Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Cockroaches and rats didn’t pay rent, but they sure lived here. Sometimes Mama would say they had just as much right to be here as Cam since he didn’t pay any more rent than they did. So he knew about rat’s eyes, and the man blocking the way out had rat’s eyes. Black and cold, round and hard like the marbles Cam had lifted from Family Dollar on a dare. The first day Mama brought Ron MacKenzie home, it had been hot enough to turn on the fire hydrants outside, but Cam had been cold and shivered when this man walked through the door. Under those rat eyes, he was cold now.
“Your mama home?” Mac must have shoved most of the room’s air into the hall because when he closed that door, Cam couldn’t breathe.
“Uh, no. She’ll be home soon.”
“How you know she’ll be home soon?”
“She’s always home soon.” She fucked here. She smoked here. This was home. Where else would she be for very long?
He always thought if Mac ever had the chance, he would hurt him like he hurt Mama sometimes. Cam was scared this was his chance.
“Your mama’s a slob.” Mac picked up the Styrofoam cup off the coffee table, looking at the bite marks Cam had left around the rim before tossing it on the floor. “And a ho.”
Cam bit the inside of his cheek, sinking his teeth into the words he wanted to throw back at Mac. His mama might be a ho, but she kept this place kind of decent. When she wasn’t on that pipe or busy fucking customers, she wasn’t a slob. He felt like he should defend her just that little bit, but he’d seen rats gnaw through shoes. And he’d seen Mac beat Mama, so he kept quiet.
“You one of them pretty boys, huh?”
It wasn’t the first time Cam had heard that. In Barfield projects, the lines were drawn in black and brown, so anybody in between stood out. And he was definitely in between. Not black, not white, not brown, but some crazy swirl of all three that made him stand out like a sore, mixed-up thumb. He didn’t look like any of his friends. He used to get beat up all the time because people thought his curly hair made him softer than them, but Cam had fought more than one of Mama’s customers off. Losing a time or two had toughened him up quick. His outside might be pretty, but his inside already knew what ugly was all about.
Mac took the few steps separating him from the front door and the kitchen. Cam looked away from him, focused on pulling the crust off his sandwich. Even looking away, he still saw Mac. He was as big as the Hulk, but instead of being green, his skin was the color of pennies, red and brown at the same time. Even his hair was the color of red mud. It only made his eyes seem blacker. Even as dark as his eyes were, you could still make out the mean in them. Not that Cam needed to look into his eyes to know how cruel Mac was. The real cruelty wasn’t that he beat Mama if she didn’t bring in enough money lying down for customers. It was that when she did good, he gave her the drugs.
Mac stood right behind Cam, like a big red oak tree. Cam gripped the handle of the butter knife he’d used to spread the mayonnaise on his sandwich. Fear swelled up in his bladder, and Cam thought he might piss his pants. He ran the streets sometimes with the older boys. Painting bridges and alley walls with spray cans and sneaking into the skating rink. The older boys taught him useful things, and they had told him he should never be alone with Mac because he liked boys. Cam wished now he had asked questions because he didn’t really know what that meant, but he didn’t want to seem like a little kid. Right now, he knew that’s exactly what he was.
Mac startled him when he touched the hair hanging almost to his shoulders. He’d told Mama he needed a haircut, but she had waved her hand and said she’d get around to it. Now Mac’s thick fingers had something to grab him by. Cam tried to pull away, but Mac tugged until Cam’s back was pressed right to Mac’s front.
“You gonna be a good boy for me?” Mac’s words slithered into the quiet like a black snake. “You gonna make me proud?”
Cam bit his bottom lip, not sure what to say, so he just nodded his head in jerks.
“Good. Good.” Mac ran his fingers down Cam’s neck and inside his Ninja Turtles T-shirt, brushing over his chest.
Cam jerked away and crossed the few feet to the refrigerator, pressing his back to the door.