Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Read between the lines
Child play
5 ReviewsBefore he knew it he was left alone with three pair of slightly worried gazes set on him.
Chapter 7) Child play
.-.-.
Through the years he grew a habit of placing his left hand down on the table, spreading his fingers and jabbing a pen, scissor, knife or any type of other sharp object between the open spaces. It calmed him down, made it able to focus. Concentration on the fast well coordinated movements eased him down, forgetting his problems for a moment.
Tap, tap, tap nothing else just the rhythmic movement of the pen jabbing a few millimeters away from his flesh.
He never stabbed himself.
A hurried yet modest knock on his new bedroom door made him break out of his trance and instead of jabbing his pen into the wooden table top he quickly scribbled something down in his new notebook, giving a pathetic impression of doing some actual schoolwork.
The head of new foster mom Karen peeked in a little nervous. “Hi Frank, what are you doing?” She said after a pause and invited herself in, it was her own home of course. Still, Frank didn’t like the fact that someone could simply waltz into his space, his personal space.
“Homework.” He said obvious and pointed at a few books.
“That’s great…” Karin clearly came in his room for a little more than just checking if he was still alive. Another few seconds of hesitation passed before Karen cut to the case. “Um, Frank could you maybe watch the kids for a while? A good friend of mine just called, she’s going through a rough divorce and she isn’t feeling very well. She only lives a few blocks away, it’s just… Danny can be a little clumsy and I don’t want to leave the girls unsupervised too long.” She could have given him a dozen more excuses to put him in charge and go and have a life herself. Instead of letting her stutter he nodded quick and said: “Sure.”
Together with a lot of thank you he got a few million tiny rules and possible food allergies. Quietly making a mental note not to give Mari and Mel (see he remembered their names!) any form of nuts, just in case. It would be death penalty if either of the sweethearts died while he was the big boss around.
Before he knew it he was left alone with three pair of slightly worried gazes set on him. The girls had just finished an afternoon snack and silently got up to places their plates on the kitchen sink. The youngest was barely finished with his fruit and kept observing him while swinging his feet underneath the table. Suddenly the little boy sat up, shifted his glasses straight against his forehead and folded his hands.
“F-F-Frank, are you l-like C-C-Christopher?” Danny said with a straight face. “He d-d-doesn’t like f-f-fake kids.”
So apparently he wasn’t the only one Chrissy-boy held a grudge against. “You mean us foster fucks?”
“G-g-guess.”
“I’m a foster fuck too, I don’t have a reason to dislike you guys. Well, besides Chrissy, he’s a piece of shit.” He added more to himself then to the little kid.
“D-d-dogshit!” Danny cried out and giggled like only young kids can.
A sideway smirked crept upon his face and he sat down across Danny. “Bet he smells like dogshit too. dog breath, my bets.” And he waved with his hand in front of his mouth. The little boy giggled harder and mimicked his movements. A little too enthusiastic, knocking his mug off the table. The luckily plastic mug clattered on the floor and the last bit of milk spilled.
Two enlarged eyes stared up at him from behind thick glasses, with his hands clapped against his mouth Danny stuttered: “S-s-sorry!”
Frank automatically reached down the table and picked up the mug. “Don’t worry about it.” Please don’t. “Any idea where I can find a cloth in this place?”
He didn’t have to say more, the kid jumped up from his seat and hovered into the kitchen where either Mari or Mel scolded at him for running inside the house.
Frank rubbed through his stringy hair, the edgy feeling started to return. Either he was going to smoke a cigarette or he was going to light something on fire. To be honest, his first option seemed best and hell he could make it a little fun trip. There was a little playground not far away, he’d seen it when he was driving back from school. The weather was way too nice to be stuck inside a house for the rest of the day.
And kids should be playing outside and not being stuck inside a house all day long. He remembered vary of moments from his early youth how he’d envied all the kids he saw from far above. Playing and joking around while he was stuck on a third floored balcony, waiting and wishing his mom would come back home.
“Hey, let’s go outside. Let’s make a trip to the playground, what do you guys say?” Frank offered leaning on the woodwork of the doorframe.
Mari shyly took the hand of her sister and said while chewing on her knuckle: “We can’t go outside without a parent.”
“So?” Frank said. “I’m sixteen, that’s ancient! Plus the mom-figure left me in charge, I’m going out. If you guys wanna have fun all by yourself, that’s fine with me.” He was a total bluff, but it seemed to be working. A deep frown appeared on Mari’s face and her sister stared from her to Frank troubled.
“I wanna g-g-go outside!” Danny stumbled enthusiastic, clapping his hands together and hopping around. “C-c-can I b-bring my b-b-bike t-too?”
“Yeah, sure knock yourself out.” Frank said, happy that at least one of the kids was on his side. One of the unwritten rules of foster care, it’s best for the fucks to stick together. Safety in numbers and it’s good to know someone has your back, although there is always a great risk that one of your buddies will rat you out. Shit happens.
