Ms. Ramirez sucked her teeth. “And what is that?” she said in a squeaky voice and heavy Spanish accent, “I don’t have any more money for you kids to smoke up. Hmph, I don’t have shit. Y’all suck the life out of me. My only child, a fuckin’ drug addict. You kids need help.”
Buffy and Sean sat silent. This was not how the conversation was supposed to start. She was already hot and ready to fire. Buffy contemplated getting up and leaving right then and there.
“So,” Ms. Ramirez said, “what do you have to tell me?”
Buffy pursed her lips and her leg began shaking uncontrollably. This was a bad idea. Buffy stood and Sean forcefully tugged her arm for her to sit back down. But she didn’t. She looked Ms. Ramirez in the eye and bit down on her lip. There was so much she wanted to say but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.
Ms. Ramirez shifted her weight to one leg. “What, are you high right now?” she snickered. “Get the words out. Where is my daughter anyway? I’m so sick of her bullshit. Sick of it. I’m missing twenty dollars from my wallet. And where is Miss Megan? Probably smoking it up. I spend too much of my life working for pennies just for my own daughter to use her dirty paws to steal from me.”
A tear dropped from Buffy’s eye.
“What the fuck are you crying for?” Ms. Ramirez said. “I should be the one crying, she–”
“Megan is dead.” Buffy finally blurted out, unable to take anymore salt being thrown on her friend’s name. “She died, Ms. Ramirez, last night.” Another tear fell from Buffy’s eye. “She was hit by a car on the boulevard.”
Ms. Ramirez’s mouth fell open and she shook her head in disbelief. “Get out my house,” she yelled.
Buffy recoiled. “What?”
“Get out,” Ms. Ramirez said. “Get out of my house, now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Buffy yelled back. “You need to know what happened.”
“You’re a liar,” Ms. Ramirez said. “You lie about everything, all of you do. If Megan doesn’t want to come home, if she’s off getting high, then say that, how dare you lie from your mouth like that?”
Sean stood and stepped in between them. “Buffy’s not lying,” he said. “We needed to tell you because Megan didn’t have any I.D. You need to identify her body.”
“Lies,” she yelled, and marched towards the dining room.
Buffy was shocked. She would never allow such vicious words to leak from her mouth unless they were true. Ms. Ramirez was making her blood boil. Buffy had just as much love for Megan as she did, maybe even more. Ms. Ramirez hunched over the dining room table with both her hands on the table. Buff took a step closer.
“I wouldn’t lie, Ms. Ramirez, I saw it with my own eyes. She was hit. I’m so sorry.”
Ms. Ramirez rapidly picked up two plates from the table and hurled them at Buffy and Sean. “Get out of my house you fuckin’ addicts.”
Sean and Buffy ducked the plates, but Ms. Ramirez circled the table and picked up two more.
“You killed my baby,” she cried. “you killed my only child.”
Sean took Buffy’s hand and pulled her close to block her from the flying objects.
“I didn’t,” Buffy yelled. “You know I loved Megan.”
Ms. Ramirez dropped the plates and dropped to her knees crying, her hands over her face. Buffy had no clue what she was saying. She didn’t have to. Whatever she was saying were the painful words from a mother’s broken heart. Ms. Ramirez rocked back and forth uttering words in Spanish in between long cries of Megan’s name.
Buffy broke down in tears and so did Sean. Scared to reach out to Ms. Ramirez, Buffy hugged Sean and cried into his chest. A warm tear from Sean fell onto her forehead. Megan’s death was too much for any of them to bare.
“I can’t even bury my baby,” Ms. Ramirez cried. “I don’t have funeral money. I never thought this would happen. I’m not prepared. My baby can’t get tossed in someone’s ditch.”
Buffy didn’t even think about the funeral. She was right. There was no way they could let Megan’s body go without a proper burial. Megan sniffed and removed her head from Sean’s chest.
“I’ll get you the money, Ms. Ramirez,” Buffy said. “I promise that.”
“Your tongue is more wicked than you,” Ms. Ramirez said. “You don’t have any money.”
Sean kissed Buffy on the forehead and nodded. “We’ll make sure of it, Ms. Ramirez. Trust me. Give us a couple days, just go and take care of what you need to.”
Ms. Ramirez looked up at them. Her face was stained from runny eyeliner and sweat dripped from her pores. “You lie,” she said. “Both of you. I don’t need your help. Leave me to handle my daughter in peace. She never needed you and never should’ve met you. Now go. Get out.”
Buffy couldn’t take anymore. She ran to the door and left the house. Sean ran after Buffy and slammed the door behind him. Buffy stood on the porch in all out tears.
“We can’t let Megan go out like that,” she said. “We have to do something.”
“Don’t worry, Buff,” Sean said. “I told you we’re in this together.” Sean embraced Buffy once again. “We’ll get the money for the funeral. You just have to follow my lead, okay?”
Buffy didn’t know how they would get the money, but she wanted to believe they would. If nothing else, at least they could try. She locked eyes with Sean and nodded. “Okay.”
7
Sean knocked on the front door of the house where his friend Ryan stayed. He knew Ryan was on his delivery route at the time, so it was the perfect time to swing past. An older black man with a heavy beard opened the door and turned his back just as quickly to return up the stairs.
“Ryan ain’t here.” The man said, his back still turned.
Sean shrugged his shoulders. “Yea, I know,” he said, “I left something in his room.” Sean removed his own house keys from his pocket and jingled them for the man to hear. “I have his keys.”
