Chapter 5

NOVALEE

W hen someone got shot in movies, it was simple and clean. A bang, some blood seeping from the wound, and then they fell back and it was over. Nice and easy. Well, big surprise, movies lied. The first time my brother took me hunting I figured that out.

That was the one tradition our father had. Or at least the one I could remember. Every year he took both Veda and Kato with him. He’d passed away before I was old enough, so Kato took on that responsibility.

Apparently, I handled the experience better than my sister, even though I shot him in the foot. Kato was missing his baby toe, but he still took me with him every year. Veda was more than happy to let me take over the hunting partner role. She wasn’t much of an outdoorsy person, whereas I enjoyed the bugs and dirt.

So, seeing something shot wasn’t a new experience for me. One would think I would’ve handled the situation with Gio and Marty pretty good.

Was it really any different than hunting? The answer to that question was yes, yes it was. There was a big difference between an animal and a human. Only one of them stained your soul.

I dipped my hands in the full sink and splashed more water on my face.

No matter how many times I scrubbed my skin, I couldn’t get rid of Marty’s blood. Tiny specks and dots from the night before stained my cheeks. I couldn’t see them anymore, but I could feel them. They were digging into my flesh like little beads of guilt.

Then there was the smell. Burnt flesh mixed with gunpowder had been following me around. I couldn’t mask it with perfume or soap. It lingered in the air, waiting to slap me with the consequences of my actions. If I hadn’t been difficult, then Marty would be okay.

“Novalee.” Maw Maw knocked on the door. “What are you doing in there? You’re gonna be late for school.”

Two words rang through my head as I stared down at the soapy water. My fault.

Maw Maw knocked again. “Novalee.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Knowing that Maw Maw wouldn’t stop until I got ready for school, I muttered under my breath and pulled the plug. Then froze when I caught a glimpse of my reflection from the corner of my eye.

Shit.

Leaning in closer to the mirror, I inspected the deep purple bruise on the side of my face.

I was so busy trying to wash my skin clean that I hadn’t seen it before. Which just proved my lack of situational awareness, because this was bad. And not something I could pass off as an accident. It was obvious that I’d been struck by someone. There were two or three points where I could see the outline of fingers.

“Fantastic.” I sighed.

One more thing to add to the perfect morning.

One thing was for sure, I couldn’t let Maw Maw see this, let alone go to school. I could attempt to hide it, but my make-up skills were nowhere near good enough. The one time I could use Memphis’s tutorial, and I had no way to contact him. Figures. What the hell was I going to do?

“Hurry up.” Maw Maw called. “I have to help Betty-Sue at the doctors and don’t have time for your games.”

Betty-Sue was Sault Saint Marie’s hypochondriac. Every week she had some new strange disease that was going to take her life. And Maw Maw was her worst enabler, which contradicted everything I’d experienced.

Last month I had a killer migraine and still had to go to church. Yet Betty-Sue’s supposed brain parasite required immediate attention. My headache may have been self-induced from the alcohol I drank the night before, but that was beside the point.

Hold on…

The doctors? Now, there was something I could possibly work with. Let’s just hope my acting skills had improved since the last time I tried to fake being sick.

“Novalee.” Maw Maw warned.

“Coming, Maw Maw.” I paused to gag. “Let me just…” I coughed and let out a fake wretch. “Splash some water on my face.”

It seemed as if my acting skills had indeed improved. At least that was what I assumed when she asked, “are you okay?”

Of course there was always the chance that she was testing me. Maw Maw was this weird contradiction of gullible and intelligent. Some of the excuses she’d fallen for were not at all plausible. Then there were times when everything I said made perfect sense, and she’d still question me. Maybe it was one of those pick your battle scenarios? I was an exhausting child.

“Yeah,” I groaned out, trying to play on her concern. “I think I had some bad fish or something.”

Holding my breath, I anxiously waited for her response. This was the moment of truth. Would she fall for it, or would I get another boomerang shoe to the back of the head? School was a hard line for Maw Maw. There were only two reasons she would let me miss it. Both of which involved death or near death experiences.

“You don’t sound good.” I could hear her press her ear to the door. “Do you have a temperature?”

Okay, another symptom it is. “I think so. I’m sweating a lot, and I’m kind of cold.”

I hoped that wasn’t taking things too far. I didn’t want to get dragged to the doctor with Betty-Sue. But just in case, I added in a couple coughs and gags. Better safe than sorry.

“Hmm.” Maw Maw hummed. “Maybe you should go back to bed?”

Letting out the breath I was holding, I muttered, “okay, Maw Maw.”

Phew.

“You aren’t going to miss any exams, are you?”

That question I knew was a test.

