Burning Midnight (8 page)

“Except the Cherry Red was probably worth ten times that. I was just a thirteen-year-old kid, so I didn't know that when you told me your offer was only good for thirty minutes.”

Holliday made a sour face. “Back then? Twenty-five? No way.”

Sully realized that for a few minutes he'd begun to think maybe Holliday wasn't the biggest scumbag on the planet. Now he was back to his original opinion on the subject. He leaned up against a built-in desk, facing Holliday.

“To be honest, Alex, I'm surprised you'd ask me to work for you. I mean, I
know
you're a thief and a liar. I may have been thirteen, but I was still there, in that room.”

Holliday's smile flattened a little.

“I
know
some of those things you swore under oath you said to me were never said. You cheated a kid, then you lied about it.” Sully pushed off the desk, headed for the door. “I wouldn't work for you in a million years.”

“Hey.”
The doorknob clicked as Sully reached for it. The door was locked. “Don't turn your back on me, Dollar Meal.” Holliday stalked over, stuck his finger in Sully's face. “This isn't
Rocky.
This is the real world. You don't want to work for me? Fine. Graduate high school, then go flip hamburgers. But watch how you speak to me, and about me, or I will wreck you. Do you understand?”

Sully should have been scared, but all he felt was rage. He wanted to bite Holliday's finger off and spit it in his face. “Unlock the damned door.”

“I'll unlock it when I'm finished,” Holliday said through his perfect teeth, courtesy of a pair of Ruby Reds. “I asked you a question.”

Sully kept his gaze hard on Holliday. “And I told you to unlock the damned door.”

Sully could almost see the wheels turning in Holliday's head. He didn't want to back down and unlock the door, but what was he going to do? Summon a bodyguard and have him beat Sully until Sully said he understood? That would just prove Sully's point, that Holliday was nothing but a criminal. Or Holliday could take a swing at Sully himself. Sully would like that, even though Holliday was pumped up with Peach, Chocolate, and Cream spheres.

Holliday touched the remote in his hand. The lock clicked open. “Don't ever come back here.”

“Don't worry.” Sully yanked the door open and stormed out.

Mandy and Dom were waiting with Cosette. It looked as if they'd run out of conversation topics.

“Come on,” Sully said, striding toward the elevator.

With Mandy and Dom on his heels, Sully stepped into the waiting elevator. The operator was back to staring at the buttons, the friendly smile gone.

“What did he want?” Dom asked as they descended.

“He offered me a job.”

Despite everything, Sully got a kick out of Dom's bug-eyed reaction. “
What?
What did you tell him?”

“I told him I don't work for thieves.” Sully watched the elevator operator's profile. He showed no reaction.

Mandy, on the other hand, burst out laughing.

While they were crossing the parking lot on the way to Dom's car, Mandy dumped a pile of snow on Sully's head, setting off a snowball fight that left all three of them panting, red-faced, and laughing. As the fight was petering out, Dom raised his eyebrows at Sully when Mandy wasn't looking. Sully gave him a questioning look. Dom gestured emphatically for Sully to take a walk. He'd almost forgotten Dom's plan to ask Mandy out.

Sully got in the car. Fortunately, he could still hear them.

“That was a blast,” Dom said.

“Thanks for talking me into coming out. I feel so much better.”

“You want to do something tomorrow after school? Maybe go to Nathan's?”

“Sully, too?” Mandy asked.

“Nah. Tuesday is Sully's marble-hunting day. With the girl in the gloves.”

“Wait. Are you asking me out?” Mandy sounded perplexed. That didn't seem like a good sign.

“Yeah. I guess.” Dom sounded hesitant. He was picking up on the surprise in her voice, too. Sully turned partway around so he could see them.

“Dom, I'm sorry. I should have mentioned earlier, but it never came up.”

Dom looked at the ground. “You have a boyfriend?”

“No. Dom, I'm gay.”

Dom's thick eyebrows pinched. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “Damn. That's even worse. If it was a boyfriend I could hope you'd break up with him.”

Laughing, Mandy leaned in, kissed Dom's cheek. “That's sweet, though.
Thank you.
I was wondering why you suddenly seemed nervous.”

“I
was
nervous.”

Sully cracked the door open. “Can I come back out now?”

