Momentum

Natalie lay on the cushioned earpiece of Trev’s bulky headphones for a while, glaring at the drawer ceiling. She’d cut out a scrap of tissue with her X-Acto knife to fashion herself a little halter top dress, not so much for modesty—she was quite comfortable in the buff—but for warmth in the dark, chilly drawer and, even more, for spite that her own clothes, as well as her brother’s favorite flannel that she was always stealing, had been stolen from her. She was losing energy and starting to feel like this was an impossible task. But she would not give up. Trev would return eventually and the imagined look of outrage on his stupid face upon finding the drawer vacated gave her the motivation she needed to push herself to feet. 

She tried to think of something from her Physics class that might be of use in this situation. The drawer was heavy, but it was also on wheeled tracks, so it wouldn’t be impossible to move if she could just push it with enough leverage to get it moving. Just an inch was all she needed. She needed something flat. A ruler. She’d seen a mini metal one in the same compartment as the X-Acto knife. 

She heaved it up off the ground, dragging it over to lean up against the divider wall. She squatted down, hauling it up to her shoulders, and lifted it up over the wall, stepping up onto other supplies to hurl it over to the other side. She repeated that over every divider wall to the very back of the drawer.

She looped a rope of string through the little hole at one end of the ruler, then pushed and shoved Trev’s headphones against the wall and climbed up the earpiece to the top of the headband, dragging up the ruler behind her. She wrapped the string around the top of the headphones a couple of times, then laid the ruler sideways, pivoting it around to insert through the crack between the drawer and the desk. After much jerking and wrenching and shimmying, she was able to twist the flat edge of the ruler through to the other side, where it dropped down, hanging by the string she’d secured to the headphones. She hopped down off the headphones and took the other end of the string, pulling the top edge of the ruler at an angle towards her. She heaved on the string with all her body weight, using the headphones for leverage. 

And, little by little, the drawer began to slide forward along its tracks, and light poured in from the other end. Natalie collapsed onto her back, panting and laughing a maniacal sort of victory laugh. 

She kicked off a piece of led from a mechanical pencil and jotted down a large-lettered message for Trev on his stack of post-it notes, in the form of haiku:

My dearest Trevor,

Fuck you, dick, I’m going home

With love, Natalie

She would have liked to sharpen the wound with little dicks and middle fingers, but she decided she’d better not waste any more time when the dick in question could return any moment. 

She unwound a couple of feet worth of string, securing one end to the drawer wall with a piece of tape she’d been very careful not to touch the sticky end of, lest she find herself adhered like a fly in a fly trap. Then she looped the string around her shoulder like Indiana fucking Jones and climbed back up the screws of the drawer wall.

She pulled herself up onto the edge and balanced on the rim of the drawer, looking out onto the vast landscape of Trev’s bedroom. The desk chair was pushed back a couple of feet from where he’d shoved it backwards when he jerked angrily to his feet. She lifted the string over her shoulder and tossed it over the ledge, letting it unravel to the floor. She clutched the string, giving it a tug to make sure it was secure, and took a deep breath, looking down at the hard wooden floor, as if looking over the ledge of a five-story building. But she was not afraid of heights. Since she was little, she was constantly, fearlessly climbing to the tops of trees and swing sets. She’d been climbing up and down the storm pipe from her bedroom window for years, and had never fallen, not once. She took a deep, determined breath, wrapped herself once into the string, and began the long climb down.

*                                                *                                                *

If any of the girls made the connection between Natalie and the dead woman in the other room, none of them showed the slightest hint of acknowledgement, or interest. They’d allowed her to join them with complete indifference and little more than a communal sniff of judgment at her Target brand attire. And so she sat slumped and bored in an armchair, her head propped up against her elbow as they rambled through a bunch of boring chatter about clothes and boys and rainbows and shit.

The one attempt she’d made to join the conversation was after Brittany had gone on and on about her pet hamster, leading up to a riveting announcement. “So, we took her to the vet,” she said dramatically. “And they told us…. Mitsy is going to have… babies!”

“Aweee!” the others squealed.

“I know! I’m so excited! You all have to come over when they're born and pick out which ones you want!”

“Ooh, I want one!” one girl wailed.

