Prologue

14 years ago

“Mommy, can I have the pink bubblegum? Please?”

I held up the roll, offering her a glimpse of the round BubbleTape container clasped in my small hand. BubbleTape was the best kind of gum; every first grader knew that. Mommy didn’t answer. She was humming, a small smile rounding her lips as she handed packages of food from our cart to the grocery lady.

I turned my attention back to the bubblegum, crossing my toothpick-like arms in front of my chest as I eyed the other options. The checkout line, with all the brightly packaged candy, was always my favorite part of food shopping.

“Mommy!” I said, louder this time, determined to get her attention.

“Mmmm, what sweetheart?” she murmured distractedly.

“Can I please get the pink gum tape? All the girls in my class eat it after lunch.”

“Sure, Bee. Here, hand it up to the nice lady so we can pay for it, okay?”

I stretched my hand above my head to pass the gum to the grocery lady; even on my tiptoes it was hard to see her face. She leaned forward to pluck the container from my grasp and smiled down at me. Her teeth were streaked with pink from her lipstick and her face was wrinkled like an apple, but she seemed nice.

“And how old might you be?” she asked.

“I’ll be seven in a few months,” I boasted. “I’m in the first grade.”

“Oh! How wonderful,” she beamed. “You must be so proud,” she added to Mommy.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Mommy smiled, handing the last package to the lady.

While Mommy paid, I wandered down towards our packed cart, peeking into the clear plastic shopping bags and hoping to spot the telltale fuchsia gum container.

“Come on, Brooklyn,” Mommy said, steering the cart one handed towards the parking lot. She held out the other hand for me to grab, pulling me close by her side as we walked through the automatic doors and out to our car. I slipped my hand into hers, squeezing tight. Smiling down at me, she gently swung our interlaced fingers back and forth.

The air was thick with August humidity, and my pink Hello Kitty t-shirt seemed to fuse to my skin as we walked through the parking lot. The wheels on our cart weren’t working right – they squealed loudly in protest as Mommy wrestled them back onto a straight path.

I giggled at her efforts.

Her fingers remained tight on mine until we reached the SUV. Leaving the cart by the trunk, she scooped me into her arms, tickling my sides relentlessly. I screeched and squirmed in her grasp, loving every bit of her attention.

“So you think it’s nice to laugh at Mommy when she struggles with the cart, huh?” she laughed. “Not so funny now, is it Bee?”

“I’m sorry!” I squealed breathlessly, giggling even as the tickle-torture came to an end. She carried me around to the back door and deposited me into my booster seat.

“Oof! You’re getting too heavy for me to carry you around,” she complained. “Pretty soon you won’t have to use the booster at all. You’re getting so big.” She snapped my seatbelt into place, giving it an extra tug to check that it was safe, and dropped a quick kiss on my forehead.

“I’ve got to put the food bags in the trunk real quick, but then how ‘bout we get some ice cream on the way home, Bumblebee?” Mommy asked, using her favorite nickname for me.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, my mind already busy picturing a chocolate sundae topped with a mountain of whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles.

“Okay, I’ll be right back, love.” She smiled, ruffling my dark hair one last time before closing the door. She walked back around to the cart and I could hear her humming as she loaded the groceries into the SUV. Suddenly remembering my gum, I twisted around in my seat to face the open trunk.

“Mommy, can I have my bubblegum now?” I called, easing the tight seatbelt away from my throat so I could breathe easier.

When she didn’t answer I unbuckled, turned fully around in my booster, and peered through the trunk space to where she stood. She’d stopped putting away the bags and instead stood frozen, with her hands held out in the air front of her. It seemed too still, too quiet without her cheerful humming. She looked scared – and Mommy never looked scared, not even when I told her there were monsters in my closet or under my bed.

Something wasn’t right.

I’d just opened my mouth to ask what was wrong when I spotted the man. He stood a few feet away from Mommy, the food-filled cart abandoned in the space between them.

“Give me the keys,” he sneered at Mommy, his voice muffled by the black hood covering his mouth. His eyes, the only part of his face not hidden by the mask, glared darkly.

He sounded mean, like one of the villains in my Saturday morning cartoons. I didn’t like him, and I could tell Mommy didn’t either. Clutching a black duffle bag tightly in one hand, he shifted back and forth from one foot to the other. His eyes kept darting to the liquor store behind him, the one where Mommy sometimes got the bottles of wine she drank with dinner. I wasn’t allowed to have it; she said it was a grown-up drink.

Mommy’s eyes flickered over to the backseat, and locked on my wide-eyed gaze for a short second. Her head shook slightly back and forth in the tiniest of movements, and I knew she was trying to tell me to keep still and quiet. I wanted to ask what was happening and who that angry man was, but I did as she asked.

“Are you fucking deaf? I said give me the keys! Do I look like I’m fuckin’ around lady?” The man was yelling now, striding closer to Mommy and looking angrier than ever. Her eyes broke away from mine as she straightened her shoulders and faced the man once more.

“No,” she said, her voice sad.

Why was she so sad?

“Your choice, then,” he said, raising a hand up from his side and pointing a gun at Mommy’s face. Before I could make a sound, he fired a single bullet into her forehead and watched silently as she crumpled to the cement.

“Stupid bitch,” he muttered.

I sat frozen in place, unable to look away from Mommy bleeding in the parking lot, watching with wide eyes as he pried the keys from her hand and slammed the trunk hatch closed.

Racing around the SUV, he hopped into the driver’s seat, Mommy’s seat, and quickly started the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot without a backward glance at the bloodstained pavement. I turned slowly back around in my booster, trembling with fear and disbelief, and watched as he tossed the gun on the front passenger seat, followed by a duffle bag that was overflowing with crumpled money. Tears blurred my vision and tracked slowly down my face, but I remembered Mommy shaking her head at me and somehow managed to stay quiet.

For her.

Never once did the man look behind him and notice the small girl whose world had just ended, crying in the backseat.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 616