Page 22 of Rake

God, what a dump. It might as well have wheels underneath it.

It’s another two-family house, painted yellow with a dilapidated chain-link fence lining what I imagine is a classy yard chock full of cement gnomes or something else God-awful. The house’s paint is peeling, and several of the windows are cracked and broken.

And is that plastic wrap on the inside of the windows? Depressing.

A teenage boy shovels the walkway. It’s easy to guess who he is.

Stepping out of my SUV, I avoid the worst piles of snow. The kid watches me. When he realizes I’m heading his way, he leans the shovel against a rusted railing that’s pulled out from the stairs. He’s going to be tall when he’s fully grown. Already he’s far outstripped his sister, though he’s not quite six feet yet.

He meets me at the sidewalk. “Can I help you?”

His voice is deep, which surprises me. He wears a silly knit hat with a pom-pom on the top.

“I think so,” I say, smiling my most charming smile. “Are you Sasha Saunders’ brother?”

His body stiffens. “Yes. Is she…” He almost can’t get the words out. He looks like he’s going to vomit.

“She’s hurt, but she’s okay,” I say. “Don’t worry—she just slipped. Nothing worse than that.”

He doesn’t need to know the truth. Sasha would prefer he be protected, I’m sure.

“She slipped?” The kid’s suspicious. I don’t blame him.

Smart, like his sister.

“Outside of my building. I live near her office. She asked me to check in with you because she knew you’d worry.”

“Why didn’t she just text me?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest. Good lord. The boy would fight me if he needed to. It’s adorable.

“Her phone broke when she fell. No offense but it wasn’t exactly sturdy to begin with.” I don’t know that for sure, but I bet anything she spends all of her money on him and barely any on herself.

“I told her to get a new phone.”

He looks guilty. Doesn’t like his sister protecting him. It makes me respect him a little more. Time to switch tactics.

“I thought I could talk to your father? She’s insisting on coming home for you even though she needs medical attention.”

“I can handle our father,” he snaps.

“Thank God,” I say. “Listen. Can I ask you something? Man to man?”

He nods.

Like taking candy from a baby.

“Something bad happened to your sister, right? She wouldn’t say what, but her ankle is busted and she still wants to skip the doctor.”

Busted is not a word I use often. But it helps to match the vernacular to your audience, and everything about this neighborhood is busted.

“Is it that bad?”

“She needs to be off her feet for a bit, but she insisted I drive her home because she wanted to protect you from your dad. And I told her that I have three sisters, and I’d be damned if I let any of them get hurt on my behalf. I thought you’d feel the same way. She said you were only a kid, but you don’t look like a kid to me.”

“I don’t need her to take care of me,” he snaps. “She almost fucking died. If I find out who hurt her, I swear to God I’ll kill them myself. I don’t care if I spend the rest of my life in jail.”

Charming. But embarrassing. I was so much savvier at seventeen.

“She won’t understand,” I say. “But she doesn’t need to. Like I said, I’ve got sisters too, and if anyone hurt them, I’d make them pay.”

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