“Me too!” howled another.

“My friend’s hamster just had babies,” said Natalie. “It bit one of their heads off. It was nasty.”

The girls scowled around at her as if she was equally nasty.

“Ew,” said one of them. “Like, why would you say that?”

“I dunno,” Natalie grumbled, gesturing towards Brittany. “Thought she’d prolly wanna know that hamsters wig out and kill their babies if you start buggin’ ‘em and stuff.”

“Well,” said Brittany coldly. “Not my hamster.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Natalie indifferently, and the other girls went back to ignoring her. 

She slumped farther into her armchair, growing increasingly bored as they rambled on and on about potential hamster names, until Trev suddenly plopped down on top of her.

“Get off,” she snarled breathlessly, shoving him.

“Scootch over,” he said, shoving her to the side to squeeze into her armchair beside her. 

“Thought you were hanging out with your new boyfriends.”

Nick leaned against the arm of her chair with his arms crossed. “We don’t know anybody.”

“Yeah,” said Trev. “Plus the girl group looked more fun.” Natalie scoffed, while the girls all giggled. 

“Hi,” said Brittany. “I’m Brittany. Brittany Murphy.”

“Trev. Jordan.”

Natalie’s scowl broke into a snicker, elbowing him.

“So he’s your brother?” Brittany asked, suddenly finding her far more interesting. 

“Naw,” said Natalie, pinching his cheek. “He’s just a stray youth we picked up off the streets. We sponsor him. Tax reasons, you understand.”

Trev snickered. “And then, well…” He put his arm around her. “I married into the family. I know the girl usually takes the guy’s last name, but we said to heck with tradition, didn’t we, buttercup?”

The girls giggled again as Natalie whacked his arm off her shoulders and he flicked her ear and she punched his leg and all the while Brittany sized her up in much the way her brother had Trev.

Trev grinned his crooked grin. “So whatchu gals gabbin’ about?”

“I was just telling them about my hamster, Mitsy,” said Brittany, thrilled to have a fresh audience to dazzle with the announcement. “She’s going to have babies!”

“Oh cool,” said Trev, nodding. “You know hamsters eat their babies? Our friend Danno’s just had some and it bit one of their heads off; it was sick!”’

“Ewww!” the girls all squealed with glee. 

“Well,” said Brittany coyly. “You’ll have to come over when Mitsy has hers. I bet you ten dollars she’s just as sweet as can be with her little babies.”

“Oh yeah?” he grinned. “You’re on. Think you can handle another hamster massacre, Natty?” he added, seemingly under the impression she’d been included in the invite. “She almost puked her guts out when she saw Danno’s.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did!”

“No I didn’t! You were the one that couldn’t even look at it! I thought you were gonna faint like a little princess.”

Trev snickered. “You’re the one in the dress, milady,” he said, tousling her hair.

“Quit that!” she wailed, elbowing him in the gut and patting her hair to make sure he hadn’t messed up any of her cool twists and braids.

“Who’s the little princess, now?” he smirked, then turned back to Brittany. “Where do you live?”

“4897 Meadow Brook Lane.”

“Where’s that?”

The two talked back and forth for a bit, as the other girls chimed in, watching Trev with sheepish smiles. All the while Nick hovered next to Natalie, looking anxious.

Finally she grumbled, “What?” 

“I’m hungry…”

“Well, go get some food. It’s right over there.”

“Will you come with me?”

“Don’t be a baby.”

“Please?”

Natalie huffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She elbowed Trev to the side and stomped to her feet. 

“Where you going?” 

“To get some food.” 

“Be a peach and grab me something, won’t you, snickerdoodle?”

She sneered. “Get bent, husband dearest. C’mon.” She grabbed Nick’s hand and yanked him off towards the food.

Behind her back, Trev chuckled to the girls in a husbandly sort of way and said, “She’s a firecracker, that one.”

“I’ll get you something,” Brittany offered.

Trev grinned. “Oh yeah? Thanks, uh, who are you, again? Natty’s cousin or something?”

Natalie and Nick hovered around the fancy food table, surveying their options for chips or cookies or anything that looked remotely edible. Nick started to bite his fingernail and Natalie whacked his hand from his mouth. “Quit doing that, it’s so gross.”