“Not unless there’s a pop quiz I don’t know about.” When she didn’t respond right away, I added, “I do have a project due on Friday, so maybe I should go.”

“No, you stay here. I’ll have Memphis collect your schoolwork.”

“Okay.” I said trying not to reveal how pleased I was with myself.

Thank you Betty-Sue and your imagined illnesses.

Maw Maw was a stubborn woman. It wasn’t easy to get away with things. The trick was to make her think it was her idea. Not an easy task when it came to things like late night parties and other teenage activities. I had no idea what excuse I was going to use for my absence this weekend, but that was a later Nova’s problem.

“Are you going to be okay?” Maw Maw asked. “I can stay home if you need me too.”

“I’ll be fine Maw Maw. You go ahead.”

Even if I was sick, I’d pass on that option. In fact no sane person would want Maw Maw to take care of them. Her home remedies didn’t make people better because they worked. They worked because their body was terrified it would have to swallow more of that horrid goop. I would eat the crap I serve to people every day before swallowing one more mouthful of her concoction.

“Are you sure?”

Hell, yes I was sure. “I’m just going to sleep it off.”

That lie caused my eyes to go back to the bruise in my reflection. Pretty sure I couldn’t sleep that off, or chase away the look on Marty’s face, I was more than happy to try though.

“Alright.” Maw Maw sighed. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.” I said and tipped my ear towards the door to listen.

I’d only been able to successfully fake sick once before, and that was when I had a hangover. So, technically it wasn’t entirely fake. And even that she questioned. Maw Maw was way too suspicious as far as I was concerned. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of her suspicious days, and I was able to relax when I heard her walk out the front door.

Finally, I was alone. Not sure if that was a good thing? I should’ve been celebrating my academy worthy performance. Instead I was going over the one I gave last night. Although, I didn’t think vacant and robotic qualified as a performance. It was more like a state of mind, or lack of thinking.

My mind shut off when Gio pulled the trigger. Everything after was kind of fuzzy. Time sped up for everyone but me. For me it slowed down.

I sat there listening to my heart thump away in my chest, while the world around me moved past in flashes of distorted images. I didn’t move or say anything. I just sat there completely numb, staring at nothing. I was there, but not at the same time.

There were a few things I remembered. At some point Gio’s dad told Romeo to take me home, and I was carried outside. There was a drive, and I briefly remembered walking past Maw Maw’s yard gnomes. But I couldn’t recall actually stepping through the door.

I had no idea how I got into bed, or when I changed my clothes. Hell, I wasn’t even certain that I had slept. It felt like I’d woken up from a dream. For half a second I thought I had. The whole thing seemed like a dream.

Gio shot someone for slapping me. Who did that? Yes, he was an asshole. But a response like that. Especially from him… It was all so surreal. Like some foggy nightmare that I couldn’t shake. Even now I could hear Marty's blood dripping on the floor.

Glop…

Glop…

Glop…

It was a faint sound in the distance, along with Gio’s voice.

“I don’t give a fuck if she cut your balls off and shoved them down your throat. You don’t fucking touch her unless I say so.”

I couldn’t figure out if he was mad that I was hit, or if it was because the order didn’t come from him. Was it his need to have control, or some fucked up version of protection? And why didn’t I hate him for it? Why didn’t I stop it?

The glops in the background were driving me crazy. They rang through the air with questions and guilt.

Glop…

Why was Gio mad?

Glop…

Was it my fault?

Glop…

Was Marty dead?

My mind was a whirl of emotions I didn’t want to feel. Did Gio care? Did I? Why wasn’t I traumatized? What was wrong with me? I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Shut up.” I hissed while twisting the tap on the sink.

It didn’t work. The drips in the background continued.

Glop…

Glop…

Glop…

The incessant sounds wouldn’t stop. They continued to tick away at the back of my brain. Then something else came. Flashes of strange images that caused my brows to knit.

A table leg, dirty linoleum floor, pink pants and yellow sneakers, and a knife digging into someone’s arms as it sliced up and tore the flesh apart.

None of it made sense. I knew the shoes. When I was little, I had a pair just like them. One day, they just disappeared. I remember spending days looking for them. Kato said I outgrew them.

Glop…

Glop…

Glop…

“What’s wrong with her, Kato?”

That wasn’t Gio’s voice. Maybe I really was going insane?

Shaking the image and voices out of my mind, I left the bathroom to get a cup of coffee.

I didn’t have the patience to deal with whatever the hell that was. I barely had the patience to deal with my regular thoughts on a good day.

Grabbing the coffeepot, I pulled down my pink kitten mug, then stopped to eye Maw Maw’s bourbon. It was a good bottle. One of Whitley distilleries special editions that Maw Maw won during a poker game.

