February 29

Chapter 7

"Ha! Boardwalk Avenue. That'll be fifty dollars."

Stacey glanced sideways at her dad and smiled deviously. He shuffled through his wad of artificially colored, patterned Monopoly money and pulled out a purple fifty. He handed it to her, laughing at the greedy look she gave.

Monopoly was their favorite game. Always had been, ever since she could remember. Stacey could recall playing Monopoly with her dad for hours on end when she was seven, and beating him for the first time when she was nine. That was definitely something, considering that her dad was an expert at business.

Stacey loved her father very much. They'd been close ever since she been able to formulate words. Ever since she started kindergarten and graduated to first grade. Ever since her mother had gotten fed up with her father's dream of owning his own business and his constant neglect of her, and left. Divorced. Left Stacey in her father's hands, without any money, any loans. Gotten remarried and had another daughter. Gabriella. Stacey didn't know if she liked her or not, but it was obvious that Gabriella didn't like the thought of having someone else share her mother's love. Eventually, Stacey had just drawn away and bonded with her dad instead. Her dad understood her so much more than her mom had.

Stacey picked up the white dice that they'd had to buy from the dollar store because they'd lost the other ones and shook them in her hand. The feeling of hard plastic bumping against her palms was reassuring, almost taking her mind off the turmoil of what was going on. Two people had come to the house earlier, wondering if they knew where their kids had gone. Stacey knew their kids, but had not seen them. She was almost brought to tears when the mother broke down, burying her head into the man's shoulder. And all the while, the black dot that stood over sun seemed to sneer at them, like some kind of eye. Another gust of wind later, and she and her father were back in the house, pulling out the game of Monopoly. More for comfort, she guessed, than enjoyment.

She opened her hand and let the dice fly. The pat-pat of the dice hitting the game board resonated in her ears. Eleven. She picked up her silver car and made it jump eleven pieces down the board. She landed on a red card, Illinois Avenue, with a red, almost bloody hotel on it. Her dad gave a smug smile.

"One thousand, one hundred dollars," he said, smiling toothily. He held out a hand. "Cough it up."

Stacey looked at her dad, defeated. The four five hundreds he'd given her a turn ago would have to be split. She went to the bank and made three five-hundreds and five one-hundreds. She placed the five hundreds in his hand as he slipped four one-hundreds into her stash of money. She frowned. The tawny-tan color of the hundreds did not fit into her rainbow ordered bills. She quickly reorganized it to her taste and smiled again.

"It's funny, isn't it?" her dad suddenly said, gloating over his pay. "How quickly money can go."

"I guess," she said. "You can either have it and spend it efficiently, or have it, spend it carelessly, and hope you don't get into any trouble."

She gave another sideways smile, her trademark. "This is the stuff that makes the world go 'round?"

"You bet," he said, concentrating as he rolled the dice. "You know what the secret to good business is? Why you always lose Monopoly?"

Stacey hmphfed. "You don't always win." She rolled her eyes.

"You're afraid of going bankrupt," he answered, a twinkle in his eye. "You land on property that is worthy of being bought, but you don't want to spend too much money, so you skip it."

"Yeah, so?" she asked distractedly. She cursed under he breath. His dog had landed right in between her green properties, on chance. He plucked a card.