Rellik
Page 3
“Here.” My mother pulled a stack of money from her back pocket and held it out.
“Where did you get this?” my grandmother asked, but my mom shoved the money into her hand and folded her fingers over the stack of bills.
“She can help you. She loves to help cook, and she picks up after herself. She’s a good kid, Ma. Just look at her.” My mother stretched out her arm in my direction, and my grandma’s expression softened momentarily before she glared back at my mother. “I just need a little time. Someone’s been leaving me messages, Ma. I think it’s Tommy.”
“I’ve always had to clean up your messes. The first time that man stepped through the door, your father should have put him to ground. God rest his soul.” She turned and made her way up the wooden steps into her apartment, gripping the railing to steady herself. “Always mixed up with the law. Do you even care how the neighbors look at me? Of course you don’t. You only care about yourself.”
My mother spun around and pulled open my door, a fresh reassuring smile on her face as she reached across me and unbuckled my seat belt. “Come on, baby. Your grandma is excited to spend some time with you.”
I weakly smiled back, but my heart sank as I took my mother’s hand and let her lead me up the stairs. I stopped in the doorway, hiding myself behind her legs as I eyed my grandmother in a faded mauve recliner.
“Don’t be scared. I won’t bite you,” she said as she pressed her nurse-style shoes against the brown carpet to rock herself.
“Thank you, Ma. I promise this is temporary.” My mom knelt down beside me, cupping my cheeks in her palms. She smiled, a small sob escaping as she fought against her tears. “You be good, okay?” She sniffled but her smile grew brighter. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“I forgot magic shield!”
“Do her a favor, Leighton, and don’t bother,” my grandmother said as my mother pressed her lips to my forehead.
“It’s okay. You won’t need it here. No more nightmares. I love you. Take care of that baby doll for me, okay?” She ran her hand over my hair before stepping out of the door and out of my life forever.
* *
My mother had always loved me. Every memory I had of her was of smiles and warm embraces, even when the world was against her. But memories are subjective when you’re young and idolize those who show you affection. She told me she would be back for me. That was what I clung to all those years, even after my grandmother passed away and there was no one else to take me in. I would walk to the ends of the earth to find out why she never returned, to know if my father had finally caught up with her. But the real tragedy began after I’d lost everyone I knew, and now I was desperate for answers and a resolution so I could move on with my life.
I sighed as I sank down on the edge of my bed and pulled my knees to my chest. My apartment was barely the size of an average bedroom, but it served its purpose, and I didn’t plan on staying much longer. If my leads didn’t work out in Orlando, I’d have to figure out another way to get information. I didn’t have much, but I didn’t need much. The light at the end of my tunnel was the truth. It was what I had in my darkest moments. I wasn’t that small, helpless child in a foster home anymore. I had grown stronger, learned to overcome, and now I could protect myself like my mother could not.
After running away from an abusive family and being thrown back into foster care, I walked free on a technicality known as adulthood. When you go into the system, it’s impossible to escape, but eventually you age and get thrown out with little hope of surviving and becoming a productive citizen. I clung to the stories I had learned as a child. One day the world would right itself, justice would be served, and a hero would save the day. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I was my own goddamn hero, and I was going to make things right.
I grabbed my messenger bag from my bedside table and shoved inside it my old baby doll that my mother had sewn from a cloth glove. It was ratty, and the yarn hair was falling out, but it was all I had. Climbing on my bed, I slowly took down each piece of newspaper and stuck them all inside my purse. It made me feel safer knowing I kept the most important things by my side, since I hadn’t been able to pay my rent this month and I wasn’t on a lease. I left my bedroom, shutting off the light behind me. I had ten minutes before my shift started at Crowley’s Bar, and I couldn’t afford to lose my job. This was one of the few places willing to pay me under the table, enabling me to lie about my age. Locking the door behind me, I left my apartment and descended into the muggy night. I loved working night shifts. There was something anonymous about being cloaked in darkness, mingling in the shadows, never having to reveal your true self. It was freeing. I never craved to be center of attention, in the spotlight.
At the bar I was the fun girl who loved loud music and giving relationship advice to the sloppy drunks. They loved to flirt and tell me how pretty my smile was, none being able to see it was a façade. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a miserable person. I was just very focused and driven.
I lived only five minutes from the bar, so I didn’t need to worry about buying a car or wasting money on a cab. I could take the alleyway behind my apartment building and cut across Long Street to the back entrance. I had been in Orlando for nine weeks, but this place wasn’t home. Nowhere felt like home, and I knew that wouldn’t change until I found answers and could put my past to rest.