The man didn’t even turn around. He continued to his room and Sean finagled with the lock until the man was back in his room. Once the man was in his room, Sean scanned the hall. The other two rooms in the house had their doors closed. He could see from the spacing under the door that the lights were off. If the other housemates were there, they were probably sleep. As he had done in the past to help Ryan open the door when he had been locked out, Sean swiftly pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket and popped the door open. He then slithered into the room, closed the door, went straight to the closet and stole Ryan’s pistol from the top shelf. He grimaced at the weapon resting in his palm. Before he could fully indulge in the power the revolver sent throughout his veins, he tucked the weapon into his waistband and pulled his shirt down over it.
Sean opened the door a crack and peeked his head into the hallway. The coast was clear. Sean casually walked down the hall, trotted down the stairs, pulled his hoodie up on his head, and escaped out the front door.
Just as Sean turned the corner of the block, Ryan’s ’93 Honda Civic bent the corner. Sean kept his head down but Ryan brought the car to a halt. Ryan leaned over and rolled the window down. Sean, not wanting to raise an eyebrow, stopped and turned towards the vehicle.
“What’s up bro?” Ryan said.
Sean straightened his posture. The last thing he wanted was for Ryan to lure him back to the room and possibly notice the missing gun. Sean sauntered to the car and pulled his hood back.
“Yo, bro,” he said, “I was looking for you.”
The two slapped hands.
“Hop in,” Ryan said.
“Nah,” Sean said.
“I thought you were looking for me.”
“I was,” Sean said, “but Buffy is waiting back at the house for me and I promised I’d be back by nine.”
“Awe, man, c’mon,” Ryan said and popped the door open. “She’s going to bitch anyway. I scored some banging ass weed that will have you fried. You smoke this shit, then get your pipe for the dragon, you’ll bang her pussy
so hard she’ll forget about anything you ever did.” Ryan chuckled.
Sean had to play this right. Ryan was his best friend and could always pickup on a change of character in him. Sean laughed and hopped in the ride.
“I have to get home,” Sean said. “We can smoke that shit on our way to my house, cool?”
“Why are you rushing?” Ryan said.
“I told you,” Sean said, “after the shit with Megan, I don’t like leaving her home alone for a long period of time. She’s going crazy, ya know.” Sean shook his head. “I worry about her. She needs me by her side as much as possible.”
“I can’t argue with that, bro, I’m sure she’s going crazy. That’s so fucked up. When’s the funeral?”
Sean bit down on his lip and tugged at his shirt to make sure it was covering the revolver. “We’re working on that,” he said. “As soon as everything is settled I’ll let you know.”
“Cool,” Ryan said.
They pulled in front of Buffy’s house and lit the blunt. Sean could tell by looking at the weed it was laced with something, but he didn’t care to ask what. He had smoked so much shit sprayed with raid, laced with dust, and other foreign chemicals, what difference would it make. Sean prided himself on how he could so easily play things cool after doing some dirty work. Of course Ryan would find out about the gun, but he’d deal with that when it happened. Plus the gun was stolen anyway, what the hell could Ryan say? He smoked, conversed, and played his role until he exited the car.
When Sean entered the bedroom all of the lights were turned off, and Buffy was stretched across the bed. Sean made his way to Buffy’s side by moonlight. He caressed the side of her face. Her dark complexion could barely be seen in the dark, but he knew her body like the back of his hand. Buffy lay motionless. He leaned down and then rose back up startled. The yellow-whites of Buffy’s eyes shone in the dark staring directly at him. Like a corpse, Buffy’s eyes were lifeless, yet, bulging out of their sockets.
“Buff,” Sean said. He shook her until she gasped for air. Sean’s breathing had turned to a heavy pant and he held his heart. “Are you okay?”
Buffy blinked. “I was sleeping.”
“With your eyes open?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I was sleep.”
Sean observed Buffy and pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. In a year he’d never seen her sleep like that. Something else was going on.
“You ready?” he said.
Buffy swung her legs over the side of the bed and watched him. He pulled out the .38 and sat it on his lap. He tried to pass it to Buffy but she shook her head no. Sean shrugged.
“I don’t like guns,” she said, “they make feel uneasy.”
“Well you don’t have to worry about that,” Sean said.
“Good,” Buffy smiled and kissed Sean on his cheek.
“Get dressed,” Sean said, tucking the gun back into his pants. “I made a few phone calls. We have a lot of money to make in a little bit of time. I don’t want to keep Ms. Ramirez waiting, and I’m not trying to be out in these streets for more than three days.”
Buffy sprung to her feet and started pacing. “I don’t know Sean,” she said. “I’m a little scared.”
Sean watched Buffy walk back and forth. She wasn’t about to fuck this up, especially when he was doing this for her best friend. Sean eyed Buffy and clutched his fist.
“You love Megan, right?” He said.
“Yea.”
“You trust me, right, Buffy?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then let me handle everything,” he said.
Buffy quit her pacing and flopped down next to him. Her eyes met with his. Her nervous left leg shook and her lips twisted up tight. Buffy sighed.
“So while you’re handling things,” she said, “what do you want me to do?”
Sean placed his hand on Buffy’s knee and calmed her shaking. As carefree, yet assertive as he could be, Sean smirked and said, “Just keep a poker face.”
Love on the Rocks 2 is Also Available
Coming Soon
Love on the Rocks Part 3
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