Magic to the Bone by Devon Monk Page B

need a place to stay. Does Mama have a cot I could rent for the night? I have cash.’’
     
     
    He raised his eyebrows and a wicked glint lit his eyes.
     
     
    Oh, good going, Allie. Tell a man who is never three inches away from a gun that you have cash in your pocket.
     
     
    ‘‘Not much,’’ I amended, ‘‘but I could pay something.’’ He just stared at me. Said nothing. I tried to remember if this Boy was mute. ‘‘Is Mama here?’’ I asked.
     
     
    ‘‘I’m here,’’ Mama’s voice said from somewhere to my left.
     
     
    Oh, it was going to take a lot to actually move my head. I weighed my options, and decided to go for broke. I turned my head and the room blurred. Little silver sparks wriggled like tadpoles around the edges of my vision moving in closer and closer until Mama and the whole wide world were far, far away at the end of a tunnel. Wow. Who needed drugs?
     
     
    ‘‘Allie girl. Who does this to you?’’ Mama strode over to me. She reached up and gripped my face, her small, cool fingers on either side of my jaw. ‘‘This bad. A hit? Someone hit you?’’
     
     
    ‘‘It’s my fault,’’ I said. ‘‘I need a place to sleep. I can’t go home.’’
     
     
    She gave me a long, steady stare. I wondered what she was looking for in my eyes. Didn’t know if it was there. Didn’t much care. The room was going black, the tadpoles well on their way to full frogdom, and the pain in my head and bones sort of rattled through me in waves.
     
     
    Mama’s touch was like a cool rag on a fever. Like Zayvion’s fingers. No, not like that, more like what I’d always hoped my own mother would do for me—be caring and soft and make the pain go away when I hurt. Mama’s hands created a wall between me and the pain, and I wondered if the pain wouldn’t mind staying away for a while so I could get a little shut-eye.
     
     
    Before I actually dozed off, Mama got tired of looking in my eyes. She lifted her hands from my face and nodded. ‘‘You hurt. Stay here. Upstairs. You think you can go upstairs, Allie girl?’’
     
     
    ‘‘Sure,’’ I said. It came out a little slurred and slow, but true to my word, I pushed off the counter and let Mama, and her strong hand on my elbow, then her strong arm around my waist, lead me across the room and through the door to a narrow hallway where a zag of wooden stairs laddered up.
     
     
    I remember taking the first step. The rest of the climb got fuzzy after that, and the next thing I saw was Boy—the one with the beard and ponytail who is usually in the kitchen—looking down at me. I was apparently flat on my back, and I hoped I was in a bed.
     
     
    ‘‘What?’’ I said. Then Boy moved back and Mama was there. For reasons I didn’t really want to analyze, I was really glad she was around right now.
     
     
    She looked down toward my feet, which I thought rather odd; then she was back in my line of vision and something thick and soft was pulled up over me. A quilt. Oh, loves. It was almost enough to make a distrustful, jaded girl like me weep. Almost.
     
     
    ‘‘You sleep now, Allie girl,’’ Mama said firmly. ‘‘You sleep. Mama’s here.’’
     
     
    I had never been so happy in all my life to do exactly what someone told me to do.
     
     
    Happy Birthday to me.
     

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
    C ody used to like rocking best of all, but now he liked sitting very still and watching Kitten play. Kitten wasn’t very good at walking yet, but she could find the plate of water Cody put on the floor for her, and could stay quiet when the guard came by to look inside his room every day and night. She slept under his chin, and he liked that. She was warm, and good, and fun. She was the best friend ever.
     
     
    Cody didn’t know how long he and Kitten had been friends, but the cut on his stomach still hurt and, if he moved the wrong way, it felt hot and stiff like maybe it would bleed again. It didn’t feel like it was