Mean Little People

by Dearth, Paige

  “So let’s go down to the soup kitchen and get us some breakfast,” Erikson said, getting to his feet.

  As Tony walked with Erikson in the bitter cold, he could hear his own heart beating in his ears. The streets were ghostly silent. It was the sound of people home with their families—people somewhere being loved. Tony listened hard to the noiseless city that seemed to have died around him, and he felt alone in the vastness of the tall buildings and overcast sky.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  For New Year’s Eve, Tony stayed in apartment 3F. Erikson had tried to convince him to go out and celebrate, but Tony wasn’t interested in hanging around with a bunch of stoners. He liked to drink a beer or two, but all the pot smoking and drugs got under his skin. People changed into evil creatures when they were high. Tony didn’t consider drug-induced fun any fun at all.

  Tony lit a candle and grabbed the book Donata had given to him at the bakery that afternoon. Tony held the book in his hand, recalling her comments.

  “Tony, ya gotta read, boy. I know ya ain’t in school ’cause you’re gettin’ ‘homeschooled,’ as ya call it. That’s fine wit’ me, but cha gotta educate yourself along the way. Workin’ here, cleaning pans in the bakery will give ya work ethic, but cha gotta expand your mind too. Women don’t like stupid men.”

  “I ain’t stupid, Donata. When I was in school, I got all As and Bs.”

  “I didn’t say ya was stupid. What I’m sayin’ is that ya gotta keep up on things. Make sure you’re reading whatever books they’re reading in your grade. Reading books is a different kinda education. Ya learn how to talk, how to act, and how not to act. Readin’ teaches ya all kinds of things about life.”

  “Yeah, I guess that it’s a good idea now that ya put it that way. Fine. I’ll read it, but if it’s boring, I ain’t gonna finish it,” Tony said.

  “Keep that up, and I’ll clip ya. Ya just follow my lead; I ain’t gonna steer ya wrong,” Donata answered and waved her fist at him. She disappeared upstairs. When she came back, Tony was elbow deep in soapsuds, scrubbing pans.

  “Dry your hands,” Donata insisted.

  Tony obeyed.

  “Here, I want ya to read this over the New Year’s holiday. Then, I wanna discuss it when ya come back to work,” Donata stated.

  Tony took the book from her. “Lord of the Flies,” he read aloud. “How do ya know I’m gonna like it?”

  “’Cause I just know. All boys your age like this book,” she said with confidence.

  “OK, Donata. I’ll try it. Thanks.”

  Tony stared at the book as he sat on the floor in 3F. He and Erikson now referred to their new home as the Apartment of Death. Tony pulled some of his summer clothes out of the trash bag and layered them on top of him to stifle the cold air that crept through every crevice in the old building. He leaned into the candle, opened to the first page of the book, and was immediately pulled into the story.

  Tony read the story like a hungry baby waiting for its mama’s milk. He was inspired by the boys living on their own, isolated from the rest of the world, with no adults to fuck things up. But Tony also knew firsthand that kids can make life hard too. Adults are too preoccupied with their lives and earning money, and some have kids for all the wrong reasons. They worry about acquiring “things” and proving to other people how happy they are, when many aren’t happy at all. Kids, on the other hand, spend their time trying to find a social balance. Their predominant goal is to fit in, to be the kid whom the other kids like, to be popular. Isn’t that what Ralph and Jack from the Lord of the Flies wanted? They battled with each other for popularity and acceptance…to be the boss.

  Tony read the book right into the early-morning hours until his lids fluttered, and, try as he might to keep them open, they finally closed as he drifted into a sleep filled with dreams. His dreams brought him to the island with the boys from his book. At fourteen, Tony was the oldest one there with them. That instantly gave him power over the other kids. He was running through the jungle, and the crash of the waves against the shoreline was music to his ears. Then his dreams faded, replaced by darkness. The vibrant colors of the jungle disappeared, and now all he could see was black around him. He sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t alone. Then two angry eyes opened in front of him; all he could see were thin white circles engulfed by dilated black pupils. Suddenly, ripped from his sleep state, Tony jerked upright. He felt like he was bound in a web of sinister hatred, and his fear paralyzed him because he knew the eyes belonged to Officer Zody.

