Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Even though you don't have a phone and would sooner die than have police officers near your apartment. Richard's teeth grated as she stared intently at a bruise shadowed eye. "You're coming with me Vincentimir…or I'll get a warrant to search your room." She added quietly.

  Red flashed at her, outraged as a ripple flowed through the pale lips. "Are you threatening me now, Chief?"

  Tan features tightened. Their voices were low and she doubted that the others could hear them well enough to know what they were saying. "I'm doing this for your own good, Vincentimir."

  The teen's face lost its expression, and then sneered at Richard, shocking her eyes into widening at the twisted humor that composed his smirk. It was full of hate and ironic, depraved amusement. "Is it for my own good, Chief? Or do you feel like playing the hero, the good guy, the sympathetic cop? You want to rescue a little lost puppy to pet and cuddle. Oh, so cute." The smirk stretched into a mocking quiet chuckle. He saw the wide blue eyes and blank features, but he didn't care. He couldn't feel anything right now…he couldn't think…a voice was speaking through him, never reaching the phase of an unspoken thought. His teeth flashed in a wicked smile as a step brought him closer to passing the woman. "I'm not a cute little puppy, Chief. I'm a rabid stray…so you'd better leave me the fuck alone, before something goes wrong." Vincent smiled when he slipped past Richard and gazed easily upon the confused features of her daughter as he readied to go around her. Instead, he gasped when a hand gripped the back of his sweatshirt and slammed him into the wall, forcing the side of his face to touch the ungiving structure. A pained hiss shot from his teeth, but the shock cleared his mind, widening his eyes. He didn't move as his eyes flicked to the wall, the door, William, the trees beyond the end of the walkway; moving without focusing on anything. A deep growl bled through the thickness of his hood, by his ear.

  "You can't use empty threats against me. You're a pathetic child and nothing else, Vincentimir. I will dictate what you can do and where you can go. I will take you home. You willbe the hungry little pup that you are. You will not threaten me, my family, or my children, again."

  Limp with shock, Vincent eyes dilated, blurring his vision as he felt the rough wall dent impressions into his cheek and irritate the red scratches left on his brow from the night he had spent in the parking garage. Richard released the teen and the boy slid for a moment before catching himself and straightening. He pulled away from the wall, standing and watching the eyes around him. None of the windows were occupied by his neighbors, at least.

  The Rodriguezs' watched his empty look and his wide, observing eyes. Richard softened with a small sigh, lifting a hand to clasp the teen's shoulder. It flinched under her fingers and Vincent's face went to her with evident caution. She only nodded and patted the wet shoulder. "Come along, Vincentimir. We're going." The woman was pleased when the boy followed her quietly as she walked towards the stairs. The others trailed behind them.

  The sound of dull thuds lifted Vincent's eyes to the stairs. He noticed the dark cane that made the sound as the old man carefully picked his way down the steps. Vincent moved to the side to let William pass him, so he could help the old man, but William stopped beside him, thinking that he was trying to sneak back to his room, while the wizened blue eyes of the cane bearing man sparked with hostility. Vincent blinked and then chose to descend the rest of the stairs to follow Richard's lead.

  The grass squished when he cut across a length of the lawn to continue on the concrete path that bordered the building and took them to a cramped parking lot. He saw Rodriguez's car and wondered, grimly, how they would all fit into it. Someone would have to take the middle back seat…

  William did, with her brother on her right while Vincent sat on her left looking out the window. The car was awkwardly silent and Vincent felt the old man in the passenger seat stare at him in the rear view mirror. He caught the reflection's eyes and held them, curiosity starting to emerge. It seemed to interest the man that the boy wasn't looking away, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Vincent broke the quiet as his curiosity displaced his uneasiness. The teen spoke with a straight, slightly guarded, face.

  "So you're Grandpa Rodriguez?"

