How to Raise an Assassin

CHAPTER 12: ASHTON BECOMES MY SEEING EYE-PERSON

Don't get me wrong, I had nothing against my hair. It was wavy, brown, and beautiful. Had my family reputation not stigmatized my name, I probably would've had all the soccer boys at school after me instead of those pompous cheerleaders.

But I did not love my hair enough to blindfold myself in it for 24 hours.

Since my time period was a bit separated from the rest of the group, I caught the recent batch of initiates leaving while I was coming in with Ash by my side. They all left in pairs, one was blindfolded in the most itchy and uncomfortable material to have around one's eyes, and the other guided them like elderly people across the street. The people blindfolded seemed tired, had fresh wounds and cuts across their arms, and some limped like they took the expression "break a leg" sincerely in order to raise the money in 24 hours.

When I got in, Auntie was there and gave Ash some "sugar," or a hug that swallowed him into her sea of breasts. Meanwhile, I popped out the $5,000 my father gave me the night before.

Auntie studied me slightly impressed. "I should be amazed that you actually returned with the money. Few people actually do. Then again you do come from a rich family. This was probably a drop in the pool for you."

She had a point. The amount of people leaving the parlor today was definitely much smaller than the day before where boys scrambled to try and raise $5,000 in a single day. Those peeps didn't seem to be the GoFundMe type. If those injuries were any indication, many of them got their hands dirty. They probably even went about robbing rich folks.

And, of course, $5,000 was a drop in the pool for my family who lived on an estate the size of a university campus.

"Put the money in the Locusts Fund box there," Auntie pointed towards a shoebox with a hole carved on top large enough to slide multiple sets of bills inside. I went and deposited the money.

"Now, I'll leave you with Devin here who will walk you through the next steps," Auntie said. "I'll be back in half-an-hour."

Auntie left but made sure to remind Ash, "Make sure she doesn't try any funny business."

Ash turned to me and seemed to switch on his light-hearted mood. "Are you ready for some arts and crafts?"

Devin, a pretty big brown dude who looked like he hadn't missed a meal since he was born, approached me with a clear plastic bag of hair labeled "that white girl's hair."

I made the connection to the people leaving the parlor today, and I did not like where this was going.

Ash pointed to the hair, "Because today you're gonna make a blindfold out of your own hair!"

***

I sucked at arts and crafts, especially when it involved hair as the material to craft. Don't ask me how I did it. It involved a lot of stitching, glue, tape, and tears. Devin was of little help. Besides handing me my own bag of hair they kept and labeled, which by the way is totally not creepy at all, he stood there mumbling orders while absorbed in his smartphone.

Ash was a bit more helpful. He wasn't allowed to make the blindfold for me. Every time he tried to throw his hands in there to help me out Devin clicked his teeth like some creature from Alien.

At the end, my bandana looked like a wooly scarf that survived a lightning strike. That's when Auntie conveniently popped her head in to see if I was done with my masterpiece.

"The ritual portion is completed," she hummed in a song as she waltzed inside. "Now for the action. Ash, you'll be her guider."

Ash nodded and saluted like a soldier. "You can count on me Auntie."

Auntie smiled. "It's not whether I can count on you. It's whether she can."

Auntie turned towards me. I thought back to the recruits leaving earlier with people guiding them. What kind of Hell were they planning to put me through that they didn't even want me to see?

"24 hours. You must go that long wearing this blindfold. But, don't worry, you will have Ash to guide you around. You must go about your usual routine. If you have school, you go. If you usually eat with the family, you bring him along. He will be your guide for the next day. And you can only take off the blindfold when he has guided you back here."

So many bad scenarios crossed my mind. For starters, Ash was NOT going to guide me into any normal routine like dinner with my family (because he'll probably die), combat training (because he will die), or showering (because he will most definitely die).

I looked to Ash and wondered whether I should take my chances now to kill him and Auntie right here and escape with my life, because putting a blindfold over me was practically leaving myself open to an attack from enemies.

Then Ash dramatically went down on one knee and held out his fist like some ghetto knight. "I'm down to be your eyes throughout the night, or until your father kills me for spending the night at your place."

That was probable. Especially since I'll have to explain to my family why I was blindfolded with hair and being guided by some ashy black boy. They'd probably see it as a slave role reversal and not take too kindly to it.

"Of course, your situation would be most difficult," Auntie admitted. "Normally, family members will understand this part of the initiation since some have done it themselves. However, for you, I suggest you make up a lie. Tell them some of those white girls at school dared you to do this. Your family wouldn't harm a hair on them snobby rich kids."

As long as a contract wasn't put out on them by a richer, snobbier kid or their parents.

I really didn't like my chances. My only hope was that my father would understand and be on my side. He'll know this was a part of the Locust initiation for sure. The rest of my family would not. And as I said before, lying to my father was never an option. This will make the next 24 hours very interesting.

The only bright side was that we never had school on Fridays. Those days were used by middle-school students to do "volunteer work," which mostly meant helping our parents out with their job (which I already do too much of already so that was a fat no for me). For high school students, it was internship day where students got real world experience working one day a week. This saved me the embarrassment of having Ash parade me around with a blindfold the day after he humiliated me in dodgeball.

My trust for Ash wasn't at 100% yet. He could definitely be setting me up. Yet, his apology on the bus, the idea that he wanted to remain friends, it muddled my mistrust of him. As much as I wasn't comfortable with this, I sucked it up and braced for a day of blindness. "Ash, you better not get me killed."

I fist-bumped him and handed Ash my hairy blindfold. He leaped up and stood in front of me. "Let the last thing you see for the day be my extremely gorgeous face."

I don't know about "extremely gorgeous." But I guess if you sweep up the dust coating his face, add some lotion, and spray some cologne on the boy, he might pass for decent.

Too bad decent was the last thing I saw for the day.