Mandy peered around Dom, saw Sully sitting in the car, and burst out laughing. “Is that why you got in the car? What, did Dom give you a signal?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Mandy sighed. “Very smooth.” She turned to Dom. “We're still friends, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Dom said immediately. “Of course. You're a blast.”

Mandy's eyes got a little misty. “I didn't think—” She choked up. For a moment, she couldn't speak. She fanned herself with one hand, blinking back tears. “I didn't think anything could cheer me up tonight, but I've had the best time.”

“What happened?” Dom asked. “We didn't want to pry, but we were wondering why you were so down.”

Mandy waited as two shoppers speaking in low voices passed.

“I broke up with my girlfriend, Alexis, a couple of days ago.” She reached up and rubbed her nose, which was pink from the cold. “As it turns out, most of our friends were her friends, or at least they're taking her side.” She shrugged. “Suddenly I don't have many friends.”

“Well, you've got two, anyway,” Dom said.

Sully was winded by the time he reached the fifth floor. As he approached Hunter's apartment, number 503, he could hear so many voices inside it sounded like someone was having a party.

The door swung open as soon as he knocked. A boy about ten years old looked up at him, clutching the knob.

“Is Hunter here?”

The kid turned, yelled something in Spanish. Sully couldn't see much, because the living room was divided into smaller spaces by old blankets hanging from the ceiling. Based on the voices he guessed twenty people were in there. He heard angry voices—two men having an argument—coming from a back bedroom. To his right, a blanket-free corridor ran along the edge of the room toward what he guessed was the kitchen.

One of the blankets swung back, giving him a glimpse inside as a woman stepped out. The space was packed with cardboard boxes and three rolled-up sleeping bags. There was also a little square TV and piles of clothes.

Hunter appeared in the corridor, smiling.

“Ready?” Sully asked.

Hunter nodded. She didn't turn to say goodbye to anyone, just led him out.

“Wow, that's a lot of people,” Sully said.

“That's because it's Christmas Eve, and because it's winter. On an average day in the summer there might be just eight or ten.”

Sully's little apartment didn't seem so cramped all of a sudden.

It was snowing as they pulled into the Garden Apartments. Sully thought that was perfect. Any other time of year he hated snow, but who didn't want tree branches and roofs covered with white on Christmas Eve? It even brightened the Garden Apartments, and that was a challenge. Those joyless redbrick rectangles evenly spaced on a flat parcel of land didn't have much going for them beyond being close to McDonald's and Price Chopper.

He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. “I want to apologize in advance for anything weird or inappropriate my mother says. She means well.”

Turning to pull her pack out of the backseat, Hunter said, “The woman's welcoming me into her house on Christmas, feeding me a turkey dinner. It'll take a hell of a lot for her to offend me.”

“We'll see if she's up to the challenge.”

The door opened before he could turn the knob. Mom burst through wearing a hat in the shape of a Christmas tree, a strip of white fur around the band.

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Sully turned to Hunter. “This is my friend Hunter.”

Mom opened her arms and enveloped Hunter. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Sullivan.”

Mom waved her words away. “The more, the merrier. It's always too quiet on Christmas with just Sully and me.” She looked from Hunter to Sully and back again. “The mighty hunters. Over dinner I want to hear you tell the story of finding the Hot Pink, Hunter.”

Sully showed Hunter his room, where she'd be sleeping while Sully took the couch in the living room. He felt a little self-conscious as she looked around, taking in the Kate Upton poster with amusement. Sully had removed all signs of baseball cards, video games, Marvel superhero comics and figures, and anything else that seemed boyish, and hidden them in his closet. He felt okay about Hunter seeing his baseball equipment, which was stashed in a corner, the framed eight-by-ten photos he'd taken on their trip to the Adirondacks two years ago. Leaving the Kate Upton poster up might have been a mistake.

He ducked out to let Hunter get situated.

His mom was in the kitchen. Sully helped himself to one of the chocolate-covered pretzels spread on a serving dish on the kitchen table. As he took a bite, Mom pointed a spatula at him and whispered, “Don't even
think
about having sex with this girl in my house.”

Sully coughed, nearly choking on the pretzel. At least she hadn't said it with Hunter in the room. He wouldn't put that past her. “Jeez, Mom.” He raised his hands. “If I was going to, if she were the least bit interested, I sure wouldn't do it in my bedroom with my mother on the other side of the wall, listening.”

