Take the Stairs Read online

  Take the Stairs

  Take the Stairs

  by

  karen krossing

  NATIONAL LIBRARY OF CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION DATA

  Krossing, Karen, 1965-

  Take the stairs / Karen Krossing.

  ISBN 1-896764-76-2

  I. Title.

  PS8571.R776T34 2003 jC813'.6 C2003-905167-6

  Copyright © 2003 by Karen Krossing

  First published in the USA in 2004

  Edited by Kathryn Cole

  Cover art by Marilyn Mets

  Text design by Lancaster Reid Creative

  Printed and bound in Canada

  Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program, and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative.

  Published by

  SECOND STORY PRESS

  720 Bathurst Street, Suite 301

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada

  M5S 2R4

  www.secondstorypress.on.ca

  To Mom, Dad, and Barb

  For the many obstacles

  we have overcome

  together

  Contents

  The Building

  Hide and Seek (Petra, Apt. 312)

  Tailwind (Louis, Apt. 1517)

  Grains of Sand (Magda, Apt. 220)

  Opportunity (Flynn, Apt. 606)

  Stern Paddle (Sidney, Apt. 1219)

  Stinks Like Flowers (David, Apt. 1407)

  Night Watch (Allie, Apt. 412)

  Easy Target (Asim, Apt. 1005)

  The Many Faces of Men, Boys, and Pigs (Cori, Apt. 111)

  Off the Couch (Roger, Apt. 615)

  Leg Fungus (Tanya, Apt. 901)

  The Queen of Spades (Jennifer, Apt. 721)

  Take the Stairs (Tony, Apt. 818)

  The Building

  SIXTY-FOUR WILNUT STREET. A fifteen-storey brick building butted against a pocket of comfortable houses. One face of the Building looks lazily across four lanes of traffic to a shabby strip mall. The other face ignores its tired playground to gaze at the houses nestled on the lip of the valley. Round green trees hide the valley floor. But back to the Building.

  Balconies are crammed with bikes, empty beer cases, and broken furniture. A shopping cart stands deserted outside the front door. The super, Mag Jennings, slouches and smokes in the lobby. The halls hang heavy with the smell of roach spray and the rivalry of tonight’s meals. And behind the tightly locked apartment doors: the drone of a television, angry voices, and a troubled sigh.

  Dusk settles over the Building. Blinds lower; curtains snap shut. The Building closes to the few people still lurking outside and tightens around the secret hopes of those within. The Building.

  Hide and Seek

  Petra

  Apt. 312

  I STOOD APART AS THEY CALLED out the rules to the game, a hint of roach spray from the Building still clinging to me.

  “Tony’s it.” Jennifer smiled at him. Her skin white and her hair dyed as black as a bottle of ink.

  “The signpost is home free,” said David, breaking out of the sullen mood he’d been in since his dad had died.

  “No going inside.” Flynn’s voice echoed off the Building.

  The Building was officially called The Monteray, although anyone who lived there just called it the Building. It was like any other run-down building in any other city. No one stayed long, if they could help it.

  “Why is Tony it? I want to be it.” Louis was the youngest at fifteen, although we were all too old to be playing hide and seek.

  The crickets halted their thrum as I walked across the grass toward the others. Twilight on a summer’s evening. Day giving over to night. The sky turning a menacing shade of indigo like a deep, violent bruise.

  “Tony’s it,” Flynn yelled. Louis looked like he wanted to run him over with his mountain bike. “Got to stay within the compound. No going in the underground. Everything else goes. No home free. No time out. Once you’re caught, you join the search. We play until everyone’s found. How many of us are there? Twelve? OK. You’ve got to find eleven, Tony.”

  Flynn talked as if only he knew how to play, but he was lousy at hiding.

  Then Flynn saw me. “Hey! How about a game of hide and seek, Petra? You in?”

  I nodded.

  “OK! You’ve got to find twelve, Tony!”

  “Petra’s too hard to find,” Roger said. He was a lumbering, gentle Black guy who was always easy to catch.

  “I can find her.” Tony shoved him playfully. “Let’s start the hunt.”

