Anatomy of a Girl Gang (9781551525303) (18 page)

Is this crazy? I asked Mac.

Yep. But it's also kinda genius.

Is it going to work?

Without a doubt.

The hard part was convincing Kayos. The whole actual kidnapping thing would probably be a cakewalk compared to that.

Look, it's a simple plan, I told her. We'll do up the ransom note and be ready to come and get her as soon as your parents go out.

What about me?

You'll be there. In the house. Say you fell asleep watching TV or whatever.

They're not gonna fall for that.

Sure they will, why wouldn't they?

It just seems too convenient. They'll think—

Don't worry. They'll be so upset they won't put it together.

And you're not gonna hurt her, right? Nothing's gonna happen to her …

Come on, Kayos! What do you take us for? We may be
gangster-ass muthafuckas, but we're not child abusers.

Yo, you gotta promise me that nothing's gonna happen to her, Mercy. Otherwise I'm out. For real. I'm not—

I promise.

Swear on your life.

I swear on my father's grave. My mother's too.

And on your life.

I swear on my life.

All of you. Promise. Kayos looked around the room like a cornered cat.

Z held up two fingers. Scout's honour.

I'm not fucking around, Z! Kayos leapt off the couch. If anything,
anything
happens to her I'll—

Chill, Kay, said Mac. Just chill. We're not gonna let anything happen to her. If she's your sister, she's our sister too. Okay? We're family. We'll take good care of her, alright? Mac went to where Kayos stood in the centre of the room and put her hand under her chin, forcing Kayos to look up and meet her eyes. Alright?

Alright.

Besides, I asked her, won't it be nice to get a little coin out of that rich-ass douchebag stepfather of yours? What's-his-fuck? Roger Jones?

Roger Jones sells homes!
Z yelled, raising her beer bottle to the sky.

Sly Girl laughed. We all laughed. Except Kayos.

How much are we gonna ask for in the ransom note? Kayos asked.

A cool million, I said.

She shook her head. That's too much. He doesn't have that.

Sure he does. Have you
seen
real estate prices in Vancouver?

He doesn't just have money like that lying around, Mercy.

Well, he'll have to get a loan then, I said.

Why don't we ask him for a reasonable amount? Something they can actually afford.

Kidnapping is not about making the ransom affordable, I said. It's about asking for what you want. And getting it. The alternative is not an option, so whatever the amount is, they'll pay it. They can re-mortgage the house if they have to.

Sounds like you've done this before, she mumbled.

Nope, I'm a kidnapping virgin! I raised my beer in a toast, and clinked it against everyone's bottle.

Not for long, said Z. She smiled at Mac. Mac put her arm around Z and pulled her close.

We need that money, Mac said, watching Kayos with careful eyes. For our new home. Once we get the cash, we can make a deposit on a condo right away, get the fuck out of here. We know they can afford it, Kayos. His ugly mug is on billboards all over the city, for fuck's sakes. We could probably ask for two mill and he'd pull it out of his ass.

But we're not greedy, Z said, grinning.

Outside, two people started screaming and swearing at each other, junkies fighting over money or drugs or both. I won't miss this place, I said. Not one little bit.

MAC

My neighbourhood is a ten-block hell, crawling with the rejects of society. Yeah, I wanna quit the DTES. Yeah, I wanna get the fuck out of Dodge. I've wanted to get out of here for as long as I've been alive. I want to live on a quiet street where people mow their lawns and barbeque on Saturdays, where they wash their cars, and where kids and dogs can run around and play and roll in the grass without getting pricked by a syringe. Is that too much to ask?

Z

itz Mac'$ birfday. ima pull out all da $topz. got a few bottlza champayne, da reeel good $hit, not dat cheapa$$ $parklee wine, got her a DQ cake w/ happy 18 Mac we ♥ U!!!! on it. & ima $how her my new peece i put up ju$t 4 her. itz her, but az a pin-up grrl. $uper $exy. wearing HI heelz & a red je$$ica rabbit dre$$. blOwing a $moking pi$tol in her hand. O ya. i did it on da wall of da $ugar factoree cuz $he told me $he goez down dere 2 think $umtimes. ju$t $tare out @ da portz & B alone. plu$ $hez $o $weet $o da $ugar factoreez perfect 4 a portrait of her. hahaha. O, god, gimme my Mac. & when she dyez, take her & cut her out in little starz & she'll make da face of heavn so fyne dat all da wurld will B in love w/ nyte! O god, i love her 2 much. i'm talking capital L-O-V-E, man. seerius. we gonna have fun 2nite tho, boiii! gonna treet my grrl ryte! thingz R $o good w/ her. evn tho all dis $hitz goin down, lyke $ly got fucked up real bad den we got robbed & lo$t evrything, i know itz gonna be OK cuz we got each other. ya, sure, we got da re$t of da grrlz 2, but me & Mac got each other 4 lyfe, know what i'm $ayin? i'm down 4 that grrl 4 lyfe. 4 real. & i know $he feels da $ame 4 me.

SLY GIRL

Mac's birthday was fun. I got real fucked up. Drank a bottle of champagne and passed out on the couch. I dreamt I was smokin crack and shootin heroin in the kitchen, and Mac saw me but she didn't care. She just drank some orange juice out of the carton in the fridge like she always does and left me alone. Then I had some nightmares. Real bad ones. About things that happened to me before. Fucked-up things. When I woke up around four in the morning, I was soaked in sweat. I felt like shit and tried to forget all my dreams and all my memories and my whole entire life, but I felt so awful. I wanted a hit real bad right then. All the drugs we had got stoled, though, so there was nothin in the house. Everyone else was in bed. Thug was pawin at the door, so I took him out for a little walk. I thought if I happened to run into someone I knew who had some shit, maybe I'd score. But I didn't have any cash on me. It all got took when we got robbed.

