Ask the Dark by Henry Turner Page B

sound from out the hall, a sort of mewling like a cat’ll make. And I sat up ’cause I knew it was Leezie crying outside my door.
    I looked over. Made me miserable to hear her. Weren’t the first time, neither. Going past’r door at night I’d heard her cry plenty’f times, ’specially nights since that mortgage letter come. Most days she was angry and bossy, and really sort’f pickin’ on me ’cause she was so damn antsy. She spent most’f her nights out, but the nights she stayed home she was always shut up in her room all alone. And she never did try’n get a job or nothing. Had me thinkin’ she was too sad to get busy, ’cause all our troubles just broke her down.
    Leezie? I say. You out there?
    My room was dark now, and Leezie come in. First she opened the door and just said, Billy? and I said, Yar? because I could hear already she was crying again. She was standing there at the door with just the hall light behind her. I could only see her outline, rest of her was dark, and I could even see her hair, which was hanging loose and stringy, which was odd because Leezie, she’s a real pretty girl and likes to take care of herself, but there you go.
    I reached out and she said, Leave the light off, and I said, Sure. Then she comes over to me and sits and I edge over. I could see she was holding something in her hand. Looked like an ink pen. But it was too dark to tell, ’cause she’d shut the door behind herself coming in.
    Why you crying, Leezie? I said.
    She didn’t say nothing and the window was open, little glow of the community center lights out there through the trees, and a cool breeze coming, ’cause the hot day had settled down.
    Do you love me, Billy? she said.
    Hell yeah, I said.
    Don’t curse, she said.
    Scuze my language, I said. But yeah, I love you lots.
    Well I love you too, Billy, she said. Or she tried to say it, getting past the choke in’r voice. I know I ain’t helped you none with making any money, she says. I’m just so scared, Billy. And I been really mean to you this summer. I’m sorry.
    Ain’t even noticed, I say.
    Then she says, Billy?
    Uh-huh?
    Look at this, she said. She meant the thing she was holdin’ in’r hand, ink-pen thing. She held it up.
    I can’t see it, I said, and I reached aside. Lemme turn—
    Leave it off! she said.
    Okay, I said.
    Just look at it, she said.
    I did. I leaned over, right over her lap. She didn’t smell like nothing. I mean she smelled like herself. I mean she didn’t have no perfume on, and was just good ole Leezie again. Thought I’d mention that.
    I looked. Looked hard. Couldn’t see a goddamn thing.
    Keep looking, she said.
    I did. And there it was. In that ink-pen-shaped thing she held, cigar-shaped thing, there it was.
    Little plus sign.
    Little glow-in-the-dark plus sign, that you saw better when you weren’t looking straight at it but a little off to the side.
    It’s a plus sign, I said. Ain’t it?
    She tried to say something but all she did was cry and breathe fast and grab at me. Then she tried again and still couldn’t.
    You right now are prob’ly looking at me thinkin’ I’m dumb because of course everybody knows what the plus sign means. But at that moment I didn’t want to know and didn’t care if I did know. I figured what with everything else going on I just weren’t interested in knowing.
    Sure, I see it, I said. What it mean?
    It means I’m having a baby, she said. She was calm all a sudden.
    Where’d you get this doohickey? How’s it work?
    Bought it at Shatze’s, she said. I had to pee on it.
    Yeah? I said. What if I pee on it? That gonna make the minus sign show up?
    Billy! she said.
    Okay, I said, thinking it’s prob’ly best not to joke with’r.
    What you gonna do about it? I said.
    She trembled. I don’t know! I’m going to have to leave school! Oh Lord, what would Mommy say? Everyone will know!
    You can’t worry about that, Leezie, I said. And Mommy, well, you never was no trouble for’r like