The alley smelled of urine and car exhaust, and I did my best to hold my breath as I slipped into the back door of the club.
“Cutting it close, Ella.” Maric shook his head as he wiped a rag over the bar, his thick, dark hair hanging down into his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I got held up. My cat was sick, and I had to clean up the hairball.” My voice trailed off as he stared at me. “Fine. I lost track of time.”
“You want to lose your job?”
“A dream job like this?” I rounded the bar as he glared at me and handed me the rag.
“A job is a job is a job, and my money spends the same as anyone else’s.”
“Yeah, but your money gets shoved into a disease-infested crotch first.”
“I’d shove a few bills into your granny panties if you get up on that pole.”
I grabbed a lemon and began cutting it into wedges. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Any new leads in the search for your mom?”
I smiled, genuinely happy that under the greasy hair and perverted comments, Maric was a decent guy. “Just more dead ends. The one person who might have answers seems to have fallen off the face of the earth,” I rolled my eyes and stuck a lemon in my mouth, puckering at its sour flavor.
“Give it some time. Sometimes when we stop looking the answers fall into our laps.”
“I have nothing but time. That’s for sure.”
“Time for a date?”
“Nope,” I laughed as I shook my head. The kind moment between us was over.
Maric winked at me before tapping his palm against the counter. “I like a girl who plays hard to get.”
“Ugh, you like anything with a pulse.” I joked as I dropped the slices into the plastic bin and grabbed another. “In fact, I’d bet money you’d hit anything before rigor mortis set in.”
“The offer stands if you ever change your mind about dancing.”
“This job is only temporary,” I mumbled to myself as Maric walked away.
* *
“It’s been five years, Leigh. You said this was only temporary, and now I’m raising your child.” My grandmother spoke into the phone as she stirred a pot of chicken noodle soup on the stove. I sat in the center of the living room floor trying to comb out my baby doll’s hair with my fingers. “I can’t send you any money, if that’s what you want. I am barely getting by on my social security. I can’t even afford my meds this month.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and I pretended I wasn’t listening.
“What sort of trouble?” My grandma put her hand over the receiver and called out to me, “Mikaella, go fetch me my glasses from beside my bed.”
I reluctantly got up from the floor and made my way to the stairs. I climbed them as fast as I could to retrieve her glasses, and when I returned, I crept quietly halfway down and sat on a step so I could listen to their conversation.
“School will be starting again soon. She needs shots and supplies.” Grandma groaned, and I could picture her shaking her head in disapproval. “What do I tell her when other kids bring up that her mother is a criminal? Or that her father is insane? What then? She is going to have to live with what you’ve done for the rest of her life.” She listened to my mother before responding to whatever she had said.
“I don’t want any more of your money. I want you to grow up and take care of your daughter.”
I stood up, rubbing my damp eyes with the back of my hand, and slowly descended the steps. My grandmother looked me over, her eyes sad.
“Come say hello to your mother, Mikaella.”
I walked across the living room and into the kitchen. Grandma took her glasses and held out the beige phone. Reluctantly, I took it from her hand, twisting my body in the long cord as I cleared my throat.
“Baby, are you there?” My mother’s voice sounded rough as if she was fighting a cold.
“I don’t want to start school,” I whispered.
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll be coming for you real soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday. Nine years old! You’re practically a grown-up. I got you a present.”
“You found Daddy?” I asked as I twisted the phone cord around my fingers.
“No, baby. A new magic shield just like your old one. Are you still having those nightmares?”
“Sometimes.” I shrugged as I thought about the sleepless nights.
“Baby, I have to go.” Her voice was panicked, and it sounded like she had moved away from the phone. “I have to go. I love you.” The line went dead before I could respond. That was the last time I’d ever heard from my mother.
Loyalty
Chapter 4—Rellik
Loyalty: a strong feeling of support or allegiance
Humans by nature are pack animals. We take comfort in those around us and value our worth by how many others deem us important. We struggle to fit in, to be like the others.
I now had a few that I would call family, but our loyalty came from understanding the true depravity of human nature, not from blood. Although blood had been shed to bring us together, and more would be shed when we were torn apart.
“We have to go.” Phantom kicked my leg, and I groaned, rubbing my hand over my stubbled jaw as I stretched.
“Fuck you,” I growled as he clicked a button on the remote and dropped it on the table in front of me, causing Trigger to startle awake.
“You f**king prick!” Trig was on his feet, alert, but his eyes were vacant, and it took a few seconds for him to come back to reality. He turned and rammed his shoulder against Phantom’s as he shoved by him. Phantom was twice as wide as the rest of us but built out of pure muscle.