“I wouldn't be listening. I'd be plugging my ears and humming.”

Sully laughed, despite how uncomfortable he was feeling. “That's good to know.” He turned toward the counter and took another pretzel; his face felt so hot he was sure it was glowing bright red.

Mom pulled open a drawer, started taking out silverware. “So you're not having sex with her?”

Sully cringed at how loud she said it. “You know, these walls are paper thin. I used to listen to Jay Leno through them while I was falling asleep. No, Mom, she's just a friend.”

“Awfully pretty friend.”

The toilet flushed.

A moment later Hunter joined them, still wearing her gloves with the fingertips cut off.

“So, Hunter, Sully tells me you were homeless.” Mom pressed a hand to her chest. “That just breaks my heart. He said your mother died?”

“Mom.” Sully was trying to stay calm. “Let her drink a glass of eggnog before you interrogate her.”

Mom pulled a Christmas cup down from the cabinet, poured a glass of eggnog, and set it in front of Hunter. “Now, tell me your life story.”

Hunter lifted the cup, laughing.

“Sully,”
someone called from outside. Then again,
“Sul-ly,”
this time a chorus of voices, singing his name, badly.

Sully went to the big picture window that overlooked the common area. The whole gang was looking up at him: Mike, Laurie, Donny, Jim, Bugs, four or five others.

His phone signaled an incoming text message. Sully pulled the phone from his back pocket. It was from Donny.

Come on out! We're caroling.

He showed the message to Hunter. “Want to go caroling?”

She shrugged. “I don't know the words to any songs.”

“That's okay; they don't either.”

When they were in the hallway, out of earshot of his mom, Sully said, “The caroling is just an excuse for them to get away from their folks and drink.”

“Got it. They don't look like carolers.”

Sully introduced Hunter to the gang, then they headed off along the frozen ground. Mike broke out in a loud rendition of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” almost completely devoid of melody. Some of the others joined in, but after the “God and sinners reconcile” line, everyone muttered incoherent syllables that degenerated into laughter. No one knew what came next.

“Here you go.” Mike handed Sully an open carton of eggnog. Sully took a swig, and winced. It was about eighty percent vodka.

Mike patted his back. “That'll put some hair on your chest.”

Sully offered it to Hunter. She took a drink and blinked as she returned the carton to Mike. “You're supposed to leave some of the eggnog.”

“Welcome to the Yonkers alcoholics club,” Mike said.

Laurie sidled up, gave Sully a quick one-armed hug as they walked. Her pale cheeks were red, her eyes warm from shots of eggnog-flavored vodka. It was strange to look at Laurie and feel only the faintest stirring of what had once felt like a volcano of love, a Fourth of July finale of passion. They'd gone out for only a few weeks; then she'd given him an awkward speech about “liking him as a friend, but not…you know.”

Bugs caught his eye behind Hunter's back, gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Sully just smiled. There was no behind-the-back hand signal for
I know, she's really something, but we're just friends.

Donny and Jim, who were brothers, were pelting windows with snowballs. Neither was wearing gloves.

“So, Hunter, what did you ask Santa to bring you for Christmas?” Mike asked, sidling up to her.

She thought for a moment. “I asked him for strength.”

“Strength? I think you got the wrong guy; you're supposed to ask Jesus for strength. Santa brings the swag.”

“Yeah, well, the strength I want can be wrapped in a package with a bow on top. I asked Santa for a chocolate-colored marble.” She shrugged. “But he never brings me what I want.”

“You must be a naughty girl, then.”

Sully felt his blood pressure rise. Mike was hitting on her. That asshat.

“Now
you're
confusing him with Jesus. Jesus is the one who cares about good and bad. Santa gives out presents based on how much your parents make; he has a way of leaving poor kids cheap crap, or skipping their houses altogether.”

Mike laughed. “Ain't that the truth.”

When the carton of vodka was empty, the troop broke up after a round of hugs, back slaps, and Merry Christmases.

On the way back to Sully's apartment they passed the complex's pathetic little playground—a couple of swings and a slide missing its ladder. Hunter made a beeline for one of the swings, swept the snow off it, and sat. Sully took the other.

Across the snow-covered lawn and Germond Road, McDonald's sat in darkness.