  Chapter Fifty

  When Tony woke up again, it was almost noon on New Year’s Day. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the book that lay next to him. He couldn’t wait to eat and get back to reading. He’d almost finished the entire book the night before, and he already had a feeling of sadness knowing that he’d be finished with the book before the day was over. Tony looked over at Erikson’s sleep spot on the floor. He hadn’t come home. That was rare for Erikson; he almost always staggered in, even if it was five in the morning.

  Tony went to the second floor of the abandoned building to look for Erikson. A few months ago, he’d found his older friend sleeping on the steps, so high he couldn’t make it to 3F.

  “Happy New Year’s, Tony,” Stan, the bipolar man, said.

  “Yeah, same to you, Stan. Hey, have ya seen Erikson?”

  “Nah, he probably got too fucked up last night and didn’t come home. Besides, it’s been snowing for hours. We got a fuckin’ blizzard goin’ on out there.”

  Tony followed Stan into his apartment. Stan scratched the top of his dirty, bald head. Tony couldn’t look away from Stan’s straggly beard that lay over his collarbone. Stan gave Tony a nervous smile, showing his teeth stained a yellow-brown to match his index and middle fingers on his right hand, which were discolored from his constant chain smoking. It wasn’t easy to clean yourself when you lived inside four walls with nothing in the middle. But there were public bathrooms and other ways to at least take care of the essentials.

  Tony looked out the window. Stan was right—there had to be two feet of snow on the ground, and the flakes were falling from the sky, making it look like a dense fog.

  “Damn, I didn’t know it was gonna snow,” Tony said, turning to Stan.

  “That’s ’cause we ain’t got no TVs or radios. But Julia, that noisy bitch down the hall, came to tell me she heard it on the news. She was at the train station yesterday; that’s where she heard it. Anyway, she came swooshing in here like she was fuckin’ AccuWeather herself. I can’t stand her. She’s always telling me I need to get on medicine, like she’s a fuckin’ doctor or something.”

  Tony chuckled. “Well, I think that Julia was tryin’ to share information about the weather, is all. Ya shouldn’t get mad at her for that.”

  “Now you’re takin’ her side?” Stan asked, stepping closer to Tony.

  “Nah, come on, Stan. Ya know I don’t take sides.”

  “I don’t know jack shit about cha, kid. Get the hell outta my apartment.”

  Tony shook his head and walked back into the hallway. He clomped down to the first floor, thinking about how nice it would be to live in a place of his own. With no sign of Erikson on the floor, Tony trudged back up to the apartment and sat on the floor. He picked up Lord of the Flies and started to read again. He had an uneasy feeling that fluttered in his belly, and he attributed it to the book.

  At two o’clock that afternoon, with the snow falling even harder, Tony heard someone approaching 3F. He looked up, ready to give Erikson a load of shit for being out all night and day. Tony’s gaze was met by Julia’s.

  “Tony, ya need to get the hell outta here. The cops are swarming the place. Left their sirens off so we couldn’t hear ’em. They’ll throw all of us out, but they’ll take ya in ’cause you’re just a kid.”

  “Shit!” Tony said, jumping to his feet. “Thanks, Julia.”

  Instead of running out of 3F, Tony followed the steps he and Erikson had agreed upo
n. He pulled the wood off of the back bedroom window and slid onto the rusted fire escape. The metal steps were covered in snow. Tony inched his way down the back of the building until he was on the ground. He walked through the narrow alley on the side of the house and out onto the street in front of the house. Tony looked into the empty lot; the grass was now buried by the snow, and police and paramedics were gathered around doing something.

  Tony walked into the center of the commotion, and there he saw the top of the hat he’d given to Erikson for Christmas. He pushed his way to the front of the officials and knelt down in the snow next to his friend.

  “Hey, kid, you know this guy?” an officer asked.

  Tony focused his attention on his friend. “Erikson. Erikson! Wake up!”

