In case you've been with us since the beginning of the #HomicideWanderers arc, think of Ca-Ca as a ten year old Jodie Foster and think of Timothy as a ten year old Lucas Haas...That is unless you have ideas of your own.
Timothy stayed downstairs to watch an old movie. I think it was the 1939 ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD. He liked it, even though Robin Hood looked like Peter Pan, by way of The Burger King. Everyone else in the house was sleeping. So it was him, Errol Flynn and Olivia DeHaviland in a dim, almost dark living room. He burrowed under an afghan. It wasn't like the fleece throw from Walmart Ca-Ca's mother had. This was a thick, warm, crocheted work of art. His Great Aunt Josephine made it when she was laid up with her new hip. Only she got an infection and died. Now it was like a relic. Timothy felt warm and protected, whether by Aunt Josephine or a whole lot of high grade acrylic he couldn't tell.
But he fell asleep right after Robin Hood sword fights the bad guy... and when he woke up the house was dark, because the little lamp was on a timer and the TV turns off if nobody changes the channel for a few hours. Timothy was afraid to move... even to breathe...The dark made him remember.... Esther was dead and he knew why.... He hoped someone would go to the bathroom. He'd run up in the few seconds between the time they switched on the light (a little would wash downstairs) and the time they closed the door. But nobody had to pee. The little imitation French carriage clock his mom found on the bus chimed 'three.' That made it worse...
He thought about Esther. Maybe he thought too much. He couldn't help it. He trembled. A tiny sliver of watery, gray light from the pole by the corner snuck in between the drapes. He studied the point where it hit the rug. That's when he saw the shoe... A little girl's shoe from the Thom McAnn Collection at Kmart slid out of the blackness and under his not so rigid, little boy's sternum a nectarine sized heart skipped a beat.
Esther was there. She was with him. She raised her arm and pointed right at him. He saw the shoe. He saw the gray-white hand, but the rest was in darkness, though he could see the outline of her thin, meek form. She didn't make a sound... She just stood there, maybe six feet from his nest on the sofa.
Timothy prayed, not out loud, but in his head. Basically all he said was - God is with me. God is with me.... but he didn't feel that way. Then he hiccupped and she was gone... Was it a dream? Was it real? Does it make a difference? But he sat there, curled under the afghan, til dawn. Then he ran upstairs and peed his brains out.
When his mom got up to make pancakes (a Saturday tradition) he was still wrapped up in bed. But he heard her say - What smells like farts down here? as she passed through the living room... Esther, as we know, had a flatulence problem. That's why they killed her.
Later that day, (cold & gray) he sat on the frigid, marble steps in front of his house waiting for Ca-Ca to come out of her place. But just as she did... just as she opened the door and stepped out... a plain, black car rolled down the block and the detective guy from school was in it. He looked at them both.
Some things are worse than ghosts....
<to be continued>
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The next day was a Friday. They made 'harvest' decorations in class. You couldn't call them Thanksgiving decorations anymore, since that referenced The Divine and any mention of religion, save in the most passing and general manner, was forbidden. The student teacher, a skinny, personable girl from The Main Line, passed out stencils so those lacking artistic ability could have nice leaves too. Everyone was quiet. Kids like 'art.' And Friday afternoon is art time.
Timothy and Ca-Ca sat right next to each other and they were quiet too... almost calm. Cutting through two or three layers of construction paper can do that to you. Science doesn't know why. It just does. If you listened, you could hear the hum from the florescent lights. Esther's desk was still unoccupied. Her books and some personal things were still in it. She had an open ended desk. If you leaned to the side, you could still see them. Her mother said she'd come in to get them, but she hasn't done it yet. Timothy and Ca-Ca never looked over that way. Once a water bug did a crazy dance 'round Esther's desk. All the kids pointed and laughed. Some girls screamed... some boys too. Timothy looked over. His eyes scanned the interior of her desk for an instant, but he saw Esther's little, orange haired troll doll smiling back at him. He almost shit himself.
Right after restroom break (ten minutes, after two o'clock) a man entered the room. He gestured toward the teacher and she got up and followed him out into the hall. Ca-Ca looked. He wore a suit. Male teachers never wore suits. They wore big Hawaiian tops, or button down casual shirts with the sleeves rolled up. The suit-guy made her nervous. Her stomach started gurgling again. Since it happened...the murder, I mean... Ca-Ca'd been farting almost as bad as Esther. Nerves will do that to a person. Now she knew.... Then the teacher came back into the room, went straight to her desk, opened a drawer and took out the roll book. Ca-Ca watched as she returned to the hall and gave it to the suit-guy. A few other kids watched too, wide eyed and silent. Tim saw, but he pretended not to. The man was a cop. They all knew that. Kids from that neighborhood could tell. The teacher came back in. She looked sad. They heard the cop-guy walk away.