Mari hummed. “Okay then, but just the playground right? Not further!”
“Just the playground, pinky promise!” Frank said reassuring, holding up his right pinky. “Let’s go, put you’re jacket on just in case it gets cold. Don’t want you guys to catch a cold.”
“Karen won’t like that.” Mari agreed thoughtful and slowly pulled her sister along to the corridor. While the kids putted on their jackets Frank checked his pockets for money and cigarettes. Snatching a paper from the cabin he asked: “Any of you have a decent handwriting?”
“No.” Mari snored obvious.
“N-no.” Danny said, not that surprising.
“Thought so.” Frank muttered more to himself then to the kids. He pushed the piece of paper away and got up. “Everyone wearing their jackets?”
.-.-.
He watched the kid ride his little red bike and kept an eye on the two girls playing ‘bakery’ in the sandbox together. He felt a bit of a misfit, as a little fucked up teenage boy sitting between moms who where happily chatting about their perfect little angels. Most of the moms must notice too because his three-seat bench still remained two empty spots. Maybe he could change his attitude slightly by, for example, minimizing the blasting sounds of his headphone. Pulling down his hood would most defiantly give a better impression and not shooting everyone a fuck off gaze would be great either.
Luckily he wasn’t here to make friends or be chat-material with stay at home motherly moms. He was here to clear his head, sit in the sun and keep one eye open. Because in a perfect world where all people love each other equally and Santa really exists, parks would mainly be for happy little child play.
Too bad the world didn’t work that way and if you kept one eye open you could, most of the time, get what you wanted.
And what he wanted was pot and he knew pot-dealers. He knew how their doped up high head worked. They were too pussy to deal during the night, like the big-boys did with coke and meth. They were smart enough not to sell on the middle of the street, like only heroin addicts do. They mostly kept low profile and hung out on places minor fuck ups hung out. The skate-board venue, house parties and parks.
He pressed pause when he spotted a possible pothead scamper over the concrete path. It was funny to watch how the line of bench-warming moms gave each other a disapproving glance, while holding the youngest ones close against their chest. It made Frank smirk wry, helicopter moms don’t they know smothering your kid can kill them too? Inconspicuous he got up from the bench and calmly snuck after the supposable dealer. The guy must be around his age, which was good. He had fuzzy blond hair sticking out from under a grey beanie cap and that was about all Frank could see besides the guys hideous style of clothes. Seriously zip offs where so monsoon season. Not that he had much to show off with, with his jeans that only looked baggy because they where two sizes too big. Owh and his shirt started to look a little ratty too, he noticed now he fumbled with his sleeves brainstorming about what kind of tactic he should use on the guy.
“You’re new ‘ere man?” A raucous voice asked.
He nodded in response and stared at the pothead from head to toe. A weird ass, but that’s a trademark for a pot dealer. Is ‘dealer’ even the right word, because pot is just leaves and all nature and stuff? All herb and feel-good, well most of the time. Shouldn’t even be illegal in the first place, pot God’s herb right?
“I figure you sell?” He asked staring a bit grossed out at the guys septum piercing. Off all holes the guy wanted to get one through his nose. Not just in his nose, nop, through his nose. But whatever, guy should do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as he’d sell him some weed.
“I don’t sell to kids.” The bull-pierced pothead snored, clearly very entertained with his height. Or better said, lack of it.
“Dude, you’re my age don’t be shitting me. C’mon I wanna get high, I got money and I got Ritalin.”
The pothead seemed to get a little more interested. “You got Ritalin?”
“Almost.” He bluffed. “Right now I only got money, but money is just as good.” He stared up at the guy cold and serious now. “Wanna sell me or do you wanna wait till some lame ass cops come around, c’mon I got three kids to watch on the playground.”
“That’s fuck up man, seriously.” The guy muttered uneasy but dug his hand down his pocket. What a dipshit that’s about the worst place to hide your stash. “Twelve bucks.”
“Whatever.” He gave the guy a twenty, snatched the little plastic bag of weed and hid it in his package of cigarettes. That seemed the most harmless place at the time. He received the chance, quickly counted if the guy wasn’t trying to rip him off and walked off after a quick ‘later dude.’
‘Fuck yeah!’ Frank thought thrilled enough to rip someone’s head off. Pot! No fucking blowjob first, no jerking off, no plead or hickies. Just playing cool, waving with the dollar bills. Fuck yes! Maybe foster care wasn’t too bad now he was sixteen and could be self supportive. Fuck, he wanted to smoke some so fucking bad right now. Get all shitfaced, get all fucking happy in Forget About It land. Fuck and if he could just get his hands on some cheap Vodka or Tequila or fucking mouthwash, whatever as long as it had some percent of alcohol in it. And then he could get all fucking shitfaced and not give a shit about the world and just be fucking happy!