  The female paramedic put her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’? Do somethin’. Help him,” Tony screamed.

  “There’s nothing we can do. It looks like he froze to death.”

  One policeman helped Tony to his feet. “You go on home now.”

  Tony slouched back into the blanket of snow. He clung on to Erikson. His body felt like a board, but he didn’t care. Tony cried for the man who had taken him in. Even though they had only known each other three and a half months, Erikson was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had.

  Tony sobbed as he nuzzled his face into Erikson’s chest. He could smell the crack cocaine underneath his jacket. He knew the glass pipe was in the pocket inside his coat. Tony wanted to remove the pipe to maintain Erikson’s dignity, but he couldn’t risk taking it out in front of the police for fear of going to jail again.

  “How do you know this man?” a police officer said, eyeing Tony suspiciously.

  Tony looked up at the officer, tears freezing on his face. “I know him from the neighborhood. He was a real nice man. He helped me out once. Gave me advice when my ma pissed me off and I was gonna run away from home,” he lied.

  “All right, it’s time for you to go. We have to get this man into the ambulance to take him downtown,” the officer responded.

  Tony took one last look at Erikson before he got up from the ground. He leaned into Erikson’s ear. “I love you, old man. Watch over me, will ya?”

  Tony stood, not knowing where to go next. The police were inside the abandoned house, making everyone leave. He watched them carry boards inside to barricade the main entrance to the building.

  Tony walked, stumbling along wherever his feet took him. His thoughts and feelings were whirling around chaotically, like the blizzard he was walking through. Twenty minutes later, covered in snow and frozen to the bone, he was pounding on the door to the bakery, but no one answered. He sat in the deep snow on the step, giving up and waiting to freeze to death just like Erikson. The door to the bakery opened, and Tony looked up at Donata and Ruth staring down at him.

  “What in God’s name are ya doin’ out here, boy?”

  “I had nowhere else to go,” Tony said and began to cry.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  “Tony, what happened to you? Where’s your uncle?” Ruth asked with a child’s innocence.

  Tony looked at Donata before answering. “My uncle, well, he, um…something bad happened to him today.”

  “Is he gonna be OK?” Ruth said, wide eyed.

  “I don’t know, Ruth. Right now, I just need some time to figure stuff out.”

  “All right, ’nough talkin’. Let’s get you upstairs into a warm bath. You’re half frozen,” Donata demanded.

  While Donata filled the tub for Tony, Ruth chatted with him.

  “Is your uncle sick?”

  Tony averted his eyes from the child’s gaze. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

  “Will he get better?”

  Tony shook his head.

  Ruth’s hand covered her mouth. “Where will you go if he doesn’t get better?”

  “I don’t know yet, Ruth. I ain’t had no time to figure things out.” Tony looked at Ruth, her eyes revealed the panic that tumbled around in his belly. He didn’t want Ruth to worry; she was just a little girl and had enough of her own problems. “You know what, though?”

  “What?” Ruth said with hopeful anticipation.

  “I always figure stuff out. I know a couple of places that I can live.”

  Ruth cocked her head to the side. “Then why did you come here and not go to one of those places?”

  Damn, Tony thought, I can’t get anything over on this kid. “Well, that’s because they are all out of town for New Year’s. They’ll get home in a couple of days, though, and then I’ll be fine.”

  “Uh-huh. So, what about your uncle, though? Are you gonna be able to look in on him? Is he in the hospital? Maybe Grandma and me can visit him and bring him some flowers. I can ask her,” Ruth gushed, clearly wanting to help Tony.

  “Ruth Caroline!” The sharpness of Donata’s voice made the child freeze.

  Ruth’s back went erect as she swiftly turned to look at her grandmother, who was annoyed, judging by the fact that she’d used her middle name.

  “Gram, I wasn’t doing anything. I was just talking to Tony about his uncle. I wasn’t bothering him. Was I?” Ruth said, her beautiful, innocent eyes searching Tony’s face.

