Yoss smirked. “Sorry, I was too busy pretending to be He-Man and G.I. Joe.”
“We didn’t have a TV when I was little. Mom could never afford one. But when our neighbor, Mrs. Tyler, watched me, she would turn on cartoons. Watching Jem was the highlight of my week. I hated it when Mom would show up. She usually did before I could watch the end of the episode. It was like she timed it perfectly to mess up my day.” I chuckled a little uneasily. I hated talking about my mother. Even with Yoss.
Yoss, like always, picked up on my mood and leaned down to kiss my cheek, his arm going around my waist. “If I’m being honest, it sort of looks like someone’s dog got ahold of it.” Yoss looked down at the price tag and made a face. “This person is smoking crack if they think anyone will pay five bucks for this garbage.”
“It’s not in that bad of shape. You should have seen the one I used to play with,” I told him, putting it back on the table a little wistfully.
“Take it then,” Yoss said quietly under his breath, casting a quick look around. “Just tuck it under your sweatshirt. No one will notice. If it means that much to you, you should have it.”
I instantly tensed and for a second my hand hesitated over the doll, tempted to do just as Yoss suggested.
Why not? Who would know?
Stealing was a part of life when you had nothing and nowhere to go. Di stole cigarettes. Yoss stole food. Shane stole bags of gummy bears that he shared with everyone. Bug stole random stuff like lighters and packs of baseball cards. Things that had no real purpose except to make him feel as if he had something.
I didn’t steal. I couldn’t bring myself to take things that didn’t belong to me. Even when I was at my lowest, I didn’t have it in me to survive at all costs. I was lucky to have Yoss, because otherwise I knew I wouldn’t have lasted long out here.
I put the Kimber doll back on the table and shoved my hands in my pockets. “That’s okay. What would I do with a freaking doll?” I scoffed.
Yoss picked up the doll. “Why won’t you just take it if it makes you happy?”
I took the doll from his hand and put it back on the table. “Because I don’t need it, Yoss. Neither of us is in a position to have things only because we want them,” I said firmly, hating how sad he looked at my words.
He brushed a piece of hair off my face, his thumb caressing the curve of my cheek. “You’re seventeen years old, Imi. You’re too young to think like that.”
Neither of us said any more. I went back to looking through trinkets and Yoss wandered over to a table towards the back, sifting through piles of old comic books and Christmas decorations.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Yoss exclaimed a few minutes later.
I walked over to where he was standing by a table. He held his hand out. “Look at what I just found. I think this might be some kind of sign. What for, I don’t know. But seriously, this is amazing!” he enthused.
I took a peek at what had him so excited. It didn’t look like much. A tarnished silver chain with a red pendant made of chipped ceramic. Nothing that could warrant his reaction.
I gave him an amused look. “It just looks like a necklace to me.”
Yoss held it up, dangling it between his fingers. I noticed that the red charm was actually a strange looking figure with limbs askew in awkward positions. “I don’t get it. Sorry, Yoss.”
“It’s from the cover!” He grinned, wrapping his fingers around it in a tight fist.
“Huh?” I asked dumbly.
“Catch-22. Joseph Heller. Come on, I know you get it.” He spoke in rapid-fire sentences. He lifted my heavy curtain of hair up and laid it over my shoulder. Then he clasped the necklace that seemed to make him so excited around my neck. The red man fell below the hollow of my throat.
It wasn’t a particularly pretty piece of jewelry by any means.
“I know what Catch-22 is. It’s not like you’d let me forget it.” Yoss rolled his eyes. I touched the charm on the chain. It was scratched and a piece of the foot was missing. It had definitely seen better days. “Is this crazy little guy on the cover?” I asked.
He traced his finger along the curves of the red trinket lying on my chest. I shivered. I felt him everywhere, even though he wasn’t touching me. “I remember seeing the book in the library once. After Mom died. It was just a blue cover with this weird looking red guy at the bottom. My dad, who was in an unusually good mood, had pointed at it and told me that it had been my mother’s favorite book. That she was always quoting from it when they were dating. And when I was born she had insisted on naming me Yossarian, even though my dad wanted to name me something boring like George. Mom won, because Dad could never say no to her.” Yoss’s smile became pained. He cupped the side of my neck, his thumb still rubbing the chain.
“What a random find,” I mused, reaching behind my neck to take it off.
“Don’t. I’ll buy it for you,” he insisted, pulling money from his pocket.