But he wasn’t that lucky, because he couldn’t leave three kids alone in the park for too long. He was the baby-sitter, the grown up and if he had any decency in his body he knew better then to even smoke near a kid. Think about it, sure, but he didn’t want to be the big bad bully.
So too bad for him, he was going to be the responsible grown up… jevy. The responsible foster fuck, just fucking great.
Scampering back as a moody little bitch he spotted the two little girls, still playing frantically with some plastic buckets and other colory plastic toys. Both probably hadn’t even noticed he went off to score some.
But he didn’t spot a red bike riding around the playground. ‘Owh fuck…’ A billion of worst case scenario’s shot through his head, including a few that involved a big red truck and a crushed pair of thick glasses. He was about to hyperventilate when he noticed three little whiny fucking brats taking down his stuttering fellow foster fuck. A mix of fury and loathing took over him and before he knew it he was swinging three shitty little brats away from a little red bike and a crying Danny.
“- B-broke m-m-m-my b-b-bike!” The kid stuttered heartbreaking while pointing at the slightly damaged frame. Two of the little shitfaces got away easy, but the third one (the biggest chubbiest brat that must be the leader, the fucking root of childhood evil) didn’t get away just yet.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” He spat at the little brat and shook him around by his shoulders. “Do you think it’s funny to take a piss at someone smaller then you? Well guess what you little shit, you took the wrong kid to mess with!”
The chubby brat was completely thunderstruck, couldn’t get out a word and finally settled with exploding into tears.
This unleashed the cougar of the mother from the chubby hell spawn and before Frank could turn around he felt a pair of manicured nails dig into his back.
“What do you think you’re doing with my son?!” The cougar (with matching fashionable hand-bag) cried out on the verge of hysteria and motherly instinct.
“Getting him to back the fuck off my kid! He smacked my kid off his bike!”
“- STOP TOUCHING MY SON!” Yes, mother cougar was now shaking Frank as much as he’d shook around with her precious little angel.
“- Stop touching me then!” Frank snapped, letting go of her chubby little brat as peace offer. “Fucking raise your kid if no-one else can do it without getting harassed…” Bitch didn’t even hear him, she was too worried about her dearly beloved son who simply got what he had coming. The mom made a complete scene about how her son had been mistreated while Frank picked the red bike up and dragged a sobbing Danny away from the crime scene.
“- Kay guys, grab your coats we’re going to get some ice-cream.” Frank muttered angrily as he pulled two sandy little girls out of the sand box. “Ice-cream! I said ice-cream. Ice-cream beats sand beyond words, c’mon let’s go!” ‘Before the cops arrive and they completely bust my ass. Fuck doing the right thing, fuck it!’
.-.-.
Licking on his strawberry-banana ice-cream with sprinkles he looked observantly to his new bigger, taller brother. Although sometimes people called him a retard (like that meanie from the park) he was pretty good at reading people. Like, sometimes people smiled at him but didn’t mean it. Those where smiles of you won’t understand anyway and cold smiles, bad smiles.
And sometimes people could look really mean, but were really nice. Quietly he observed Frank, his new big brother who he’d made a welcome painting for. He wondered Frank had hung it up in his bedroom, he hadn’t been brave enough to knock on Frank’s door and ask if he could come in.
Frank seemed nice, nicer then Christopher who never took him anywhere and mostly told him to back off, don’t touch my things freakazoid and ignored him a lot. Christopher didn’t like him, he still didn’t know why.
Frank looked a little bit scary, just a little bit. And a little silly, because his clothes seemed way too big and sometimes too small. But he looked cool too, cooler then Christopher. Because Frank had a ring through his nose and through his lip. That must have hurt lots.
“W-why did you g-get t-t-those?” Danny asked pointing at Frank’s piercings, stumbling over his words like he did a lot when he was around strangers. Frank was still a bit of a stranger although he was his big brother now.
Frank didn’t answer him right away and kept fumbling with the cap of his Coca Cola can. Subconsciously he touched his nose ring and smiled an unhappy smile. “Didn’t want to look pretty anymore.”
“W-Why? D-do you wanna b-b-be ugly?” He stammered. “N-nobody likes u-ugly people.” He added, nodding his head confirming.
“No, just couldn’t stand my pretty face.” Frank stared blankly at the grass field. Danny turned around on his plastic seat to see what it was Frank was staring at, but all he could see where a couple of dogs playing with a ball. A little worried he eyed back at Frank, who blinked a few times and smiled. A good smile this time, real one.
“So you like your ice-cream little man?”
“Y-yeah! K-Karen never lemmy have s-sprinkles! C-cause s-s-she s-s-s-sais it makes m-me h-h-hy… h-h-hy-“
“-Hyperactive?” Frank helped out.
“- Don’t do that dummy!” Mari interfered. “If Danny stutters you shouldn’t help him out, else he’s never going to speak and always stays dumb!” As she finished she stuck her tongue out at him, her twin silently giggled. He only glared at her and closed his mouth.