“Natty?” he muttered. 

“What?” 

“Aren’t you sad?”

“No.”

Over in the corner, Bradley and his gang of boys rose from their table and passed by, snickering and laughing in their direction. Nick scowled after them.

“What was that?” Natalie asked, scowling after them in the exact same way.

“That kid was making fun of me, earlier.”

“What?” She whipped around at them as they filed out through the side exit door to the parking lot. “What for?”

“For Mom.”

“What! What the hell! Did you say something?”

“Yeah, I told him to get bent, but he wouldn’t shut up about it. And Trev said Dad would bury us in Mom's coffin with her if we beat up a bunch of kids at her funeral, so we went to find you, in case you were getting made fun of, too.”

Natalie stalked towards the exit door.

“Wait,” Nick muttered, grabbing her arm. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I wanna hear what this joker’s gotta say,” she said, shaking him off.

He grimaced around, looking for Trev, but he was still chatting with the girls, facing the other direction, so he groaned and hurried after Natalie as she smacked open the exit door. 

The scorching parking lot was scattered with adults—Frank and Auntie Rita among them—hovering around coolers in open car trunks, drinking beers and white wine in clear plastic cups like tailgaters at a football game. Natalie stormed around the side of the building with Nick on her heels, hunching his shoulders to avoid detection from the adults, to where the boys were standing around and laughing in the grass, out of sight of the parking lot. Natalie stalked right up to them and joined in their laughter.

“Um,” said Bradley, reeling back with one eyebrow raised. “Hi?”

“Hi,” said Natalie with a cold smile. “Fun funeral, am I right? Question. Which one of you dickheads was making fun of my little brother?”

“Awe,” said Bradley with a smirk, spotting Nick standing just behind her, looking over his shoulder to make sure Frank hadn’t noticed them leaving the building. “That's your little brother? That make you trash spawn, too?”

The boys laughed and Natalie honed in on Bradley, detecting him as the culprit.

“Dang, Brandon, you got me.”

“Um,” one of the other boys guffawed, as if speaking to a complete buffoon. “It’s Bradley.”

“What’d I say? Anyway, Brian, you do know how our mom died, right?”

“It’s Bradley,” Bradley sneered. “And yeah, I do. She was like, a drug addict or something.”

“Awe jeez,” said Natalie sympathetically. “You mean, your parents didn’t tell you? Sorry, forget I said anything. Let’s go, Nicky Boy.”

She turned to leave and the boys frowned around at each other.

“Whaddya mean?” one of them called after her. “What didn’t they tell us?”

“Gee,” said Natalie, scuffing her shoes in the grass. “I prolly shouldn’t say… your mommies must not wanna startle you.”

“Spit it out,” said Bradley.

“Yeah, tell us!” said the others.

“Okay, but don’t tell nobody I told you, see…” She peered around conspiratorially, then leaned forward to mutter, “She was murdered.”

Nick groaned in dread, smacking his face into his palms.

Bradley scowled, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Bullcrap.”

“It’s true, look it up. It was like a scene from a slasher movie, wasn’t it, Nick? Our neighbors in the apartment below had to put pots and pans out all over the place, ‘cause her blood kept dripping down from the ceiling.”

The boys eyed each other uncertainly, as if trying to gauge whether they, as a whole, believed this story.

“Natty, come on,” Nick muttered behind her, tugging her arm. “We’re gonna get in trouble.”

She rounded on him, wailing, “They have a right to know!” Then she sighed, patting his shoulder as he shook his head, pleadingly. “Don’t mind my brother, here, he’s gone quite mad. It took us ages to collect all her body parts; she was hacked up into all these little bits and pieces. But we never did find her head; that’s why…” She buried her face in her palms, letting out a loud sob. “That’s why we had to do a closed casket funeral! Our momma’s got no head!”

“Woah,” said one of the boys. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Natalie sniffed, wiping her tearless eyes. “They never caught the guy what done it, neither. They say it was the Slingshot Killer. They prolly don’t tell you fancy little rich boys about the Slingshot Killer, do they? They prolly don’t wanna give you nightmares.”

“Please,” said Bradley indignantly. “Everyone knows.”