The 'bum' must have said something....
Forty five minutes later, as they walked home, Ca-Ca whispered - I can get in 'Pony's' house. Pony was the fat girl from across the street with the 'rich' grandmother. Her name was really Penny, but everybody called her Pony.... Timothy said - How?.... Ca-Ca said - Through the window, through her little basement window. They got them glass slats. The kind you crank open. Three of 'em. If you break the top one, you can slide the other two out. Then you twist the wing nuts and push in the regular glass..... What's a wing nut? - said Timothy. ... Ca-Ca told him to drop dead.
That night it was cold and drizzly. All the window shades were pulled down tight. Everyone sat in watching television. Some houses with two working people in them watched cable. They were the lucky ones.
Ca-Ca laid on the sofa looking at one of them programs where they show Saturday Night Live clips in prime time. Her mother snored from the reclining chair throne. Ca-Ca covered her up real good with a fleece throw from Walmart. Cozy people sleep longer. Everybody knows that. And Ca-Ca wanted to think, so she laid back down on the sofa and thought. Will Ferrell's face flickered on their old 'fat screen' TV. He made 'goof' faces, but she wasn't watching... The three-way bulb in the lamp by the sofa was on low. She felt safe... almost. The little Sears & Roebuck strongbox with all the money was maybe twenty five yards away... But how would she open it? Maybe her cousin Mike would help her. Mike was in juvvie hall. He knew. Old guys learned him lots a things.
Then an icy rain began to hit the windows. She switched stations... Some 'Buy these '60's hits' infomercial. Eric Burden and The Animals sang WE GOTTA GET OUT A THIS PLACE.
Ca-Ca pushed back into the soft old cushions and listened... She listened hard... real hard.
<to be continued>
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They sat on old, dull, white, cheap, vinyl patio chairs... the kind they sell in supermarkets for like $5.99 a piece. There were two of them. It was cold, not bitter cold, just early coat weather, like you get in November. The yard was quiet... a sixteen by sixteen foot concrete square, imprisoned by a seven foot tall, vertical board, privacy fence. The boards were painted dark green. A door led out to the four foot wide alley... more like a cattle chute. Can you imagine cutting through one of these alleys late at night? People do, but can you imagine it? What if some rats were running down from the opposite direction? What if it was a drunk, psycho? What if it was a night-ghoul? Yeah, it's an urban legend, but so what? Who cares? People hear the shrieks. Once they found a lady (or what used to be a lady) with her hands, feet, nose and lips all chewed off. Cops said it was sewer-side. Lying bastids.
Ca-Ca wore her dirty, pink ski jacket with the matching knit cap. She had her hands shoved in
the pockets. She always sat that way. Timothy had on his black, pleather, bomber jacket with his black Nike baseball cap. His dad thought it looked cool. They were still... real still. It was quiet... real quiet. Not like Ca-Ca's mother was gonna bang open that kitchen door. She already had her bowl of pretzels and twenty ounce cream soda. Ellen was on. She was set.
For the longest time they just sat. The two little killers just sat... watching the shadow of the 'weed' tree in the corner play across the old cracked, concrete surface. You know what weed trees are. You see them by railroad tracks.
Then Ca-Ca said - A bum gave me a funny look today..... Timothy goes - A bum? Which bum?.... How the hell do I know, you shithead you? A bum! A bum! I don't know which one. They don't sell bum cards. You can't identify 'em! - she said..... He didn't answer, but they both knew. Somebody saw them do it. Somebody was there behind the old Kotex factory.
Ca-Ca said - Tim, we have to run away from here... Don't we have to pay a whore to make out she's our mom? You said. - went Timothy.... She just gave him a look like she wished he was dead.... Look, he only stabbed Esther's arms and legs a little bit. He didn't kill her. She did. And if them cops got him alone in a room he'd say that. He'd cry. He'd sob and he'd say that. He'd get ice cream. She'd get cockroach bed in Juvvie Hall for as long as they could keep her. Till she was twenty one years old. Maybe die in a prison fight, or from eating ground glass in her mashed potatoes. That's what she thought. Then she collected herself and said - First we need some money.... How much money? - he said.... A lot of money, you shithead son of a bitch. Now shut up! Just shut up!.... And he did.
