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Greenefield City builds new, unaffordable HOA-approved houses that all look the same for the ever-shrinking upper-middle class. The city council abandoned the Oldewood area to pothole streets, slumping houses, and SWAT-searched apartments. It was 20 years ago when the city council renovated the Red Leaf apartments to appease the Oldewood residents. Apartment 3483 is a two-room, two-bathroom space that is barely comfortable for a family of 5.
The youngest child, Jessica, turned 13 early summer and is trusted to walk around Oldewood by herself. She shoves her shoulder into the unlocked front door to force it open. The door groans and jolts. She stumbles in, her pink Walmart backpack smacking the door frame. “Damn! When is Dad gonna fix these hinges?”
“Jessie? Jessie! You better not be cussing in my house!”
“I’m not, Momma! The door was being difficult!”
“Uh-huh, how was your half-day?”
“Alright! But Mr. Sanders was being a butt.”
“Well, do your homework. I’m taking a nap before I head to my shift at Charlatans. Mr. Lyer is promising a raise.”
Mr. Lyer has been promising part-time workers a raise for two years, and will likely flake again. Jessica drags the hand-me-down backpack behind her and slumps into the couch. The cracked pleather pokes through her pullover hoodie. Her shared room is down the hall, but Kimmy smoked weed in there this morning. Nat cracked open the window, but a good breeze won’t come by till sunset. The stench of skunk weed clings to bedding like poor decisions, like the boys Kimmy fucks.
Of her big sisters, Jessica likes Nat the best. She read library-borrowed Frog and Toad stories when Jessica was in elementary. Kimmy watched cartoons and called her stupid or a baby for wanting to be read to. Daddy and Momma came back home around 8, and Jessica’s bedtime was 8:30. The sisters’ parents were too tired to read bedtime stories, but they had the energy to say good night and say “I love you.”
Jessica stops lazing on the couch and gets to her homework on the street-poached table. Nana and Momma picked it up after their mother-daughter date last month. They were cutting through Goodwood to spare the Camry’s tires. A couple was dumping all their stuff and selling everything at scam prices. The table didn’t sell, and was left as junk on the curb. Two bottles of wood cleaner later, the refurbished table sits between the kitchen and the living room.
Jessica finishes “Hills Like White Elephants” and the accompanying worksheet when her Momma comes down. There’s olive oil infused into her polo shirt and slacks.
Jessica’s mom picks up two Daphne du Maurier books, Rebecca and Jamaica Inn. “Can you return these to your Nana?”
She takes the broken spine novels. “Sure. Will Daddy pick me up then?”
“Yeah, he’s getting off early today, and I don’t want you walking back when it’s dark. You know what, let me call him now.” Momma tugs the front door open, work bag over her shoulder. “Love you.”
“Love you.”
The door huffs shut. Jessica puts her backpack in her room and gets her crossbody bag from the closet. She puts the novels, her wallet, cell phone, and charger inside it— her keys go in her pants’ pocket. Nana’s house is a 30-minute walk from Red Leaf apartments. She leaves home and cuts through the grass to reach the banged-up side gate. Outside the apartment complex, Jessica texts Nat and Kimmy to let them know she’s heading over to Nana’s. Kimmy might come to avoid her boyfriend, DJ, from trying to fuck her without a rubber. But Nat’s unlikely to visit Nana since Law & Order is always blasting and Nat has midterms coming up. If none of Jessica’s other cousins are visiting, she’ll be stuck with Kimmy. Maybe Tony and Victoria will be there, and they could play Smash Bros., then Jessica wouldn’t be alone with Kimmy.
Jessica waits at the Wolfe Street and Woodsman Avenue intersection for the walk signal. She pulls out her cell and goes to the SCP Foundation website to read the top-rated creepy story. The robotic voice drones out. Head down, she crosses the street to take Woodsman all the way to Nana’s.
“HEY, HEY, HEY! YOU CAN’T WALK THIS WAY!”
Jessica’s head flicks up, startled by a construction worker yelling at her. The sidewalk and street have workers buzzing about. Putting up street cones, taping off the area, and flagging down trucks.
“How long ya’ll going to be at it?”
“We should be done by the end of the week. But, if you want to get to the east side of Oldewood, you’ll have to take Wolfe Street to get around.”
Jessica kisses her teeth, “Thank you,” and turns around.
The turnaround will add another 25 minutes to Jessica’s trip. At this point, she might as well go home. She’s at the intersection when her Galaxy S10 chimes.
“…Nana?”
“Please, walk now. Please walk now. Please walk now.” 30 seconds, 29, 28, 27…
Nana: Where are you? Abby said you’re coming.
17, 16, 15…Jessica jogs across to Wolfe Street—her keys jingle with her steps. There are 5 seconds left when she reaches the other sidewalk. She texts Nana about the construction happening and reassures her that she’ll be there soon. She gets a smiley face and heart emojis back.
Ivy crawls over white walls, shielding cookie-cutter homes from the worst of Greenefield. Four freshly painted lanes separate the HOA-approved houses from Oldewood. American flags thrash with a gust of wind. The tails of Jessica’s box braids smack her face. Annoyed, she tugs her red hood up. The wind beats against her side. A skateboarder speeds behind her. Jessica jerks to the side to get out of the way. The board shrieks to a halt.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The high school boy smiles.
Jessica’s brow furrows. “You can go past. I wasn’t trying to get in your way.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Jessica slides against the face of the wall and tries to slip away. He keeps pace with her.