The boys nodded their agreement and Natalie nodded along with them, covering her mouth to suppress a snicker. “So then you must know, the reason they call him Slingshot is that he always attends the funerals of his victims… and that’s where he picks out who he’s gonna slaughter next.”

The boys looked around at each other in varying degrees of alarm. 

“Are you serious?” one of them breathed.

“Yeah,” said Natalie. “So I’d keep my head down if I were you. And shut the hell up about my family! See ya!”

She turned to storm away, but Bradley frowned and said, “Hang on,” grabbing the back of her dress to yank her back. “You messing with us?”

“Why, Benjamin,” she said, giving him an incredulous look. “Shame on you, murder is no laughing matter. And, I mean, you said yourself, you know all about the Slapstick, I mean, Slingshot…” She smiled.

His jaw tightened and he grabbed the front of her dress, lifting her to her toes, closer to his face. “You think you're funny?”

“Hey!” Nick burst out suddenly, popping up in between them to shove back the bigger boy. “Leggoa my sister, dickhead!”

“Shut up, fag,” said Bradley, throwing him down into the grass and then Natalie was in his face, although he was nearly a head taller than she was.

“You just shove my little brother, dickface?”

Bradley smirked. “Yeah, so what if I did?” He smacked his palm against her forehead and she stumbled back a couple of steps. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

The other boys circled in and Nick jumped back to his feet with his fists up, snarling around, ready to take on all of them at once, while Natalie sneered, standing her ground. “The hell was that? You ever actually fight anyone before, pretty boy?”

His smirk withered. “What’d you just call me?”

The other boys let out a collective, “Ooh…”

Natalie smiled serenely. “I called you a pretty boy. And what a pretty little boy you are, too, with your pretty clothes and your oh so pretty blonde locks, you’re like a lil prince-ess.”

The boys snickered and Bradley shot a menacing glare around at them. He glowered down at Natalie, stepping right up against her, towering over her. “It’s a real shame your junkie mom didn’t teach you any manners,” he spat. “Someone outta.”

She grinned, unintimidated. For she had been in fights, plenty of them—you didn’t grow up in her neighborhood without getting in a tussle at least once a week. She’d been taught how to throw a punch by none other than Frank the Tank, himself—how to hold your fist with your thumb on the outside, how to let your opponent make the first move, then duck to the side and knock them over using their own momentum, how to use a bigger kid’s size against them—and, while it was safe to assume she and her brother were about to get their butts handed to them by the rest of the boys, she’d been in fights with Nick enough times to know he wouldn’t go down without taking out at least three others, while she beat the snot out this chode. “What’re ya gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

She waited for him to throw the first punch, ready to duck aside and pounce into action like an angry cat. But before anyone could make a move, the view of her target was suddenly obstructed by the back of Trev’s neck. “Hi, again,” he said brightly to Bradley. 

“Butt out,” Natalie snarled, trying to shove him out of the way. “I got this.”

“Yeah, move it, jerk,” Bradley spat. “I have unfinished business with your loudmouth little friend, here.”

Trev smirked, restraining Natalie behind his back. “Aha, you don’t know how fights work, do you, kid? You pick a fight with the littlest, but you always end up having to fight the biggest. It’s a crap system, I’m not happy about it either. Lucky for you I swore an oath to a certain Tank not to get in any trouble today, so I won’t be beating the crap outta you.”

“He hit Natty,” Nick snarled, glaring at Bradley.

“For real?” Trev scowled from Nick to Natalie, behind his back. “You let this dork hit you?”

“No,” she sneered. “I was about to kick his butt before you so rudely interrupted.”

He mimicked her sneer before turning back to Bradley. “What’s the matter with you, kid? I thought they taught fancy rich boys better manners than to hit a girl.”

“Oh shoot!” Bradley laughed. “That’s a girl?”

The other boys laughed, too, and Trev joined in with a tight jaw, his grip clenching around Natalie’s arms. “Wow, you guys are really freaking cool, ganging up on kids at their mom’s funeral. There’s a third around here if you wanna give him a wedgie or something.”

“I’m surprised there’s not more of ‘em,” said Bradley. “They are trash junkie kids.”