I added a shot to my coffee. Maw Maw wouldn’t miss it, and there was no better way to forget one’s troubles than to sit on the porch in the fresh morning air, while drinking away your sorrows. Which was exactly what I did. After all, it was 5 o'clock somewhere.

It was just what I needed. After spending so long stressed out, it was nice to relax for once. For once, I had nothing to worry about. No Veda freak outs, assholes or fake boyfriends, schoolwork, or Maw Maw breathing down my neck.

Even my truck was parked in her regular spot. And I wasn’t about to question how it got there. I was going to just sit back and enjoy the day. This was the life. Sitting outside with just me, the sun, and Mr. Garibaldi’s varmint war.

“I’ll git you!.” He yelled while chasing a group of raccoons with a broom.

There were three of them, and all of them were smarter than him. He'd swing his broom, and they’d dodge out of the way. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were laughing at him while doing it. It was great. I forgot how fun it was to just watch. Pants would’ve been a nice addition though. At the very least he could’ve closed his bathrobe. That man did not have the legs for boxers.

Eventually he managed to chase the racoons out of his yard. After which he went about picking his trashcans off the ground.

“You want some help with that?” I didn’t particularly want to get out of my comfy lounge chair, but I was in a good mood.

Mr. Garibaldi tipped his head my way and arched a brow. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Shouldn’t you be wearing pants?” I was starting to wonder if he owned any pants.

He completely ignored my comment. “Your Maw Maw know you’re not in school?”

“She heard the raccoons plotting last night, and thought you might need some backup.”

“Looks to me like you’re the one that could use backup.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was talking about, when he tipped his chin in my direction.

“Would you believe I did it to myself?” Let’s face it, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Your hand ain’t that big.”

Well damnit, there went that plan.

“You want to borrow my shotgun?”

Gio took care of that already. Poor Marty.

“No, it was just some asshole at school.” That was some pretty quick thinking. I might have to pat myself on the back for that one later.

“This asshole got balls?”

My brow rose. “Don’t all assholes have balls?”

Call me crazy, but I kind of thought they were a standard part of the male reproductive system.

“Exactly.” He clicked his tongue and shot me a wink. “That’s your ticket, right there.”

“Balls are my ticket?”

“That’s right.”

I was going to need a bit more clarification. “Am I supposed to kick him in the balls?”

That was the only thing I could think of.

“You can kick em, punch em, bite em. Heck grab those suckers and twist.”

Each suggestion he acted out for me. Causing his limbs to swing through the air while his open bathrobe fluttered behind. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Give him a what for. Pow, pow.” He punched his fists one after the other. “It’ll bring em to his knees.”

“Uh huh.” I nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

I didn’t think I could forget it if I wanted to. At one point I was pretty sure I saw one of his balls. That was an image I’d never be able to scrub out of my mind.

Mr. Garibaldi lifted his hand and pointed at me. “It’s all about the balls.”

“The balls, got it.”

“Every man loves his balls.”

I was getting flashbacks to the pussy conversation I had with Atlee.

“And if that don’t work, shove your fist up his periwinkle.”

Not sure I wanted clarification on that one.

“Shove it right up there.” He pumped his fist. “Ain’t no man right in the head after that.”

Pretty sure he was the one not right in the head. But who else would tell me about balls and periwinkles? When I woke up this morning, I did not think those topics would be on my conversation subject list.

We both turned as a familiar Range Rover rolled over a pothole, and pulled to a stop behind my truck. My eyes rolled. So much for a relaxing morning.

Mr. Garibaldi’s eyes narrowed. “Never trust anyone in a fancy car. They ain’t right in the head neither.”

Well, he got that one right.

Gio opened the door, stepped out and locked his glare on me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I looked down at the wicker arms of my chair, then back at him. “I appear to be sitting.”

His face dropped. “I can see that.”

Then why did he ask?

“Got any other smart remarks?” He asked while stepping up to our white plastic gate.

Well, if he insisted. “Your left leg is shorter than the right.”

Satisfaction rolled through my chest when he paused to look down at his legs.

“Keep it up,” he hissed while easily opening the gate – which I hated him for. “And your left ass cheek will be redder than the right.”

“Who’s this idget?.” Mr. Garibaldi asked, making me snicker. “You want me to get my shotgun?”

Tempting but… “No, unfortunately this idget is my boyfriend.”

The fact that I wasn’t disturbed by the term boyfriend was something I was not about to analyze anytime soon.

“Well, I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Mr. Garibaldi sucked air through his teeth while Gio sauntered up the walk. Gio stopped at the stairs leading up to the porch and eyed my neighbor.

