“They weren’t always customers, but-yes. Alice knew they had a taste for illegal substances. And she figured out how to capitalize on it. She had to find a way to make money, after all.”
Prairie sighed and smoothed down the fabric of her jacket, the memories clearly taking a toll on her.
“But you got out,” I said. “And…”
I almost didn’t say it. I bit my lower lip and considered staying quiet, letting the past rest. It was probably the right thing to do. But in the space of a few hours I had learned that I had lost more than I ever knew I had. So when I spoke again, my voice was bitter.
“And you left my mom here to deal with Alice by herself.”
Like me.
Prairie recoiled as if I had slapped her. “Hailey! I-It wasn’t like that. You have to know that I loved your mother more than anything in the world. I would never have left, if-if-”
“If what?”
“The thing that happened. It would have been dangerous for both of us, if I stayed.”
What could have been so bad that she had to leave town? “Did you kill someone or something?”
Sharp anguish flashed across Prairie’s face, and for a second I regretted asking. If she was a murderer, maybe I didn’t want to know.
“No,” she said quietly. “Nothing like that, but what I did made it impossible for me to stay here. You just have to believe me. And I was going to come for your mom.”
“It’s easy to make promises,” I said. “You told her you’d come back for her, and you didn’t. Now you’re trying to come in here and, what, rescue me? Because you feel guilty about what happened to my mom?”
I could feel my heart squeezing and hear my voice going high and thin. I knew I should stop. But it would be way too easy to give in to what Prairie promised-and way too dangerous. If I made the wrong decision, it wasn’t just me that would be hurt. It was Chub, too.
Before Prairie could answer, I turned away from her. “Forget it. I don’t want to know. I’m going to bed.”
“Hailey-”
“If you’re still here tomorrow, not that I expect you to be…”
I didn’t finish the sentence, because I didn’t know what to say. The truth was that I desperately wanted to believe in her. I wanted her to rescue me. But I was afraid that if I let myself trust her, she’d disappear like every other good thing I’d ever wished for.
Suddenly I was tired. Very tired.
“Hailey, we can go as soon as Rattler and Dun leave. Alice won’t wake up once she’s out. You know that.” Prairie sounded desperate.
“What I know is that I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I said, edging past her to the door. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”
When I came back, Prairie took a small toiletry kit from the bag she’d brought with her and went to the bathroom without saying a word. She looked exhausted. While she was gone, I fixed up a bed for her as well as I could. I put my sleeping bag down as a pad and added some old quilts and gave her my pillow. I made myself a pillow out of a sweatshirt.
When Prairie came back into the room, she looked at the makeshift bed and gave me a little smile.
There was one more thing I needed to do-I had to see what Gram and Dun and Rattler were up to before I could sleep. I slipped into the hall and peeked around the corner into the kitchen. The beer-can pile had grown, and Dun was slumped way down in his chair. Rattler was sitting at the table with an ashtray loaded high with butts, drinking another glass of water. Gram was saying something to him, low and serious, but his expression was stony. I wasn’t sure Dun was even awake.
As I watched, something strange happened: Rattler suddenly raised his head and stared straight ahead, right toward where I was hiding. His eyes lost their focus and he squinted as though it hurt, and he held up a palm to Gram to make her stop talking.
“Who knows I’m here?” he demanded.
“Nobody,” Gram said, chugging her beer. Some dribbled down her chin.
“No, there’s-there’s-You got that back door locked?”
“Yeah.”
“Something’s not right. A car…”
“Nah, that’s just her car.” Gram yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth. “That damn foreign thing.”
Rattler shook his head. “Men. It’s men in it.”
Gram reached for a fresh beer, untangling it from the plastic rings that held the six-pack together. Even that effort was almost too much for her. I was always amazed that as frail as she was, she could drink so much.
“You’re rusty,” Gram said. “Ain’t nothin’ happened around here in so long, you’re seeing things.”
Rattler shook his head impatiently and scowled. I shrank back into the hall-I couldn’t believe Gram wasn’t scared of him.
“I ain’t rusty, you damn woman.”
“Okay, then you’re just plum wrong. It happens.”
“It happens to the others, Alice-not me.”
Gram cackled, a sound I knew well. When she was drunk she thought plenty of things were funny.
I eased backward as quietly as I could, my heart pounding. In my room, Prairie was sitting on the floor, a quilt pulled up over her knees.
“Prairie, Rattler was talking to Gram. He says-”
But what had he said, exactly? Nothing specific, but I was thinking of the rumors, the women stumbling home barefoot in the chilly dawn.
“He’s just so creepy,” I whispered.
Prairie nodded. She didn’t seem surprised. “I don’t want you to worry about him. Let me worry about it. I’d lay odds that Dun’s passed out by now-is he?”
I nodded, my heart thudding in my throat. “I think so.”
“Okay, so one down, and Alice probably isn’t far behind. Rattler’s going to get bored sooner or later.”
“I wish he’d just leave.”
“I know,” she said. “Me too. But let me worry about them. You need to rest, if you can.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I lay down and Prairie turned the lights out, but there was enough moonlight coming in the window that I could still see her outline. She lay on her back and I could see her chest rise and fall steadily as she breathed.
“Good night, Hailey,” she said. “I’m glad we’re together.”
I didn’t answer at first. Her words had a strange effect on me-even though she’d brought even more chaos into my life, her voice was soothing, and there was a part of me that wanted very much to believe she’d come to help us. That I had some sort of family besides Gram-real family, the kind that cared about one another, like other people had.
“Good night,” I finally mumbled.
A little later, before I drifted off to sleep, I peeked at Prairie. She wasn’t lying on her back anymore. She was leaning on her side, up on her elbow, and staring at the doorknob. I closed my eyes again.
The next thing I knew, a scream tore through my dreams.
CHAPTER 11
IT WAS COMING from the other side of my bedroom door, and it sounded like Gram.
Prairie bolted to my side, clapping a hand over my mouth. Before I could protest she leaned in close and whispered, “Quiet. Take Chub in the closet and close the door and stay there. Don’t come out.”
“But-”
“Do it, Hailey. Please.”
Chub was a heavy sleeper-once he was out, he could sleep through anything. I picked him up, which took some effort because he’d gotten so big, and he snuggled in next to my neck, his skin hot and damp.
I glanced back, but Prairie was gone; the door to the room was open a few inches. My heart thudded as I went to the closet.
I yanked a bunch of clothes off their hangers, put them on the floor and laid Chub on them, covering him with a long sweater that I tucked in like a blanket. I kissed his cheek and then left the closet, closing the door almost all the way.