The White Horse Read Free

“Does it pay?”
    Well, no, but—
    Screw it. She’d walk away, the praise a burning nugget in her heart.
    The tourists weren’t biting. The weather was too good. People felt sorrier for them when it rained.
    â€œFucking tightwads.” Stevie Joe’s treat had worn off, and Sonny’s hands were shaking. They walked down to Macy’s. He waited outside. She could steal some stuff, then try to return it. That worked sometimes, but probably not today; today she looked too dirty.
    She rode the escalator up to the ladies’ lounge. Washed her hands for a while. The soap smelled good. Women came and went, some with babies in strollers, some with big white bags full of purchases. Raina rummaged in her pockets like she was hunting for something. Her timing had to be perfect.
    The lounge door opened. An old lady came in, followed by a couple of younger women. The old lady was wrinkled but she was wearing a suit, and big rings sparkled on her fingers.
    She took the last stall at the end of the row. The young women took stalls beside each other. Laughing and talking, they finished their business, then washed their hands and put on lipstick.
    At the end of the row the old lady sat frozen, her handbag between her feet.
    The young women left the lounge, the door closing behind them. The room was silent. Raina sat real still. She could feel the old lady waiting, listening, until she thought she was alone and no one would hear her go.
    The next thing she knows, a girl’s head’s under the door. They stared at each other, not saying a word. Raina snatched the purse and was back on the street while the old lady was still struggling with her girdle.
    At the park she and Sonny sat on a bench and dumped everything out of the purse: Kleenex, lipstick, dental floss, credit cards—they’d have to use those quick—keys, a gold pen, family pictures, a comb, and seventy-five bucks and change.
    They tossed the junk in a trash can, then hit some stores and charged everything they could carry: clothes, watches, sleeping bags, toothpaste, shampoo, cigarettes, expensive candy, then treated themselves to Chinese food for lunch.
    They traded cash and a credit card for Sonny’s meds, some crank for her, and a bottle of booze at a place where the guy never asked any questions, never even looked into their faces.
    At a hotel where they stayed when they had the dough they tried to make love, then Sonny fell asleep, his arms flung back against the sheets like someone was holding a gun on him.
    Raina stood in the shower for a real long time, shampooing her hair until it squeaked.
    Daylight faded from the windows. Sonny snored beside her. Raina drained the vodka bottle and watched TV, scribbling in her notebook until she fell asleep, still clutching the old lady’s gold pen.
    And woke up the next morning thinking: We forgot to get Sonny any shoes.

Chapter Four
    I don’t know why my mother hates me. Maybe she hated my father more than the others. I didn’t like him either. Luckily, he wasn’t around for long. Men came and went, most of them mean, leaving behind: Paymond, Sheila, Lynette, Lorraine, Willie, Bobby and Brandy. Seven children and she never wanted one .
    Especially me .
    Not that she babied the others. Once, she hit Raymond twenty times. I counted. And she’d get right in Sheila’s face and scream so hard, her veins stuck out like Frankenstein’s. You think you got it bad? You shoulda seen my childhood! As if somehow it was Sheila’s fault. The way my mother sees it, she’s been robbed, ever since she was a tiny girl. What she didn’t get then, she’s going to get now .
    My mother’s the only child in her world .
    I called Sheila a few weeks ago. She’d left messages around. It had been, oh God, a year since we’d talked. Even though we all live in the same city, we’re not what you’d call a close family .
    She skipped the how-you-been