Mr. Garibaldi eyed him back. “What you want, boy?”

Gio’s brows knit, causing a crease in his forehead. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Mr. Garibaldi asked back.

Gio puffed his chest out and proudly announced, “I’m Giovanni Mancini.”

“Congratulations Giovanni Mancini. You’re an idget with a fancy name.”

“My bad.” I interrupted while trying not to laugh. “Gio, Mr. Garibaldi.” I waved my hand from one to the other. “Mr. Garibaldi, Gio.”

The proper response when one was introduced to another person was a polite greeting. Or just a general greeting. Neither of which Gio did.

Instead he looked Mr. Garibaldi dead in the eyes and said, “I don’t give a fuck who he is.”

Ugh, rude.

Apparently, shooting a man didn’t soften him up any.

Mr. Garibaldi wasn’t taking his attitude. “Have your balls even dropped yet, boy?”

“My balls are none of your concern, old man.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Based on my recent conversation, I’d say Mr. Garibaldi was very invested in balls.

Gio arched a brow at me, while Mr. Garibaldi gave a knowing wink.

“Don’t forget the periwinkle.” He shot Gio a dirty look. “This one looks like he needs it.”

I couldn’t argue with that, though I still wasn’t sure what a periwinkle was.

Gio snapped his glare back to Mr. Garibaldi and rolled his shoulders back. “You got a problem with me old man?”

I rolled my eyes. Only Gio Mancini would pick a fight with an old man. Mind you my neighbor wasn’t much better.

He swung his eyes my way and said, “you sure you don’t want me to shoot him?”

As amusing as this was, if I didn’t say something then the angry vein throbbing on Gio’s forehead might pop. I did not want to witness another shooting.

“Nah, I can handle him.” I glared at Gio in a way that I hoped would make him let it go. “You’ve got more important things to deal with.”

I nodded my head to the back left corner of his yard, where two raccoons were lurking. And just like that Mr. Garibaldi’s attention was diverted.

“Goddamn critters.” He shot Gio one last stare, added, “I’ve got my eyes on you boy.” Then took off, waving his broom through the air like a madman.

Gio watched him with a curled lip. “Why the hell were you talking to him?”

Mr. Garibaldi might seem slightly off, but he was harmless.

“I’m having a secret affair with him. Saggy balls really turn me on.”

“Uh huh?” Gio grumbled unimpressed. “Is that why you didn’t answer your phone?”

Oh yeah. I forgot about my phone.

“No, I threw that in the lake.” Technically it slipped through my hands when I was startled, but if I said that then I’d have to explain why I was startled, and I wasn’t about to venture down that road.

He stepped up on the porch and cocked a brow. “You threw your phone in the lake?”

What was so hard to understand about that?

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Because a guy named Snake snuck up behind me, which was something else I didn’t care to explain.

“Well, I kept getting calls and texts.” I rolled my eyes. “It was really annoying.”

It really was annoying. Whoever invented the cellphone should be shot.

This time it was Gio who rolled his eyes. “God forbid someone calls you on the phone.”

“Gio Mancini, is that sarcasm?” I didn’t know he was capable of that. I was a little disturbed by it. That was my move.

“Does it look like I’m in a joking mood?”

No, no, he didn’t. He looked like he did every day. Angry and annoyed. Too bad. For a second, I thought he removed that stick from his ass.

“Why weren’t you in school, Nova?”

“Why aren’t you in school?”

Ah ha!

“Because you didn’t answer your fucking phone!”

Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. “Well, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t hear it ring under all that water.”

Not to mention how far Quackwater was from here. I didn't have super hearing powers.

“Is that how this conversation is going to go?”

I mean… “Did you really expect anything else?”

He should know better by now.

“Okay.” Gio clicked his tongue and folded his arms over his chest. “We can play your game.”

Excellent.

“But you’ll get fucked in front of you neighbor.”

He just had to go and take the fun out of it.

My eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“You sure about that?” he tipped his head. “How far do you think I’d be willing to go to humiliate you right now?”

Let’s see, on a normal day he’d go pretty far, and judging by the way his forehead was crinkled, I’d say his mood was extra sour today. Meaning things didn’t look too good for me. Now ask me if I cared.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite adept at humiliating myself, so do your worst.”

I humiliated myself so much that I didn’t get embarrassed anymore. The naked gator squirrel fight I had at Greg Davisson’s party last year kind of drew that line in the sand.

“Get in the house before I shoot your neighbor in the head.”

Okay, that was pretty bad.

There was no doubt in my mind that he would do it. If last night had taught me anything, it was that he had no problem pulling the trigger. Gio won this round.

“Fine.” I stood up and marched past him. “But I’m having another cup of coffee.”