  I said nothing.

  “Look who’s talking, Rog.” Magda draped a tanned arm around my shoulder and smiled with white teeth at Roger. “Weren’t you the one who went up to your apartment to watch TV last time? Came down after your show was over.” Giggles and jeers.

  I almost smiled. Magda—polished golden hair and topaz eyes. With my black hair and olive skin, we looked like complete opposites. Yet she was the only person that I could maybe talk to. That I might be able to trust.

  “That’s it,” said Flynn. “Petra plays. Ready?”

  Nods and muttering all around.

  Then Flynn saw Asim heading to the Building. “Hey, Asim! The game’s on.”

  Asim was walking, tall and silent, beside his short, round mother in her headscarf. He called to Flynn. “I can’t. I have to baby-sit.”

  “Later then.” Flynn turned with a jerk. “Let’s go. Tony, count to 30.”

  “I’ll give you 20,” said Tony.

  Flynn opened his mouth to argue, but Tony began to count. “1, 2, 3, …”

  I turned toward the Building and crept along the shadow of the wall, my body compact. I’d worn my hair in a long braid, and black clothes for camouflage. Flexible fabric for running, and something I could sleep in, just in case.

  Everyone scattered—through the playground, around the pool, among the huge garbage bins, under the trees. Cori led Allie behind a bush to hide. Tanya joined them too, even though there wasn’t enough room. She was dressed in army boots and a bright tie-dyed dress that could never be hidden. Together they laughed and squirmed, as if they hoped to get caught.

  I shook my head. Maybe they didn’t see the danger all around. Maybe they didn’t need to practice. Passing them, I moved through the grounds with my eyes shut. A test of skill. I crept across the grass, not opening my eyes until I sensed I was right before a tree. Bull’s eye! I scrambled up the dark side. My first hiding spot would be high above the ground where I could watch.

  I had known that I was different from the others for a while—that they couldn’t see in the dark. That I had a heightened instinct for survival. I learned it from my mother’s cat.

  Smoke, she called it. It was gray with glacier-blue eyes. Not a friendly cat, although it did blend well with the evening shadows in our apartment. When the room filled with the scent of violence—sweat and blood, fear and hatred—it found a tiny space where it wouldn’t be seen. I watched the cat move under the low coffee table, behind the couch, around the floor lamp. Its motion was so fluid that it never got hurt. Not like my mother. He smacked at her with big fists. Tossed her easily across the room. My mother, soft and fleshy, like a bruised peach. Her hair was black clouds. Her sounds soft moans, raspy breaths, whispered secrets to herself in Mandarin. Given the choice, I followed the cat.

  From my hiding spot, I watched Tony find Jennifer without effort. Jennifer had hidden under the slide where Tony could see her. She had a thing for him, although it
wouldn’t last long. It never did with Jennifer. Jennifer sprinted away from him in her tight black skirt and he bolted after her, grabbing her around the waist. To catch her, he just had to touch her, but he tackled her to the ground.

  Laughing, Jennifer and Tony rolled around together. Then Jennifer pushed him off and brushed the grass and candy wrappers out of her hair. Just as they began to search hand-in-hand, Flynn peeked around the corner of the Building.

  “Get him.” Jennifer pushed Tony after Flynn.

  As Tony tagged him, Flynn said, “I was home free. I was touching the pole.”

  He pointed to the signpost, which was nowhere near him. No Ball Playing.

  “Yeah, right,” said Tony. “You said there was no home free.”

  Jennifer caught up to them and stood beside Tony.

  “Oh, no! I said the pole was home free. Right, Jennifer?” Flynn turned beggar’s eyes on Jennifer, his desire for her on his face.

  Jennifer shook her head and rubbed against Tony’s arm.

  “I tell you, I was touching that pole.”

  “Listen, turd. No way you were touching that pole,” said Tony, hands on hips. Jennifer giggled.

  “Takes one to know one,” muttered Flynn.

  Tony made a fist in front of Flynn’s face. He would have walloped Flynn except that Roger wandered out of hiding.

  “Tired of it already?” Jennifer laughed.

