by Sera, Drew
I huddled myself together as best as I could, but my body fiercely ached. Yesterday’s fight over a bottle of soda had left me bruised and tonight’s fight over a pack of cigarettes had shaken me up. Yesterday I lifted the bottle of soda off of some stairs in an alley when a market worker went back inside the store. The same two older guys from tonight had followed me last night and wanted to fight for it. Outnumbered, I lost, of course.
But I had had enough fighting to last me a lifetime. I’ve had so much experience with fighting that it made me physically ill anymore. As a result from yesterday’s struggle, my ribs, stomach, and hands were black and blue on top of the injuries from tonight.
Thunder rumbled on above me, and the rain pummeled the streets. I wondered how long the storm would go on this evening. I’d have to try to find a dry place or some change for the laundromat for my drenched clothes. Right now, I was so cold that I shivered.
My stomach growled and ached. I thought the pain was from a combination of being hungry and hit with a pipe.
Each time a car drove by, it splashed water into the alley. Any minute now, one of the workers will open the door and toss out the food that didn’t sell during the day. He’d sweep the stairs and go back inside. Then I’d grab the food and get to eat.
The grated metal stairs that I sat under were providing less and less shelter from the rain. The rain was coming down in unrelenting sheets, and the cold water dripped off the edges of the stairs.
“Come on,” I mumbled under my breath. “Where’s the guy with the food?”
They always had food to toss out. I was getting tired of waiting in this rain, but my empty, aching stomach forced me to stay put. This was the only option I had for food today.
Over the rain, I heard a car approaching, and then a yellow Audi slowed as it moved past the alley, and its’ brake lights cast a bright red glow on the soaked pavement. I could tell that the car was parked in front of Van Doorn’s Bakery because the brake lights stayed constant.
“Come back tomorrow, they’re closed,” I mumbled.
I turned to look at the back door of the bakery and sighed. Maybe the guy was off work tonight.
A car door shutting made my head jerk in the direction of the street. I frowned and shook my head. That guy must not be very bright. It’s late and way past closing time. After his clothes are soaked, he’d learn they’re closed when the door doesn’t open. Dimwit.
I was squeezing the water out of my sleeve when the back door to the bakery burst open.
Finally!
I stayed still and waited to see the usual heavy-set man appear...only he didn’t. Instead, a man was shoved out of the bakery and fell to the ground into the puddles. Another man came out of the bakery and the guy on the ground held his hands up in the air.
“Dean...calm down. Can we talk about this?” the man on the ground begged.
“Talking? Now you want to talk?” The man referred to as “Dean” paced in front of the other. “Fine time to want to talk. You weren’t interested in talking when your job required it. Now look at the mess we’re in!” Dean shouted.
I held my hand over my aching stomach as it continued to protest. With all of the rain and thunder, I knew they couldn’t hear me. I squinted in the dim lighting of the alley to try to get a better look at the two, though I didn’t have much luck.
“You put our business at risk. You put our family at risk,” Dean continued.
Suddenly, Dean lunged at the man on the ground and grabbed his shirt and shook him.
“You put those boys in danger with the fucking stunt you pulled! What were you thinking that made you pull a gun out during those talks?”
“Dean, I meant no harm,” the man on the ground explained.
“No harm? You meant no harm? You killed our chance of gaining that client while you were strutting your stuff and showing your power off,” Dean snapped as he reached into his jacket.
Dean pulled out a gun and aimed it at the man on the ground. Oh, shit! I bit down on my lip and tried to stay perfectly still.
“Dean! I didn’t mean it!”
“You could have killed one of those boys! On top of which, you’ve tarnished the image of this family. You put the business and family at risk one too many times. You’ve become addicted to this shit! You’re a disgrace and can’t be trusted,” Dean barked.
Just then another man appeared in the doorway of the bakery as the gun went off.
“Dean!” the man in the doorway yelled.
I jumped up, making splashing noises with my feet. Both of the men turned and looked in my direction as a gun was aimed at the stairs. Dean had the gun in his hands.
God, please no! I’ll go back to the docks! Just get me out of this alley!
“Who’s there?” Dean called out over the pouring rain. “Thom, there’s someone over there,” Dean said urgently.
Move! They’re going to shoot you!
Dean and Thom walked closer to me and though I was scared shitless, I made my move and stepped out from under the stairs. With my arms and hands outward, away from my body they would be able to see that I posed no threat.
When Thom and Dean reached me, they both frowned when one of them pushed the soaked hood off my head.
“Holster that gun, Dean,” the other man hissed.
“He’s just a boy,” Dean said in relief as he put his gun back in his jacket.
Thom spent a lot of time looking me over. The longer they stood there, the more I worried about surviving the night.
“What’s your name?” Thom asked me.
My throat was so dry and I swallowed hard before speaking.
“Wes-ley,” I stuttered.
“What’s your last name, Wesley,” Dean questioned.
“Berlin.”
Thom and Dean looked at one another and spoke quietly about my last name. How could they be so calm right now?
“What does your family do?” Thom inquired. “I wondered if possibly we know them.”
I shook my head and looked down.
“I don’t have a family.”
