Armadillos Read online

  The moon was fat and made a good light to walk by. I willed the rain to come, and when it did I tipped my head back and caught a drink. Lucky I didn’t catch a chill as well. As I told myself over and over, there’s always a silver lining.

  Knew I’d have to rustle up supplies from somewhere once the sun came up, though. My belly growled. I thought about the pumpkin pie Jojo had made that afternoon. I thought about my slice, all orange and good and creamy, sitting uneaten on a plate in the refrigerator. How hard would it have been to pack some food? If I’d really thought about it, I could have hidden out in Cy’s car when he was headed on one of his trips south. Could have jumped out at any point. Could have checked a map and picked a destination. All kinds of things I could have done to make my life a little easier, and the further I got, the wilder my inventions came. Could have got Cy to teach me to drive and then stole his car. Could have caught a horse from the livery and rode off on it. Could have taken Jojo with me. But how do you get someone to run away with you if they won’t even see there’s a problem? If there’s no problem, they don’t need help. Don’t need to face up to anything. It got so I despised the tears she cried into our food. I could taste her misery in every bite. And still she wouldn’t leave.

  With every step, I put more and more distance between me and them. If she’d known I was leaving, would she have let me go? She’d have made me pack a bag, at least. She’d have put in my favorite shirt, the blue plaid one that used to be hers, and maybe some thick socks for hiking. I sure would have found them useful around about now. She would have made me a picnic, and slipped in something delicious like her peanut butter brownies, but told me not to eat them until I’d finished all of my sandwich. And I’d have nodded, even though we both knew those brownies would be gone in under a minute. She’d have walked me down the track to the gate so she could wave me off. As I walked away, I would have called over my shoulder – Come with me, Jojo – but there would have been no reply. And if I stopped to look back, she’d be gone.

  I should have known she’d never be gone.

  I’d been walking for hours. My feet were on fire, my legs heavy as lead. Behind me was all road and sky; in front of me was the same. Seemed like I’d been walking on the same damn spot all night. Tiredness pressed down hard, and my spirit was fair broken. I looked down at my feet, willing them on, and realized I was about to step on a bashed-up car bumper. I kicked it to the side and carried on, walking through a spattering of broken glass and shredded car tires. Just ahead was the dark shape of a car parked half on, half off the road.

  It was a wreck. Every window lay shattered on the ground, or spread out over the back seat. The sides were crumpled up like an old accordion. A keychain of pink crystals dangled from the ignition. Pretty. I reached in and turned it, but it gave out nothing. Not that I could drive it even if it did.

  I tried the driver’s door once, twice, then realized all I had to do was lift the button on the inside. ‘Dumb Aggie,’ I said to no one, but it felt good to break the silence. Through the darkness, I almost heard Jojo: Tired Aggie, she’d say. That’s about right, I thought to myself, as I yawned almost big enough to turn me inside out.

  I sat inside and the seat was comfortable. I opened the glove compartment and found an old map. I gave thanks and took it. Whoever heard of traveling without a map? Ridiculous.

  As I shut the glove, I caught sight of some shit in the footwell, all dark and dried like it had been there for weeks. Gross. Empty beer cans and broken glass all over. I tried to shake something out of the cans but they were dry. When I went round to check the trunk, I found an old army rucksack. Plenty of pockets, there had to be something in there. I checked it over too many times to count, each time turning out nothing, not even a crumb.

  ‘Aint gonna get downhearted so soon, are you, Aggie?’ I said out loud. ‘Hell, no,’ I replied. I don’t know who I thought I was talking to. I glanced at the map held tight in my hand, and thought of the possibilities it might bring.

  I spread it out on the hood of the car, but it was too hard to read in the dark. When I tried to close it back up again, it refused to go. It kept folding and unfolding itself beneath my fingers. Every time I thought I had it beat, another section would pop out. I yawned again, and through watery eyes the yellowed piece of paper folded and unfolded over and over again, until the sun peeked up over the horizon.

