Punishment Magic

Chapter 3

When it was over I nodded approvingly and went straight to the car, leaving Greg to pay.
Once the car door closed I put on my seat belt on and brought my legs up to my chest. I wanted to cry from the embarrassment, but that would have to wait until I got home.
I rested my forehead against my knees and brought my arms up to my head, feeling the new soft hair that grew there. It felt nice to run my fingers through.
My sisters had been the first to find out, since we all shared a room. They’d all been jealous since they suffered through the same thick insulation of hair every summer. The only one who had trouble relating was Fairness, who had hair much thinner and lighter than our other three sisters.
Father didn’t find out until three years later at my graduation  where the girls were technically supposed to have their hair tucked up in their cap. I practically shuddered at the memory of his yells, telling me I made us look working class, even though everybody knew otherwise.
“Are you alright?” Craig asked.
I just nodded.
“Want to get take out?”
I did a steering wheel motion with my hands.
“Drive through?”
I nodded.
We got burgers and headed back to the house. He ended up eating most of mine since my stomach was still a bit to squeezy, but I dug into the cold French fries after he left for the day.
I spent the rest of the night flipping through magazines and trying to get myself to watch TV. I gave up at about 11 and waved goodnight to the house workers before making my way upstairs to shower and crawl into bed.
It took me a while to get comfortable, but it was a wasted effort. My twisting and turning was interrupted by a loud, distinct thump outside my window

~

I hid in my breakfast nook, smoking more than I usually would while the men filtered in and out. It was hard to find a good hiding spot in a house that big. In Tatum you had to be loaded to have two bedrooms because space was so limited. But that stupid house had square footage to spare.
I smoked to keep myself busy, lighting one with the butt of another, but I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
The girl was maybe 15 tops, with sandy hair and lips the color of ballerina slippers. When I saw her they were parted to match her eyes. Wide open. Her head lying on the grass, cocked awkwardly to the side.
There was no blood. I’d expected blood. It took me a minute before I buzzed for security because I kept expecting her to get up.
I just wanted her face out of my mind. But all I could think about was the blocky shape her limbs made.
It wasn’t the first dead body I’d seen, it wasn’t even the first person I’d seen who’d fallen off a building. Suicide by roof was a common method in Tatum, due to the sheer abundance of roofs. But when those happened it was on a bustling walkway full of bystanders, curious and not.
This time I was alone, just me and her. I couldn’t call for help, or cry, much less phone an ambulance. For a moment as my mind processed what it was looking at I felt helpless, I couldn’t help her.
And there was no one to keep me from looking at her. No one to shield my eyes and tell me to keep walking. And I never would have expected how hard it was to stop looking.
Greg ran into the kitchen and wrapped me in a hug before I could even put my cigarette down. I singed a hole in his thermal.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded against his chest.
He pulled back a bit, “Who was it?”
I shrugged.
“You didn’t know them?”
I shook my head.
I could tell we were both asking the same question, only he could say it out loud.
“Why the hell were they on your roof?”
It wasn’t a question that asked for an answer, just a spoken thought.
He stepped back as a man entered the room, but kept a protective hand on the small of my back.
“Can we ask you a few questions?” It sounded like something a cop would say, but security hadn’t called the police.
He’d said it politely, so I didn’t understand why Gregg’s response was so tense, “She’s deaf, but I can tell you anything you’d need to know.”
His answer was so quick, so confident, I almost believed what he’d said. I wanted to eye him for saying it like I required a babysitter, but I knew it wasn’t the right time.
“Greg,” the man started, but Greg cut him off with a raised hand.
“We can talk in the living room.” Greg offered.
They started walking, but as I went to follow Greg held me back.
I was confused, but before I could think of a way to protest he was gone.
I went back to chain smoking. There were no ambulances or cop cars parked on the lawn like what happened in books. In their place was a fleet of black cars that were nearly invisible with their lights turned off.
When Greg came back I jumped to my feet and hit my C shaped hand against my chest.
“I know, but this is a private matter.”
I raised my brows.
“The cops aren’t necessary, okay, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re alright.”
I touched my fingers to my for head and then put my three middle fingers down.
“Why am I glad you’re alright?”
I repeated the cops sign.
“There was technically no crime.”
I pointed my two fingers at my eyes and then pointed them away.
“I know she was watching you, but she was just kind of strange. But her death was accidental.”
I raised my brows again.
He put his hands on my shoulders and ducked his head so his eyes were level with mine, “Trust me, everything’s fine.”
Something felt wrong, but I didn’t know much about American policing systems. I guessed they were really different from Tatum.
“They’ve got everything cleaned up, so you can go back to bed now if you want.”
I just shook my head and snubbed the remnants of my cigarette out in the ash tray.
“You can stay at my place if that makes you feel better.”
Interesting, I’d never been to his apartment. But I also really didn’t want to stay in the house alone at that moment.
I shrugged and nodded.