Chapter One
Willow
Come on, I don’t have time for this right now!
Willow Royal is bent over her kitchen sink, staring down into the swirl of grey sludge that’s backed up in the drain. She grabs a black plunger and shoves it into the drain, pushing at the clog that’s formed. The dirty water sloshes back and forth, threatening to splash over the edge of the sink, but the clog is still stuck. And now, there’s a strange smell seeping from the bubbles that have popped from her attempt at clearing the drain.
“Ew, Mommy. It’s stinky in here.” Frank, Willow’s almost three-year-old son is standing in the doorway, fingers pinching his little upturned nose as he voices his disgust.
Willow drops the plunger and quickly wipes her hands on a towel before turning to Frank and hefting him up onto her hip. “I know, sweetie. Mommy’s trying to fix it. Would you like a snack?”
“Can I watch Paw Troll?”
“Paw Patrol? Sure, honey.”
Willow grabs a box of fish-shaped crackers and parks Frank in front of the television, setting him up with a DVD and snack. She looks at the top of his downy little head, bobbing in time to the theme music, and feels a pang of guilt at how little it takes to make him happy. And how little she can give him. The TV is second-hand—possibly even third-hand—from a thrift shop, and the DVD was bought at a local library sale. It skips in places, but Frank doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, most of their tiny apartment is furnished in thrift-store chic. Willow swallows past the lump forming in her throat. This isn’t the life she envisioned giving her child.
Sighing, she turns back to the kitchen. She has to get that sink fixed somehow. She can’t call the owner; she’s behind on rent right now and he’ll demand she pay up before he fixes the sink. If he ever does, that is. It’s not like she could pay anyhow, all her money has been going to pay Frank’s babysitter lately. Olivia has been demanding more and more money every week. It’s all she can do anymore to keep the sitter paid and Frank fed.
Willow pokes at the drain again with the plunger and lets out a small happy squeal as the water begins to drain. Her happy dance is cut short though, when she realizes that the sink is rapidly filling up again, this time on both sides. The gurgling grey water is bubbling out of both drains now, filling the kitchen with a fetid stink that makes Willow gag. She clamps a hand over her mouth and hurries to the window, cranking open the sash. It gets stuck halfway and no amount of pushing with open it completely. Willow is ready to cry when she sticks her face in the crack and draws in deep breaths of fresh air.
Kneeling on the peeling linoleum, her face pressed into the window sill and the drain still gurgling behind her, Willow finally lets her frustrated tears leak down her cheeks. She’s lost. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s alone in another strange city; the same situation she’s been in for the past three years, she’s broke, and she’s has no help. She’s been bouncing from state to state, trying to keep herself and her family safe from her past mistakes. Fear has kept her to herself all this time and now she has no one to help her out when she needs it most. Down to her last dollar and on the verge of being evicted, Willow is pretty sure she’s hit rock bottom. At least, she hopes she has, because if she has further to fall, she’s not sure she can survive the landing.
A little hand tugging at the back of her t-shirt pulls Willow out of her thoughts. She swipes at her cheeks with the backs of her hands and plasters on a smile before turning to Frank. Cracker crumbs dot his sweet lower lip and he’s holding the box in one hand. Upside-down. A school of orange fish trail across the kitchen and into the living room. Willow looks up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath, counting to ten before looking back down at her son.
“I thirsty,” he burbles.
“C’mon kiddo, let’s clean up this mess first,” she says to him.
***
Half an hour later, crackers swept up and juice drunk, Willow snuggles on the sofa with Frank. His head is hot and heavy, lazing on her shoulder as he stares bleary-eyed at his well-watched DVD. His mumbles the lines along with the cartoon characters and soon the mumbling stops, replaced by the low, even sounds of his sleepy breathing. Willow eases up off the sofa and carries him into the single bedroom, stepping softly toward his little bed set up in the corner of the room they share. She tucks him in, pulling a brightly colored blanket over his shoulders and pressing a kiss into his soft hair.
Back in the living room, she turns off the still-playing DVD and perches on the edge of the sofa, chewing at her lip. She stares around the room, trying to figure out if she has anything worth selling. Hiring a plumber seems to be the only way she’ll get her sink fixed and to do that she’s going to need money. Money she currently doesn’t have. A glance around the room doesn’t turn up anything worth very much. She briefly wonders if she can sell her blood. Or is it plasma? Hell, maybe she can sell her eggs.
A sound from the other side of the living room wall distracts her and she walks over, pressing her ear to the thin wall. It sounds like…sports. Her neighbor is up then. Willow doesn’t know anything about the guy except that he sleeps late and watches a lot of television. A lot. Willow tries to remember if she’s ever seen the guy before. She doesn’t think she has. He’s even more of hermit than she is. Come to think of it, she’s not even sure it’s a guy next door. It could be a gorilla for all she knows.
I wonder if it’s a sink-fixing gorilla. Wait. Could I ask him for help?
Willow heads back into the kitchen and peers into the sink again. It looks worse than it did before and the stench has definitely increased. Willow backs out of the kitchen, reluctant to poke the brewing beast in her sink again. She glances back at the shared apartment wall and chews on the inside of her cheek. She doesn’t know if Mr. Gorilla-next-door is handy or not but she doesn’t have much of a choice anymore. All he can do is say no.
Poking her head into the bedroom, Willow checks to make sure Frank is still sleeping before slipping quietly out the front door. Taking a deep breath, she knocks on the door next to hers and takes a step back, trying to look neighborly. No answer. Willow knocks again, a little louder this time, and leans forward, pressing her ear to the door. What the…? Did she seriously just hear the TV volume go up? She bangs this time, slamming the side of her fist onto the peeling wood door. She jumps back from the door when she hears heavy thumps hitting the floor and crossing to the door. Jesus, maybe he really is a gorilla.
The thumps stop at the door and she holds her breath, waiting on it to swing open. It doesn’t. She can hear someone shuffling around and sees shadows moving across the bottom but the door stays shut.
“Hey, I know you’re home,” she says to the door and raises her hand to knock again when suddenly, the door answers back.
“Leave, now!”