Page 1 of Draco

A failure.

That is the only way to describe the way I felt entering the pawn shop. The knot in my throat made it hard to breathe, forcing me to expel an exhausted exhale through my nostrils. A spicy blend of cigarettes and cinnamon caused me to lift my glasses and dab my watery eyes. I really wished I had followed through with my plans of coming to the neighborhood hangout on a Monday instead of a busy Saturday, but thefinal noticefrom the bank vetoed the idea.

From afar, I saw Mr. Lex busy with other customers, so I kept my head low and glanced at the valuables locked in glass cases. Most of the jewels were too flashy for my taste. I only busied myself with window shopping to keep my mind off the loss I’d take if I couldn’t come up with seven thousand dollars in the next thirty days.

Out of nowhere, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. My frame went lance straight, while my eyes landed on a guitar hanging on the wall a few feet ahead.

“What do you want, Showboat?” I asked before turning around.

“Damn, Frankie. How the hell do you always know I’m walking up?”

The seams of my lips turned up.

“Everyone has a scent, and yours is loud. I recognize scents like most people recognize a person’s walk.”

Showboat narrowed his doe-shaped eyes then shook his head. “That’s weird. You need to get out more. If you’re studying smells, I know you ain’t getting no dick. You’re going to be known as an old cat lady if you keep letting that cat go to waste.”

“Thanks for the words of advice, DJ Quik.” I giggled and pushed his long hair over his shoulder.

Showboat hopped in my face anytime I hopped off the porch. He was a corner boy with a mouth full of gold. A few times, my mom fed the hell raiser when he got into trouble and had to lie low. Years later, he still hadn’t learned his lesson.

“For real, Frankie. Whatchu doing up here? If you need something, you can just ask for help. I can pay you to braid my hair like back in the day.”

“No, thank you. I stopped doing your hair because you don’t know how to keep your hands to yourself. I’m not interested in compromising my dignity for a meal or a few dollars.”

“You’ve been saying that for years, but I’m going to keep trying. We’re supposed to be together, girl.” He patted his right peck. “Can’t you feel it?”

“I feel something for you, but it’s not love.”

I fingered the asthma pump in the pocket of my sweatpants and shifted my gaze to the argyle tile beneath my Vans. Just the sound of the wordloverolling off my tongue was unnerving. Sometimes, I was proud to be a twenty-four-year-old virgin who hadn’t allowed a man to use and abuse her like the women in my birth family. Other times, I went back and forth on why I hadn’t found someone who made me feel safe enough to fall into something that mirrored a fairytale.

When I detected some customers had cleared out, I took a deep breath and traveled to the other side of the room.

“Good morning, Mr. Lex.”

“Ms. Frankie! It is good to see you. Are you stopping by to pick up a new comic book? One of those white boys from up North dropped off some vintage horror you might like.”

I scanned my surroundings and then removed a small jewelry box from the top of my socks. A quiver hit my hands as I ushered the heirloom over to the business owner. He held it tight but didn’t examine my offering. He was too busy staring at me with a sympathetic expression. All that did was make me feel even more guilty about being here.

“Your eyes are sad, Frankie.”

“I’m taking it one day at a time,” I replied in a chipper tone. “That’s all a person can do when they’ve lost the only person who loved them.”

“Goodness, baby girl. Those are big words for a little lady who has so much life to live.”

My shoulders crowded around my ears. “There’s no other way to put it. Avoiding the words doesn’t dismiss the facts.”

My adoptive mother, Ms. Green, passed three months ago, and after taking care of her bills and dealing with her kids, who didn’t lift a finger to take care of her during her final days, there was only enough money to stay above water for so long.

“I suppose you’re right, Frankie. Where did you say you got this?” he asked, lifting my necklace to eye level.

“According to Ms. Green, the piece belonged to my birth mother. I’m not really sure of its origin, but I believe it’s vintage. The diamonds in the charm must be worth a few grand on their own.”

Mr. Lex ejected a tight-lipped huff before he pinched his nose. “If you were someone else, I would make you an offer instead of issuing advice, but this is different. Your mother meant a lot to this community.”

I groaned. “Can you please just take the time toreallylook at it?”

Though Mr. Lex wasn’t the root of my problems, his kind words were like nails on a chalkboard. Typically, I was the person who reminded folks of their blessings when they struggled to see the bigger picture, but nowadays, I couldn’t be a vessel of encouragement. I didn’t want to feel good. I wanted the chance to sit in my grief without pretending it didn’t hurt.

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