  “Yeah, well. I’ve got to go.” Roger yawned. “There’s a good movie on soon.”

  They all laughed at Roger as he lumbered toward the Building, scratching under his arm with slow, thorough fingers.

  “What a couch potato,” said Flynn, the fight forgotten.

  Then Allie, Cori, and Tanya started whispering. Their hiding place was near my tree, but I wasn’t worried. If anyone did look up and see me, they would still have to tag me.

  Tony, Jennifer, and Flynn heard them too, and the chase was on. Tony caught Allie easily because she froze in panic. Flynn tagged Tanya because her dress tangled her up. Cori was a problem—she tried to climb my tree. Using stillness as my shield, I willed myself to melt into the branches. Jennifer pulled Cori down, scraping her arms against the rough bark.

  “Hey, watch it!”

  Jennifer ignored Cori and squinted up into the tree, but darkness wouldn’t give me up.

  Then Sidney broke from her hiding place behind the cluster of boulders beyond the playground. Sidney was small but fast. She ran through the parking lot and out of sight. Running for her life. Running far away from us all. The others gathered themselves up and ran after her. Only then did I move.

  I slipped down the tree to find a new hiding spot, because the secret to not being found is to keep moving. I padded over to the unlit pool, slid through the half-open gate, and lowered myself into the water without a ripple, my fingers over the edge. The water still held the warmth of the sun. No one would look for me here. Not even my father.

  I never looked at my father anymore, although his furious white face was a warning flag in my mind. Skin contorted by cracks of anger. Blue eyes blazing hate. Look at him and be turned to stone. The stone of death, or worse, the stone of living death like my mother. I knew his bitter stench after a night at the tavern. His heavy breathing as he stalked his prey. The smack when he caught my mother, then the animal cry from her throat.

  He grew more powerful as he beat her. I could see the rush he got from it, but she couldn’t feed him enough. He began to need strength from new sources. He turned to me.

  Thinking of him, I was surprised to hear his voice. Then I saw his silhouette framed by the light from the side door. The door shut with a hollow clang and darkness consumed him until he stepped under the lamppost.

  “Where is she? Where’s my kid?” he called out in a rumbling voice, clenching his fists.

  “I wish I knew,” Tony said.

  A few others laughed. I was sure they wouldn’t give me away. Not that they could ever find me.

  A scowl crossed my father’s face, then he almost brightened. “You’re playing hide and seek? Tell you what. Just to make the game interesting, I’ll give twenty bucks to whoever finds Petra and brings her up to the apartment.” He peeled a bill off a wad of cash and flashed it around. Then he added with fake concern, “She’s late. Past her curfew.”

  “I don’t know.” Magda was with the others.

  “What’s the big deal?” Cori asked. She always thought about herself first.

  “Yeah!” Tony said. “I could use twenty bucks!”

  “We could share it with Petra,” suggested Magda.

  “We’ll do it, sir,” said Flynn. Echoes from the others.

  That stopped the game, or gave it a sinister new twist. Everyone began to search for me. My father lurched back into the Building.

  I pushed down the panic with a gulp and coiled into a tense spring, waiting for a chance to get clear of this mess. Memories of what my father could do flooded me, and I fought not to lose my concentration. He’d only caught me once, but that was enough. He’d banged my head with one fist, then the other, and he’d thrown my body around the room. But I wasn’t in my body. I’d hidden from him, left my body behind. I was a rock, strong and everlasting. Now, he had returned for me, even used Magda against me. The game never ended. How long could I hide?

  “Here she is,” came a shout, too close. “Help me.” Footsteps on the concrete. The squeak of the gate pushed open. Four hands lifted me dripping from the pool. How was I found? Thinking about my father was my weakness. My distraction. I had to focus.

  “Let’s take her in.”

  I hung still in their arms, as if dead. Waterlogged, my clothes were clinging, my braid dripped down my back, and goosebumps prickled my skin. I needed time to think. Tony. Jennifer. Cori. Flynn. He had changed them—cast his blood-red gloom over them. Did everyone have claws? Was no one safe?

