He couldn’t claim it was social anymore. Pixie pulled on my arm and toward her. I was in my head and forgot to watch where I was going. The sidewalk’s metal cellar doors were flung open by Brisco’s Plumbing.
“Dude. Things happen in threes. You better chew your pizza really good, you might choke or something. Today is your damn day.”
I opened the door to Pete’s Pizza and snorted. “Every day is my damn day.”
Pixie walked through and got in line to order. She had money in her sock. It was where she kept it. We’d keep track and I’d pay her back for my food. We both liked our pizza plain, with extra cold cheese sprinkled on top. We ordered two slices and a Coke, which we’d split. I grabbed two straws while Pixie juggled two paper plates dotted with orange grease. The smell of hot pizza made me want to cry a little. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
“You want to eat outside? It’s way too hot.” Pixie stepped through the door as two older men waited for us to scurry through. We thanked them for holding the door, but they ignored us.
It was a little late to go out of the neighborhood, but when Pixie suggested eating down by the river, I headed in that direction.
The sunset was stupid pretty. We ate while we walked past the playground/park and made a left to get to the waterfront. There was no beach or anything. The metal benches had a homeless person sleeping on one, but the other was free.
I’d sucked down my slice on the walk over, so Pixie sat on the bench while I picked up rocks to throw at the water. We were elevated, so it was really hard to skip a rock, but it didn’t stop me from trying.
Soon, Pixie was next to me with a handful of rocks. “That sunset looks like a melting slice of pizza.”
“It’s super orange tonight.” I ran out of sizable pebbles, so I let the rest of them drop from my hand. My fingers were dusty and gray now.
Pixie tried her luck with tossing, but instead of skipping any rocks, the pebbles just had a pretty dramatic freefall.
“Are you trying to fish? I’ve never seen anyone fail so hard at skipping rocks.” I was satisfied when she seemed to swallow a grin.
“Yes. I’m trying to fish some of the three-eyed sunnies from this polluted river. Got to figure out how to get your Christmas present somehow.” She tossed another rock that hit the water with a plop. The homeless man on the bench farted.
We both tried not to laugh. It was a hard life he was living, but farts were hilarious. We were saved by the bell when we heard the ice cream truck. The bell song that saturated the air started up something inside us, competitiveness and a need to win. Ice cream trucks were onto something.
“Creamsicles?” Pixie took off running toward the sound before I had a chance to respond.
Hell yeah, Creamsicles. I dashed to catch up. There were two other kids in line, but when I got up to the ice cream lady, there was still plenty of Pixie’s and my favorite treat.
Pixie handed me more cash and I got on my toes to slide the money across the metal lip of the counter.
“You two are going to turn into Creamsicles. Don’t you want to try something else?” She had long black hair that made a giant bun on the top of her head.
“We totally want to turn into ice cream. Then we wouldn’t have to go back to school.” I took our change and handed it back to Pixie. The two dudes behind us in line stepped closer to us, so we shuffled out of the way. As I peeled back the white paper, even stuffed full of pizza, I wanted to drool a little.
We tossed our wrappers out and then started our real race. Between us and the humidity, both wanted to devour the Creamsicles. My right hand was sticky and covered in gray dust and funny colored sugar drippings. Pixie lost the last bit of her ice cream in the dirt. We both stared at the fallen soldier for a few beats like it was a little tiny funeral.
“Well, that’s it for that guy. Want to find a hydrant or head home?” I grabbed Pixie’s popsicle stick and stuck it to mine before tossing it into the trash.
“I think Tocks and his friends said they were going to open one up by the park tonight.” She pointed in the direction of the impending water party.
“It’s getting kind of late. Don’t you want to get home?” I tried to get my hair out of my eyes without actually getting the remnants of the Creamsicle in it.
“I’d rather get drenched in the park and skip my shower.” She started in the direction she had pointed and I followed her.
“Sounds good to me, as long as we don’t get our butts kicked.” I spread my fingers out so they couldn’t touch.
“You’re with me. You’ll never get your butt kicked.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder by whipping her head, obviously struggling with the same sticky hands I was.
She was right. Pixie Rae knew everyone in town. Even the scary looking guys with the bandanas around their wrists and neck tattoos.
“All right.” We walked to the park, and sure enough, Tocks had cranked open the hydrant. We had to wait our turn to jump in. Hydrant games seemed very different at night. For one, there was music playing loudly. In the shadows, little glowing dots of orange hinted at the kids smoking cigarettes.
But Tocks was good and kept the smokers away from the hydrant as Pixie and I jumped around. I used the powerful spray to clean my hands, and it did a hell of a job. Pixie even bent at the waist and soaked her hair. She flipped it quickly and the drops made a brief silver constellation above her head. Then she pushed her hair away from her face.
It was actually too cold in the water to stay long. Tocks was like the king of the daytime playground, but at night he was like the mob boss. I got the very distinct feeling that he was holding more than the smokers away from Pixie and me. She gave him a big wet hug on her way out of the playground.
He hugged her back and then shook out his hands. “Nice, Pixie. This is the thanks I get.”
Pixie grinned at him and then pulled my now clean hand hard. It was time to go home for real. I had a bout of sadness at the thought of our broken plank. I really liked playing ball with Pixie. It was a great way to pass the summertime. Endless time. Laugh with her.
I walked her to her building’s door. Everything seemed safe, so I held open the door. “Thanks for my first kiss.”
Pixie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for risking your life for Fat Asshole.”
“See you upstairs!” I let the door close behind her and headed back to my building. It was nighttime now. Late even. I was glad I didn’t have to shower or think about school.
Everything in me slid into my feet when I saw my father waiting for me on the stoop outside.
_______________
“Where the hell were you?” My father threw down his lit cigarette and then stomped on it, more out of anger than from wanting to disappear the fire risk.
“I was...out?” It was phrased as a question. Why he cared, I wasn’t sure.
“Spending our money?” He pulled the door open, and as I went through it, he slapped the back of my head. Money. Of course. He was probably out. His paychecks were lasting for shorter periods of time. Partly because he was earning less because he was not making the sales he needed, but also because he was spending it faster. Hanging with Pixie made me more budget-conscious. She was always keeping track of her weekly allotment. Paying bills by popping the envelopes her mother had pre-addressed into the mailbox at certain times.