A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [46]
There was a pause. “Jada! I know this is you.”
“No, I told you, this is Jada’s mom, Marvella,” she said indignantly.
“Well, I guess I have no choice, then, but to send the attendance officer out.”
“Fine,” Jada said huffily, panicking the minute she hung up. She would tell him how her mother had the flu and was too sick to talk to anyone. Jada put on pajamas and spent the rest of the day waiting in front of the TV, but no one ever came. At three-thirty the moaning started up again. Jada went in and sat on the edge of the bed. Shivering, her mother lay curled in a tight ball. Had Ronnie called? She needed to get high. She’d die if she went much longer, she groaned. Her teeth were chattering. She smelled of sweat and stale urine.
“It’ll be all right,” Jada said softly. “Pretty soon it’ll be over and you’ll feel so good. Just like before, I know you will.”
“Fuck off. Just fuck off, will you?” She raised her head, then withered with the effort. “Get Ronnie. You gotta get him!” she begged.
“Okay, Ma, I know, I know. Just lay back and you’ll feel better. I’m taking good care of you, Ma. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her mother sobbed, and she started to touch her arm, then drew back. Sometimes she’d be so flipped out, she’d think Jada was trying to hurt her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay, Ma. Don’t cry.” She went into the bathroom and wet the end of a towel. “Here, Ma.” She barely touched it to her mother’s hand. “Maybe this’ll make you feel better.”
“Give me the phone,” her mother cried, flinging away the towel. “I said give me the phone.”
“Just try, Ma. One more day, that’s all. You can do it. I know you can. Please! Will you just try?”
“Give me the goddamn phone! Give it to me, you ugly little bitch, you, or I’ll leave! Is that what you want? You want me to leave? Cuz this time I’m not coming back. You hear me? You hear me?” she was still screaming when Jada ran in with the phone.
Hunched on one elbow, she tried to sit up. Her shaking hands kept hitting the wrong numbers. She gave Jada the phone and told her to do it. Her mother left a teary message, telling Ronnie how sorry she was and how she was so sick, she was afraid she was dying. “Please,” she begged. “Please bring me something. A five-dollar rock. Pieces. Anything. Please, I’ll do anything, I promise. Please, please, please.”
Jada ran down the hill through the cold drizzle, hating everyone in every house and store she passed for having a better life than hers, hating her mother, hating Ronnie, but most of all hating herself for doing this, for trying to find him when this was all his fault. After the last rehab, her mother had stayed clean almost four months, her longest yet. She had a job with a big cleaning service, and she started going out with JumJum again, which really got to Ronnie. Nobody dared say it to his face now, but everyone thought Ronnie had set JumJum up just to get Marvella back. Not that Ronnie was the least bit nice to her once JumJum went away. That’s the way Ronnie was. He had to be in charge, had to be the boss all the time of everyone.
Jada figured JumJum was probably her father. At least he was the most likely one. Her mother had been with him off and on since dropping out of high school her freshman year. Sometimes when Ronnie wasn’t being such a vicious, mean asshole, she imagined how it might be him. According to her mother, it could have been any one of four different guys. Or maybe it was all four, she’d laugh, teasing Jada about her strange mix of features.
The thin rain pressed her close by the storefronts. Her pace quickened when she saw two guys smoking outside the pool hall. One was that fat creep Polie Valens. He was Ronnie’s cousin from the Bronx, so that made him the man. He said he didn’t know where Ronnie was, but then nobody ever knew where anyone was. Especially Ronnie Feaster. Polie gestured, and the other guy went inside.
“Whachoo want him for?” Polie asked.
“Nothing. I just gotta give him something.”
“Give itta me, then,” he said, bringing his wide face closer