“You know sweet-cheeks that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Frank said to Mari. “Stuttering doesn’t make him dumb and as far as I can remember your sis isn’t much of a talker either.”
Mari could always look like such a princess if things didn’t go the way she wanted. “Mel doesn’t talk, just to me.” And that was true, although Mari lied a lot. Mel didn’t talk, just sometimes when it was quiet in the house and Karen and Christopher and Phillip weren’t around. Then Mel would whisper a little bit and talk to her stupid dolls and to Mari, but never to him. Mel was weird and Mari was mostly annoying. So he was extra super glad Frank had come to live with them, even if he looked a little scary.
.-.-.
Dusk had set in as he walked home with the kids, dragging along a damaged red bike. It could be fixed, frame was just scratched and the wheel had a few broken bars. He might even be able to fix it himself, if the dad would let him use tools and the garage.
Today had been an okay day. Kids seemed to be happy, the two girls where still thrilled of their trip to the park and skipped a few feet ahead. And Danny couldn’t keep his stuttering mouth shut, still worshipping him for taking that chubby little brat down. It would be nice if D-D-Danny could shut up for a minute though, so he could make a little plan on how and when to smoke his pot.
When they walked into their street Frank’s heart skipped a beat and he swore out loud, making both the girls turn around in shock.
‘Cops…’ Two god damn cops where standing on their porch talking to a frantic looking Karen. Two cops, and a police car, making notes and a crying mom. To add, he had a little plastic bag of illegal drugs in his pocket. And it was too late to turn around and make a run for it because Karen beat him to it. She ran towards them, spread her arms and pulled the two girls into a tight hug. Sobbing, holding them very close she muttered: my babies, my babies! Into Mari’s thick hair.
Frank exchanged gazes with Danny and dropped the bike on the sidewalk. If he was going to jail for whatever reason he wasn’t going to hold that piece of iron any longer.
Meanwhile the cops had approached. “Are these your kids’ ma’am?” One of them said, lowering his notebook.
“Yes, they are.” Karen said, getting up and pulling Danny against her. Frank sighed knowing he’d unleashed a cougar for the second time that day.
“Where have you been?!” Karen hissed, voice skipping a few tones. “I asked you to keep an eye on them, not to kidnap them! I was so worried…” Her voice broke at the end of that line and she hugged Danny who’s face beamed confusion.
“I…I took them to the park.” Frank stammered uneasy dodging glances from both cops and Karen. ‘You should have left a note stupid, Jesus you’re such a fucking idiot sometime!’ Staring at his shoes he tried to figure out in how much trouble he was right now. “Because of the nice weather.”
“Why didn’t you leave a note?!” Karen spat, as she was getting over her worry anger started to rise. “Why didn’t you?!”
Frank opened his mouth, only to close it again. No, he rather went to the police station to publically mark himself as a retard.
“-H-h-he did Karen, h-h-he did.” Danny quietly stuttered. Frank blinked and stared up at the little boy. Danny bit his lip and furrowed his brows as he continued. “H-he d-did. T’s m-my fault. H-he asked m-m-me to drop ‘t o-o-on the table. B-but I f-f-forgot. T’s not F-F-Frank fault, t’s m-mine.”
Frank played marble for a moment, mouth sinking back open as he realized Danny was taking the blame full credit. The little boy just lied out of a shithole of trouble.
“S-s-sorry F-F-Frank.” Danny said and gave a little nod as he clamped his hands around the thighs of Karen.
“No problem kiddo.” He muttered a little dazed and looked up at Karen. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll ask you first before I take them out for a little fun.”
“That’s alright.” Karen said with pale cheeks. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Thank you for taking them to the park.”
“’T w-was really n-n-nice!” Danny yelled top of his lungs. “F-F-Frank y-yelled a-at a real mean boy! A-and-“
“-Yes, Danny that’s wonderful. Just go inside so I can talk with these officers for a moment.” Karen quickly said and pushed the little boy towards the house. “Frank, can you please take them inside?”
“I don’t have to go to jail?” Frank said surprised. Moments ago he feared that he would be persecuted for kidnapping three minors and now he didn’t even had to go to the office at all?
“No, no of course not!” Karen gasped, pushing the two girls towards the house and away from their conversation. “This is all just one stupid mistake, owh Frank I’m so sorry for this!”
A little shaky and completely stunned he grabbed the steering wheel of the bike and started walking back to his new home. He bought pot while supervising three kids, got in a verbal fight with some motherly bitch and now walked away from two cops that so totally could have busted his ass. And that all because of some weird kid with thick glasses and a vocal handicap.
“Thanks man I totally own you one.” He whispered to Danny who gave him the biggest well-meant smile he’d seen in a long time.
.-.-.
Sorry I haven’t update in a long while. My life is all shitface at the moment so I don’t have a lot time and drive to type anything down. Be kind, leave something nice behind and make my day a little less crappy.