  All eyes, but Richard's and the pair that was already watching Vincent, went to him. William was having trouble finding her voice, so Rodriguez responded to the stated question with a low murmur. "His last name isn't Rodriguez."

  Vincent let his gaze flick over William to see the green eyes. Rodriguez was still being pissy, he figured. Vincent blinked and returned to his staring contest with the old man. Normally, he would have smiled and cracked a joke of some kind, but he wasn't in the mood. His eyes…and his features were too heavy to smile. "Do you have a name old man?"

  "Vincentimir." Richard's warning made Vincent jump a little and he looked away from the mirror to stare at the seat in front of him.

  The was a pause.

  "So, Grandpa is here for Christmas? Are you staying in that room by the laundry room?"

  Talking was not something Vincent really wanted to do, but he was close to squirming under the pressure of the odd quiet that came after…something as awkward as what had just happened. The first impression he'd made on the old man had been utter crap. He just wanted the old guy to say something. When the man remained mute, Vincent licked his lips and wished that he was in his room, away from the stares that were burning into him. He rubbed his hands as he laid his arms on his legs, but sat up when he realized the position was uncomfortably invasive of Richard's personal space. The car felt claustrophobic, in Vincent's opinion. "You don't mind if I call you Grandpa? I'll call you whatever you want, but Chief, Female Rodriguez, and Rodriguez are already taken. I don't really like to call people by their names. Gotta have a nickname. Everyone has a nickname…mine's Vincent."

  If the old man didn't speak now, Vincent was going to give up and curl into a ball of condensed humiliation. He looked like the Chief…so he must be her father. That revelation shot his eyes to the mirror, to the blue orbs that reflected in it. "You're the Chief's dad? Good job."

  Richard scoffed or spluttered while surprise widened the cobalt blue in the mirror. The first hint of amusement crinkled the old man's eyes, deepening the creases that always marked them.

  "Vincent…" A voice on the other side of William muttered in disbelief. Red met green and Rodriguez almost smirked but looked away instead. "…you're a piece of work."

  Vincent paused and then frowned, looking at the blue eyes in the mirror and then Rodriguez. "Is that a good thing? Kinda hard to tell when you start talking in code."

  "Don't know." Rodriguez couldn't suppress a snort. William was a little ruffled, but she eased back into her comfort zone and smiled at Vincent, causing him to stiffen a bit and then turn to face forward and watch the mirror. The old guy staring at him for all this time without saying anything, was really bothering him now.

  "Hi." He spoke to the mirror. The old man was amused again when he noticed how he was affecting the delinquent. Vincent dropped his eyes to his lap with a mutter that said nothing. But his eyes widened and his breath caught when he realized how much water had collected around him. If it weren't for the stitching on the seats, William would be sitting in a puddle as well…and it looked like she might be by the time they got to the Rodriguezs' house. He forgot about the blue eyes that were still watching him as he bit his lip and looked at the siblings, hesitating. He released his lip. "Rodriguez, you don't happen to have a towel anywhere? You might want to save your leather seats…since I'm not going to be paying you anything for ruining them."

  Rodriguez looked at him and then his soaked clothes while William discretely shifted away from the threatening water. The jock leaned over and dug around under his grandfather's seat and then drew out a dirty old towel. He threw it at Vincent with a hint of a smirk. "I think it's clean. Just a bit stiff."

  Vincent caught it and felt what Rodriguez was talking about. He scowled and dropped it unceremoniously onto the puddle.
"Sweaty old football towel…great. Thanks a ton, fat ass."

  "You're welcome."

  Vincent's face twitched with disgust as he imagined the dried sweat melting into the puddle that surrounded him. He moved away from it and growled in frustration. "Absolutely disgusting. Fat ass-sweat." He made a gagging sound that got Rodriguez to laugh while his sister smiled with a soft chuckle. Red went to William with a frown. He lifted the cloth up a bit. "You want some of this?"

  The girl's face blanched and she held up her hands, ready to push it away or slap the boy. "No. Get it away from me."

