Undergrounders (13 page)

I felt my own legs tremble. I didn’t have five bucks, and like a jerk I’d thrown two bucks away after the game.

“I’ll borrow it. Can I go ask? Please. Give me a second.”

He laughed real low. “Sure, little Mouse. Take your time.”

I hated Rigger so much, and that stupid chair so much, and this stupid Underground. This was the day of jerks.

I hurried to my store. I’d never been so glad to see Will and Rose. Will was leaning against the wall, and
Rose was lying on the floor. I forced myself to sound like nothing was wrong. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

Rose squinted up at me. Will folded his arms; and neither answered my question. That unnerved me a bit. I coughed a few times to cover up and decided to just hit them up for the cash.

“I’m a little short today for Rigger. You know what he’s like. I left my hockey bag here one night and now he wants five bucks. Can I borrow it and I’ll pay you back tomorrow for sure?”

All I got was more silence.

“I ain’t playing hockey no more so I got lots of time to hawk the money, and it’s getting warmer so … no problem.” I couldn’t stop my voice from quivering. “Do you have the money?”

Rose turned her back to me.

“Why don’t you ask your buddy Lewis?” Will said. He seemed to be laughing at me. Did he know about Lewis and me having that fight?

“I could, sure. I just figured since we were …”

“We were what, Mouse?” Will said, real harsh.

“Since we were friends, and lived in this store together … and I’ve bought you stuff … and …”

“I am not inclined to provide you with credit at the moment,” Will said. “Perhaps you could make a withdrawal from your bank account — or I encourage you to ask your friend Lewis — or J.J. for that matter.”

Rose laughed. A sinking feeling trickled down my chest into my stomach. Undergrounders always lent money for rent. But then Will was a jerk.

“Whatever,” I snapped. “Don’t ask me for help the next time you need cash.”

Rose’s laughing totally unnerved me. Everyone seemed to be in on some joke except me, and just when I needed them to be serious. Lewis was my last hope. We were buddies, even if we had a bit of a fight. He always looked out for me, and this was nothing for him. Besides, he really did owe me something for the stuff I stole.

As I headed back to Executive Alley, Creeper was coming the other way. Now here’s a guy who’d owed me money for like two months.

“Hey, Creeper. How’s it going?”

He grimaced. “It’s … going like any other freakin’ day.”

He tried to walk past me and I grabbed his arm.

“Can I get that three dollars I lent you? Remember? I lent you two bucks, and then another one. That’s three bucks.”

“I gave you a subway ticket.”

“Okay. Then you owe me $2.25.”

“No.”

That word hurt like a slap in the face. “You owe me the money. Come on. I need it. Rigger’s being totally lame and I gotta pay him or he said I can’t stay tonight.”

Creeper shrugged. “Then go,” he said, and tried to walk away again.

I grabbed his arm, and he shoved me hard in the chest and pulled his arm free. “Touch me again, and I’ll
break you in half.”

“What’s wrong with everyone?” That shaky sound was in my voice, and I couldn’t stop this panicky feeling from bugging my stomach.

Creeper raised his eyes to the ceiling and then leaned forward and whispered, “You’re jacked, Mouse. Rigger said. You should just get your stuff and go.” And with that he went into his store.

My legs were numb, I couldn’t move, and I had a bizarre feeling that I had to go pee. The panic in my gut had taken over my whole body. Jacked meant Rigger kicked you out for good. In my time, only one kid had been jacked, and he’d been caught stealing from Executive Alley. I hadn’t done anything.

I needed Lewis.

As luck would have it he was standing outside his store eating a sandwich. I ran up to him.

“Lewis … Lewis …” I stammered. “Creeper told me Rigger wants to jack me. Do you know what’s going on? I mean, I didn’t do nothing. Why is he asking for five bucks when I don’t owe him a penny? I only left my bag up top for one night, and he’s gone crazy about it. I’ll pay, but I need a loan or he’s going to jack me.”

I think I was crying, but I was so messed I wasn’t sure. Lewis took no notice of me and chewed his sandwich. I waited for him to speak, which was painful because now I had to go pee real bad. Finally, he swallowed his food.

“So Mouse wants Lewis to help him? Is that it?”

All I could muster was a nod.

