It was still pretty early to be watching for those types yet, but Gaze’s father’s gait was definitely off balance. I looked over my shoulder to see Gaze turn abruptly away from his dad and storm up the rest of the stairs.
“Wait, no. It was just a client. A celebration drink. I’m celebrating a big deal. We’re gonna get some great stuff for the new apartment. Gaze? Gaze come back.” Gaze’s father was speaking to no one, because his son was long gone.
I headed the rest of the way home. I had to figure out something for dinner. Maybe just tabletop mac and cheese so I didn’t have to fire up the oven.
By the time I got home, all that was left of my mother was her uniform and a Post-it note on the fridge. Hey Pix, got called in to cover a shift. Have a good night. I love you.
I sighed. There was a ten dollar bill under a magnet on the fridge as well. It was Mom’s way of making up for not spending the night together. I could skip downstairs and order a Subway meal that included a cookie plus extra money left over and save myself the trouble of making dinner. I still had the cake to share with Gaze, too.
I needed to get the street grime off of me, so I took a shower with my favorite strawberry conditioner. After I was dressed, I twirled my wet hair up into a bun and fastened it with a ponytail holder. If I kept it wet, it would feel cool this evening. Sometimes summer days felt like they lasted forever. The clock said it was five p.m., so I had plenty of time with daylight in the day.
I went to my room and focused on Gaze’s bedroom window. He popped up from underneath the sill.
I didn’t know what to say to him. I knew his issue now. His dad was drunk during a weekday.
“Are you guys having dinner soon?”
“Mom had to go back to work.”
The surprise showed on Gaze’s face as his eyebrows shot up. “She was barely home.”
I looked down into the alley. I think he was figuring out my issue.
“My dad’s passed out, so I don’t know what I’ll have.”
I dug out my ten dollar bill and held it up. “I have extra. You want to get dinner together?”
He flipped his hair out of his eyes and lit up. “That would be great. Thanks.”
We met downstairs and then walked three blocks to Pete’s Pizza, the best pizza place in the neighborhood. For well under ten bucks we each got two slices of pizza and shared one soda. After picking out a booth toward the front, we sat with our legs sticking to the orange plastic of the seats. We sat on the same side so we could look out the window. There was only one way to eat pizza from Pete’s. It was blisteringly hot and smelled delicious, so we had to start slow and wrestle with the hot cheese. It stretched like chewing gum. People-watching in the city was a full-time sport. I loved it because I’d create backstories in my imagination for the interesting looking people.
Gaze pointed out a man covered head to toe in tattoos that turned him into a skeleton.
“I think I want to get a bunch of those. How old do you think you have to be to get one?” He wiped the pizza grease off his chin.
“I think it depends if you’re in prison or not. I think they give them out free in the joint. But out here, maybe fifteen? I don’t want one at all. I hate needles.”
“I can handle needles. I don’t know how you get them in prison. I mean, I think you need a tattoo chair and stuff. I watched the whole show on it.” Gaze crumpled a napkin in his hand and then spread it out, smoothing it with his palms.
“Anybody with a needle and ink can get a tattoo.” I’d seen it happen with my own eyes.
“That sounds like a bad idea.” Still, from the way he looked in the distance, I figured he was considering it.
Gaze stood up. “I have to go check on my dad. Thanks for dinner, though.”
I didn’t make Gaze tell me what he was checking for. Alive, I was guessing. Making sure his dad wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t. Adults that were acting like his dad were ones I avoided. Both of our legs made ripping noises as we got up. It sounded like we’d farted at the same time. We ran from the pizza joint laughing.
When our laughter wound down, Gaze started walking back.
“We gotta get home before dark. It’s not great here for kids at night.”
“See ya in the window then,” Gaze offered as he peeled off to go to his building. He waited on the steps to make sure I got in the front door.
I hated this part. The night. It would descend and I’d be home alone. I couldn’t admit to my mom that it scared me, because she was always going on about how great it was that I was all grown up.
I flipped the lights on as soon as I got in the door and locked it behind me. The routine I had was to check everything in the house. I grabbed my bat. Every closet and the shower got a check. And under the beds. I turned on all the lights, too. I wouldn’t leave them all on at night, but just while I did the checking.
But tonight, after my routine, I went into my room to see a ball flying up and down in front of Gaze’s window.
I grabbed my bubble gun and loaded some fresh bubble juice and shot it in his direction. It took a while for me to get the bubbles to go in the right way, but they did. Gaze popped his head in the window, smile already in place.
Our windows were close enough that we could talk normally. The stagnant air carried our voices well.
“How’s your dad?”
Gaze shrugged and didn’t answer, so I dropped the topic. “You good at throwing that ball?”
It looked like a Nerf basketball. I held up my hands.
His eyes sparkled before he lobbed it over to me. It was thrilling to see it cruise right over the alley. I snatched it out of the air and squeezed the soft foam.
I put my elbows on my windowsill and took a deep breath. Gaze seemed like he believed my toss would make it, so I took the chance. He had to lean forward a little to catch it, but he did.
That night we tossed the ball back-and-forth for over an hour. Not alone. I was not alone. I even pitched a slice of cake to him. Some crumbs fell below, but he was able to eat a nice sized slice. Then we started in with the ball again.
When our arms were tired, we both stared at each other across the window.
“Hey, I’m here. All night. You say my name and I’ll wake up.”
I nodded. He got me. He knew it wasn’t easy to be here by myself.
When I finally went to bed, I left my window open. I’d do this normally anyway because it was high up and it gave me some air. But tonight the open window was a reminder that I had a person out there. Close.
Chapter 6
Gaze
I CHECKED ON Dad a few more times. He was full of apologies. And whiskey. It was brutal when he slipped like this. As long as I’d been alive there had been ups and downs. But I always believed in the hope when he wasn’t drinking. The bar across the street had been an omen. I knew it would be a problem, I just thought he would hold out for far longer.
The apologies were chock-full of promises. That the drink was just the one time. But it was more than one drink. I knew it was. Dad never had just one drink. So I made sure he was lying on his side. Because waking up to him gagging on his own vomit was a terrifying way to open your eyes.
When he wasn’t drinking, he was strict with me. But when he was drinking, I was an afterthought. Sometimes all I was to him was a way to get beer out of the fridge.