  Vincent smirked at Rodriguez as he dropped the towel again. "See, you're gross." Rodriguez scowled back at him. William giggled a little during the intermission.

  "You're one to talk about cleanliness, boy."

  The Walter-like reference to him made Vincent's eyes dart to the blue in the mirror. He stared at the eyes and part of the old face he could see. A sudden smile lit his face, distracting the man. "Hey, you think your room's nice and clean right? It's freaken amazing, because I cleaned it." The boy smugly crossed his arms and chuckled at the blank expression. "I'm a soap junky. A packet of free Tide, ah, that's my cocaine." He chuckled devilishly to himself when Richard growled in disapproval.

  "Not funny." She frowned upon her father when he chuckled. Vincent was delighted when he succeeded in making the old man show this much humor, and he laughed along with him.

  "Naw, Chief, it was loads funny. Rodriguez, you should pick up some humor tips from me since you've been such a sucky clown lately. The only funny thing about you right now is your fat ass and your occasional sarcasm."

  "I'm not fat, runt."

  "Funny." Vincent got William to laugh at Rodriguez's sulking mumbles. It was as if the rain was gone and the silence had never existed.

  The old man sitting next to his daughter continued to watch the pale red eyed boy, pensively. The boy, as had been mentioned to him, was supposedly a gangster. He looked the part, but he didn't speak like one. His pronunciation was oddly crisp sometimes. 'Occasional sarcasm' and other words caught the man as being off for a young gangster to use. Not to mention that he was pretty malleable under his daughter's hand. Richard was the Chief of police with a wide area under her jurisdiction and this…delinquent, a.k.a. criminal, was easily interacting with her kids and listened to her and let her push him around. Vincent was a few inches taller than Richard, and the old man was not naïve enough to assume that malnourishment would do anything to reduce the physical threat presented by a street-wise thug. His grandson would be able to handle his own, but William, no, not even with the self defense training her mother had drilled into her. And Richard…without pepper spray, a tazer, or the dissuading presence of her gun, would have some trouble if the boy wanted to harm her. But he had let the woman push him into a wall and then had done nothing about it afterwards. What influence did this family have over the boy?

  "Hey, Grandpa, how long are you staying?"

  The pale teen was smiling at the mirror. Blue observed, never wavering. "One more day."

  "So, until tomorrow? Cool."

  William and Rodriguez were talking while Vincent was quiet, listening contently. The boy was interesting, the blue decided and then picked up on a stifled cough. The cough returned, intensified, as the hacking sound passed through the sleeve Vincent had over his mouth. The siblings stopped and commented, 'that doesn't sound good' only to have Vincent grin and wave his hand as if offended.

  "Really? I thought it sounded fantastic…music to my ears."

  "It sounded like you were hacking up a lung, Vincent." Rodriguez stated impassively, the humor going straight to Vincent's smile. The jokes continued and the cough was forgotten.

  "Vincentimir, why were you walking around in the rain?" Richard's voice overwhelmed any other conversation that was taking place. The car became quiet. Vincent watched his hands in his lap, playing with his fingers.

  "Jus' went to visit my uncle, Chief. It's Christmas, you know?"

  It was quiet again.

  "The hospital is a pretty long walk from your apartment…and it's been raining all day." Richard's lips tightened as they were drawn into a thin line. Vincent didn't answer right away, and he only responded when his eyes had been turned to the window for a few seconds.

  "I got a ride with Jake in the morning when visiting hours started."

  Richard ignored her distain for the familiarity between the man and the boy, for now. "And he didn't give you a ride home?"

  "I told him I didn't need one. Told him I'd get a cab or something."

  "And you didn't."

  "No. I wanted to go for a walk in the sunshine, Chief, to get some fresh air. The smog does wonder's for your respiratory system. Almost as good as a cigarette."