  Blinding brightness on my left. Road stretching out before and behind; taunting, laughing beneath my feet. The snakes had escaped to the coolness of the thick grass, their long bodies twisting and rolling their way to a gentler darkness. From far behind me, a noise. Its strangeness made me stop. Uneasy, I turned round.

  A dot in the distance, getting closer. Gradually, it took on the size and shape of a car. It didn’t move like a car, though. Flat tires on opposite sides front and back gave it the up and down motion of a merry-go-round pony. It scraped the ground with a painful screech until it pulled alongside me.

  ‘Found you,’ said the driver.

  I recognized the voice but I could hardly trust my eyes.

  ‘Jojo?’

  I’d never seen her like this before. Like she’d just come off some movie set. Half her face was hidden by a pair of oversized sunglasses, and a white scarf turbaned her hair. Only the mole on the corner of her mouth told me it was her. Funny I’d never noticed that it was shaped like a car.

  ‘I been looking for my cat,’ she said. Her lips were real pretty. All painted orange. Orange like pumpkin pie. I was wrong – the mole wasn’t shaped like a car – it was shaped like a cat.

  ‘Which cat?’ I asked. We had near enough a dozen on the farm. They were good for catching snakes and rodents, but they weren’t allowed in the house. No good getting attached, Jojo had said.

  The door popped open. Sun streamed in through the window like a laser. It bounced off the pink key chain. Bullets of light flew around the inside of the car.

  ‘Jump in.’

  Without my say so, my arms and legs began to obey. I brought them into line quick smart and stepped back.

  ‘What way you going?’ I asked.

  ‘Get in. You’ll find out.’ She patted the empty passenger seat.

  ‘I aint going back home, Jojo.’

  The little cat-mole beside her mouth had whiskers which turned down like sad smiles. ‘I aint saying we’re going home,’ she said.

  I wished I could see her eyes. I wanted to climb in with her, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d regret it.

  ‘Don’t you care about me, Aggie?’

  ‘I do, Jojo. More than anything.’

  ‘Aint you sad one of our little kitties went walkabout?’

  Her nails tapped a rhythm off the side of the steering wheel as she scanned the horizon. An empty cat box appeared on the back seat, a white box with a metal grill on one side. Hadn’t seen one there before.

  ‘Jail for pussycats,’ she grinned.

  Something weird about that grin.

  ‘I need you to get in,’ she said.

  The turbaned hair, the pumpkin mouth, the dark glasses. She tilted those huge shades down, looked me straight in the eye and smiled. ‘Trust me, Aggie.’

  I found myself climbing in and we took off, Jojo grinning so wide the corner of her mouth almost touched her ear. The sound of bare wheels on concrete.

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’ I yelled at her.

  The car braked with such force, I flew forward and hit the dash.

  ‘There she is, my little cat!’

  Pulling myself back up, all I could see was grass and rocks spread out far and forever.

  ‘Look, it’s Aggie!’ she yelled again, but her lips didn’t move in time with the words. Everything was wrong, disjointed somehow. Sunglasses like bug eyes and huge, yellow teeth sticking out of a painted mouth turned round to face me. A tiny version of me was trapped in the reflection of her big, black glasses.

  ‘Ready to come home now, little Aggie?’ It was her voice, but Pop’s
face. His hand, or hers, tightened around my wrist and pulled. ‘Sub Aggie. It’s time to come home.’ And her voice again, small and far away, saying, ‘Now where could that Aggie be?’

  I ripped myself free and woke up lying on the back seat, breathing hard. There was a crick in my neck and a cramp in my foot. I sat up to rub the cramp out and the morning glare stung my eyes and made them water. No noise. No Jojo. No cat called Aggie. Broken glass all over the back seat just like before. I knew because I was lying on it. Scratches tore my leg. The rucksack was a pillow beneath my head.

  The earth rattled as a truck thundered past, making the little car jump. The brakes screamed like witches on fire as the contraption pulled over. The driver jumped out and took a piss on the roadside. If he noticed me or the car he didn’t show it. He pissed for a good long time.

  ‘Watch out for snakes,’ I whispered, and laid low till he moved on.