“You’re not working for someone? Did someone send you here tonight?” Dean asked and then turned and gestured at the dead man on the ground. “Did he send you?”
Thom tried calming Dean when his voice got louder. I shook my head quickly before Dean lunged at me, backing me against the brick wall of the building.
“Did he send you to lurk in the shadows?” Dean yelled in my face.
“Dean, take it easy and let go of him.” Thom stepped closer and put his hand on my shoulder. “What are you doing here in the alley tonight, Wesley Berlin? It’s pouring rain.”
“Food...Food, sir,” I panted.
I found it difficult to get a deep breath after the fight earlier tonight and with my nerves shaken. I tried to continue to plead my case because I felt like my life was on the line.
“The night shift guy...I wait for him to bring the trash out...then I find food...and can eat.”
Shit, would they think of me as a thief?
“I’m not...s-stealing...it’s just b-being thrown out,” I urged.
“Calm down, Wesley Berlin,” Thom said and gave my shoulder a few pats. “Let’s go inside out of the rain and get you some food.”
Panic set in and I tried standing still and firmly in my spot. I’d probably end up dead if I went inside with them. Thom tightened his grip on my shoulder and shook me a little.
“Wesley,” Thom said my name, pulling my focus away from the dead body lying a few feet away. “Wesley, look at me. Come inside.”
I nodded and slowly put one foot in front of the other. I gazed down at the body that seeped blood, as we walked by it. Dean skipped every other step and flung the back door to the bakery open.
“Come on, Shadow. It’s warm inside,” Dean said as I crossed the threshold of the Van Doorn’s Bakery.
Shadow?
Thom guided me to a table and pulled out the chair for me. As I sat down, he sat in the s
eat next to me and told me to relax again. I sat still, unsure of what to do or say. Dean went behind the bakery counter and rummaged around.
“Wesley, how old are you?” Thom asked me.
“Fourteen.”
“How long have you been on your own?”
“About a year.”
“Where did you live before that?”
My mind flashed back to the Skagen Group Home for Boys where I lived. It wasn’t a home. It was a shelter at best. They had us working on the docks, and if we didn’t do our share, there was hell to pay...and I paid for it often. I wasn’t going back.
“A group home for boys,” I muttered and then looked Thom straight in the eye. “I’m never going back there.”
Thom narrowed his eyes at me but nodded.
“Take your jacket off, Wesley. It’s soaked, son.”
Son?
Son.
I froze with my gaze fixed on Thom. I wasn’t his “son.” I was nothing to him. That word meant something, yet nothing to me. I was no one’s “son.”
I reminded myself that I was in the company of two men; one of them just killed another man within the last hour. I would be wise to calm down. Soon, Dean appeared with a bowl of soup and a French baguette and set it in front of me.
“Eat, Shadow,” Dean insisted and went back behind the counter.
He returned with a glass of water. I started to pick the bowl up but remembered that I was seated at a table and not crouched behind a dumpster. Thom and Dean moved to another table close by while I ate. As I shoveled spoonfuls of soup into my mouth, their murmurs and whispers were faintly audible. I tried to make out pieces of what they said.
“You have lost your mind, Dean…I don’t even know where to begin.”
“It needed to be done.”
“I make those decisions, and the last time I checked, that was not how I decided to handle this.”
“He was getting pushy for power and control. You favored him too much. He knew it and was going to be a problem. He didn’t understand ranks or where he sat in line. I did what was best for the family.”
“Did you, Dean? Because right now, I’m not so sure.”
“Well, while you debate that with yourself, we need to handle what’s in the alley and the little Shadow.”
“We need to get rid of the car.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Dean replied.
When the food was gone, I sat awkwardly at the table. I glanced around the bakery and noticed it’s size. I suppose I hadn’t really known what to expect all this time I had been hanging out in the alley.
“While I heated the soup, I sent Armin a text and let him know what happened,” Dean whispered. “They’re on their way to remove him, Thom.”
Remove him?
Me?
Was I about to be removed?
Was this my last meal?
My body reacted, and I clumsily stood abruptly. I had to get out of here. Thom and Dean looked at me. Suddenly, the food that I had been so eager to eat now felt like a brick in my stomach.
“Sit down, Wesley,” Thom instructed and began whispering to Dean again.
I sat back down and began to sweat. I was going to die, I knew it. Nausea pushed my food up, and I was barely able to collect it in the napkin. That’s all it took for Thom and Dean to approach the table. I had pushed my chair away from the table and held the napkin over my mouth as Thom moved a chair closer to me while Dean retreated behind the counter. Thom reached out and put his hand on my back and rubbed on it though I tried shaking free of his touch.
“Relax, Wesley. No one is going to hurt you,” Thom reassured.
How could I trust that?
Dean returned and handed Thom a wet cloth and took my gross napkin away from me. I tried scooting my chair away when Thom moved closer to me. Thom opened the fabric to show me that nothing was hiding and that it was just a cloth.
“Wipe your face off, Wesley. No one will hurt you,” Thom repeated and handed me the cloth.
“Take it easy, Shadow,” Dean said calmly. “I think you probably ate too fast.”
And saw someone killed.