X Nuky
.-.-.
Through the years he grew a habit of placing his left hand down on the table, spreading his fingers and jabbing a pen, scissor, knife or any type of other sharp object between the open spaces. It calmed him down, made it able to focus. Concentration on the fast well coordinated movements eased him down, forgetting his problems for a moment.
Tap, tap, tap nothing else just the rhythmic movement of the pen jabbing a few millimeters away from his flesh.
He never stabbed himself.
A hurried yet modest knock on his new bedroom door made him break out of his trance and instead of jabbing his pen into the wooden table top he quickly scribbled something down in his new notebook, giving a pathetic impression of doing some actual schoolwork.
The head of new foster mom Karen peeked in a little nervous. “Hi Frank, what are you doing?” She said after a pause and invited herself in, it was her own home of course. Still, Frank didn’t like the fact that someone could simply waltz into his space, his personal space.
“Homework.” He said obvious and pointed at a few books.
“That’s great…” Karin clearly came in his room for a little more than just checking if he was still alive. Another few seconds of hesitation passed before Karen cut to the case. “Um, Frank could you maybe watch the kids for a while? A good friend of mine just called, she’s going through a rough divorce and she isn’t feeling very well. She only lives a few blocks away, it’s just… Danny can be a little clumsy and I don’t want to leave the girls unsupervised too long.” She could have given him a dozen more excuses to put him in charge and go and have a life herself. Instead of letting her stutter he nodded quick and said: “Sure.”
Together with a lot of thank you he got a few million tiny rules and possible food allergies. Quietly making a mental note not to give Mari and Mel (see he remembered their names!) any form of nuts, just in case. It would be death penalty if either of the sweethearts died while he was the big boss around.
Before he knew it he was left alone with three pair of slightly worried gazes set on him. The girls had just finished an afternoon snack and silently got up to places their plates on the kitchen sink. The youngest was barely finished with his fruit and kept observing him while swinging his feet underneath the table. Suddenly the little boy sat up, shifted his glasses straight against his forehead and folded his hands.
“F-F-Frank, are you l-like C-C-Christopher?” Danny said with a straight face. “He d-d-doesn’t like f-f-fake kids.”
So apparently he wasn’t the only one Chrissy-boy held a grudge against. “You mean us foster fucks?”
“G-g-guess.”
“I’m a foster fuck too, I don’t have a reason to dislike you guys. Well, besides Chrissy, he’s a piece of shit.” He added more to himself then to the little kid.
“D-d-dogshit!” Danny cried out and giggled like only young kids can.
A sideway smirked crept upon his face and he sat down across Danny. “Bet he smells like dogshit too. dog breath, my bets.” And he waved with his hand in front of his mouth. The little boy giggled harder and mimicked his movements. A little too enthusiastic, knocking his mug off the table. The luckily plastic mug clattered on the floor and the last bit of milk spilled.
Two enlarged eyes stared up at him from behind thick glasses, with his hands clapped against his mouth Danny stuttered: “S-s-sorry!”
Frank automatically reached down the table and picked up the mug. “Don’t worry about it.” Please don’t. “Any idea where I can find a cloth in this place?”
He didn’t have to say more, the kid jumped up from his seat and hovered into the kitchen where either Mari or Mel scolded at him for running inside the house.
Frank rubbed through his stringy hair, the edgy feeling started to return. Either he was going to smoke a cigarette or he was going to light something on fire. To be honest, his first option seemed best and hell he could make it a little fun trip. There was a little playground not far away, he’d seen it when he was driving back from school. The weather was way too nice to be stuck inside a house for the rest of the day.
And kids should be playing outside and not being stuck inside a house all day long. He remembered vary of moments from his early youth how he’d envied all the kids he saw from far above. Playing and joking around while he was stuck on a third floored balcony, waiting and wishing his mom would come back home.
“Hey, let’s go outside. Let’s make a trip to the playground, what do you guys say?” Frank offered leaning on the woodwork of the doorframe.
Mari shyly took the hand of her sister and said while chewing on her knuckle: “We can’t go outside without a parent.”
“So?” Frank said. “I’m sixteen, that’s ancient! Plus the mom-figure left me in charge, I’m going out. If you guys wanna have fun all by yourself, that’s fine with me.” He was a total bluff, but it seemed to be working. A deep frown appeared on Mari’s face and her sister stared from her to Frank troubled.
“I wanna g-g-go outside!” Danny stumbled enthusiastic, clapping his hands together and hopping around. “C-c-can I b-bring my b-b-bike t-too?”
“Yeah, sure knock yourself out.” Frank said, happy that at least one of the kids was on his side. One of the unwritten rules of foster care, it’s best for the fucks to stick together. Safety in numbers and it’s good to know someone has your back, although there is always a great risk that one of your buddies will rat you out. Shit happens.
Mari hummed. “Okay then, but just the playground right? Not further!”