“And when Lewis asked Mouse for help, what did Mouse say?”

“I’ll help you anytime,” I said weakly.

He poked me in the chest. “Did you help me, Mouse, or not?”

“I was a jerk. I admit it, totally. I was tired from running, and scared. I trust you. I’ll help you with whatever. We can … do you need a package delivered? Or we can go to the electronics store?”

“You’ve been replaced, Mouse, but thanks for the generous offer.” That’s when I noticed J.J. stretched out on Lewis’s couch, grinning at me all smug-like, and laughing like all the others.

It was over. Lewis had actually sold me out, all because I wouldn’t steal for him.

I marched slowly to Rigger.

“Have we managed to borrow the money?” he mocked.

I shook my head.

“Then it’s time for you to leave.”

“Can I come back tomorrow with the money?” It didn’t sound like my voice.

Rigger yawned. “You’re not dependable. I think it’s time for you to find a new place to sleep.”

There it was — officially jacked.

“Why?” I had to know.

He looked surprised. “Lewis got you in — and Lewis got you out.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t stand being here; the sight of Rigger made me beyond angry. If only I could grow big
and smash his face to pieces and then I’d sit in his throne chair and tell people what to do. But I was twelve years old, and the growing would have to wait.

I went back to my store to get my stuff.

“Here Mousey, Mousey, Mousey,” Fitzy called out in a high voice, and Happy D began giggling like an idiot as usual. Then, as if things couldn’t get worse, Will was lying in my sleeping bag and he had this stupid goofy grin like he just won a million dollars in the lottery.

“I’m leaving,” I said to Will and Rose. “I know you think it’s funny, but Rigger’s jacked me, or I think Lewis did it. So laugh away — and real funny with the sleeping bag.” Will rolled over as if he was going to sleep. “Real funny. Now give it over.” He didn’t move. I grabbed the end of the bag and began to pull on it. Will sat up violently and took hold of my wrist, and for all my struggling I couldn’t pull away.

“Give the poor kid his freakin’ sleeping bag.” Rose was on her knees glaring at her brother.

He let go of me, but not my sleeping bag.

“Stop torturing him. Why are you so ugly and mean?” she yelled.

Will spun toward her. “
Why?
Because we’re living like freakin’ animals, underground, hawking on the streets, freezing cold all the time! Because I gotta sneak around so W5 don’t kill me, and we gotta kiss that jerk Rigger’s butt, so he lets us in every night. Because I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a real bed once in a while and eating as much as I want, and I didn’t ask to have a dad
who got drunk all the time …”

Rose was crying but not making a sound.

“Why am I so mean?” Will hissed. “It’s called staying alive, and I don’t see why I have to sleep in some thin, pathetic, dirty little sleeping bag.”

“He’s a little kid,” Rose answered. “He’ll die out there without his sleeping bag. You want to kill him?”

“I couldn’t care less,” Will spat back. But then he climbed out and threw the sleeping bag in my face. “There — happy?” he growled at Rose, and he took his sleeping bag from the corner and began to spread it out.

Rose and my eyes met. She looked like nothing had happened, and without a word lay back down.

A minute later I was climbing up the ladder with my skates slung over my shoulder, stick in hand, and the rest of my stuff in my knapsack. I don’t even know why I was taking my hockey stuff. I just couldn’t stand to leave anything here.

I clambered over the top and looked down. I hated this place. Will was right. We lived like animals.

But at least it was a home. Now I was a Streeter.

I stared in the window for a minute. The red neon S in the Baxter’s sign flickered on and off. So much had happened since I’d stolen the skates. It was hard to believe I’d been better off then. I yawned for like the millionth time today. I hadn’t slept too well last night; I was too nervous someone was going to steal my stuff, and a doorway isn’t a comfortable place to sleep.

The most important thing was to eat. I hadn’t had a thing since yesterday before the game. Funny how important the game had been, and now I couldn’t care less — I had way bigger problems than playing hockey with a bunch of idiots. I needed to hawk some money real bad. I kept walking for a while and then stopped by the hill at Cedarview Park to watch some guys skating around on the outdoor rink.

Just then something thumped me in the stomach and all my wind left me and I could hardly breathe. I dropped to my knees, and a boot stepped hard on my fingers. I tried to pull my hand away.

