“I ride in whatever car Sang’s riding in,” Luke said with a grin.
Mr. Blackbourne looked at Luke and then at Kota. “Will you take Mr. Taylor and Miss Sorenson downtown? Mr. Coleman wanted to work with a particular seamstress. I’ll text you the address.”
“We’ll meet you there,” Kota said.
Victor waved to me shortly. I waved back. Mr. Blackbourne had already turned toward his car. It was an odd parting. I’d be seeing them again soon, but after spending the afternoon together in such a nice place, it was like breaking the spell.
Kota drove and I sat in the front seat next to him. I secured my cup with the flower in the cup holder. Luke slumped in the back, staring out the window.
I stared out the window, too. The route Kota took was similar to how they got to Victor’s house, but then followed streets further into downtown, and into places I’d never been before.
Downtown Charleston on a Sunday early afternoon wasn’t particularly crowded. People meandered down the street, and cars moved slowly. I leaned forward, my face nearly pressed to the window, as I tried to glimpse up at buildings, check the signs and peek at the shops.
Luke nudged my arm, drawing my attention. “Look on this side,” he said, pointing toward Kota’s window.
I was trying, although avoiding touching Kota while he was driving.
Kota smirked and took his right hand off the wheel, resting his hand on the headrest of my seat. “Just like the first time I took you to the mall,” he said, with a laugh in his voice. “With your nose pressed to the window.”
My cheeks heated, but Luke started pointing. “See those buildings?”
I leaned against Kota to look. Kota stopped at a red light and leaned out of the way.
A street split and along the middle of it was an open air building. The start of it had outdoor vendors sitting outside with tables covered with baskets. People strolled along the sidewalks on either side, and then right through the center of the brick building. Some walked through the road, slowing down traffic.
“I like this place,” Luke said. “There’s some great candy shops along this way.”
I was going to reply when the light changed. Kota moved to take the wheel again. I sat back.
Once he was driving straight again, slowly making his way through the street, Kota moved his hand until his palm was covering my knee.
My heart fluttered, warmed by his touch. I looked back at Luke. Did he see?
He was staring right at Kota’s hand. My heart leapt into my throat. The others had always held my hand, or even had me in their laps in front of each other. I let it happen because I assumed it was okay. In that stretch of time it took for Luke to look up and meet my eyes, my heart tightened in my chest, ready to shatter if he looked disappointed or unhappy.
Instead, his eyes glowed, and he smiled in a strange way. I was confused, holding my breath. I was sure he’d change to a frown.
He never did. He winked at me.
It was almost as bad as him being upset with it. It was like he was telling me it was okay. Was it really?
“We should park and walk,” Luke said. “It’s not too cold out yet.”
“Looking for a spot,” Kota said. He kept his palm on my knee, until he had to turn. Once the turn was complete, his hand came back, reaching just above the knee this time, like he was more comfortable with touching me. “We’ll still be waiting for the others.”
I was quiet the whole time it took him to park along the street. I stared out the window. My focus was on his hand on my thigh, but I tried to notice the new surroundings. Kota’s touch felt reassuring. Maybe it had rattled him earlier when the boys were teasing me and he was trying to show me some quiet encouragement.
I followed the guys to the steps of a ritzy shopping center with brass doorknobs and freshly painted carved wood framing the archway. We stood together at the front of a doorway, waiting on the others to arrive.
I was staring off at people walking by, occasionally trying to peek into a window of the shops, but the glass was tinted. There were other stores further up and down the street, and across the street was the start of the outdoor market, with only a few people walking around. It was the weekend, but later in the day, and I suspected on a late Sunday afternoon, people were winding down to close early.
There was a poke at my arm, and I instinctively turned, thinking it was one of the boys.
A little face with big brown eyes looked up at me. He spoke quickly, “Ma’am, would you like to buy a grass rose? I made it. Ma’am, would you? Ma’am? Only three dollars.” He held up a rose made from what looked like thick grass leaves.
My mouth unhinged and I stared at him like he’d been talking in Greek. He had to be only seven or eight, with a small frame, but his face was so serious. He never stopped speaking, either. He pushed the grass rose at me, like trying to push it into my palm. When I took a step back, he stepped forward, thrusting his hand out and the rose toward me.
“I don’t...” I started to say.
He continued, “Come on, lady, it’s three dollars. I made this rose myself. You’ll love this. Just—”
There was movement and Luke was right behind me, his hand on my waist, his other hand he kept behind his back. “Don’t have any cash, kid,” he said. “Sorry.” He tugged me toward the shop. Kota had moved ahead, opening the door.
“Sir!” The boy cried as he followed us, holding out the rose. “She was about to buy it.”
“Get your little friends off the steps before the security guys get here,” Luke said. He didn’t let go of me, pushing me toward the doors until I was inside. The moment he stepped in behind me, Kota closed the door.
My heart was pounding in my chest. The way Kota and Luke had moved so quickly, if I didn’t know them any better, I would have thought them completely rude and abrupt to someone so young. “The kid...”
“He was pretty trained,” Kota said, coming up beside me. He nudged at the corner of his glasses. We were only standing just inside the door so I could see when the kid turned toward the steps, checking up and down the street. As far as I could tell, he was alone.
“Hustlers,” Luke said, then chuffed. “And his buddies were waiting.”
“What?” I asked. I scanned outside again, but I didn’t see anyone else. “Who?”
Luke turned, his brown eyes lighting up, much more amused now than a moment ago. “They target tourists. You pull your wallet out to pay him for the rose, and they figure out where your wallet is. Or maybe they accidentally bump into you while you’re paying and grab the wallet.”
“He’s not just selling things?” I asked. “I mean he’s pretty young to be on the street and...”
“His parents are nearby I bet,” he said. “He’s not alone. But did you see his bag?”
I hadn’t noticed, but when I checked back, the boy had a plastic grocery bag, it was almost empty except a small shape of what looked like more grass and one half made rose inside. “The stuff he was making them out of?”
“He only has one made,” he said. He scanned the street, searching the people. He slipped his arm around my neck and then pointed out, angling me to see off to the side. “See the mom over there?”
I checked. Over at the outdoor market, on the far edge of the entry way was two parallel tables set up with baskets all over. Luke was pointing to one of the women making baskets. While her partner at the opposite side of the table had her back to us, the one Luke pointed to kept looking up as her hands were busy making one of those grass baskets. Her focus settled on the kid, then to people in the street, then back down to her work, in that pattern, over and over.
“She probably made it,” Luke said. “But he’s only got one, so he’s not really trying to sell them, or he’d be there with dozens. He’s got just enough so it looks like he’s making them.”
“But how do you know they’re stealing?” I asked.
He checked, and then turned me by my shoulders to look the opposite way. He
pointed out. “Right there,” he said. He was pointing to two kids: one maybe fifteen, and a girl who looked to be twelve. They looked related with similar facial features. They were standing on the sidewalk next to one of the trash bins, watching.