his empty coffee cup to Sparks.
“See, Jim, the cops really want the car thieves. They might offer Raf a deal. They might tell him he’ll go free if he says who he’s working for. I don’t want that. I do not want my name showing up on police files. I do not want any talk about me or Jerry. Do you understand?”
Sparks gave a small squeak, like a mouse asking for a piece of cheese.
“Or Sparks. Or any of us here.” Cap gave me a smile so creepy I wanted to give it back without opening it. “We’re a family, and family don’t sell each other to the cops. Right, Jim?”
The video was over. Nas showed his scarred back to the camera.
“I’ll talk to Raf,” I said.
“Good boy.”
I took a deep breath. “But I want to make something clear, Cap. I’m out.”
“Out? Out of what?”
“The gang. Whatever we are at Jerry’s. You and Sparks and the guys in the garage. I’ll tell Raf what you said about talking to the cops. I’ll do that for you. But nothing else. I won’t be coming round Jerry’s store. You
don’t have to worry about me asking questions anymore. I don’t want to know anything. I don’t want to work for you ever again.”
I still had a half-f coffee cup in my hand. It was cold by now.
“I nearly died last week, Cap,” I said. “I know things I didn’t used to. I know what pieces of crap we are. And all that stuff about us being family – I know that’s crap too. I saw you and Sparks laughing while I was lying in the middle of the road. Don’t ask me how, but I did. You didn’t care about me, and you don’t care about Raf. All you care about is you. Well, screw you, Cap. And –”
“
Watch out!”
I knew that voice. I ducked as soon as I heard it. Sparks’s punch went over my head.
H
e swung so hard that he lost his balance, stumbling past me and ending up on his knees.
“And screw you too, Sparks,” I said.
Cap swore quietly. My coffee cup had ended up in his lap. He stood up, holding his pants away from his skin.
“Leave him alone,” he said to Sparks, who was back on his feet with his fist cocked.
I was safe enough for now. They still needed me to talk to Raf. What I wanted was to stay safe afterwards. And I had an idea about that. Instead of leaving, I lifted my head and spoke to the ghost in the three-piece suit.