“Let go. Let go,” I begged.

He did — and I wished he hadn’t.

Because staring down at me was W5.

“This morning I met Lewis’s new delivery boy. I guess we don’t get to see you no more.” He leaned over
and slapped me in the face, and I could taste blood in my mouth. “And I guess you ain’t got Lewis to protect you no more either — not that I care about him. That dude is almost as lame as you.”

He laughed real ugly and then he kicked me in the ribs. The pain went up my side into my skull and then all the way back down to my feet. I couldn’t think straight.

“And the new kid isn’t so dumb as to mess with me — and he doesn’t think he’s a tough guy.”

He pulled me to my knees by my hair and punched me in the eye. It hurt too much to cry.

“You think you can mess with me and get away with it? Do you?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

W5 began to mimic me and his crew all laughed. “Let’s see how this rock rolls,” he said, and the next thing I knew I was tumbling down a steep hill, bouncing off the hard, crusty snow and ice. My cheek stung as I got up — I must have scraped it on the way down — and my head was all wobbly.

“Have fun with him, boys. I gotta split,” W5 said, loud enough for me to hear, and he walked off.

Scrunchy Face and three of his friends looked down at me from the top of the hill.

“We’ll give you a ten-second head start before we come down and beat some respect into you,” Scrunchy Face yelled.

“Why the head start?” one friend said loudly.

Scrunchy Face made a big deal of shrugging his
shoulders. “So let’s do it.”

They came running after me. All I really wanted to do was curl up and cry — definitely not a good plan. Instead, I ran across the field, but they were behind me in no time, the sound of their feet on the snow getting louder and louder.

“Look at the little guy go.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Nowhere to hide this time.”

They were right. No garbage bin to jump into. I figured the change room, which was uphill and over to my right, was my only hope. Maybe someone would be there. I turned that way and began scampering up the hill, praying I wouldn’t slip and fall.

About halfway up I lost my footing on a patch of ice, and flopped to my knees. It hurt like anything, but I was too terrified to care. I began crawling up the hill, which actually worked better than walking, although Scrunchy Face and his buds thought it was hilarious.

“He’s so scared he’s crawling like a baby.”

“You need a diaper change?”

They could laugh away, and my knees were burning, but crawling got me to the top way before them, and I sprinted my guts out across the parking lot and into the change room.

Empty!

I froze — rooted to the floor like an ice statue — in the middle of the room, trapped, with nowhere to run, no one to help me. I had that pee feeling again.

Scrunchy Face opened the door, hands on his knees,
breathing heavy. “That run is gonna cost you ten head shots.” He turned to his friends. “I’m tired of chasing this shrimp. Let’s break his legs so he stays in one place.”

They all laughed like a bunch of monkeys.

“You leave now — or I call police.”

The janitor held his mop like a sword and he pointed it at them. Scrunchy Face took a step forward — and so did the janitor.

Something about that janitor convinced Scrunchy Face to back down. Something about him was tough. Scrunchy Face thumbed toward the door and said, “Maybe we’ll continue this party later. Talk to you soon, Mouse.” He nodded at me a few times, and off they went. I watched them skid down the hill and back across the field.

“I not see you for long time,” the janitor said.

“I … I guess … Well, I was playing hockey with a team and … I guess I didn’t have time to play here much … anymore.”

“You good player. I play hockey very much in Soviet Union when I am young man.”

“Thanks. And thanks for saving me from those guys. They … well … they don’t like me too much.”

He sat on a bench and leaned his head toward me. “You are okay? You are hurt?”

“I’m okay. Banged my knees a bit is all. Those guys are too slow to catch me, anyway.”

He looked at me. “It look like they catch you little bit.”

It was funny how he said it, and it made me laugh. “Maybe a little. But I’m okay now. Thanks again.” I looked outside and couldn’t see Scrunchy Face or his friends anymore. “I gotta go. I’ll see ya.”

He nodded and went back to his mop and pail, and I went out the door. I waved from the outside and he waved back. The clang of the closing door bugged me a bit. I was back on the streets.

I ran as fast as I could, away from Scrunchy Face and his friends, ignoring the pain in my knees. I ran until my lungs were about to explode, until I could barely breathe, until I was almost sick, until I was so tired I forgot what had happened to me.