  The boy didn't smell like smoke, so those listening assumed it was a joke, similar to the one made about cocaine. Richard didn't have anything else she wanted to say in the car, so the siblings began to talk while Vincent contributed or listened quietly as the car drove through the storm.

  They were odd, stiffening twitches that resembled shivers, or they were stiff shivers that resembled odd twitches, either way, they produced the same effect on the teen, jerks tightening and loosening his nerves, playing with him as if he were strung up like a marionette. He moved his hands, rubbing his fingers, hiding them in his sleeves, breathing on them, cupped by his face; but they weren't getting any warmer. The cold had the effect of a drug, keeping his mind jumping as quickly as his spasming muscles. To bring his teeth apart, to speak, would permit them to chatter if they were kept too close together. To separate his hands, would be to give them permission to tremble. Overall, when the boy stepped out into the closed garage as the others exited the car, the effect of the twitching shivers drew an outraged snarl from Richard, a fright that paralyzed the boy's nerves for a moment.

  Her fingers were like talons as she snatched the boy's sweatshirt and half dragged, half shoved, him to the door, passing her father on the way. The man said nothing as he watched the woman's behavior and the stunned response from the teen.

  "Get him inside! Throw him in the shower! And make sure the water is boiling! Leroy!" She threw a hiss back at the blonde boy standing dumbly by the car. Richard thrust the door open and pushed Vincent through the doorway, stabbing at it with a pointing finger. "NOW! Go get him in the shower, or a hot bath and get him some dry clothes! MOVE IT!"

  The command was heard and followed, scuttling Rodriguez through the door where he took Vincent's arm to hurry him upstairs. William was hiding in the car, unwilling to emerge until the woman's temper had cooled. Her mother wasn't violent. She was just extremely intimidating…and made you want to piss your pants sometimes. William ducked her head as she heard an exasperated, rumbling growl that bordered an exhausted sigh. Richard's fist knotted her hair as her feet turned her away from the car, and then back to it. She dropped her hand to her side with an obvious sigh, bringing blue eyes to the old man watching her. She looked away with a scowl, tucking a hand into her pants pocket.

  "Do you know how aggravating it is when no one takes care of a child?" Her hiss rode on suppressed and simmering fury. The man blinked and looked to the door into the house as he shut the car door quietly. His attempt at minimizing the sound led to the door not latching properly, so he had to open and close it again. By this time, Richard had marched into the house and her timid daughter was slowly slipping out of the car. The man looked at his granddaughter and she looked back at him, waiting patiently for the man to ask the question he seemed to be balancing on the tip of his tongue. The pause burned away.

  "What do you know about the boy?"

  William bit her lip, her gaze wandering as she debated what her best answer would be. She finally looked up with a little sigh, an apology written in her features. "You'll have to ask Vincent if you want to know anything about him. I can't…really get my head around the kid. But I think he's nice…don't know much about him, really, though. But he's nice.
"

  The two watched one another for a moment before the grandfather nodded with a warming smile, a touch of pride for his granddaughter passing into his eyes.

  "I will then, if that is your advice."

  "Yeah." William beamed and took a step forward to pause, allowing the old man to enter the house before her. "Mom should be taking care of the food. I'm going to see if there's anything she needs help with. Do you need anything, Grandpa?"

  "No." William had stopped by the curved wall at the end of the hallway while the man shook his head with the same smile and carried on to his room, his cane barely audible as it hit the floor. "I'll be getting ready for dinner."

  The door to the laundry room was open, the old man observed, slowing to stand and watch his grandson pour soap into the washing machine as the boy muttered to himself. Deciding against making any comments, the man moved on, entering his room and closing the door behind him as Rodriguez left the laundry room.

  The teen ventured into the kitchen to ask how long it would be until dinner was ready. He was told it would be another thirty minutes. With that information, Rodriguez hurried off to his room before he could be asked to set the table. Better that William got stuck with that job; he was taking care of the delinquent.

  Clothes. Shoot, they'd slipped his mind completely. