Read Online Details at Ten by Ardella Garland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ardella Garland
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something like that?
E I G H T
I was hyped up … and I was alone.
When I checked the clock in my dashboard it read 4:48 A . M ., twelve minutes to get to where I needed to be. Finally I pulled my car into the vacant lot of an abandoned hotel. The sound of the engine had been good company and I missed it when I parked. Glimpsing a cop car in my rearview mirror, I quickly ducked down and waited for it to pass. I sat back up and that little voice in my head, that little voice like everyone has, started singing. It was a new song. The verse went:
I don’t like this … uh-un … This is scary.
That was the verse. The chorus went:
You must be crazy, yeah, you must be crazy
.
I took the crisp hundred-dollar bills out of the bag, opened my glove compartment, and took out a bottle of pearl white fingernail polish I kept there. Flipping the bills over, in the part where it says “In God we trust” I whited out the word
In
with the polish. I was dotting, blowing, and fanning the bills to dry them. I checked my watch and the clock in the dash and realized I had somewhere shy of five minutes left. Quickly, I gathered the bills back together, folded five of them, and put them into the paper bag. The other five I folded and palmed in my hand.
It was a short walk over to the third pole by the tracks. I could see it through the darkness in the distance. My steps were steady, firm, maybe even sure as I began my sojourn to meet the voice that I’d hoped would whisper to me the secret of Butter’s whereabouts. Although it was dark and spooky, fear did not overwhelm me. I thought of my sister, Peaches, who always says I’m stone crazy with a dash and a half of nerve.
I stopped walking when I saw a stack of red bricks behind the fence. The fence was tall, silver, with spiked wire loops coiled across the top. Nearing the third pole, I reached down and tugged at the fence and part of it peeled back just as my instructions said. Boyfriend didn’t lie. Turning sideways, I squeezed through and walked over to the third pole, then tagged it with my hand. I thought, okay now you’re it.
The pole was just inches from the overhead el tracks. There was nothing beneath the tracks but trash, the lame leg of a table … the carcass of a compact car … wild weeds … raggedy iron rails … speckles of shattered glass … and the smell of stale pee. Nice way to start a morning, huh?
Suddenly the night’s sounds were interrupted by the caller. I heard the same voice I’d spoken with earlier on the phone. “You got it?” My head snapped in the direction of the voice, which was coming from behind a green metal switch box about fifteen feet away.
I squinted and answered, “Yes.”
I couldn’t see squat. The guy’s body was hidden by the box. It was about eight feet high and three feet wide. I just saw the black toes of his sneakers, one foot flat on the ground and the other foot cradled leisurely on top of a rock.
“It’s so dark out here,” I said.
“You can’t be afraid of the dark?! Better not be. Night never ends, baby,” he replied, then laughed a bit. “Just toss me the money.”
“How do I know you’re not trying to rip me off? Huh? You might not know where Butter is!” My mama ain’t raise no pushover. I’d come this far and I wasn’t about to just roll over and play stupid. I saw the toes of his shoes as his feet shifted. Two seconds later something came flying at me. I dodged and it hit off the pole, landing at my feet. It was a piece of material, pink and white cotton, wrapped around a rock with a rubber band—a piece of Butter’s dress!
“Now, toss the money here!”
I put the rock in the bag, wrapped the rubber band around it, and threw the bag back like I was trying to go upside his head with it. Instead a long arm reached out and caught it in midair, snatching the bag behind the metal box that continued to shield his body.
“Where’s Butter?”
“Where’s tha rest at?” he shouted back,
E I G H T
I was hyped up … and I was alone.
When I checked the clock in my dashboard it read 4:48 A . M ., twelve minutes to get to where I needed to be. Finally I pulled my car into the vacant lot of an abandoned hotel. The sound of the engine had been good company and I missed it when I parked. Glimpsing a cop car in my rearview mirror, I quickly ducked down and waited for it to pass. I sat back up and that little voice in my head, that little voice like everyone has, started singing. It was a new song. The verse went:
I don’t like this … uh-un … This is scary.
That was the verse. The chorus went:
You must be crazy, yeah, you must be crazy
.
I took the crisp hundred-dollar bills out of the bag, opened my glove compartment, and took out a bottle of pearl white fingernail polish I kept there. Flipping the bills over, in the part where it says “In God we trust” I whited out the word
In
with the polish. I was dotting, blowing, and fanning the bills to dry them. I checked my watch and the clock in the dash and realized I had somewhere shy of five minutes left. Quickly, I gathered the bills back together, folded five of them, and put them into the paper bag. The other five I folded and palmed in my hand.
It was a short walk over to the third pole by the tracks. I could see it through the darkness in the distance. My steps were steady, firm, maybe even sure as I began my sojourn to meet the voice that I’d hoped would whisper to me the secret of Butter’s whereabouts. Although it was dark and spooky, fear did not overwhelm me. I thought of my sister, Peaches, who always says I’m stone crazy with a dash and a half of nerve.
I stopped walking when I saw a stack of red bricks behind the fence. The fence was tall, silver, with spiked wire loops coiled across the top. Nearing the third pole, I reached down and tugged at the fence and part of it peeled back just as my instructions said. Boyfriend didn’t lie. Turning sideways, I squeezed through and walked over to the third pole, then tagged it with my hand. I thought, okay now you’re it.
The pole was just inches from the overhead el tracks. There was nothing beneath the tracks but trash, the lame leg of a table … the carcass of a compact car … wild weeds … raggedy iron rails … speckles of shattered glass … and the smell of stale pee. Nice way to start a morning, huh?
Suddenly the night’s sounds were interrupted by the caller. I heard the same voice I’d spoken with earlier on the phone. “You got it?” My head snapped in the direction of the voice, which was coming from behind a green metal switch box about fifteen feet away.
I squinted and answered, “Yes.”
I couldn’t see squat. The guy’s body was hidden by the box. It was about eight feet high and three feet wide. I just saw the black toes of his sneakers, one foot flat on the ground and the other foot cradled leisurely on top of a rock.
“It’s so dark out here,” I said.
“You can’t be afraid of the dark?! Better not be. Night never ends, baby,” he replied, then laughed a bit. “Just toss me the money.”
“How do I know you’re not trying to rip me off? Huh? You might not know where Butter is!” My mama ain’t raise no pushover. I’d come this far and I wasn’t about to just roll over and play stupid. I saw the toes of his shoes as his feet shifted. Two seconds later something came flying at me. I dodged and it hit off the pole, landing at my feet. It was a piece of material, pink and white cotton, wrapped around a rock with a rubber band—a piece of Butter’s dress!
“Now, toss the money here!”
I put the rock in the bag, wrapped the rubber band around it, and threw the bag back like I was trying to go upside his head with it. Instead a long arm reached out and caught it in midair, snatching the bag behind the metal box that continued to shield his body.
“Where’s Butter?”
“Where’s tha rest at?” he shouted back,
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