“You know you can’t f**king do shit like that when he’s sleeping.” I stood and stretched, my muscles tight from a night of drinking, wishing I could fall into a perpetual sleep so I’d never have to leave Katie behind for the harsh reality of everyday life. No matter how many people thought I was a f**kup, she always saw something good in me, even if it wasn’t really there.
“It’s time to go, man.” Much like Trig, Phantom’s problems began early, but it wasn’t about who he was, but who he wasn’t. Sometimes there are worse things than being beaten and abused. Abandoned and neglected, he saw the world in black and white. Compassion and empathy were things he didn’t possess. Only good or evil. Misery loves company, and that is why we all gravitated toward one another.
I nodded and gathered my things before following him out into the harsh sunlight and into the large black SUV parked just outside the door. We didn’t travel in a bus because it was a luxury we couldn’t yet afford.
I climbed in the driver’s seat as Hangman got into the passenger side of the black Durango, talking about his night. I adjusted the rearview mirror.
“Them twins had some tig ole’ bitties, man. I’m surprised they didn’t give me a black eye.”
“You’re lucky the boyfriend didn’t give you one either.” Trig laughed as Hangman turned around to glare at him.
“How the f**k was I supposed to know the dumb one had a boyfriend?”
“The dumb ones always do,” Phantom said as I pulled out onto the road.
“Then why is Trig single?” Hangman laughed as Trig smacked him in the back of his head.
“Fuck you, you f**king prick.”
I ignored them, drowning out their conversation with heavy rock blasting from the radio as we headed down the road, the GPS navigating us to Orlando, Florida, the place I used to call home. The idea of stepping foot in my hometown made my skin crawl. This was our life. Every day was the same. Most thought what we did was glamorous, but in truth it was long nights filled with highway and strangers. The hours rolled by, weeks, months, and it felt like we never really went anywhere. My mind was lost in my past, an endless loop, much like my life now.
* *
“Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
I glanced up from the fallen tree I leaned against to see Katie standing before me in her ivory church dress. At sixteen she was still the beautiful girl I couldn’t help but stare at, only now she had grown three inches, and her curves had filled out. I shrugged and continued to dig my father’s pocketknife into the sole of my black Adidas shell top sneaker.
“Where did you get this?” my grandmother asked, but my mom shoved the money into her hand and folded her fingers over the stack of bills.
“She can help you. She loves to help cook, and she picks up after herself. She’s a good kid, Ma. Just look at her.” My mother stretched out her arm in my direction, and my grandma’s expression softened momentarily before she glared back at my mother. “I just need a little time. Someone’s been leaving me messages, Ma. I think it’s Tommy.”
“I’ve always had to clean up your messes. The first time that man stepped through the door, your father should have put him to ground. God rest his soul.” She turned and made her way up the wooden steps into her apartment, gripping the railing to steady herself. “Always mixed up with the law. Do you even care how the neighbors look at me? Of course you don’t. You only care about yourself.”
My mother spun around and pulled open my door, a fresh reassuring smile on her face as she reached across me and unbuckled my seat belt. “Come on, baby. Your grandma is excited to spend some time with you.”
I weakly smiled back, but my heart sank as I took my mother’s hand and let her lead me up the stairs. I stopped in the doorway, hiding myself behind her legs as I eyed my grandmother in a faded mauve recliner.
“Don’t be scared. I won’t bite you,” she said as she pressed her nurse-style shoes against the brown carpet to rock herself.
“Thank you, Ma. I promise this is temporary.” My mom knelt down beside me, cupping my cheeks in her palms. She smiled, a small sob escaping as she fought against her tears. “You be good, okay?” She sniffled but her smile grew brighter. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“I forgot magic shield!”
“Do her a favor, Leighton, and don’t bother,” my grandmother said as my mother pressed her lips to my forehead.
“It’s okay. You won’t need it here. No more nightmares. I love you. Take care of that baby doll for me, okay?” She ran her hand over my hair before stepping out of the door and out of my life forever.
* *
My mother had always loved me. Every memory I had of her was of smiles and warm embraces, even when the world was against her. But memories are subjective when you’re young and idolize those who show you affection. She told me she would be back for me. That was what I clung to all those years, even after my grandmother passed away and there was no one else to take me in. I would walk to the ends of the earth to find out why she never returned, to know if my father had finally caught up with her. But the real tragedy began after I’d lost everyone I knew, and now I was desperate for answers and a resolution so I could move on with my life.
