Syesha says she's not allowed to use the phone. I say I'll call for her. Dara slaps my hand from the phone like I was trying to sneak a cookie. I can tell where this is going, don't like it one bit. I got better things to do than climb trees. I start to say that, but Dara holds her finger up, then covers Syesha's ears. She leans over, tells Syesha to hum to herself.
Dara's smiling. Speaking real soft, calling me Tracy Lowell, using her big angry words. Tells me I was just reading the paper, it'll be here when I get back. I tell her I hate cats, and she's ready to punch me. Tells me I serve the community, that Syesha's part of the community, and I owe her a duty. I tell her I'm gonna break my back. She tells me if that happens, Billy's gonna sew me back up for free.
Dara takes her hands off Syesha's ears. I ask her if she's got any money on her. She looks down at the ground while she's reaching through her pockets. Pulls out a quarter and a few pennies. I tell her that's my going rate. Dara smacks me, but it's business. Word gets out I took a case for free, every sad sack looking for a handout's gonna come knocking. Besides, it's only cruel if it's more money than she has.
We're walking down the street, Syesha reaching up to hold Dara's hand, me walking on her other side. I ask her where her dad is, she says she doesn't have one. No older brothers either. I ask where she heard about me, and she says she overheard someone on the street. At least word was getting around.
I can tell we're going towards Rickets. Wish I'd had some liquid courage before coming out here. We stand in front of the tree, a stout oak, orange and brown leaves piled below it, roots cracking through the concrete. It's branches are all mangled, reaching towards the sky like an explosion.
Syesha points up with her free hand, says there's Tabitha. Some orange mutt of a cat, looked like it's fur was clumping, maybe missing some pieces of ear. I can hear it meowing ten feet up. I wonder how it got so high up, couldn't get down. Cats.
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