“Your friends are okay,” Hunter said. “You can always tell by how they treat the new kid.”

Sully chuckled. “They're not as welcoming when the new kid isn't scorching hot.”

“Shut up, Yonkers.” She said it like she was put out, but she was grinning.

It was one of those magical moments, sitting there in the dark with the snow falling on Christmas Eve. Sully felt an undeniable urge to lean over and kiss Hunter. But looking at her profile as she gazed off into the parking lot, he guessed being kissed was the last thing on Hunter's mind, that a kiss would dump a bucket of ice water on the moment.

I'm all business, no pleasure,
she'd said.

“You and Laurie had a thing?” Hunter asked.

Her words startled him. “What? How did you know?”

She grinned. “One of my superpowers.”

Christmas music drifted from a nearby apartment. “White Christmas.” It was muffled, the tune just recognizable.

“So show me where you found it,” Hunter said.

It.
No need to get more specific than that. Over the years Sully had shown so many people where he found
it,
including dozens of journalists.

He led her to the stream that ran between the apartments and the highway, to the overpass he and Donny had waded under during their bare-handed carp-catching contest.

“There it is. I'd show you the gap in the wall I stuck my hand through after a carp swam into it, but it's probably not a good night for wading.”

Hunter leaned out over the stream, trying to see into the dark tunnel. “Was that the first place you looked, after Holliday burned the Cherry Reds and the second wave appeared?”

Sully laughed. “You got me.”

She nodded. “It made sense that the new ones might be hidden in all the same places as the last batch.”

“There wouldn't have been much challenge in that, though.”

Ice had formed along the edges of the stream, but the black water in the center sluiced along, making a pleasant trickling sound.

Hunter's phone chimed, alerting her to an incoming text. She pulled out her phone, smiled. “It's from my Korean mom, wishing me a merry Christmas.” She typed a reply and sent it. “We'd better get back. Your mom's all alone on Christmas Eve.” There was a twinkle in Hunter's eye as she said it.

As they headed toward the apartments, Hunter said, “So it's just you and your mom? No relatives nearby who'll be knocking on the door tomorrow, bringing figgy pudding for Christmas dinner?”

“Nope. Just us. If we want figgy pudding we have to make it ourselves. Most of our relatives live around Pittsburgh. We went to Pittsburgh for Christmas a couple of times, but decided we'd rather celebrate by ourselves.”

“Bad relatives?”

Sully considered, trying to wrap his head around how to describe them. “They're not bad people, they're just…strange. If you met them, they'd be friendly, all grins and handshakes and small talk. But that's as far as you'd ever get with them. You'd never get to know them. They're obsessed with mysteries and produce. That's all they want to talk about.”

“You mean, like TV show mysteries?”

Sully nodded. “Sherlock Holmes. Those British shows on PBS where you can barely understand what anyone's saying. If they're not talking about Miss Marple, they're going on about where you can buy the freshest asparagus, how seedless watermelon isn't as good as regular.” Sully opened his mouth to ask about Hunter's relatives, then realized that might be a touchy subject. If she had any, they couldn't be worth much if they hadn't taken her in.

“You said most of your mom's family are in Puerto Rico?”

“That's right. I never met my father, so I don't really know his family, besides one aunt who isn't worth knowing.”

“Definitely no figgy pudding for you, then.”

Hunter giggled. “No figgy pudding. No nothing. My family is one big fat lump of coal. Unless you count my Korean mom.”

In the morning, Hunter came out wearing a green sweater, along with her gloves and combat boots. They got some coffee, then sat cross-legged on the floor and opened gifts. It was the first time in his life Sully wasn't the least bit interested in his own gifts. He couldn't wait to watch Hunter open her gloves.

Hunter gave his mom a big white knitted hat.

“It's called a slouchy,” Hunter said as his mom put it on. It sank onto her head like an accordion. “It's all the rage in my neighborhood.”

Mom took it off, examined it carefully. “It's gorgeous. It's handmade, isn't it?”

Hunter nodded. “I made it.”

“Wow,” Sully said. “Can I see it?” Mom passed it over and Sully admired it, shaking his head. “That's beautiful. I didn't know you could crochet.”

“Yarn's a whole lot cheaper than hats and sweaters.”

Sully's mom got him a big hardcover book on spheres that he didn't have. There was a separate page on each color.