“Just the playground, pinky promise!” Frank said reassuring, holding up his right pinky. “Let’s go, put you’re jacket on just in case it gets cold. Don’t want you guys to catch a cold.”
“Karen won’t like that.” Mari agreed thoughtful and slowly pulled her sister along to the corridor. While the kids putted on their jackets Frank checked his pockets for money and cigarettes. Snatching a paper from the cabin he asked: “Any of you have a decent handwriting?”
“No.” Mari snored obvious.
“N-no.” Danny said, not that surprising.
“Thought so.” Frank muttered more to himself then to the kids. He pushed the piece of paper away and got up. “Everyone wearing their jackets?”
.-.-.
He watched the kid ride his little red bike and kept an eye on the two girls playing ‘bakery’ in the sandbox together. He felt a bit of a misfit, as a little fucked up teenage boy sitting between moms who where happily chatting about their perfect little angels. Most of the moms must notice too because his three-seat bench still remained two empty spots. Maybe he could change his attitude slightly by, for example, minimizing the blasting sounds of his headphone. Pulling down his hood would most defiantly give a better impression and not shooting everyone a fuck off gaze would be great either.
Luckily he wasn’t here to make friends or be chat-material with stay at home motherly moms. He was here to clear his head, sit in the sun and keep one eye open. Because in a perfect world where all people love each other equally and Santa really exists, parks would mainly be for happy little child play.
Too bad the world didn’t work that way and if you kept one eye open you could, most of the time, get what you wanted.
And what he wanted was pot and he knew pot-dealers. He knew how their doped up high head worked. They were too pussy to deal during the night, like the big-boys did with coke and meth. They were smart enough not to sell on the middle of the street, like only heroin addicts do. They mostly kept low profile and hung out on places minor fuck ups hung out. The skate-board venue, house parties and parks.
He pressed pause when he spotted a possible pothead scamper over the concrete path. It was funny to watch how the line of bench-warming moms gave each other a disapproving glance, while holding the youngest ones close against their chest. It made Frank smirk wry, helicopter moms don’t they know smothering your kid can kill them too? Inconspicuous he got up from the bench and calmly snuck after the supposable dealer. The guy must be around his age, which was good. He had fuzzy blond hair sticking out from under a grey beanie cap and that was about all Frank could see besides the guys hideous style of clothes. Seriously zip offs where so monsoon season. Not that he had much to show off with, with his jeans that only looked baggy because they where two sizes too big. Owh and his shirt started to look a little ratty too, he noticed now he fumbled with his sleeves brainstorming about what kind of tactic he should use on the guy.
“You’re new ‘ere man?” A raucous voice asked.
He nodded in response and stared at the pothead from head to toe. A weird ass, but that’s a trademark for a pot dealer. Is ‘dealer’ even the right word, because pot is just leaves and all nature and stuff? All herb and feel-good, well most of the time. Shouldn’t even be illegal in the first place, pot God’s herb right?
“I figure you sell?” He asked staring a bit grossed out at the guys septum piercing. Off all holes the guy wanted to get one through his nose. Not just in his nose, nop, through his nose. But whatever, guy should do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as he’d sell him some weed.
“I don’t sell to kids.” The bull-pierced pothead snored, clearly very entertained with his height. Or better said, lack of it.
“Dude, you’re my age don’t be shitting me. C’mon I wanna get high, I got money and I got Ritalin.”
The pothead seemed to get a little more interested. “You got Ritalin?”
“Almost.” He bluffed. “Right now I only got money, but money is just as good.” He stared up at the guy cold and serious now. “Wanna sell me or do you wanna wait till some lame ass cops come around, c’mon I got three kids to watch on the playground.”
“That’s fuck up man, seriously.” The guy muttered uneasy but dug his hand down his pocket. What a dipshit that’s about the worst place to hide your stash. “Twelve bucks.”
“Whatever.” He gave the guy a twenty, snatched the little plastic bag of weed and hid it in his package of cigarettes. That seemed the most harmless place at the time. He received the chance, quickly counted if the guy wasn’t trying to rip him off and walked off after a quick ‘later dude.’
‘Fuck yeah!’ Frank thought thrilled enough to rip someone’s head off. Pot! No fucking blowjob first, no jerking off, no plead or hickies. Just playing cool, waving with the dollar bills. Fuck yes! Maybe foster care wasn’t too bad now he was sixteen and could be self supportive. Fuck, he wanted to smoke some so fucking bad right now. Get all shitfaced, get all fucking happy in Forget About It land. Fuck and if he could just get his hands on some cheap Vodka or Tequila or fucking mouthwash, whatever as long as it had some percent of alcohol in it. And then he could get all fucking shitfaced and not give a shit about the world and just be fucking happy!
But he wasn’t that lucky, because he couldn’t leave three kids alone in the park for too long. He was the baby-sitter, the grown up and if he had any decency in his body he knew better then to even smoke near a kid. Think about it, sure, but he didn’t want to be the big bad bully.