Ca-Ca was a shrewd little thing.... always lookin'... always rememberin'.... Few years back, fat girl from across the street used to watch her after school, 'cause her mama worked in a pierogi factory and didn't get home till six o'clock. Fat girl always real mad at her grandmom... Said - That old bitch got more money than God. She could buy me a car. I hope she dies. I wish she was dead....
Well, Ca-Ca remembered that story. She remembered about the little, Sears & Roebuck metal safe in the closet and how it was stuffed with ten and twenty dollar bills. She remembered about the three big coffee cans filled with silver dollars. She remembered all that.
Old lady still lived there. Fat girl still lived there too. She's a little bit crazy now, but that ain't nothin'... lot a folks go crazy. Hell, people gotta do somethin'...
She's hatchin' a plan. He knows it. Timothy can tell. But he don't say a word...just hopes she ain't plannin' to kill him.
<to be continued>
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Some cop walked through the lunchroom. Kids said he came through for every lunch period. Sometimes he whispered something to a guy in a blue suit... probably a detective. Mrs. Mattioli, was with them. She's the vice principal. Ca-Ca says they're lookin' for the killer, so we ate our chicken nuggets and tater tots and ran out to the schoolyard real fast.
I'm Timothy, in case you forgot. Esther's dead and we did it. I don't feel like we did it, but we did. And I can't eat ice cream no more, 'cause it makes me throw up. When I look in the mirror I get real stiff and I peed the bed two nights ago. Nobody found out. I washed the sheet and sprayed the mattress and the pad with a whole lot of Fabreze. The dog knows. He hates Fabreze. Don't mind pee, just Fabreze. Dad says - Why you so funny lately?.... I say - I'm not funny.... Mom says - Leave him alone..... Then I go in my room and lay on the bed.
Kids walk through the alley behind the old Kotex factory 'cause they know that's where it happened. We went through there too, with a kid named Hickey. That's his last name, but everybody calls him 'Hickey.' They say - Yo, when you were born, your mom got a Hickey. Then he punches them.
Lot a papers blow down that alley. Bums sleep under 'em. The day we went with Hickey, we seen one climb out from a whole mess a papers. Hickey threw a rock at him... not a 'rock,' more like the big pebbles that break off from crumbling cement. Guy goes - Drop dead you f#ckin' little bastid, you.... and makes like he's gonna chase us... We give him the finger and run away.... Go into a McDonalds. Three-way split a large order of fries. Bug the lady for them little 'courtesy' cups so we can get cold water. She gives us a look, but she gives us the cups.
Hickey eats most a the fries. Ca-Ca and I were thinkin.'...... How do we know there wasn't no bum sleepin' down that alley the day it happened?
Every time the phone rings I jump. Ca-Ca says she jumps too, but her mom don't climb out a that chair, so she gets it anyway... But she still jump.
I don't think bums got phones, but Cops do. Sometimes cops grab bums. If they grab a bum who knows something, he'll talk. I know. I watched The Diary of Anne Frank once. It was a robber who ratted them out. Cops grabbed him. What the hell did he care? My dad says - What you watchin' that crap for?... But I keep watchin,'cause its about a kid afraid she might get killed... and I wanna see what happens.
We're gonna run away. I know it. Ca-Ca says you can pay a whore to make out she's your mom. First we gotta find the right whore. No, first we gotta find the money.
We're havin' tuna fish and macaroni and cheese tonight. Thank God I can eat that.
I don't wanna talk no more.....Lemme sit quiet, OK?
<to be continued>
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My mom is a witch. Everybody in the family says so... some in a good way... some in a not so good way. But she knows things. She knew Crazy Jack, our neighbor killed Junior, our first dog, because he got Princess, Crazy Jack's little Maltese, all pregnant and everything. Junior wasn't Maltese. We never knew what country, or continent his people came from. Dogs don't talk and the people who breed 'em are liars, so how could you really know? But my mom said - What are you thinkin' about?..... She saw me dittin' on the sofa pretending to watch TV. I said - Nothin.' Why?..... She said - You are such a liar... I slumped down in the sofa and closed my eyes.
Ester was gonna get killed. If we didn't do it, somebody else'd do it. They'd push her onto the subway tracks, or throw a plugged-in hair straightening thing in her bathtub, or punch her in the heart or something. I saw a guy get punched in the heart outside a bar. He spit up pink foam and everything. Cops didn't lock up nobody, 'cause the guy who punched him was married to the daughter of a cop. But one day when she was walkin' home from food shoppin' they throw acid in her face. Now kids call her the Twilight Zone Lady. Cop's family wanna kill somebody from the guy-who-got-punched-in-the-heart's family, but they all moved to some country where they eat ponies... I forget where it is.