“When was the last time you had eaten?” Dean asked before pushing a glass of water towards me.
“Um,” I couldn’t think. “Last night.”
“Looks like you’ve been in a fight, Wesley,” Thom quietly added.
I nodded rapidly and held the wet cloth on my face. It felt so good, and I ended up holding the cloth over my eyes for a few moments.
“When did you have the fight?” Dean asked.
“Um, yesterday and tonight,” I answered.
“What over?” Dean asked again.
I shrugged. I didn’t want them to think I was a troublemaker.
“Stupid stuff; soda yesterday and a pack of cigarettes tonight.” I adjusted the wet cloth and held my palms against my eyes over the cloth.
“Are you hurt?” Thom inquired.
“No. I’m fine.”
“Do you know who we are, Wesley?” Thom asked as I pulled the cloth away from my face.
I looked from Thom to Dean, and then back at Thom. I nodded my head and leaned back in my chair.
“You do?” Dean asked.
“Well, kind of,” I admitted. “I heard the names ‘Thom’ and ‘Dean.’” I turned my head and looked toward the front door of the bakery. “Your names and a few others are on the placket outside the bakery. You guys own the bakery.”
Thom and Dean glanced at one another and both of them smiled and nodded.
“I like you, Shadow,” Dean laughed.
Dean reached across the table and offered his hand. As I carefully shook it, he said, “Dean Van Doorn. It’s a pleasure to meet you Wesley Berlin.”
“I’m Thomas Van Doorn, but you can call me Thom.”
I guzzled my water and then Thom began talking again.
“Would you like to come home with me, Wesley?” Thom asked. I just stared at him not knowing what to do or say. “I have a home on the edge of the city, and I have three boys. All of them are just a little older than you, but all still live at home with me.”
Was he serious?
“We’re a close family, Wesley,” Thom added.
“The streets aren’t any place for a fourteen-year-old, Shadow. You don’t want a life on the streets, trust me.”
Could I trust him? He just killed some guy in the alley.
“I don’t want to go back to the group home for boys. If you’re going to take me there, I’d rather try my chance on the street.”
I wasn’t going back to the docks. Ever.
Dean and Thom looked at one another, then back to me.
“We’re not taking you there, Wesley. I’m inviting you to come live with me and my boys. You’d be part of our family.”
Family.
Ever since I was little, I had longed for a family. I learned from some of the boys on the docks what it was like to be part of a family from their stories. A sense of belonging to a small group of people that would always have your back was very desirable to me. I was interested in what was being offered.
“I want to be part of a family. So, yes. I’d like to come with you.”
Thom and Dean smiled as they stood. Dean studied his cell phone and said Armin had arrived.
“Go take care of that. I’m going to head home with Wesley.” Thom looked at his watch. “I doubt Dr. Simon is up at this hour.”
Dean nodded and looked at me before saying, “He needs to be looked over. Keep an eye on him, Thom.”
I was fine.
“It’ll have to wait until morning. Are you going to stop by the house tonight after you’re done with Armin?” Thom looked at Dean until he nodded, then he returned his gaze to me. “Ready, Wesley?”
I stood and followed Thom to his car, dodging as much rain as possible. While I held my hands over the vents on the dash, Thom started the inquisition.
“How long had you lived in the group home?”
&nbs
p; “All of my life.”
“Did you know your biological parents?”
I was a throwaway.
“No, sir. They said I didn’t have any. I always lived in a group home.”
“No shame in that, Wesley. That’s not your fault.”
It wasn’t? I had always been reminded, just as the other boys had, that we were there because no one wanted us…which was our fault.
“Each of my boys work at the bakery. After we get you healthy again, you’ll be included in the work rotation. Will that be a problem for you?”
“No, sir. I don’t have a problem with work.”
God knows the labor-intensive work I handled at the docks outside and in the cold. I could handle the temperature-controlled bakery. I was curious about his boys.
“Are your boys all…”
Shit, how do I ask this without sounding too nosey?
“Are they all what, Wesley?”
“Are they all yours?” Thom frowned and looked over at me, his expression showed that he was confused by my question. “Are you their biological father?” I blurted.
“Yes, Wesley. Their mother died from complications after my youngest, Martin, was born.”
We drove through Amsterdam until the buildings became fewer and the blanket of darkness became more apparent. This was really the edge of town.
“Where was your group home at?”
Why did he want to know? Was he going to contact them?
“I’m just curious, Wesley.”
“By the docks.” I cringed when I said docks. “They had us work there and…” I started to feel sick as I thought back to their practices and ways of punishing us if we didn’t work hard or do as told. And their sick fight ring.
I focused on the sparse lights outside. Did he think I was weird?
“We’re almost there, Wesley. I’ll introduce you to the boys, and then you can take a shower. If you’re still hungry, I’ll get you something to eat. Tomorrow, I’m taking you to be looked at by a physician friend of mine. After you’re settled and recovered, I will also arrange for your schooling.”
“I’m okay. I probably don’t need to see a doctor. I wouldn’t want you to waste money.”
“Money isn’t an issue, Wesley. I want to ensure you’re healthy and if you have any injuries that you’re cared for.”