I sighed as I sank down on the edge of my bed and pulled my knees to my chest. My apartment was barely the size of an average bedroom, but it served its purpose, and I didn’t plan on staying much longer. If my leads didn’t work out in Orlando, I’d have to figure out another way to get information. I didn’t have much, but I didn’t need much. The light at the end of my tunnel was the truth. It was what I had in my darkest moments. I wasn’t that small, helpless child in a foster home anymore. I had grown stronger, learned to overcome, and now I could protect myself like my mother could not.
After running away from an abusive family and being thrown back into foster care, I walked free on a technicality known as adulthood. When you go into the system, it’s impossible to escape, but eventually you age and get thrown out with little hope of surviving and becoming a productive citizen. I clung to the stories I had learned as a child. One day the world would right itself, justice would be served, and a hero would save the day. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I was my own goddamn hero, and I was going to make things right.
I grabbed my messenger bag from my bedside table and shoved inside it my old baby doll that my mother had sewn from a cloth glove. It was ratty, and the yarn hair was falling out, but it was all I had. Climbing on my bed, I slowly took down each piece of newspaper and stuck them all inside my purse. It made me feel safer knowing I kept the most important things by my side, since I hadn’t been able to pay my rent this month and I wasn’t on a lease. I left my bedroom, shutting off the light behind me. I had ten minutes before my shift started at Crowley’s Bar, and I couldn’t afford to lose my job. This was one of the few places willing to pay me under the table, enabling me to lie about my age. Locking the door behind me, I left my apartment and descended into the muggy night. I loved working night shifts. There was something anonymous about being cloaked in darkness, mingling in the shadows, never having to reveal your true self. It was freeing. I never craved to be center of attention, in the spotlight.
At the bar I was the fun girl who loved loud music and giving relationship advice to the sloppy drunks. They loved to flirt and tell me how pretty my smile was, none being able to see it was a façade. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a miserable person. I was just very focused and driven.
I lived only five minutes from the bar, so I didn’t need to worry about buying a car or wasting money on a cab. I could take the alleyway behind my apartment building and cut across Long Street to the back entrance. I had been in Orlando for nine weeks, but this place wasn’t home. Nowhere felt like home, and I knew that wouldn’t change until I found answers and could put my past to rest.
The alley smelled of urine and car exhaust, and I did my best to hold my breath as I slipped into the back door of the club.
“Cutting it close, Ella.” Maric shook his head as he wiped a rag over the bar, his thick, dark hair hanging down into his eyes.
“I’m sorry. I got held up. My cat was sick, and I had to clean up the hairball.” My voice trailed off as he stared at me. “Fine. I lost track of time.”
“You want to lose your job?”
“A dream job like this?” I rounded the bar as he glared at me and handed me the rag.
“A job is a job is a job, and my money spends the same as anyone else’s.”
“Yeah, but your money gets shoved into a disease-infested crotch first.”
“I’d shove a few bills into your granny panties if you get up on that pole.”
I grabbed a lemon and began cutting it into wedges. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Any new leads in the search for your mom?”
I smiled, genuinely happy that under the greasy hair and perverted comments, Maric was a decent guy. “Just more dead ends. The one person who might have answers seems to have fallen off the face of the earth,” I rolled my eyes and stuck a lemon in my mouth, puckering at its sour flavor.
“Give it some time. Sometimes when we stop looking the answers fall into our laps.”
“I have nothing but time. That’s for sure.”
“Time for a date?”
“Nope,” I laughed as I shook my head. The kind moment between us was over.
Maric winked at me before tapping his palm against the counter. “I like a girl who plays hard to get.”
“Ugh, you like anything with a pulse.” I joked as I dropped the slices into the plastic bin and grabbed another. “In fact, I’d bet money you’d hit anything before rigor mortis set in.”
“The offer stands if you ever change your mind about dancing.”
“This job is only temporary,” I mumbled to myself as Maric walked away.
* *
“It’s been five years, Leigh. You said this was only temporary, and now I’m raising your child.” My grandmother spoke into the phone as she stirred a pot of chicken noodle soup on the stove. I sat in the center of the living room floor trying to comb out my baby doll’s hair with my fingers. “I can’t send you any money, if that’s what you want. I am barely getting by on my social security. I can’t even afford my meds this month.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and I pretended I wasn’t listening.
“What sort of trouble?” My grandma put her hand over the receiver and called out to me, “Mikaella, go fetch me my glasses from beside my bed.”
I reluctantly got up from the floor and made my way to the stairs. I climbed them as fast as I could to retrieve her glasses, and when I returned, I crept quietly halfway down and sat on a step so I could listen to their conversation.