  “Nah, ya can never bother me, Ruth. She was just askin’ some questions, Donata. She didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

  “All right then. Let’s go, Tony. Your bath is ready. When you’re finished there, I made some soup that I’ll heat up for ya. Now get a move on. Throw me your clothes so I can put ’em in the washer while you’re takin’ a bath. They need a good cleanin’,” Donata said, scrunching up her nose.

  Ruth giggled, and Tony shot her a look. “You do kinda stink,” the child teased.

  Tony felt the blood rush to his face. At first he was embarrassed, but then as he focused on Ruth’s sweet smile, he realized that Donata and Ruth meant him no harm. They had been very good to him over the past months—always with a friendly smile and a kind word.

  Finally, Tony’s frown turned into a smile. “Yeah, well, we all can’t smell like cookies and cinnamon buns all the time,” he said, reaching down and tickling Ruth. She giggled and squirmed away from Tony, until she lost her balance on the prosthetic leg and landed on her ass. Tony stopped and looked at Donata, waiting to be thrown out, but the older woman only laughed and walked into the tiny kitchen.

  Tony undressed and wrapped the clean towel around his waist. He opened the bathroom door and handed Ruth his dirty clothes. She grabbed the clothes in one hand and pinched her nose shut with the other. This time Tony smiled and gently shut the bathroom door in her face.

  Tony looked at the tub filled with clean water and eased himself in. The steamy bath felt foreign against his dirty, dry skin, but he liked it. He laid his head back on the edge of the tub, savoring every precious moment. He thought about where he would go next. He couldn’t go back to apartment 3F; the cops had emptied the building and boarded up the entrance. His good feeling slid from his body, and Tony grabbed at his stomach as a seed of fear, a fear of the unknown, planted itself in the pit of his belly. He no longer had a place to sleep, and Erikson was gone too. The comfort of his bath now forgotten, Tony worried about where he would go next.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Tony emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel. He inched his way toward the living room, where he could hear the white noise of the television. Ruth was lying on the floor, giggling at a cartoon she was watching. Tony took a few steps into the room and caught Ruth’s attention.

  “Where’s Donata?” he asked.

  “Gram?” Ruth yelled.

  Donata poked her head around the corner, and Tony waved at her. She marched out from the kitchen and led Tony into the bedroom, where she opened the closet and pulled out a dark-gray robe.

  “Here, put this on. It belonged to my husband, God rest his soul. Anyway, your clothes are still in the washer. When you’re finished puttin’ that on, y
a can come on out to the kitchen. I heated up the soup for ya.”

  Tony met Donata’s eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’re doin’ for me.”

  Donata nodded, but before she left the bedroom, she turned back to Tony. “I really like ya, Tony. In my heart, I know you’re a good kid. You have kind eyes, but there’s also fire in there. Not too often ya see those two things together. There’s somethin’ real special ’bout cha. Get done so we can talk some more.”

  When Tony was dressed, he sat at the kitchen table and looked outside at the snow. It was still falling heavily.

  Donata went to the stove and brought a bowl of hot soup back to the table. “Looks like ya might have to stay here wit’ us for a couple of days. They ain’t even gonna be able to get the plows down the streets. Biggest snowstorm we had in twenty years.”

  Tony’s guts relaxed…he had a few days.

  “Is there anybody ya gotta call to let ’em know you’re here…that you’re safe?”

  “No, like I said, my uncle is sick. He won’t be able to talk wit’ me anyway.”

  “Oh yeah? Where is he?”

  Tony laid his spoon in the bowl. “He, um, he’s in the hospital.”

  “Yeah? What hospital?”

  “I can’t remember the name of it,” he murmured.

  “I see. What’s your uncle’s name?”

  “Erikson…” Tony’s words fell short. He sucked in a deep breath and rested his hands in his lap.

  “Erikson isn’t really my uncle. He’s a guy that I met on the streets. He took me in. He kinda took care of me for a while. He’s had a minor setback,” he said, lying, “but he’ll be back home soon.”

  Donata eyed him suspiciously. She didn’t believe him, but at least he’d admitted that he wasn’t with his real uncle.

  “What happened to your father? Why ain’t he takin’ care of ya, instead of some stranger?”