Sadie(9)

“N-no.”

He’s smoking, takes a deep drag off the cigarette nestled between his long fingers. I watch the cherry flare and fade and my neck prickles uncomfortably at a memory of Keith. I don’t want to get into it, but I still have the scar on the back of my neck and I was afraid of fire for a long time after I got it. When I was fourteen, I forced myself to spend a night with a pack of matches and I made them burn bright, held them for as long as I could stand it. My hands would tremble, but I did it. I always forget fear is a conquerable thing but I learn it over and over again and that, I guess, is better than never learning it.

Caddy tosses the cigarette on the pavement and grinds it out. “Didn’t your mama tell you about approaching dangerous men in the dark?”

“W-when I see a d-dangerous man, I’ll k-keep that in m-mind.”

I’ve got no sense of self-preservation. That’s what May Beth used to tell me. You wouldn’t care if you died for it, so long as you were gettin’ the last word. It was hard enough having the stutter, let alone being a smart-ass on top of that.

Caddy slowly pushes himself from the Dumpster and sets his murky gaze on me.

“Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh will yuh-yuh-yuh you?”

It’s not the first sorry imitation of myself I’ve ever heard, but I still want to pull his tongue out of his mouth and strangle him with it.

“I n-n-n—” Calm down, I think and then I want to slap myself for it. Calm down doesn’t do anything. Calm down is what people who don’t know any better tell me to do, like the difference between having a stutter and not having one is a certain level of inner fucking peace. Even Mattie knew better than to tell me to calm down. “I n-need to talk t-to you.”

He coughs, spitting something resembling drying Elmer’s Glue onto the ground. My stomach turns at the sight. “That right?”

“I w-w-want—”

“Didn’t ask you what you want.”

I take the picture out and hold it right in front of his fucking face because it’s already pretty clear that I have to do this differently than I did it with Ruby. What’s that saying: better to ask forgiveness than permission?

But I’ve never been good at saying sorry either.

“D-do you know this m-man? I n-need to know where t-to f-find him.”

Caddy laughs and shoves past me, his bony shoulder slamming into mine, forcing me into a graceless backward shuffle. There’s something confident about the way he moves his body for a guy who can’t be a buck twenty soaking wet. I try to memorize it, the way his shoulders lead.

“I’m not goddamned Missed Connections.”

“I can p—I can pay.”

He stops and turns to me, running his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates it. In one quick clean stride, he closes the space between us and rips the photo from my hands. If I’d clutched it any tighter, I’d still be holding half of it. My first instinct is to make for a grab back, but I catch myself in time. Sudden movements don’t seem like they’d work in my favor.

“What do you want with Darren Marshall?”

I try not to wear the shock of this name on my face. Darren Marshall. So that’s what Keith’s calling himself now. Or maybe Keith was the name he gave himself when he lived with us and Darren is his real name—part of me wants that to be true. There’s something about peeling back a layer this fast that feels good. I haven’t felt good in a long time.

Darren Marshall.

“I’m his d-daughter.”

“He never mentioned no daughter.”

“W-why w-would he?”

He squints and holds the picture up in what little light there is and the long, loose sleeves of his shirt creep down enough for me to see a constellation of track marks on his left arm. May Beth used to tell me it’s a sickness and made me tell Mattie the same thing, but I don’t believe it because people don’t choose to be sick, do they? Show a little compassion for your sister’s sake. Hate the sin, love the sinner. Like my junkie mother’s addiction was my personal failing because I couldn’t put my compassion ahead of all the ways she made me starve.

“Got somethin’ to say?”

He knows exactly where I’m looking.

“No.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He smiles faintly and gets close to me again. “Is it a money thing? You didn’t give a fuck after he left but now you’re hungry, that it? Why you think a man owes you more’n the life he gave you, huh?” He quiets for a moment, studying me. “Gotta say, kid, I don’t see much of a resemblance.” I raise my chin and he chuffs softly, slightly incredulous as his gaze returns to the photo. “You ever heard of a fool’s errand?”

Fool’s errand. Noun. I think. Like chasing after nothing, but sometimes nothing is all you have and sometimes nothing can turn into something. And I’ve got more than nothing. I know the guy in the picture is alive. If he’s alive, he can be found.

I grab the picture from Caddy. “Then I’m a f-fool.”

“I knew Darren but he hasn’t been around in a long damn time. Might know something about that too,” he says, and my throat gets tight because like I said, I can hear a lie a mile away.

Caddy isn’t lying.

“It’ll cost you,” he adds.