The Blue Kind

Looking like rain

“Hey.” “Hmmm. Mmmm,” I say and swat away Cory’s attempt to shake me awake. “You wanted me to wake you when I got up. So I’m trying to wake you, but I think you want to stay asleep,” Cory says. “Mmmm.” “I gotta do a bunch of stuff. I’ll be back around dark.” Sitting up but still asleep, I wrap my arms around him and pull him back down on the mat with me. “Stay stay stay,” I say. We lie together, and he curls up with me for a bit afterward , but then he wants to go. Once Cory is awake, he likes to get right up. Me, I could sleep all day. “I need money,” I say. “I know. And yes, there are mugs around for you and Ray to play with.” 28 T h e B l u e K i n d Later I wake up sweaty and with a headache; the attic smells like tar. I don’t know how Ray sleeps through this heat. Beside me is a line of little jars and boxes and a pack of currency. I grab the coins and go to the Easy Store down the street. Our neighborhood is deserted, but still there is an Easy Store close by. How is this possible? Are they everywhere , or are all the other empty buildings filled with mice like us? I buy the supplies that I need to clean myself and the attic. They barely make a dent in the big wad of currency. Cory must be doing pretty well. At home I pour the expensive powder into the expensive bucket, add water, and start scrubbing the floor like a woman possessed. Cory doesn’t intentionally ash on the floor, but the table is a disgrace; it’s just a stop sign on top of a box,and it tips over many times a day, along with all the bottles and ashtrays. I scrub on my hands and knees, getting rid of the sticky filth that coats the floor. When the whole surface is done except where Ray is sleeping, I wake him up, make him move. He goes to the long round hole in the wall and sits on the edge with his legs hanging out. There is a knock at the bottom of the stairs. My blood rushes to my head, preparing for the horror that anyone knocking will surely bring. “Hello?”It is a girl’s voice. I go to the stairs and look down. She is a broom of a girl, with wheat-colored hair down to her waist.We are both wearing long dresses. She has a round face and round blue eyes. I think we look like photo negatives of each other, except she looks pretty nervous and I bet I look pretty mad. “What?” I say, trying to keep my tone of voice steady, despite my adrenaline. “Oh,” she says.“Is Cory here?” 29 “No,” I say and take a step down the stairs toward her. “My name’s Dilly Dally.” She takes a step back with every step I go down. “I used to be called Cory, too, but then I changed it because it would be too confusing. Cory and Cory, see? Isn’t that funny?” “No, it’s not.” Her smile melts like snow and falls off her face. “Tell Cory I stopped by,” she says, her voice much lower and with less breath.Her friendly bit is over.Both our bodies are having an internal flight-or-fight debate. “No, I won’t tell him.” “Why?” Her hands are shaking. “Because this isn’t your place anymore, and you shouldn’t be here.” “Look,it’s got nothing to do with you,it’s just a chain thing. When you’re not here, he’s going to find somebody else.” She looks past me and smiles suddenly. “Hey, Ray, I’ll find you in the park later, okay?” She is all sunshine and roses now. I turn and look at Ray, who nods his head like a stupid child. She looks at me again.“Well, it was nice to meet you . . .” “Alison.” “Alison.” She leaves,and I hear her footsteps fading into the distance. “Who was that girl, Ray?” “I don’t know,” he says, not taking his eyes off the place where Dilly Dally stood. “Has she been around here before?” I am...