Candace Robinson - Between the Quiet

Between the Quiet

Candace Robinson

C opyright 2021 by Candace Robinson

Cover Design by Candace Robinson

Edited by Meg Dailey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book may not be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.

For those who like the quiet

Chapter One

2001

H and. Invisible brick . Hand. Invisible brick. Slide hand, and twirl. Tuesday Collins pressed her hands against an invisible brick wall that she imagined was a bright, blazing yellow. Tilting her head at a young woman with red hair pulled into two braids, Tuesday lowered herself to a crouched position and felt around an illusioned box. The redhead arched a brow at Tuesday, paused, and scrambled on by. Tuesday sighed and slumped her shoulders in mock disappointment.

As a man with salt and pepper hair walked her way, Tuesdays fingers fumbled inside her black and white striped sleeves and plucked out a glittery pink orchid. She hopped off the step in front of the man and held the flower out to him.

The corners of the mans eyes wrinkled into a smile. No, thanks.

Tuesday gestured to her dark bowler hat resting on the ground, filled with mostly pennies.

Oh. He dug into his pocket and pulled out two crisp one-dollar bills, dropping them into her hat.

Thats what Im talking about. She gave the man a widening smile and a hasty bow in thanks. Behind her came the soft clinks of a few more coins being released into her hat.

Every Saturday, and most Sundays, Tuesday spent hours performing mime tricks right outside the edge of the subway at Grand Central Station. In the background, the subway swished on by, gathering passengers as bagpipes, a saxophone, and a violin were played. Other entertainers inside were breakdancing, painting portraits, doing anything they could to break out and get noticed.

All Tuesday wanted was to be the next great mime artist, like Marcel Marceau. However, she felt as though shed been born decades, or even centuries, too late. It was a mostly dead trade. But she didnt care, because this was the weekend, her weekend. And one day, she would get that Broadway play, or that film, or even join Cirque du Soleil.

The morning sun was already beating down on her heavily-painted face. Not breaking character, she pretended to pick up heavy boxes as she searched around the walking civilians, the leafless trees of autumn, the glass buildings. Her pantomime partner was nowhere to be found. Where the hell was Francis? Francis was always late for everything . She was late every Saturday. Hell, half the time Francis forgot the day was Saturday and didnt show up. It was as though she didnt take this as seriously as Tuesday, even though it had been Franciss idea to start coming out here on the weekends in the first place.

Tuesday bet it had to do with Franciss new boyfriend, or possibly an old one... She placed her hand in position, as if she were holding a glass, and chugged the invisible drink. As her head lowered back down, she wiped a gloved hand across her mouth and her heart stopped. Literally stopped. There was a microsecond in which she broke character, but no one noticed except for her.

Before her stood a boy, a boy she knew incredibly well, one from school. Maybe not know in a close friend sense, but he was Franciss cousin. Her very, very cute cousin. Becker Barber. Beck . Why was he here? His bleached hair hung right at his pitch-black brows. He wore a long-sleeved Guns N Roses shirt paired with tight black jeans and checkerboard Vans.

She wanted to topple over and die right there. Seriously, just vanish. But she kept miming, hoping he wouldnt notice that the mime was indeed her.

Tuesdays heart karate kicked her sternum, bringing her back to the present. Beck wouldnt recognize her. Not in her costume. Not with her face painted, beret, scarf, striped top, her skirt, the suspenders, black and white pantyhose, the boots, and her bob hair pulled back in braids. He barely gave her a nod when passing her at school, even though hed moved across the street at the beginning of the year. Shed known him since kindergarten but had only seen him at Franciss annual birthday partiesuntil this year.

Tuesday tapped her knees and shot up, realizing she probably looked like a damn monkey instead of a toy jack popping out of its box. She side-stepped and attempted to focus her gaze on any other passing faces. There were none. Of course there werent. Stupid in-between subway times .

Seriously, where is Francis?

Tuesday pulled a fake gold coin from her hidden skirt pocket and tossed it up and down in her gloved hand. Beck didnt move on. Instead, his dark brown eyes watched the coin. As it struck her palm, she held her hand upnow empty. Then she moved to her bowler hat and scooped up the gold coin before placing it back into her pocket. She turned around and breathed in a calming breath.

When she faced Beck again, he gave her a small smile and dipped his hand into his pocket. He pulled out two quarters, tossed them inside her hat, and strolled away.

She could finally relax again.

Then he glanced over his shoulder and said, Nice moves, Tuesday. He smiled again and walked toward the subway. Tell Francis I dropped the two quarters in the hat.

Tuesday cringed and stared up at the sky and nodded. She bet Francis had invited him here and told him they were desperate for people to stop by. So why didnt she show up? Tuesday was not going to break her silence while in character, even for a cute boy. But she did watch his toned body as he moved down the stone path toward the tunnel.

The day stayed chilly as Tuesday continued to work through her routine, moving with the music from a trumpet not too far in the distance. Winter was still a little over a month away, but shed need to add a jacket during her routine soon. At the end of the day, Tuesday had made thirty-four dollars, two condoms, a pack of bubblegum, and two dice. This was a win; sometimes shed come away with only a few coins and condoms. The collection there was growing.

Tuesday gathered her things, hopped into her Ford Focus, and prepared for the tedious drive back home.

T uesday turned down her street, flickers of red, yellow, and orange leaves from trees catching her attention. Most of the yards were scattered with leaves that needed to be rakedshed do her yard tomorrow with her brothers.

As she pulled into the driveway of the brick two-story home, she thought about Francis not showing up and decided shed try to call her as soon as she got inside. After she stepped out of the car, Tuesday kicked away a few leaves from the porch and entered the house. She found her mother and three younger brothers playing a game of Clue at the dining room table. Tuesdays dad was on a business trip to California for the next week with his law firm. This would mean lots of board games, movies, and her mom over-cleaning everything because she got bored when he was gone on these trips.