Bowery Girl by Kim Taylor Page A

the flame, Mollie thought his skin would singe black. One side of his body lifted higher than the other, like a puppet on strings. The left side of his mouth was pulled in a grimace, revealing more blank space than teeth.
    â€œHail Mary,” he said to Mollie in that funny voice of his, half water and half wheeze. “Hail Mary full of grace.” He set a fire-hot hand on her forehead. “Good to see you, Mary Mary Quite Contrary.”
    â€œHey, Jip.”
    He removed his hand; the night seemed even colder than before. The rag mound sighed, as if the children sleeping there had let go of all their dreams at once. Mollie felt its heaviness and fear wrap around her. She knew what it was like; she understood the terror that kept them curled like dogs as far back into the rags as possible.
    â€œHail Mary got a penny for a pint?”
    She reached into her breast pocket and handed Jip a handful of coins. Then she pulled out a dollar bill, rolling it tight. She set it in Jip’s palm. His skin felt like paper, like autumn leaves. “Get some food for the kids in there, all right?”
    He shoved the money in a grubby pocket. Nodded once. “Hail Mary full of grace, how does your garden grow? With silver shells and cocks and belles and Jesus’ little toes.” He held his hands over the fire again. His red-lined eyes slid toward the street and then snapped back to stare in the popping flames. “Got an admirer, Mary.”
    Mollie turned around. Tommy McCormack leaned against the broken fence, smoking. The glow of the cigarette’s tip lit the blue in his eyes. She wanted, more than anything, to keep walking, to pretend she hadn’t seen him. Just keep walking until she came to Chambers Street. From there, she had her choice of alleys or cellars to sneak through. But the worst thing you could do with Tommy was to show fear. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked over to him. As if she knew he’d been following her all along.
    â€œGot a penny for a pint?” He expelled smoke from his lungs, like he was on fire from within. Then he dropped the cigarette, and slowly ground it out with the bottom of his shiny shoes. “Or how about twenty dollars, which I believe you promised me last week.”
    â€œIf I had it, I’d give it to you, wouldn’t I?”
    â€œI assume you’d give it to me, before you gave it to people like that. ” He smiled down at her, looking to all the world like a kind brother, concerned about her health.
    â€œI don’t got it right now. Give me another week. It’ll be easy now that Annabelle’s back, you know, now that she’s working again. We’re just a little tight right now.”
    â€œAnnabelle.” Tommy smiled. “Annabelle’s let me down a bit lately. A lot lately.”
    â€œIt’s slow.”
    â€œShe’s lazy.”
    Tommy stepped forward, then circled around Mollie until he had her pressed against the fence. He leaned into her, his cheek touching hers, and his breath blew against her ear. “Got a job for ya, Moll. You do it, we’ll call the debt even, all right?”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œChandler shop on Spring. You’re the only one small enough to fit through the one window that’s never shut. All you got to do is lift some keys from the watchman’s pocket and open the front door.”
    â€œAnd what if the watchman catches me?”
    â€œYou got a knife, don’t you?”
    â€œIt ain’t for that.”
    â€œHe won’t see you. I been watching him. Drinks until he sleeps. And your fingers are the lightest around.”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Tommy shoved his hand under her coat, into the pocket. “What’s this?”
    Mollie winced. The money from Black Jim and a couple other takes.
    His fingers caught up the bills. He licked his index finger and counted. “Seven dollars. I’ll take it as