So too bad for him, he was going to be the responsible grown up… jevy. The responsible foster fuck, just fucking great.
Scampering back as a moody little bitch he spotted the two little girls, still playing frantically with some plastic buckets and other colory plastic toys. Both probably hadn’t even noticed he went off to score some.
But he didn’t spot a red bike riding around the playground. ‘Owh fuck…’ A billion of worst case scenario’s shot through his head, including a few that involved a big red truck and a crushed pair of thick glasses. He was about to hyperventilate when he noticed three little whiny fucking brats taking down his stuttering fellow foster fuck. A mix of fury and loathing took over him and before he knew it he was swinging three shitty little brats away from a little red bike and a crying Danny.
“- B-broke m-m-m-my b-b-bike!” The kid stuttered heartbreaking while pointing at the slightly damaged frame. Two of the little shitfaces got away easy, but the third one (the biggest chubbiest brat that must be the leader, the fucking root of childhood evil) didn’t get away just yet.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” He spat at the little brat and shook him around by his shoulders. “Do you think it’s funny to take a piss at someone smaller then you? Well guess what you little shit, you took the wrong kid to mess with!”
The chubby brat was completely thunderstruck, couldn’t get out a word and finally settled with exploding into tears.
This unleashed the cougar of the mother from the chubby hell spawn and before Frank could turn around he felt a pair of manicured nails dig into his back.
“What do you think you’re doing with my son?!” The cougar (with matching fashionable hand-bag) cried out on the verge of hysteria and motherly instinct.
“Getting him to back the fuck off my kid! He smacked my kid off his bike!”
“- STOP TOUCHING MY SON!” Yes, mother cougar was now shaking Frank as much as he’d shook around with her precious little angel.
“- Stop touching me then!” Frank snapped, letting go of her chubby little brat as peace offer. “Fucking raise your kid if no-one else can do it without getting harassed…” Bitch didn’t even hear him, she was too worried about her dearly beloved son who simply got what he had coming. The mom made a complete scene about how her son had been mistreated while Frank picked the red bike up and dragged a sobbing Danny away from the crime scene.
“- Kay guys, grab your coats we’re going to get some ice-cream.” Frank muttered angrily as he pulled two sandy little girls out of the sand box. “Ice-cream! I said ice-cream. Ice-cream beats sand beyond words, c’mon let’s go!” ‘Before the cops arrive and they completely bust my ass. Fuck doing the right thing, fuck it!’
.-.-.
Licking on his strawberry-banana ice-cream with sprinkles he looked observantly to his new bigger, taller brother. Although sometimes people called him a retard (like that meanie from the park) he was pretty good at reading people. Like, sometimes people smiled at him but didn’t mean it. Those where smiles of you won’t understand anyway and cold smiles, bad smiles.
And sometimes people could look really mean, but were really nice. Quietly he observed Frank, his new big brother who he’d made a welcome painting for. He wondered Frank had hung it up in his bedroom, he hadn’t been brave enough to knock on Frank’s door and ask if he could come in.
Frank seemed nice, nicer then Christopher who never took him anywhere and mostly told him to back off, don’t touch my things freakazoid and ignored him a lot. Christopher didn’t like him, he still didn’t know why.
Frank looked a little bit scary, just a little bit. And a little silly, because his clothes seemed way too big and sometimes too small. But he looked cool too, cooler then Christopher. Because Frank had a ring through his nose and through his lip. That must have hurt lots.
“W-why did you g-get t-t-those?” Danny asked pointing at Frank’s piercings, stumbling over his words like he did a lot when he was around strangers. Frank was still a bit of a stranger although he was his big brother now.
Frank didn’t answer him right away and kept fumbling with the cap of his Coca Cola can. Subconsciously he touched his nose ring and smiled an unhappy smile. “Didn’t want to look pretty anymore.”
“W-Why? D-do you wanna b-b-be ugly?” He stammered. “N-nobody likes u-ugly people.” He added, nodding his head confirming.
“No, just couldn’t stand my pretty face.” Frank stared blankly at the grass field. Danny turned around on his plastic seat to see what it was Frank was staring at, but all he could see where a couple of dogs playing with a ball. A little worried he eyed back at Frank, who blinked a few times and smiled. A good smile this time, real one.
“So you like your ice-cream little man?”
“Y-yeah! K-Karen never lemmy have s-sprinkles! C-cause s-s-she s-s-s-sais it makes m-me h-h-hy… h-h-hy-“
“-Hyperactive?” Frank helped out.
“- Don’t do that dummy!” Mari interfered. “If Danny stutters you shouldn’t help him out, else he’s never going to speak and always stays dumb!” As she finished she stuck her tongue out at him, her twin silently giggled. He only glared at her and closed his mouth.
