Page 20 of Roses Are Dead
“One month?” Bear asked to clarify.
“One month. You can return her on All Saint’s Day. Do you know when that is?”
“I’m not stupid. It’s right after Halloween.”
“It’s the day to celebrate the martyrs!”
I flinched at Carl’s uncharacteristic volume.
Bear, however, didn’t balk. “…And the dead.”
That pleased Carl. He let go of my hair, then rubbed his hand against his jeans. “Go with him.”
Was this really happening?
“She got any clothes or shit?”
Carl laughed. “She won’t need clothes.”
“To get her ass where I need to get her, she needs clothes. I’m on my bike tonight. You, Rose or whatever it is, grab enough shit you won’t freeze or get me pulled over. You got one minute. Go!”
I ran to my “room” which was more like a closet than a bedroom. I grabbed what I could and stuffed it into my laptop backpack. I slipped the device into the padded back pocket and stumbled, overwhelmed by the futility of it all.
I ripped off the dress, but couldn’t untie the hair shirt quickly so opted instead to toss a sweatshirt over it. Then jumped into my jeans and my good boots, no time for socks. I stuffed a bra into the side pocket of the pack. The clock in my head was ticking.
From downstairs, Bear yelled out, “Don’t forget whatever woman shit you need. I ain’t buying tampons!”
I froze.
I hadn’t even thought about all that stuff. My hair products, my makeup, my…
My leverage.
I tore through the bathroom, spilling my products out of their box and only grabbing a handful. If I wasn’t going to see Carl for one whole month, I’d have time before he killed me for this mess. As soon as I had enough stuffed in a pocket or two, I reached behind the toilet tank. Carl had a stash point in this bathroom. Whenever one of his dealers came for a buy, he’d finish by walking up to this bathroom and hiding the cash in the little hinged hole in the wall.
I pulled out the twin stacks of bills hidden there and shoved them under the spot in my pack where the lining had worn thin. The padding for the laptop worked away from both sides. I tore the wrapper bands off the money and flattened the bills out at the bottom of the bag where they were concealed by the half-inch foam. I’d lost pens, coins, lip pencils, bobby pins, hair ties, and receipts in that gap, swearing each time I’d replace the bag. But I never had. It was about time the black hole of doom swallowed something else. The cash I needed to buy my freedom. I ripped off the tape holding my cab fare to my skin, pulled the money out of the Ziplock, and stuffed half into my makeup bag as a decoy, and the other into a package of facial wipes. I used folded pieces of the tape to secure the ripped hem of the lining so the larger portion of cash couldn’t fall out.
Carl would eventually miss his money. When he did, I’d bargain with it.
And if Beth was better by that point? I’d hand it over and walk away.
Finally free.
Just one more month. I could do this. I’d endured worse.
“Get your ass down here!”
Bear was much more vocal than Carl. I grabbed what else I could and zipped up the various pockets and swung my pack over my shoulder. Then scrambled down the stairs to face my new fate. Whatever the Goddess had planned for me, I’d accept it. I’d asked for freedom. And I was getting it. Just delayed by one month. There was always a price for magic. Nothing was without cost. And everything worked on the world’s timeline, not the individual’s.
And maybe this wasn’t exactly how I envisioned my freedom would start. But I wasn’t about to question the will of the Gods.
Carl stopped me and yanked the pack from my shoulder. “Not so fast. I gotta make sure you didn’t take anything that wasn’t yours.”
My heart threatened to escape my chest. If he found the money, I’d never be free.
Carl searched through the bag, spilling the loose bottles and tampons onto the floor, shaking out my laptop and my clothes to join the clutter at my feet.
He unzipped my makeup bag and took the cash I’d stuffed there.
