Michelle Mankin: Irresistible Refrain

War shifted, the sheets rustling softly as he turned on his side facing away from me. Being alone in the dark was something I’d grown accustomed to. He fell asleep quickly, the sound of his breathing evening out. As the lonely minutes of the night droned slowly on toward morning, I remained awake. My thoughts drifted to Bryan as they often did. If possible he’d gotten even better looking since I’d seen him last. His light brown hair trimmed short into a faux hawk was the perfect style to offset his gorgeous greyish green eyes and that shadowed masculine jaw of his. It was disheartening to discover that the years apart hadn’t lessened the hold he had over me.

I’d idolized Bryan Jackson for as long as I could remember. He treated me with the same respect he did his own sisters, and I loved him for that. He and my brother were the only protectors I had in a neighborhood where drug deals and drive bys were commonplace, in a world where even my own apartment hadn’t been safe.

9 years ago

“Hi, Lace.” Ms. Jackson looked up at me as I entered the apartment with the key she’d given Dizzy and me years before. She’d wanted to be sure we had somewhere safe to go whenever our mom was strung out.

“Bryan ready?” I asked, wondering where he was.

“He’s in the shower. He should be out any minute.” She laid aside the pants she’d been sewing on. They were an old pair of mine that she’d been adding material to so I could wear them longer. “I can’t believe he won Metallica tickets. Are you as excited as he is about going?”

I nodded.

“Come and sit with me.” Ms. Jackson patted the cushion beside her. Though it had a new slipcover, it was the same old couch I’d buried my head in the first time I’d met Bryan. The time I told him I was going to marry him someday. That was still my plan. Only now I was mature enough that I didn’t speak every random thought out loud.

I took a seat next to my future mother-in-law and plucked at the loose threads on my frayed jeans. Grownups still made me nervous. She touched my hand and smiled. Her smile was just like his. It made her eyes sparkle. His mom was really nice. Nothing at all like mine. She was always doing things to help Dizzy and me out without making it seem like it was charity.

“How’s school?”

“Fine.”

“Bry says you made the top grades in your class again.”

I shrugged, but inside I was always pleased by Bryan’s praise. “In everything but math. I hate it.”

There was a long silent pause. Finally, I heard the shower shut off. The one bedroom apartments at the University House high rise were small, even by public housing standards. All had the same layout, too. The kitchen, dining, and living room were in one room with the bedroom and bathroom down a short hallway in the back. Bryan’s family of four was cramped inside the tight space. His sisters and mom shared the only bedroom while he slept on the couch.

Despite the shared floor plan, Bryan’s apartment and mine couldn’t have been more different. Bryan’s mom was always adding little decorative touches like the slipcover that transformed their place from an apartment to a home. My apartment was a disaster zone, littered with trash, dirty laundry, and my mom’s pipes and needles. Whenever she was on a long binge, like her current one, it got even worse. Dangerous, paranoid, and unpredictable, she holed up in her room for days. She didn’t even bathe. It was a relief to be able to escape, even if it was only for a little while.

“Hey, Lace,” Bryan acknowledged as he walked around the couch, running a brush through his wet hair. “Where’s Dizzy?”

“Should be here soon.” Dizzy had a weekend job bussing tables and washing dishes at Mr. Spinelli’s Greek restaurant on the Ave. “He’s changing clothes.” Though at twelve he was way too young to officially hold a job, Mr. Spinelli overlooked that and paid Dizzy in cash. That money helped us purchase the basic things we needed like food, toiletries, and school supplies.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump from the apartment above.

My apartment.

I froze, eyes to the ceiling, listening intently. I heard yelling, and then an ominous crash. I jumped up, my heart racing. “I’d better check and see what’s going on.” I hurried to the door, throwing a quick glance at Bryan. His worried expression probably matched my own. He was the only one who really knew how bad things were up there.

“Lace, wait.” Ms. Jackson’s voice followed me out into the hall, but I ignored her. I flew up the stairwell and burst through the door of my apartment. Fear transformed into full blown terror as I took in the scene. Two drug dealers I recognized stood at opposite sides of the room, one stood near my mother, the other held Dizzy who was struggling to break free.

“Lace, get out of here quick!” he yelled.

I bolted for the door but I wasn’t fast enough. Two meaty hands landed on my shoulders and I found myself spun around looking at the long stringy haired pusher.

“She’s a pretty one, Mama.” His rancid breath nearly made me puke as he leered down at me. I started to shake.

“Leave her alone!” Dizzy shouted while twisting violently in the arms of the wide bodied man restraining him. “She’s just a kid.”

“Sean likes ‘em young,” the wide bodied dealer explained. His fat lips curled into a sneer.

Fingers digging painfully into the sensitive flesh of my upper arms, Sean backed me up against the wall. Bile burned the back of my throat as he let go of one arm to touch my cheek. Warm tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes.

“Mama,” Sean threw a meaningful glance her way. “If you want your candy. I get your daughter. That’s the deal.”

“No!” Dizzy shouted. “Let her go, you piece of shit.”

“Shut him the fuck up, Trace,” Sean ordered harshly.

I heard a sharp metallic click. My eyes widened as I watched Trace bring a switchblade up to my brother’s throat. My chest got so tight I could barely breathe. I shook my head.

“You heard him little man,” Trace warned my brother. “Be quiet.” A volcano of ineffectual anger erupted inside Dizzy’s eyes.

I looked to my mother for help. “Please, Momma,” I pleaded. “Tell them no. Make them go away.”

Eyes dull and lifeless, my mother’s gaze went right through me as if I didn’t even exist. Sean yanked my arm and pulled me toward the bedroom.

“No,” I rasped, trying to slow him down by dragging my feet. “I’ll scream.”

“You better not, or I’ll have Trace carve up that brother of yours,” Sean’s fingernails scratched my arms making more tears sting my eyes. “And stop your bawling. Tears don’t change a damn thing in this shitty world. You’re old enough to know better.”

He kicked the door closed and had me pinned to the bed within seconds. I struggled at first, but stopped when I realized he seemed to like that. His body was so heavy on top of mine that I found it difficult to breathe, and when I felt his slimy hands slithering up under my shirt, I stopped wanting to try.

I turned my head toward the door, withdrew inside myself, and pretended I wasn’t even there. Just as I felt the welcome blackness begin to take me under, I heard a heavy pounding and voices outside the door.

“Police.” That one word was my lifeline. It gave me the strength to renew my struggle.

Sean threw a furtive glance at the window, but our apartment was on the eleventh floor, so that wasn’t going to work out very well for him. Evidently reaching the same conclusion, he gave me a hard shake before he jumped off me. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll come back for you and your brother. I know a guy who likes little boys. Understand?”