Do I feel bad about killin' Esther?... I don't know... A little. She cried like a little bird. I saw her mother through the window, though. She was walking to the Chinese store. It's not a Chinese 'food' store. I mean the people who run it are Chinese. And Esther's mother was goin' so slow. Her head was down. Another lady was with her. I don't know who she was. They came back with a little bag. Esther's mother held it. I felt funny... a little bit.
did you know I want to run away from here? I mean really run away to like where the cops have different cop suits and all. I want to grab some crap and get out of here.. My house is full a low-lifes. I don't care about them. I had a little baby cousin. They gave her Whooping Cough. She died. I liked that baby cousin. Maybe I gave her whooping cough. Who knows? But they're the low-lifes. Not me.
Soon I'll go see 'Shithead.' Shithead is Timothy's nickname. He's not really a shithead...just sometimes. Maybe he'll run away too? I could steal my mom's jewelry. Get about three hundred dollars. I can boost crap from stores. They don't look at nice little white girls and I can make myself look 'nice' if I want to. You can't do it in big stores though, like Walmart or places like that, 'cause they got electrical stuff. Some little stores on the avenue just got price tags and a fat lady on a stool who looks at everybody. Not the same fat lady. They each got their own one.
My mom wants a hoagie from the WaWa. I don't want to leave the house... not because of Esther and all. I just don't feel like. My stomach hurts. That's all. I don't even want to say 'Esther.' I don't want to talk about her.
Oh, God, I don't want to go outside...but she really wants that hoagie...
If I see a cop, I'll die...
<to be continued>
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Nobody goes to Ca-Ca's house. They never did. It smells from the cats. He mother likes cats. I don't know how many they have... three... four? They lock the door and that's it. Neighbors might say 'hi' when they see them on the block. Ca-Ca's father shovels his snow. The mother gives out good candy on Halloween... decent size Hershey bars... store size, not little snack-bar size. But nobody drinks coffee with her. The dads and stepdads and boyfriends don't talk much, except when somebody's got the hood open on their car. Then they all gather 'round like they know... like male chimps holding a war council. I know 'cause I like nature shows and watch 'em on TV. We don't have cable, but Channel 12 shows 'em.
I wish I knew what's going on over there now. Ca-Ca didn't go to school today. I didn't want to go. I prayed that it would stay night forever. When I woke up at a quarter til two and saw the little red numbers on my clock, I thought I still have maybe five and a half hours. When I woke up again at five o'clock, it was still dark and I felt a little bit safe. Not that I was asleep the whole time between 'wake-up.' But I'd pull the covers around my head like a hood. I'd pull them down low... just enough space for me to peek out into the dark and breathe. Once I had to go pee. I went in my money jar. I slid the coins out real quiet into a sneaker. Not the ones I wear to school, but one from an old pair of bo-bo's.
And I didn't think about Ester. I thought about me. They had grief people at school. Two of them got up and talked in the auditorium. We went in in groups... K to 2... 3 to 5 and 6 to 8. The older kids said by the time they went in, the ladies' voices sounded real scratchy and Mister Grossman had to run up and bring 'em bottled water. I'm a fifth grader. Ca-Ca is too. Nobody talked. But nobody listened. I just looked at my knees and walked around like a zombie or a robot all day. A grief lady came into our room too. She said bad things happen, but they hardly ever happen. And it's OK to be sad. Ester was our friend. Some girls giggled when she said that. Miss Domsky just looked and they shut up. On the way to art class after lunch, one of the big kids said the grief ladies were lookin' for kids who were acting weird, or crazy, so they could tell the cops about them. Miss Domsky gave out drawing paper so we could make name signs before the lady came in. She said it was so the lady could call us by name. But I think it's so the cops will know who to lock up and kill. I still wish I could die, but I don't want them to do it. And I don't want God to do it. I want it to just happen.
Ca-Ca's brother is dead too. Did you know that? Maybe somebody said something? Maybe I did? I don't know. Him and Ester are the only two dead kids I know. Heard about a couple others, but don't really know them.
