Chapter Nine

New Orleans

The cigarettes had finally come.

It had been two weeks since Johnny had written home. There was also a letter, but he didn't care about it now, all he cared about was the cigarettes. He was sitting on the window sill, smoking. He was on his third cigarette, and he hadn't been smoking for very long.He had hidden the rest of the cigarettes under his mattress, he didn't want anyone to find them. He didn't want them to be taken away.

Johnny was writing another letter home, while he was smoking his fifth cigarette. Pretty much all he had done was thank them for the cigarettes, but that was all he could think of to write. Johnny decided that he'd better write the letter home when he was done smoking.

He was still sitting on the window sill; he had smoked half his pack of cigarettes. Johnny looked down into the street. There were some little kids riding their bikes, and some people were doing yard work. He could also see America and some of his friends. They had been walking around the block for almost an hour. Johnny wondered how they could stand being outside in the heat for so long. He had been forced to buy shorts. He thought that even though he looked stupid, he might be cooler when he went outside. He was wrong. He could hardly stand going to the mailbox and back. Tulsa had been hot too, but it wasn't so humid.

Besides having to buy clothes that he hated, America had also thrown away all of Johnny's hair grease. America had said that it was for his own good, but Johnny knew it was so he wouldn't make him look stupid. Without hair grease, his hair looked awful. It was fluffy and frizzy because of the humidity; he looked like Einstein. Then Ana had made him get his hair cut, so then he looked like Einstein with short hair. Johnny decided he would write that on his letter home. He sat down at the desk and started writing.

Hey guys,

Thank you so much for the cigarettes. I was about to die.

New Orleans isn't much better. I was practically forced to buy shorts, and my cousin threw my hair grease away. Then I had to get my hair cut. It's so hot and humid here. I can't even go outside it's so bad, but even if it wasn't so hot I wouldn't want to go outside anyway. I look stupid in shorts, and my hair looks awful.

I wish I could come home. I miss you guys.

-Johnny

After he sent the letter, Johnny was sitting on the window sill, smoking again. He knew that he shouldn't smoke so much. He was starting to feel sick, and he needed to save the cigarettes because he didn't know when he'd get more, but it felt good to smoke. At about 6:30, Ana knocked on Johnny's door. He quickly put out his cigarette.

"Yeah," he said.

She stuck her head in the room. "Dinner," she said. Then she closed the door.

Johnny went downstairs. Dinner started out Ok, but then it got bad. Ana's husband, Neil, stopped eating and looked up. He sniffed a few times.

"Cigarettes," he said. He pointed at America and then at Johnny. "One of you has been smoking. You know the policy. No smoking while you live in this house. After dinner, I'm searching both of your rooms."

Johnny didn't know what he would do. There was no way he could hide the cigarettes, he had ten packs of them. They were under the mattress, maybe Neil wouldn't look there.

After dinner, Johnny was sitting in his room while Neil looked through America's room. He hoped that he wouldn't find the cigarettes. But what if he did? He didn't want to think about what Neil would do. Would he beat him like his dad had? He hoped not.

Neil came into Johnny's room. "Couldn't find anything in America's room," he said.

Johnny's heart skipped a beat. Neil knew that he had them. Was he not even going to bother looking for the cigarettes? Would he just punish him right then?

"But maybe I was just imagining things," Neil said. "I'm looking through your room too."

Johnny stood in the middle of the room while Neil looked through all of his stuff. He couldn't find anything. Neil was starting to leave the room, but he turned back. He walked over to the bed.

No, Johnny thought as Neil lifted up the mattress. There were the packs of cigarettes, in plain sight. Neil turned to Johnny.

"Johnny," he said firmly.

He was scared. Neil was going to hit him, he knew it. He didn't want another beating, his dad had been beating him up all of his life, and he was tired of it.

"Please don't hit me," Johnny said softly. His voice was trembling. He had meant to sound tough, and he didn't mean to say please either. He was looking at his shoes, but he could feel Neil staring at him.

"I won't hit you," he said after a long pause. "But in the morning we're going to have a long talk about this. I'm going to give you tonight to think about what you've done."

Johnny nodded.

Neil took the packs of cigarettes and started leaving the room. "I'm going to throw these away," he said.

"No," Johnny said.

Neil turned around, "What?" he asked.

"You can't take them," Johnny said. "My friends sent them to me. I've been waiting two weeks for them and I was about to go crazy. I need them."

"Well, you'll have to get over it," Neil said as he left the room.

Johnny sat on his bed and cried. He wouldn't be able to make it without cigarettes. Maybe he could dig them out of the trash. They might still be Ok. He heard the door to his room open. He looked up and saw Ana standing in the doorway. She walked over to Johnny and sat next to him.

"You Ok?" She asked.

Johnny shook his head. "What'll he do to me?" he asked.

"Not much," Ana replied. "He'll just talk to you in a very firm voice. He won't hit you, I promise."

"The thing is that he hates cigarettes," Ana continued. "His father smoked them. One day his house caught on fire. He wasn't hurt, but it cost him a lot of money. He's convinced that his dad's house caught on fire because of a cigarette that wasn't put out all the way. I don't think that he would have minded as much, but his dad had to stay with us for several months while his house was being rebuilt. They don't get along."

"I need my cigarettes," Johnny said.

"I know," Ana replied. "I'll buy them for you. We'll figure something out."

Johnny was quiet.

"I know you hate it here," Ana said. "I want you to feel better."

He still didn't answer.

"Would you like me to stay for a while, or do you want to be alone?" Ana asked.

"I wanna be alone," Johnny said.

"Alright," Ana said. "And don't worry, Neil won't hurt you." She turned and left the room.

Johnny sat on his window sill. It had turned into his favorite place to sit. He was worried. Ana and Neil seemed like nice people, but what if they were just acting like that? What if Neil hit him? He wanted to go home. He wanted a cigarette.