“Do you live around here? I haven’t seen you around.”
“No, I’m just passing through. Trying to get somewhere.”
“Cool. Where?”
“Do you need to know?”
“Well, I might know a shortcut. I could help you get there faster.”
“Look, I’m just trying to visit my Nana, and I don’t need help with that. Bye.” He rolls in Jessica’s way, and she jerks to a halt.
“At least tell me your name.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know it. Here, I’ll go first. I’m Wolfgang.”
“I’m Jessica.” She squeezes her phone; Wolfgang yaps at her.
Jessica tries to slip past him after a flippant hum, but the edge of his skateboard bites at her ankles. Wolfgang keeps pace with Jessica and attempts to get more than an un-huh from the girl. But she keeps the disinterested front and seeks a way around his board. He craves more than her dismissal. He wants her dark brown eyes to peek around her red hood. To watch her smile and show off her braces, and to talk about her day. More than anything, he wants to whisk her home and gobble her up. A cute girl like her shouldn’t have to live in Oldewood’s raggedy homes. Greenefield could use an “accidental” late summer fire and reduce Oldewood to an ashened heap, to allow fresh white homes to take over.
Jessica checks on Wolfgang. His head’s off in whatever concrete woods he likes to prowl in. Stealing the opportunity to ditch him, she swivels around Wolfgang, jayrunning to Brittle Road, and bolts to Nana’s. He shouts shit, and tries to skate across the street, but a car zooms by, the wind dings his board, and the driver honks at him. He stumbles back, trips off his skateboard, bruises his achillies tendon on the sidewalk curve, and hits his ass on the cracked pavement. Jessica sprints on, red hoodie a dot.
Jessica stumbles to a stop, bends over, and pants to catch her breath. She peers over her shoulder, but doesn’t find Wolfgang. That boy needs to get a hint. Jessica scans the neighborhood and spots Nana’s pink one-story house. Bright yellow roses sway in the wind. Jessica smiles at the trimmed lawn and moist dirt. Nana’s roses are so beautiful that the pious Mrs. Evans's thin lips vanish before every Easter Sunday when Pastor Charles requests Nana’s flowers to be displayed during church service. Jessica strolls up to the side door, reaches for her key, and feels her empty pocket. SHIT! She must have lost them when she escaped from Wolfgang. She’ll have to retrace her steps. Jessica groans and leaves the pink house behind. She hopes she won’t run into Wolfgang on her way back.
Jessica follows her previous steps and searches for her keys. She doesn’t see them, but someone is riding a skateboard. There’s no one else on Brittle Road. Whoever the skateboarder is must be somewhere else. Jessica hesitates and hunts for the stranger again. She must have heard wrong. She heads back to Nana’s without finding her keys.
At Nana’s house again, Jessica knocks and calls out to be let in, but no one answers. She checks her phone and sees a missed text. Nat asks if she made it to Nana’s. Jessica shoots a text back and leaves out her lost keys. She returns her phone to the crossbody bag. Jessica pounds on the door despite the threat of a belt, but doesn’t hear shouting. She tries the doorknob because Victoria sometimes leaves it unlocked when she drops by. The door opens smoothly, and Jessica heads in.
“Nana? You home?” Jessica toes off her black Puma sneakers.
The white screen door creaks closed, and Jessica follows the hosts' voices from The Great British Bake Off—episode 5 of season 10. Nana’s yellow slippers rest in front of the couch. There’s something obscure by the popped leg rest. It’s probably Tony’s rollerblades. He always leaves them there. Nana’s rose-painted mug is half empty, and the coffee is cold. Where did her Nana go?
“Nana?”
A croaky voice calls from down the hallway. “Jessica? Jessica? Is that you?”
Was that Nana? She sounds weird. Jessica goes to the voice. “Are you feeling sick?”
“My throat’s just bothering me.”
“I’m coming i—”
“No! If I got something, you’ll get sick!”
“Oh, okay…” Jessica backs away from the door and returns to the living room.
On the TV, the host, Noel, informs bakers, Helena and Michelle, that they’ve been eliminated. The seven remaining contestants hug Michelle and Helena and say their goodbyes. Jessica grabs the remote and logs out of Netflix. A skateboard pokes out from beside the leg rest. “Wasn’t that supposed to be Tony’s rollerblades?” She crouches to examine the board.
“It’s rude to touch someone’s things.”
Jessica flinches and whips around. “Wolfgang?”
“Hi, Jessica.”
Victoria’s softball bat thwacks Jessica on the head. She slumps between the couch and the TV.
***
“Good evening, this is Ursula Jones of Greenefield Local News reporting to you on Wednesday, 8:45 PM, at Branch and Brittle in Oldewood, where a fire broke out at Mrs. Ethel Holmes's house. The 72-year-old woman was found suffocated in her locked bathroom. Bleeding from her head suggests her assailant concussed her first. The criminal likely tried to burn any evidence. Mrs. Holmes’s granddaughter, Jessica Holmes, is also missing. The 13-year-old girl was last seen by her mother around noon. Jessica’s belongings, including her phone, are in the house; however, her keys are missing. An Amber Alert has been issued. Please contact the police if you see her. Her parents and two older sisters desperately want to reunite with Jessica. Stay safe. Back to you, Harry.”
José cuts the feed, and Ursula scurries from the yellow tape. The police, firefighters, and EMTs buzz around Mrs. Ethel’s pink house. The other residents living on Branch take videos and photos. Yellow roses sway in the warm evening breeze.