I shrugged. “I make you uncomfortable.”
“No, you don’t,” she lied, tugging her robe tighter around her body.
I raised an eyebrow and she blushed a deep red.
“Honestly, you don’t have to leave,” she said. “I just forgot that the living room is your bedroom at night. I should have knocked or something.”
“I don’t think I would have answered.”
Her face was so red now, I couldn’t help wondering how far her blush went.
“Let’s just forget about it,” she mumbled, turning away and sticking her head in the fridge. “Do you want waffles?”
“No, thanks. I’m going to go now.”
She whipped around, a look of distress on her face.
“You don’t have to go! I said you don’t, and I meant it.”
“Hey, no! I’d like to stay until . . .” Until what? “A bit longer. I just meant I’m going to see if I can earn some money.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Doing what?”
I frowned at her. “I can do a lot of things. I can bartend, retail work, construction . . .”
She rested her hand on my arm. “I meant, because you don’t have ID, a visa.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “There’s always someone who’ll pay cash in hand. You worry too much, Laney. I’ll see you later.”
“Wait!” she called after me, fiddling around in her purse. “This is my address if you get lost, and take this.”
She held out a twenty-dollar bill.
“I can’t keep taking your money,” I said sharply.
She sighed, stepping forward and tucking it into the front pocket of my jeans.
“It’s yours. I know you put all the emergency money in my purse. You need lunch money and a bus fare. Please, just take it. I’d feel a lot better.”
“Saving me again, Laney?” I whispered as I walked out the door.
It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. After the fifth construction site asked to see my union card, I was close to giving up. I didn’t even like construction work.
But as I was walking away, a guy in a hardhat jerked his head at me, showing that he wanted to talk.
I followed him until we were out of sight of the foreman.
“Russian? Polish?”
I shook my head. “Slovenian.”
“You have any experience?”
“Yeah, I can do carpentry, plasterboarding, painting, brick-laying, basic plumbing.”
“Yeah, yeah, good. Go to the building site at West Washburne and South Racine—it’s in University Village. Ask for Viktor.”
“Thanks, man!”
“Tell him he owes Bruno twenty bucks as a finder’s fee.”
I nodded, memorized the address, and set off again.
The site was an older building that had been a school and was being turned into apartments. I was given a hardhat and a sledgehammer, told not to drop it on my sneakers because there would be no comp, then pointed toward some selective demolition.
It was boring, tiring and dirty. Clouds of dust rose up from demolished plasterboard, although the other men called it Sheetrock. The dust got in my eyes, my nose, my hair and my clothes. But it felt good to do something that used my muscles. I’d stiffened up after days of sitting and driving. My ribs still hurt from where Oleg had used his fists and the skin on my back burned, but it was better than sitting in Laney’s apartment, letting her spend more money on me.
As I swung the sledgehammer, I wondered if Gary and Yveta were okay. I hoped that they hadn’t gotten into trouble because of me. There was no reason why they should: it was Laney that Sergei’s men would be looking for. I frowned at the thought.
I wished I had a way of contacting my friends, but it would be too dangerous—for them and me.
I swung the sledgehammer, feeling the tug in lazy muscles, and imagined it was Oleg’s ugly face. I imagined his teeth splintering and flying into the air with his blood.
I swung the sledgehammer and imagined it was Sergei that I was turning into dust, like the fucking vampire he was, sucking the life out of everyone around him.
“Dude! Take it easy!”
I lowered the sledgehammer to the ground, breathing hard, and glanced around to see three men watching me with startled expressions.
“That’s some serious aggression you’re working out there, man,” said a short guy with muscles like a bodybuilder.
“Just hoping to get rehired tomorrow,” I said, which wasn’t a total lie.
He raised his eyebrows, told me it was lunch break, and they walked off.
Five hours later, my eyebrows white from drywall dust, my face gray, I headed back to Laney’s. I looked like shit and my muscles were screaming, but I had fifty dollars in my pocket and I felt like a king.
When Laney buzzed me up and opened the apartment’s front door, her mouth fell open.
“What happened? You look like you’ve been rolling in flour!”
“Got a job. Just as a laborer, but they want me back tomorrow.”
I pulled out the money and tucked it into her jeans pocket, just like she’d done with me this morning.
Laney laughed and pretended to slap my shoulder as I danced out of the way.