It's five thirty. I'm home from school. Been home since twenty minutes after three. I walked real fast. Forgot my inhaler in my desk. Maybe that will kill me? I'm also back in bed. Heard my mom whisper to my sister to leave me alone. We don't eat til six thirty, 'cause my dad don't get home til six and he likes to relax and drink beer first. One more hour. I got one more hour. Wish I had a real bad asthma attack and died.
My name is Timothy, in case you forgot from yesterday. My nickname is Shithead.
Now just let me lay here and be quiet....
< tomorrow Ca-Ca says stuff >
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It was meatloaf night. I remember it was meatloaf night. I hate meatloaf. It tastes like warm clay and dirt. We sat in the kitchen. the little portable TV was on. It's a real old TV... No flatscreen. They hooked it up to some kind of a little electric box so it would work. I hate that TV. It's like a Russia TV. I bet they have TV's like that in Russia... in Russia and our kitchen.
I don't say anything. I just eat. I eat my corn and mashed potatoes. The mashed potatoes tasted like paste. I even stop picking at the meatloaf. It tastes like Ester's dead body. I hope she's in Heaven... I really do. My heart is pounding. My sister wants to go to Target. She wants my mom to take her to Target because they got a sale on blue jeans. My dad won't take her. He watches sports at night... any kind of sports. He sits in the livingroom where the big real TV is. He don't talk to nobody... just whoops and yells and curses at the TV.
THEN THE NEWS COMES ON.....
A lady who smiles and rolls her eyes all the time stops doing that. Her face gets real still and plain, like she's gonna say something sad or religious. I don't even move. I stare at the place on the wall where daddy threw the soup. My mom cleaned it off, but it was tomato and you can still see a little bit of the red. The TV lady says - A child's body was discovered down a desolate back driveway on 'Factory Road...'
It's not really named Factory Road, but everybody calls it that 'cause of all the factories that used to be there. I don't know where the factories went. I don't care. The TV lady says more stuff, but I don't hear her. I hear my dad say - Jesus Christ! Turn that up!... My mom reaches over and turns it up. My sister just sits there waiting to see if she's gonna get taken to Target or not. I turn to stone. I wish I was dead. ..... My mommy goes - Oh my God! Ester, she said Ester! I know that girl! Her mother's a checker at ShopRite. She goes to school with Timmy. (then she looks at me) Tim, was she at school today?... I just shrug. My mom looks sad. But I just shrug... My dad watches, but he keeps on eating.... The TV lady keeps talking. They show people holding candles down the cracked up back driveway or alley or whatever it is. Mom sucks her teeth the way ladies do when something is 'a shame.' People put teddy bears and I think a stuffed dog and rabbit where Ester was. I just sit there.
SOMEBODY POUNDS ON THE DOOR...
I tremble inside. My dad gets up to see who it is. He's in charge of who gets in and who gets out. My sister quietly sneaks upstairs. My mom stands behind dad. I hear Patsy. She lives across the street. She says - Yeh hear?... Mom nods. They cry a little. Patsy says - We're all gone over to Donna's.... Donna is Ester's mom. It's just the two of them.... she says - You want me to wait and walk over with yeh?.... Mom says - No, that's alright. Lemme clean up .... But Patsy looks like she wants to say something, so my mom yells for my sister to come down and clean up. She knows this is serious, so she does. Mom turns around and says - I'm gone over with Patsy, OK?.... Dad nods. Then he sits on the sofa, but he doesn't watch no sports on TV. He just sits. My sister washes up. She don't pay no attention to me. She never does. Tells me I'm a weird, little, autistic bastid. But I'm not autistic. I just got nothing to say to her. Maybe I am autistic? I don't know.
I'm still sittin' there, in the kitchen, I mean. I want to go out side and get run over by a car, or like a big pick-up truck. I can feel the tires squish my body and press out all the blood. I wish it would happen, but I can't move. The faded, red soup stain on the wall looks like Ester, from when she was all curled up. God, I don't want to get caught.
Ca-Ca must have heard about it too. I wish I knew what she did. I wish I knew what she said.
My dad yelled - What the hell are you doin' in there?..... I said - Nothing..... Five minutes later he falls asleep. I know, 'cause I hear him snoring.... fartin' too. I hold my ears, because it reminds me of Ester and all. Then I get up, sneak passed him and go upstairs. I'm real careful not to make any noise. I sneak around here a lot, so I can do that....
Even though it's only like seven thirty, it's real dark already, 'cause it's November. I get under the covers and turn out the little ship's wheel lamp. If I have to pee, I'll do it in my money jar, 'cause I can pour the coins into a shoe. My door's locked. I'm safe.
I hope it stays night forever....
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