  2

  I started off that second day running. Was good at it too. I’d won school competitions regular on account of my extra height. I was tall for my age. I took long strides, trying to put distance between me and Jojo, as though it were possible to outrun my imagination. My muscles burned but I pushed through it, telling myself the faster I went the sooner I’d get some food in my empty belly. It was building to be another hot day and I still didn’t even have water. My tongue and gums stuck together like velcro. But fortune was shining that day, because before I got too far I came to a four-way stop with a service station just beyond it, a sight so glorious it made me fall to my knees.

  ‘Thank you, Lord,’ I praised. I scrambled back up again and staggered closer.

  I knew it was early on account of the number of eighteen-wheelers still parked up in the lot. Pretty soon the sleeping drivers would be waking up and coming out of their cabs to grab themselves coffee and a bite. All I had to do was wait.

  I’d always tried to be an honest child, and not just because of my awkward habit of blushing at the drop of a hat. I obeyed my elders, and never even spoke out of turn unless some kid decided I was fair game. Funny how a single night can change a person. I didn’t question what I had to do. It was simple. I needed food, no matter what it was or how I got it, and I had to get it in me before this hunger soared upwards and roared out my throat.

  There was no ditch to hide in so I had to brazen it out on the open road and pray no one came by. I scuttled up fast as I could and crouched behind a wire trash can. Took me less than a minute to feel like a fool. I was in plain view of any traffic that might come along so I moved round behind the station itself.

  It was a scratchy little lot round the back. Nothing there but old tires and empty gas bottles. I couldn’t see the trucks so good and I had to keep peeping around the corner every few minutes or so. There was a shed with a padlock hanging off the bolt. I gave it a rattle and discovered it was for decoration only. That’s when I got my first clue that ‘sub’ though I was, I probably wouldn’t have too much trouble putting one over the normal people of this planet. Not if they all went around leaving things unlocked anyhow. Still, only thing I found in there worth anything was a hammer. I’d been around hammers all my life but never till now had I viewed one as a weapon. Never till now had it occurred to me I might have need for a weapon, crazy as that may sound. But this was a good hammer, I could tell. Heavy with soft rubber around the handle. The hitting end was big and flat, the claw sharp enough to scratch my skin when I rubbed my thumb along its edge. My rucksack was gathering contents and it felt good, solid, like I had something to hold on to. Everyone needs something to hold onto.

  ‘Little girly.’

  I near enough jumped out my skin. I whizzed round to see a grizzly sort of fella, as big a man as any I’d seen, with a face full of hair so thick you could have kept rodents in there. When he spoke, I hoped it was his lips making his beard move.

  ‘What time’s your daddy set on opening?’

  ‘Uh…’

  ‘Run along and tell him he’s got business if he wants it. I’m fixing to make a good start today. Aint hanging around.’

  He stood aside to let me pass and there, right in front of the gas station, was a little house complete with a picket fence. I hadn’t noticed it on account of it being tucked right behind a giant billboard as you approached it from the road. Even though I knew this, I couldn’t shake the feeling it had just arrived through some kind of black magic. And now Grizzly was sending me right over to it.

  ‘Uh. Sure, mister.’

  My brain did overtime in that short walk from the station to the house and by the time I got there I still had no plan. I cast a glance over my shoulder to see Grizzly stood by his truck, watching and waiting.

  I pushed open the squeaky little gate to the front yard and approached the door. It was painted blue and all peeling off. Drapes pulled across dusty windows. All in all, it didn’t look too friendly. I was wondering if I could disappear round the back of the house, and let them all figure it out for themselves, when the door ripped open. An old guy – skinny as a rail and with more hair on his warts than on his head – greeted me.

  ‘What you want?’ He scowled and spat in the dust.

  Before I could reply, he looked over and saw Grizzly waiting. Grizzly raised his arm, you wouldn’t call it a wave, and walked behind his truck. The old guy turned his beady stare onto me.

  ‘We aint open yet,’ he snapped, though he slammed the door behind him and set off across the road.