  I had to protect myself. I could trust no one. My heart pumped faster and blood flowed into my muscles, preparing for the fight. Then I became the jungle cat I was. I snarled with claws extended, searing flesh from bone. Scratching eyes. Kicking shins. Until I was free. Until the hands released their grip.

  I ran to the driveway and straight down the ramp to the underground. Glancing back, I saw only a track of wet footprints slowly fading as my sandals dried. The garage door was just scraping shut after a car. I rolled under it then ran again, my wet clothes now caked with dirt. Blinked in the fluorescent light. The scent of stale oil and gas stung my nostrils. I veered into the back seat of an abandoned car where I sometimes slept.

  Forcing my breathing to slow, I wrung the water out of my braid and brushed most of the dirt off myself. Then I curled, soggy and shivering, into the old blanket that I had brought once, and ran my fingers along its satin edge for comfort.

  Would they follow me? I would have to stay alert and not give in to sleep. I had too much to lose. The future that stretched out before me. The promise of escape. My life. No one would take that away from me.

  Then I thought, why hide? Maybe I should seek. Seek a way out. Seek a place without him. My mother might choose to stay, but I wouldn’t.

  An engine started up. An old blue pick-up. I dropped out of the car and sneaked down the row until I was near the ramp, hidden in the shadow of a post. The yellow-green ceiling lights buzzed indifferently. Like the Building couldn’t care less what happened to me.

  I listened for the others. Watched. Nothing. The pick-up edged out of its spot and toward the garage door. The wheels rolled over the trigger cable and the door began to creak open. A man sat idle in the driver’s seat, waiting for the door to lift. Windows shut. Crooning Frank Sinatra music loud enough for me to hear.

  The door opened fully. Brake lights dimmed.

  I dashed for the truck. Swung into the back and squatted down as it pulled up the ramp and heaved over the potholes. I peeked into the cab at the driver, my heart hammering. If he was aware of me, he didn’t show it.

  The driver turn
ed past the garbage bins. I saw Louis and Allie heading in for the night. Where were the others? Had they given up looking for me? Maybe. Tony and Flynn were still out. Magda, Jennifer, and Cori.

  I wanted to stand up and shout to them—to come out of hiding—but the risk of losing my ride was too great. Instead, just as we neared them, I dared to stick my head up over the edge. Waved one arm in triumph. Waved goodbye to the Building.

  Jennifer saw me first. Cori yelled and pointed. Tony and Flynn with surprised eyes, mouths dropped open. Beautiful, golden Magda smiled. Waved me off like a queen.

  If only Mom were with me. I crouched back down and tried not to think about her, alone with him. Maybe I could come back for her.

  The truck’s engine rumbled through me as we rattled and bounced away from the Building. Rows of darkened stores with only a few dim lights breezed past us. I shuddered in my wet clothes. Where would I go? A shelter? My grandmother’s place, west of the city? I didn’t know yet.

  There is a time to hide and a time to seek. I had mastered hiding. Now, I had to learn to seek.

  Tailwind

  Louis

  Apt. 1517

  I THREW ONE LEG OVER MY MOUNTAIN BIKE and powered up the pedals. I’d just finished a can of pop—my traditional swallow of rocket fuel before take-off. My stomach was pleasantly bubbling with a delicious mix of gas, sugar, and caffeine. I’d slept late then gulped back a breakfast of eggs and toast. My bike buzzed beneath me. We were ready for the Path.

  I discovered the Path last year. Had to have some way of getting around. I wanted to share Dad’s car with my sister Gina when I turn sixteen next month, but Dad said, “Your sister needs the car to be safe in the city, Louis.” I never got why she was so special.

  The Path, just two blocks from the Building, was a web of bike trails that ran through the city valleys. There were the regular asphalt paths as well as a few dirt trails that a lot of city bikers knew about, with some small hills and a few jumps along them. Yet for me, the Path was the rugged tracks that the gang carved out of the valley hillsides. From hard-packed clay to sand so fine it was just dust. Steeps that were near impossible after a rain. Fallen tree trunks, thick shrubs, and natural rock jumps that could kill.