Return of the Trickster Eden Robinson (sight word readers TXT) 📖

“The pharmacy got her medication wrong,” Hank whispered. “Do you mind watching her while I go straighten it out?”

“Okay,” Jared whispered back. “Phone whenever you want.”

“Thank you,” Hank said. “You’re a lifesaver, Jared.”

—

He used to watch Mr. Jaks when Mrs. Jaks needed a break. Mr. Jaks had late-stage dementia by then and most people were afraid to be alone with him. Jared liked their house, and both of them, and an afternoon puttering around with Mr. Jaks was an easy way to make twenty bucks. Plus, Mrs. Jaks fed him afterwards and they watched TV until it was time for Jared to go home. He helped in the garden, took their garbage out, drove them to Terrace to the farmers’ market in the summer. Normal things. His mom thought they were slaving him. At the time, Granny Nita wasn’t talking to them and Sophia was travelling a lot with her latest husband, exotic long-stays and cruises. His mom had been hustling pretty hard with Richie, so he was alone a lot. Then Sarah had showed up, and when she found out she could tap her magic when she was with Jared, things went a little haywire. Then the otters. And Georgina came into his life. Then Sarah almost died and he couldn’t deal with the craziness magic brought them and she didn’t want to stop, so he broke up with her and went sober.

Agnetha moaned in her sleep and he wished he knew how to lower her bed some more. He didn’t want to try to figure it out and make things worse. He always meant well, but that didn’t mean things would turn out.

—

When Hank came back, he took advantage of Jared being there to do the laundry, which took so long Jared nodded off. After midnight, Hank made up the couch for himself and said Neeka could drive Jared home, but she had her nieces with her and they’d been drinking. If he didn’t want to face that, he could call a taxi and Hank would give him some money.

“Either,” Jared said. “I just need to get to bed.”

Twenty minutes later, Neeka came upstairs to collect him. She and Hank kissed at the door, lots of tongue action, rocking together as if they were dancing. Jared studied his phone, mentally singing la la la so he wouldn’t hear their smacking.

“Ready?” Neeka finally asked.

He nodded.

She strode ahead of him and pushed the elevator button. She held the door open for him while she pecked away at her phone with the thumb of her other hand. It pinged and beeped with message alerts. Jared leaned against the elevator wall, willing it to hurry.

Outside, a girl with a shaved head wearing military boots and pink camo was vomiting into a planter. Neeka stopped near her, still texting. Camo Girl reeked of the yeasty, sour smell of cheap beer. Jared’s mouth watered. God, what he wouldn’t do right now for a drink. Once this is over, he thought.

“I told you to stay in the van,” Neeka said.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“I’m going to take your phone and run it over if you don’t get your ass back in the van.”

“That’s why no one likes you! You’re a heartless bitch! Everyone thinks you’re a bitch, Neeka.”

“You care too much about what humans think.”

“I’m sick and you don’t even care.”

“Get in the van.”

“Bitch. Don’t even care that I’m sick.”

“Take shotgun, Jared,” Neeka said. “Lala, sit beside your sister.”

“You don’t own me!” Lala said.

“But I own your phone,” Neeka said.

Lala stumbled towards an older, grey Dodge Caravan polka-dotted with rust. The middle side window was clear plastic duct-taped to the frame. Of all the vehicles for a revenge-driven otter in human form, a minivan was the very last one he would have guessed. Lala had trouble opening the door but swung at Neeka when she tried to help. Jared went around to the front passenger seat. It sagged slightly. Glittery pony stickers decorated the dashboard. A child’s booster seat was directly behind him. Another girl was passed out between the seats, her mass of curly, rainbow-coloured hair covering her face as she snored. They both reeked of party and a larger part of him than he wanted to admit was resentful that he was sober. If he still felt as though he had a future and wanted to keep sober for it, this would have been a hard moment, but now it was just something else that made him tired. He wanted his bed. Lala finally won her battle against the door and fell inside. When she’d crawled in far enough, Neeka closed the door behind her.

“All my friends are having fun and I’m stuck here with you,” Lala said. “Youuuuu.”

“Family is such a blessing,” Neeka said to Jared.

The minivan’s engine had a telltale rumble and it squealed as they pulled into traffic.

Lala muttered as they turned onto Clark and then off the main street, bumping through alleys and side streets. Neeka double-parked in front of the apartment entrance. They both studied the building.

“I should go up with you,” she said.

“I can walk a hundred feet by myself.”

“I’ll wait here. Wave to me from the living room window when you get in.”

“Seriously?”

“Fucking get out of the vaaaaaan!” Lala said.

“Good night, Baby Trickster.”

“Night, Neeka.”

He buzzed up. Mave answered, sleepy.

“We have to get you a key,” she said.

In the apartment, all the lights were off. The TV bathed the living room in flickering blue light. Sarah was asleep in the alcove. Jared went to the window and waved to Neeka, who gave a quick honk. Mave kissed him good night.

Otters are volatile, Wee’git thought, suddenly in Jared’s head. And they hold grudges forever. Once things settle down, put some space between you and them.

I don’t think you should be here, Jared said.

That wasn’t some random dream you had, Jared. There’s holes dug all over the compound. Someone moved the Tricksters. You know what that means, don’t you?

Wee’git, thank you. For helping me.