Rock Chick Renegade
Page 4

* * * * *
Roam, Sniff and Park were my boys, we were close. It took months but I worked hard and got them to trust me.
They’d been on the street for years but none of them was over sixteen. I’d rounded them into the Shelter, going day in and day out to 16th Street Mall, where they hung out, and talked to them. I got a lot of kids from the street into the Shelter, then into counseling, then to reunions with their parents (if it worked), then family counseling, then home (if it really worked).
Roam, Sniff and Park were never going to go home. They told me about their homes. Their homes were evil and there was no way I’d finagle that kind of reunion. So, I just worked at keeping them clean, safe, fed and educated.
That day, that, shitty, awful day when I arrived at King’s, I noticed Park wasn’t there and I knew that Roam and Sniff knew something.
I cornered Sniff, the weakest of the pack, and asked where Park was.
“Dunno,” Sniff said.
Park had a crush on me, I knew this and used it. It’s not that I thought I was all that, even though Auntie Reba and Nick told me I was, in Nick’s words, “extraordinarily beautiful”. He said this because he loved me. I did have a mirror, though, and even though I didn’t think I was the hottest of the hotties, I was nothing to sneeze at. I had Dad’s black hair but, on me, because I wore it long, it had a bit of wave. I had Mom’s violet blues eyes and pale skin and Mom’s curves too. I wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants but no one was going to hand me a bag to put over my head either.
To be honest, I had a crush on Park too, but obviously not the same kind as he had on me.
He was funny, sweet and smart as hell. He made me laugh so hard my stomach ached and he looked at me in a way that made me know I was making a difference.
I was beginning to realize I wasn’t going to save the world but I sure as hell was going to save Park, even if it killed me. I knew I should have boundaries but I loved that kid. I loved all three of them.
Park knew I’d be at King’s that day. He wouldn’t miss a chance to see me.
“Sniff, no pudding cup for you if you don’t spill,” I threatened.
Sniff liked his pudding cups.
“Dunno, Law. Just, not here.”
The sacrifice of the pudding cup was a surprise and heralded bad tidings. Sniff knew something was going on and Park could be problematic. He was too smart for his own good and needed challenges to keep his active mind moving, especially moving away from a life that was pretty much shit. He got in trouble a lot, searching for adventure and release and a way to get away from it all. I had my hands full with him; I had my hands full with all three of them.
I grabbed the material of Sniff’s overlarge sweatshirt at his arm and dragged him to Roam.
“Let’s go boys. We’re finding Park.”
They came with me mainly because it meant they could ride in Hazel.
We found Park, it took hours, we searched all his places, and there were a fair few, but we found him.
I’ll never forget it.
The syringe was resting in the alley by his lifeless hand.
Bad dope.
He was stiff, rigor mortis had set in. His eyes were open, his usually beautiful skin was pale.
I took one long look at him and then shouted, “God dammit!”
Sniff puked.
Roam put both of his palms to the top of his head, his eyes never leaving the dead body of his friend.
I cursed a bit more (okay, maybe a lot more) then crouched low by Park and stared at him.
It didn’t even look like him. I’d never met a person with more life than Park. Seeing him lifeless was like looking at another human being.
I dropped my head and cursed some more.
Then I pulled out my phone and called the police.
When I was done, I stared at Park again.
After awhile, when the vision of him was burned on my brain, I closed my eyes and found the vision of him was burned on the insides of my eyelids.
That’s when I knew what I had to do.
It just came to me.
I got out of my crouch and looked at Roam.
“Who sold him the stuff?”
Roam was black, tall, gangly and when he filled out, would be a looker. Sniff was white, overly-thin, short and had acne. Park had been Mexican-American, medium height and already handsome, if he’d reached an age, he’d have been a knockout.
I knew from my work with him that Roam was sliding across the edge. I never knew if I was going to get through to him. Every day I went to King’s, I held my breath, hoping he’d be there as that was the only indication that what I was doing was working.
Roam’s black eyes stared at me but he didn’t say a word.
I put my hand to his chest and shoved him against the wall of the building, next to Park’s body. Then I got in his face.
Roam was fifteen, but five inches taller than me and, if he tried, he could take me.
He didn’t try.
“Who sold him the f**king dope?” I demanded.
“Don’t know his name.”
“Can you take me to him?”
Roam’s eyes moved, quick as a flash, surprised but not wanting to show it.
“Law,” he said and that was all he said and I knew he could.
“Tonight. You take me to him,” I said.
Roam’s face went hard and I knew why. Roam and Park had been friends since they could remember. They knew the bad times at home and the better-but-still-shit times on the street. Sniff had come later. New on the street, Park had taken him under his wing. The three had been inseparable ever since.
Until now.
“Yeah,” Roam agreed and I knew why he did that too and that wasn’t going to happen.
“You aren’t getting involved. You show me who it is and then you’re a shadow.”
“Law,” Roam repeated.
“No, Roam. This isn’t a discussion.”
“Ain’t no place for white bitches. These people’ll f**k you up,” Roam told me.
“Don’t worry about me. And don’t call me a bitch, it’s rude.”
What could I say? I was still the adult in the situation.
That night, Roam showed me who it was.
I didn’t go after him. I wasn’t that stupid.
Instead, I followed him and I planned.
I also went to Zip’s Gun Emporium and bought a gun.
Zip was as old as time, white, short, wrinkled, skinny and mostly bald except for about a dozen long, white hairs that were attached randomly to his skull.
Zip watched me as I handled the guns in his shop, making my decision.
“You ever held a gun?” he asked.