  I caught sight of a worn old chicken coop in the corner of the yard. I took a look around. The ground was thick enough with birdshit but there was no sign of live chickens. With a quick glance to make sure the old guy wasn’t watching, I stooped and put my hand inside the box. My fingers scrabbled among the hay and grass until, right at the back, I felt them. Two smooth, beautiful, sweet little eggs for my breakfast. With a quick apology to the invisible chickens, I withdrew my hand. Now all I had to do was figure out how the hell to eat them.

  Over on the forecourt, Grizzly was inside paying for gas. He’d left the door to his cab open. Looked awful dark in there but it was too damn bright out on the road. His was the smallest of all the trucks in the station and it was easy to climb up and over the seats and slip into the back. I lifted a bottle of water from the dash as I went. My throat was drier than the heart of a haystack.

  It was pretty gloomy in the back. A stash of boxes were tied in at the sides with some old gray rope, but there was room enough for me, my rucksack and my two eggs. At first, I didn’t know what to do with them, and then I remembered a movie where this guy just ate them raw, so that’s what I did. Cracked them on my teeth and swallowed them. Made me gag some but that was okay. Washed them down with Grizzly’s water, and scanned the cargo in hope of more food. I used the claw of the hammer to rip a box open. It was full of toasters. I took one out and shoved it in my bag, figuring I’d sell it later. I was shaping up to be a pretty fast learner.

  The truck shifted its weight and I knew Grizzly was back. I held my breath, scared he might sense me skulking in the back there. His door slammed shut and the engine growled into life. The worst thought came to me. What if he was going back the way I just came? The truck lurched forwards and I grabbed the rope to steady myself. God Jesus, please, please don’t let him turn left. When I felt the world tip to the right, I near enough cried with relief. We rumbled on down that road, further from home, my body shaking along with all those boxes, feeling I was finally getting somewhere.

  Seemed like we’d been going for days when he decided to stop. A suffocating kind of heat had built up. I was soaked with sweat and desperate for air. Deep red lines scored my hands where they’d been holding the rope. It hurt to ease out my cramped fingers.

  When I heard his door go, I climbed up and peeked through the curtain dividing the cab from the truck. I was amazed to see it was still light. I looked out the window and saw dozens of people around the parking lot. Looked like we’d stopped at another service station. It was starting to
feel like the whole wide world was made of nothing but road and gas stations. I scrambled over the ledge and was reaching back round for my bag when the driver door opened. There was just enough time for my heart to plummet before I was dragged backwards out the truck and slammed up against the side of it.

  ‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a sneaking little thief.’ He had my shirt all scrunched up under my chin. His breath was hot on my face.

  ‘Please, mister. I aint no thief. Please, let me go.’

  His eyes narrowed and he lowered his hands.

  ‘Aint you the little girl from this morning? God damn, you been riding in there the whole time?’

  ‘Yeah, mister. Please, I aint no thief. I just needed a ride. I needed a ride real bad.’

  I tried to pull open the rucksack, my fingers thick and clumsy. ‘I’m sorry, mister. I aint no thief really. I took this one toaster, that’s all. I was thinking to sell it to get me some food. I aint no thief really, I swear. Take it back, mister, take it back.’ I practically shoved it in his face. He took it from me, grabbing me meanwhile so I couldn’t get away, and tossed it on the front seat. A woman carrying a small child walked close by. When Grizzly dropped my arm like a hot potato, I realized it must look pretty bad, him so big and burly and me such a skinny girl. Once they’d passed, he scratched his beard and turned his attention back to me.

  ‘Aint you worried about your old daddy back there?’ he asked.

  ‘That aint my daddy, mister. Truth is I never saw him before. That old guy aint missing me, I swear.’

  ‘Well, someone’s missing you. What’s your age?’

  ‘Seventeen, mister.’ My first lie. ‘Aint nobody missing me.’ My second.

  I could see Grizzly was struggling with his situation. When all’s said and done, my only crime was to hitch a ride. True enough, I’d burst open one of his boxes but he hadn’t lost anything. He could just walk away now. I prayed he liked the quiet life.