“What’s the idea?” Mina hollers huskily, squinting as though she forgot to put her contact lenses on this morning.
Suzy is not sure what to say. She has no business following this woman. She can play innocent and keep on walking, or she can make up something, anything that may open doors. Doors to what, though? What is she looking for, why is she here?
Say something about the KK—a voice in her head. Be an insider.
“Those guys… Have you heard anything new?”
Glaring at Suzy, Mina asks sharply, “Who are you?” Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve been told to come here for the scoop.” Suzy comes up with the first thing that sounds plausible.
“Who told you that?” Mina asks suspiciously.
Recalling one of the names Detective Lester mentioned, Suzy takes a chance. “My man’s in trouble… Maddog.”
“You’re Maddog’s girl?” Mina then steps back a little, contemplating Suzy in her plain dark coat, black scarf, and matching hat. Her eyes pore over Suzy’s face, free of makeup except a touch of rosy lip gloss, most of which has faded by now. It is obvious that Suzy does not belong here. Women like Suzy do not belong to a gangster named Maddog. Finally, Mina snaps, “I’ve never seen you before.”
“I’ve never seen you either,” Suzy retorts with purposeful terseness. It works. Mina looks stumped and says uncertainly, “What’s come over Maddog? He likes his girls with a bit more meat on their bones.”
“He likes me fine,” Suzy says with what she hopes is the right tone of arrogance.
“I don’t know who told you to come here,” says Mina, shaking her head. “Johnny’s got nothing to do with it. Tell Maddog it’s not Johnny.”
So there must have been some sort of infighting. According to Detective Lester, the AOCTF busted the gang on an anonymous tip. It seems that Maddog believes a guy named Johnny was involved.
“Girl, it’s none of my business.” She clicks her tongue with a pitying look at Suzy. “But if I were you, I’d wash my hands now. Maddog’s a goner.” She begins climbing up the steps, then halts suddenly and turns around, leaning closer. Suzy moves away instinctively. Something about the woman’s sallow skin makes her cringe, as though its secret is contagious. Crunching up her face, Mina says slowly, “Wait a minute. I’ll be damned.”
Suzy stands still, her heart thumping.
A long, cool gaze. Mina cocks her head, muttering to herself, “No… she wouldn’t dare.” Scanning Suzy’s face once more, she whispers, “It’s not Mariana who sent you, is it?”
“Hey, I told you I’m here for my man…” Suzy is about to protest when she remembers.
Mariana.
Grace’s code name for marijuana.
May I be excused? I promised my friend Mariana that we’ll do our homework together.
“Who’s this Mariana?” Suzy stammers. “Maybe… I know her.”
Mina purses her lips, as if in distaste, and spits out, “Boykiller, we all called her. She used to hang out here back in the old days.”
Suzy tries to keep her composure, to stop herself from lunging at this woman with questions. This aging call girl in blinding red. Suzy swallows hard before asking, “And this Mariana—how old was she?” A faint voice, feeble almost.
“Not the legal age, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mina says derisively. “A schoolgirl gone wild. She thought she was something special ’cause she only screwed big shots. That was her thing, she chose her own guys, no money was ever good enough. Johnny should’ve ditched her when her father took her away.”
“Her father?” Suzy repeats, feeling the height of the stairs suddenly.
“I’m sure she put on the whole show just to get caught.” Mina rolls her eyes.
“Her father… came here?”
“You sure you’re Maddog’s girl?” Mina says, studying Suzy with a puzzled smile. “Listen, I don’t care who you are, but if you see Mariana, tell her to leave Johnny alone.” Then, fixing Suzy with a nearly pleading look, she adds, “He’s no KK’s bellboy. Those days are over.”
“Johnny, was he her lover?”
“Lover?” she retorts with a sneering laugh. “More like a chauffeur, the way she always made him drive her home so early. She never gave him the time of the day.”
“Because?”
“Because she was a bitch,” Mina blurts out bitterly. “If it hadn’t been for her, he would’ve never crossed Maddog all those years ago and…” She pauses, as if trying to shake off her anger. “Doesn’t matter, ’cause he’s come back to be with me now. He won’t crawl back to her,” she mumbles unconvincingly. “Definitely a changed man.”
May I be excused? I promised my friend Mariana that we’ll do our homework together.
The girl who used to hang out at the KK’s bar.
The troubled one who couldn’t wait to get caught by her father.
The boykiller face who slept with the gang for money, and yet picked her own guys.
“Look, I don’t want you coming around here again.” Mina suddenly lowers her voice, her eyes darting nervously, as though she is afraid that Johnny may show up any minute. She seems to ponder something for a few seconds, then says, “If you run into her, tell her to deal with me instead,” quickly scribbling a pager number on a piece of paper and handing it to Suzy. She adds in a softer tone, “Girl, about your Maddog, forget it. Do yourself a favor, get yourself a new man.”
The cold sweat running down her back is an icy shock. Suzy becomes aware that her body is trembling. Leaning her right arm against the wall, she tilts her face a little, as though burrowing under a shadow. “And this Mariana—she looked like me?”
A wry smile crinkling the corner of her mouth, Mina repeats, “Weird, the more I look at you, the more you remind me of her.” Then she adds, as if in vengeance, “Really, you could be the same girl.”
19.
THE HAND ON HER RIGHT SHOULDER is a gentle one. Must be Mom, or Dad finally home. She must have fallen asleep at the doorstep. She must have forgotten her key, and school must have let out early, and Grace must have sneaked out again. So she must have sat here and waited with her homework spread out, and still, when the homework was done, still no one came home, and she must have lain down for a while thinking she was hungry and it was getting darker and the draft from the hallway window sharper, and she was afraid that no one would remember, that no one would find her here, and then sleep must have overtaken her, taken her breath away to an even darker place, where she saw the seven stars in a circle like the misshapen Big Dipper that came loose to join hands to finally surround her, who lay weeping because she remembered where she had seen them before.
But neither Mom nor Dad. Can’t be, they’ve been shot. They will never come home again. When Suzy opens her eyes, her face still wet with tears, it is Mr. Kim stooping over her.
“I tried to wake you, but you were crying in your sleep,” he says.
“Oh,” she mutters, blinking slowly.
“How long have you been waiting?” he asks, turning the key in the door lock.
“I don’t know, what time is it?” she says, making a feeble attempt to get up; the ground beneath feels strangely muddy.
“Six-thirty,” he says, glancing at his watch. “You’re lucky I’m home early today.”