“You know sweet-cheeks that’s not a very nice thing to say.” Frank said to Mari. “Stuttering doesn’t make him dumb and as far as I can remember your sis isn’t much of a talker either.”
Mari could always look like such a princess if things didn’t go the way she wanted. “Mel doesn’t talk, just to me.” And that was true, although Mari lied a lot. Mel didn’t talk, just sometimes when it was quiet in the house and Karen and Christopher and Phillip weren’t around. Then Mel would whisper a little bit and talk to her stupid dolls and to Mari, but never to him. Mel was weird and Mari was mostly annoying. So he was extra super glad Frank had come to live with them, even if he looked a little scary.
.-.-.
Dusk had set in as he walked home with the kids, dragging along a damaged red bike. It could be fixed, frame was just scratched and the wheel had a few broken bars. He might even be able to fix it himself, if the dad would let him use tools and the garage.
Today had been an okay day. Kids seemed to be happy, the two girls where still thrilled of their trip to the park and skipped a few feet ahead. And Danny couldn’t keep his stuttering mouth shut, still worshipping him for taking that chubby little brat down. It would be nice if D-D-Danny could shut up for a minute though, so he could make a little plan on how and when to smoke his pot.
When they walked into their street Frank’s heart skipped a beat and he swore out loud, making both the girls turn around in shock.
‘Cops…’ Two god damn cops where standing on their porch talking to a frantic looking Karen. Two cops, and a police car, making notes and a crying mom. To add, he had a little plastic bag of illegal drugs in his pocket. And it was too late to turn around and make a run for it because Karen beat him to it. She ran towards them, spread her arms and pulled the two girls into a tight hug. Sobbing, holding them very close she muttered: my babies, my babies! Into Mari’s thick hair.
Frank exchanged gazes with Danny and dropped the bike on the sidewalk. If he was going to jail for whatever reason he wasn’t going to hold that piece of iron any longer.
Meanwhile the cops had approached. “Are these your kids’ ma’am?” One of them said, lowering his notebook.
“Yes, they are.” Karen said, getting up and pulling Danny against her. Frank sighed knowing he’d unleashed a cougar for the second time that day.
“Where have you been?!” Karen hissed, voice skipping a few tones. “I asked you to keep an eye on them, not to kidnap them! I was so worried…” Her voice broke at the end of that line and she hugged Danny who’s face beamed confusion.
“I…I took them to the park.” Frank stammered uneasy dodging glances from both cops and Karen. ‘You should have left a note stupid, Jesus you’re such a fucking idiot sometime!’ Staring at his shoes he tried to figure out in how much trouble he was right now. “Because of the nice weather.”
“Why didn’t you leave a note?!” Karen spat, as she was getting over her worry anger started to rise. “Why didn’t you?!”
Frank opened his mouth, only to close it again. No, he rather went to the police station to publically mark himself as a retard.
“-H-h-he did Karen, h-h-he did.” Danny quietly stuttered. Frank blinked and stared up at the little boy. Danny bit his lip and furrowed his brows as he continued. “H-he d-did. T’s m-my fault. H-he asked m-m-me to drop ‘t o-o-on the table. B-but I f-f-forgot. T’s not F-F-Frank fault, t’s m-mine.”
Frank played marble for a moment, mouth sinking back open as he realized Danny was taking the blame full credit. The little boy just lied out of a shithole of trouble.
“S-s-sorry F-F-Frank.” Danny said and gave a little nod as he clamped his hands around the thighs of Karen.
“No problem kiddo.” He muttered a little dazed and looked up at Karen. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll ask you first before I take them out for a little fun.”
“That’s alright.” Karen said with pale cheeks. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Thank you for taking them to the park.”
“’T w-was really n-n-nice!” Danny yelled top of his lungs. “F-F-Frank y-yelled a-at a real mean boy! A-and-“
“-Yes, Danny that’s wonderful. Just go inside so I can talk with these officers for a moment.” Karen quickly said and pushed the little boy towards the house. “Frank, can you please take them inside?”
“I don’t have to go to jail?” Frank said surprised. Moments ago he feared that he would be persecuted for kidnapping three minors and now he didn’t even had to go to the office at all?
“No, no of course not!” Karen gasped, pushing the two girls towards the house and away from their conversation. “This is all just one stupid mistake, owh Frank I’m so sorry for this!”
A little shaky and completely stunned he grabbed the steering wheel of the bike and started walking back to his new home. He bought pot while supervising three kids, got in a verbal fight with some motherly bitch and now walked away from two cops that so totally could have busted his ass. And that all because of some weird kid with thick glasses and a vocal handicap.
“Thanks man I totally own you one.” He whispered to Danny who gave him the biggest well-meant smile he’d seen in a long time.
.-.-.
Sorry I haven’t update in a long while. My life is all shitface at the moment so I don’t have a lot time and drive to type anything down. Be kind, leave something nice behind and make my day a little less crappy.
X Nuky
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