“Ouch,” said Natalie, her mocking glare just visible over Trev’s shoulder. “That really stings, coming from such a pretty princess as you, Brittany.”

Bradley’s grin sank into a scowl and he jammed his finger in her face, bellowing, “Shut up, you ugly little slut!”

Trev’s hand whipped up from Natalie’s arm to snatch Bradley’s extended finger. “The fuck did you just call her?”

Coldness seemed to descend upon the group and the other boys’ smiles melted. They looked nervously at Bradley, who’s confidence seemed to have wilted slightly as he tried to pull his finger from Trev’s clenched fist. “She started it.”

“Yeah? Did she?” Trev stepped right up into his face, slowly bending his finger backwards, and Bradley had to lift his gaze ever so slightly to keep eye-contact, confirming his initial trepidation that Trev was, indeed, the taller of the two. “And who you think is gonna finish it?”

But Bradley was once again rescued from an impending ass whooping by a squeal of “Bradley!” from his sister, standing at the corner of the church, surrounded by her flock of girls. “What are you doing!” 

Trev quickly released Bradley’s finger and he wrenched his hand protectively to his chest, then turned to shout at his sister, “Go away! This is no place for a bunch of girls!”

“I’m gonna tell Mom!" Brittany wailed. "Why are you out here picking fights with my friend?”

Bradley scowled and bellowed back, “Who?” He gestured towards the three of them. “This trash?”

Trev’s scowl split into a smirk. “Yep! Your sister’s having us all over for a hamster party! 4897 Meadow Brook Lane, right, Brad?”

“You gave them our address?” Bradley wailed incredulously at his sister.

“She sure did!” said Trev brightly. “See ya! Oh, and Brad,” he added quietly, giving his scowling cheek a couple of light slaps. “Be thankful I got here when I did, because if you had messed up a single hair from my best friend’s pretty braids, I would have ripped your pretty blonde hair from your scalp, one handful at a time, and made you eat it. Like spaghetti and fucking red sauce. C’mon.” He turned to stalk away, followed by Nick, who flipped them all a middle finger, but Natalie stood there for another moment, glaring at Bradley as he glared back at her. “Come on, stupid ass,” Trev snapped, reaching back to grab a fistful of her dress and yank her along behind him. “The service is starting, in case you forgot what we’re here for.”

*                                                *                                                *

Natalie slowly and carefully shimmied her way down the string, twisting and rocking from side to side beneath Trev’s desk. 

This was fine. This was nothing. Nothing more than the rope they’d all had to climb in gym class in seventh grade; all accept Trev, who’d stood rooted to the gymnasium floor with his arms crossed because there was no way he was going up that fucking thing. Natalie, meanwhile, had been the first one up, always eager to mock him with the one thing she could do that he couldn’t. And he’d watched with the rest of their class, staring up after her with the same agitated expression he always wore whenever she climbed up trees and swing sets and storm pipes. 

And when she reached the gym ceiling, she’d grinned down at him, staring back up at her with his arms crossed while the rest of their class cheered her on. She held his gaze as she let go with one hand, extending it out to the side. And the other kids laughed and cheered while Coach Tyson called, “Alright, Jordan! Quit messing around!” But Trev just stared up at her with a tight jaw and her grin widened and she hugged the rope between her knees and extended out her other arm and his eyes widened as he sucked in breath and she laughed out loud, swinging around with her arms out wide as the class cheered the Coach blew his whistle and bellowed, “JOR-DAN! GET DOWN!”

And only when she’d returned to the safety of the gym floor was Trev able to breathe properly again, panting to slow his rapid heart rate, glaring down at her as she grinned back up at him. And a minute later he had her pinned up under the bleachers as they sucked each other's faces off. 

He growled against her mouth, “I’ma get you back for that, you little shithead.”

And she sneered back, “You don’t scare me, Trevor Dalton, can’t even climb a rope.”

She plopped down from the string, landing on the hardwood floor with a groan of relief. She didn’t waste a moment to catch her breath as she took off into the massive terrain of Trev’s bedroom, expelling the memory from her mind of when he’d murmured into her ear, “Bet I can, Natalie Jordan. Bet I can scare the shit outta you,” and the way it had made her heart flutter, her toes curl.