“School will be starting again soon. She needs shots and supplies.” Grandma groaned, and I could picture her shaking her head in disapproval. “What do I tell her when other kids bring up that her mother is a criminal? Or that her father is insane? What then? She is going to have to live with what you’ve done for the rest of her life.” She listened to my mother before responding to whatever she had said.
“I don’t want any more of your money. I want you to grow up and take care of your daughter.”
I stood up, rubbing my damp eyes with the back of my hand, and slowly descended the steps. My grandmother looked me over, her eyes sad.
“Come say hello to your mother, Mikaella.”
I walked across the living room and into the kitchen. Grandma took her glasses and held out the beige phone. Reluctantly, I took it from her hand, twisting my body in the long cord as I cleared my throat.
“Baby, are you there?” My mother’s voice sounded rough as if she was fighting a cold.
“I don’t want to start school,” I whispered.
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll be coming for you real soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday. Nine years old! You’re practically a grown-up. I got you a present.”
“You found Daddy?” I asked as I twisted the phone cord around my fingers.
“No, baby. A new magic shield just like your old one. Are you still having those nightmares?”
“Sometimes.” I shrugged as I thought about the sleepless nights.
“Baby, I have to go.” Her voice was panicked, and it sounded like she had moved away from the phone. “I have to go. I love you.” The line went dead before I could respond. That was the last time I’d ever heard from my mother.
Loyalty
Chapter 4—Rellik
Loyalty: a strong feeling of support or allegiance
Humans by nature are pack animals. We take comfort in those around us and value our worth by how many others deem us important. We struggle to fit in, to be like the others.
I now had a few that I would call family, but our loyalty came from understanding the true depravity of human nature, not from blood. Although blood had been shed to bring us together, and more would be shed when we were torn apart.
“We have to go.” Phantom kicked my leg, and I groaned, rubbing my hand over my stubbled jaw as I stretched.
“Fuck you,” I growled as he clicked a button on the remote and dropped it on the table in front of me, causing Trigger to startle awake.
“You f**king prick!” Trig was on his feet, alert, but his eyes were vacant, and it took a few seconds for him to come back to reality. He turned and rammed his shoulder against Phantom’s as he shoved by him. Phantom was twice as wide as the rest of us but built out of pure muscle.
“You know you can’t f**king do shit like that when he’s sleeping.” I stood and stretched, my muscles tight from a night of drinking, wishing I could fall into a perpetual sleep so I’d never have to leave Katie behind for the harsh reality of everyday life. No matter how many people thought I was a f**kup, she always saw something good in me, even if it wasn’t really there.
“It’s time to go, man.” Much like Trig, Phantom’s problems began early, but it wasn’t about who he was, but who he wasn’t. Sometimes there are worse things than being beaten and abused. Abandoned and neglected, he saw the world in black and white. Compassion and empathy were things he didn’t possess. Only good or evil. Misery loves company, and that is why we all gravitated toward one another.
I nodded and gathered my things before following him out into the harsh sunlight and into the large black SUV parked just outside the door. We didn’t travel in a bus because it was a luxury we couldn’t yet afford.
I climbed in the driver’s seat as Hangman got into the passenger side of the black Durango, talking about his night. I adjusted the rearview mirror.
“Them twins had some tig ole’ bitties, man. I’m surprised they didn’t give me a black eye.”
“You’re lucky the boyfriend didn’t give you one either.” Trig laughed as Hangman turned around to glare at him.
“How the f**k was I supposed to know the dumb one had a boyfriend?”
“The dumb ones always do,” Phantom said as I pulled out onto the road.
“Then why is Trig single?” Hangman laughed as Trig smacked him in the back of his head.
“Fuck you, you f**king prick.”
I ignored them, drowning out their conversation with heavy rock blasting from the radio as we headed down the road, the GPS navigating us to Orlando, Florida, the place I used to call home. The idea of stepping foot in my hometown made my skin crawl. This was our life. Every day was the same. Most thought what we did was glamorous, but in truth it was long nights filled with highway and strangers. The hours rolled by, weeks, months, and it felt like we never really went anywhere. My mind was lost in my past, an endless loop, much like my life now.
* *
“Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
I glanced up from the fallen tree I leaned against to see Katie standing before me in her ivory church dress. At sixteen she was still the beautiful girl I couldn’t help but stare at, only now she had grown three inches, and her curves had filled out. I shrugged and continued to dig my father’s pocketknife into the sole of my black Adidas shell top sneaker.
