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Thunder crackled. Rain tapped at the window. He wondered what Marco was doing. Was he eating leftover wedding cake? Did Uncle Ray and Aunt Susana go on the honeymoon? It was a big secret, but Uncle Ray had told him they were going to Spain. They fly over the ocean. Benny wanted to fly over the ocean.
He swallowed hard, trying to hold the tears in. Was Mom really dead? Why didn’t Mr. Daniel come for him? Was he really sick? Was he dying? That would explain why he hadn’t come. ’Course, Mr. Ray and Mr. Samuel were cops. They wouldn’t give up, even if Mr. Daniel was sick. If he was sick, he’d send them.
If Juice kept moving Benny, they’d never find him. They might give up. No, they’d give Juice the money he wanted and then Juice would give him back. That’s the way they did it in the movies. Ransom. They called it ransom.
What if they didn’t want to give Juice the money? Maybe they didn’t think Benny was worth it. They might figure he was long gone. He sniffed in the dark. Mr. Daniel would never do that. He knew how much Benny liked those pancakes for breakfast and pepperoni pizza on video night. They still had to see a bunch of movies together. Mr. Daniel had promised.
The door punched open, throwing light on Benny and the mattress. The cockroaches hurried away. Benny rolled into a ball and waited for the blows.
“Just me, kid.” Juice sounded like he had marbles in this mouth. “Looking for something. Used to be my room. Long time ago.”
He rooted around in a cardboard box in the corner for a few minutes, cussing under his breath. Benny could smell his stink, worse than ever. He tried not to breathe through his nose.
“Got it.” Juice pulled a black stocking cap with holes for eyes and a mouth in it. He stumbled to his feet. “You okay, kid?”
“Yes . . . yes, sir.”
Juice laughed. “You learn fast. That’s good,m’ijo.”
He leaned against a wall and slid down until he squatted next to the mattress. Benny heard the click of a lighter, saw the flame, and then the end of a cigarette glowing in the dark. Juice’s breathing got louder. “You ’fraid of the dark?”
Benny thought a minute. “No, sir,” he whispered. “Not much. More afraid of what’s in it.”
Juice laughed, a piglet snort. “Good point. Smart kid. Not like me. Must get that from your mama.” He shifted until he sat with his long skinny legs sticking out. “What about storms? You scared of thunder?”
“No.”
“How come?”
“Cause it’s a long way away. The stuff that hurts is usually close to me.”
A drag on the cigarette made a hissing sound. The smell of the smoke filled the room. The smoke burned his eyes. It stank like the homeless men who waited at the bus stop by his old apartment.
“You got that right.” Juice’s words ran together in one big slur now. “When I was a kid I was scared of thunder. My mama cured me. She stuck in this room and locked the door. Left me here a couple days. Said she had stuff to do. It stormed bad the first night. Nothing to do but get used to it.”
Benny nodded in the dark. He knew about getting used to it. Another long, low rumble of thunder rippled outside the window. “Where was your dad?”
“Don’t know. Mama never told me nothing about him.” Juice sniffed like he had a runny nose. “She said no point in crying over spilt milk or something like that.”
Benny licked cracked, swollen lips. “Mr. Juice, can I ask you another question?”
“Don’t know why not.”
“If you’re my dad, how come you never came around until now? Where were you?”
“You calling me a liar?”
“No.” Benny squeezed down in the corner, trying to make himself small. He should have shut up, just shut up.
“Your mama and me got into it.” Juice said it like it was no big deal, the anger gone. “Lots of broken dishes, broken furniture. She tore up my poster of Selena. Then she stabbed me in the leg. She was vicious, your mama, in those days. I can’t abide by no woman shanking me. So I left.”
Benny had seen fights like that. Sometimes he had to clean up the mess. “So why’d you come back?”
“Your mama was a terrible girlfriend, but she was a pretty good businesswoman. We did some business. That’s all.”
“You didn’t come to see me?” The words slipped out before Benny could stop them. He knew better. No guy ever came to see him. Mostly, he was in the way when his mom’s boyfriends came around. At least, that’s what she said.
“N’ombre.”Juice got to his feet, dropped the cigarette on the floor next to the mattress and squished it with the heel of his tennis shoe. He turned and opened the door. Benny caught a glimpse of the gun, a glint of metal in the hallway light. It was stuck in Juice’s waistband. “It’ll be time to go in a while.”
