sign in the window said CLOSED. Zoe cupped her hands and peered through the glass. As always, it was cave dark inside, and she really couldn’t see anything but the counter and the first few record bins by the door.
She banged on the glass with her knuckles. The door shook and rattled, warped and loose in its ancient wooden frame. After knocking for a minute or so, to her relief, Zoe saw Emmett coming from the back of the shop. He unlocked and opened the door, but only halfway.
“Yeah? What do you want?” Emmett asked.
“Hi. I’m here for my dad’s record,” said Zoe, still a little out of breath.
Emmett stared like he’d never seen her before. “What? Your father made a record? Was he in a band? What was it called?”
“No. My dad’s record. The one where his soul lives.”
“Hey,” said Emmett, “I don’t know what you’re on, but I don’t have time for this.” He started to close the door, but Zoe caught the edge and pushed her way inside. The two of them stood across the empty space by the front counter, just looking at each other. Zoe was breathing hard and Emmett stared at her blankly.
“Look, kid, if you know the name of the record you want, maybe I can find it for you. But I can’t stand here all day playing Name That Tune.”
“Emmett, it’s me,” said Zoe. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I found the back room with the soul records. You let me use the Animagraph.”
“I don’t know what the hell an ‘Animagraph’ is, and the soul records are against that wall under the Al Green poster.”
“Not those soul records, the ones in the back room that people can’t see.” Zoe turned to the back of the shop, to the room where the Animagraph and the special records were stored. The entrance wasn’t there. The dirty beaded curtain was gone. The wall was solid.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Did you change your mind about the price? Do you want something else? I brought what you asked for.” She reached into her pocket and retrieved the bloody tissues. She held them out to him.
Emmett took a step back, his eyes widening. “What the hell are you doing, kid? Are you crazy?”
“Emmett, please. I just want to take my father home.”
Emmett held up his hands, palms out, as if trying to hold Zoe off. “Listen, I don’t know if this is the crank or the acid talking, but I just run a shop. I buy and sell old junk that no one wants.”
“I know, and I want to buy something from you.”
“With that? I don’t think so.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Nothing from you, with your bloody Kleenex. I sell real merchandise to people who can pay for real. If someone can’t pay, I find someone else who can. And you, kid, can’t pay.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening here,” said Zoe miserably.
“That part I believe. Now it’s time for you to get out. I have a business to run.”
“Please don’t do this. I’ll give you whatever you want,” Zoe said. She pressed a hand to Emmett’s chest. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You don’t have anything I want,” he said, and pushed her away.
Emmett grabbed her by the upper arm so hard it made Zoe gasp. He pulled her to the front door, opened it, and shoved her through. Zoe stood in the gray alcove between the bright street and the enveloping darkness of Emmett’s shop. As he closed the door, she felt a tickle in her ear. It was as if some invisible presence were leaning over her to whisper a secret.
“I know you cheated me. That wasn’t your tooth,” said the phantom voice.
She turned, but Emmett was gone and the door was locked.
Zoe banged on the glass. She screamed and cursed at him. She kicked the door. There was no response, no help there. No way to fix things. There was nothing but ruins. Ruins that she’d made.
She started back to school, slowly and miserably. She wiped tears from her face and the snot from her nose with the underside of her sleeve, not caring how she looked or who saw her. Then she began to run. She ran by instinct, following the blind path away from Emmett’s as she always did, but now full of fury and reckless anger. She ran against red lights. The sounds of squealing brakes and drivers’ curses were a distant, meaningless noise in her ears. The world had collapsed into a narrow tunnel of pain and loss. All she could hear in her head was a single word pounding over and over again,
Zoe hadn’t run from her father’s funeral but now she wanted to run forever. To obliterate herself in motion. No past. No future. It was tempting. She could make it happen. All she had to do was cross against a red light and stop in the intersection. There wouldn’t be any squealing brakes. There wouldn’t be time. Just the thud of a car’s bumper into her side and then nothing. Nothing forever. How beautiful that would be.
It was two-thirty when she got back to the school. She was sweating and shaking. Going back to class wasn’t an option. She went around the building to Absynthe’s secret corner, curled up against the fire door, and closed her eyes. She tried to sleep, hoping she could find Valentine. She took off her rubber band and threw it under some half-dead bushes with the beer cans and cigarette butts.
An hour later, Zoe was startled by the sound of the final bell. This was followed by the thunder of feet as the first kids hit the doors and made it outside like they were going to win a prize for their speed. These sounds from the normal world shook Zoe out of her trance and she went in through a side entrance, walking against the flow of bodies. Inside her locker she found an old T-shirt and wiped the last of the sweat from her face. Then she gathered her books together and went out through the front entrance to wait.
Her mother drove up a few minutes later, honking twice as she pulled to the curb. Zoe got into the car and smiled at her mother automatically, but without meeting her eyes.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi yourself,” said her mother. “How was it being back in your classes?”
Zoe didn’t answer for a minute. “Same as always,” she said.
“Which means what?”
“The only teacher I have who isn’t an idiot is Mr. Danvers.”
“I don’t remember. What does he teach?”
“Biology.”
“What did he teach you today?”
Zoe had to think for a minute. What had Mr. Danvers talked about? She hadn’t been listening, but his talks always got through, even on bad days.
“Teeth,” she said finally. “For different species. Cow’s teeth for chewing grass. Lion teeth for ripping flesh. Snake’s teeth for injecting venom.”
“Did he say anything about our teeth?”
“We’re omnivores. We have a bunch of different teeth, but none of them are very good for fighting or killing.” Then she added quietly, “Which isn’t fair.”
Her mother nodded. “I know what you mean. The insurance company and all these job interviews the last few weeks, I’ve wanted to bite a few people myself.”
Zoe didn’t say anything. She just stared out the side window, watching the streets roll by.
“Aren’t you going to ask about my day?” Zoe’s mother asked.
“I’m sorry. How was your day?”
“Well, Maggie at the law office finally got the insurance company to admit that losing your father’s paperwork was their fault. That’s the first piece of good news from them.”
Zoe sighed. She imagined her father being packed away in a dusty box with other dusty boxes in Emmett’s back room. “They finally believe Dad existed. Good for them.”
“And there’s something else,” her mother went on. “I might have a job. It’s not a dream job. It’s just a junior designer position, but it’s with a cool clothing-design company called Kitty with a Whip. Have you heard of them?”
“Yeah. Lots of kids at school wear their stuff.”