Down? A guy asked me when I passed the Latino Corner.

I stopped walkin. Nodded slowly. I hadn't done heroin since before I went to detox, almost a year ago, but I'd thought about it. Every. Single. Day.

Thug let out a low growl as the guy put his hands in his pockets. Whatchu want girl?

H.

How much?

Just a ten bag, but … I don't have any cash on me right now. Can you front me?

Fuck off, he snickered and waved his hand.

Please, man. I …

He looked me up and down, wrinkled up his nose. Then his eyes fell on Thug.

Thug looked up at him and growled again. I gave his leash a yank and he stopped.

Your dog. He patted Thug's head.

Yeaah.

I'll give you a ten bag for your dog.

I looked down at Thug and he looked up at me like he understood what was goin on, his amber eyes all shiny and scared. I looked at the guy. His bony yellow face was shadowed under the brim of his hat. He was no one I knew. I looked at Thug again and he whined.

I, uh, I …

I'll throw in a couple of Percocets, he said.

I watched Thug step back and forth around a puddle, his muscles ripplin beneath his coat. I thought about how Mac had said he was my responsibility. Thought about how I'd always wanted a dog. For as long as I could remember. And now that I finally had one, I was about to sell him for a hit of lousy Latino smack. I—I can't. Sorry.

Go on, get your fiending ass outta here then. He spat through his teeth, and a shiny wad landed on Thug's paw.

Me and Thug hurried away, and I ran him back to the house. I locked all the locks on the door and put the two chains across. I went to my room and curled up on my bed, buried my face in Thug's fur. I'm sorry, boy. I am so, so, sorry. And then the tears
came. I cried hard and long and let Thug lick the tears from my cheeks. Finally, I slept without dreamin.

MAC

I turned eighteen today. In the eyes of the law, I am officially an adult. And I gotta say, for someone who came up like I did, I got things pretty good. As shitty as life has been for me, things are pretty good right now. Hell, I'm surprised I even made it to eighteen, the way my life has played out. But tonight I actually felt like I have a real family. My girls are good to me. They got me an ice cream cake and champagne and we smoked fat blunts sealed with honey oil. Once we all had a good buzz on, Z took us down to the sugar factory and showed us this painting she'd just finished.

I have to wonder what's going through that girl's head sometimes, man. She had painted me up there, ten feet high for the world to see. I mean, it wasn't exactly me, it was like a cartoon, Playboy Bunny me, but you could still tell. There was no fuckin way I wanted my portrait up there for public consumption. I didn't want to be recognized on the street as that girl from the sugar factory graffiti, you know? I didn't want the cops to recognize me from it. I was having none of it. I wanted to tell her to paint over it. Right fuckin now. I looked at all the girls, trying to gauge their reactions. Decide how I should handle this.

Mercy had her arms crossed over her chest and one eyebrow raised, probably expecting me to explode. Sly Girl just stared up at it in awe; head tilted back, jaw dropped, her droopy eye rolled back. Kayos had her lips pursed; she looked like maybe she wanted to see herself up there instead. But then when I saw the look in Z's eyes, so hopeful, so proud, just bursting
with … with goodness and love, I knew I couldn't say anything. Except that it was amazing. Except, thank you.

We smoked a joint, then walked home, Z and me linking arms. She's changed me, that girl has.

Everyone proceeded to get shit-faced, and we made popcorn and played some old-school hip-hop tapes and danced around the living room with our clothes on backwards.

Later, in bed, snuggling under our blankets, Z asked me, So, my lady, how does it feel to be eighteen?

It's kind of strange, you know? Being stuck in this weird place between being a child and being an adult, and not really ever having been either.

MERCY

I had worked out all the logistics of the kidnapping, and on the weekend I stole a bunch of magazines. When I got home, Sly Girl and I worked on pasting together the ransom note:

On Saturday, Sly Girl would be at the library, waiting and watching for the drop. Kayos would be at home in Shaugnessy, wringing her hands, waiting for her parents to return from the
library. Mac, Z, and I would be in the house, taking care of the kid and waiting for Sly Girl's call. When it was safe, Sly Girl would pick up the backpack and go for a coffee at the Blenz in Library Square. I would meet her there, and drive her and the payload home. Later I'd steal a car and drop the kid off on the Jones' doorstep late at night—ring the bell and take off. No one would be hurt, and we'd be back on top of our finances. Then we could go condo shopping. Someone should congratulate me. It was the best and easiest money-making scheme I'd ever had.

KAYOS

Friday was a Pro-D day, so I didn't have school. In the afternoon, Mom was going to a bridal shower in Burnaby, and Roger would be at work. It was the perfect opportunity to get Laura out of the house. All morning I felt like shit. I couldn't eat, my stomach hurt, and a splintering headache chipped away at my brain.

What's wrong, sweetie? You don't seem yourself, Mom said.

Uh, cramps.

Oh, okay. Well, you take it easy today. Watch a movie or something. Take Laura to the park if you want, get some fresh air.

Yeah, sure.

Oh, and if you get a chance, can you throw a couple of loads of laundry in? Thanks, hon.

Mmhmm. I felt a plummeting elevator in my guts. Here I was, about to scam my own mother out of a million bucks. The least I could do was her laundry.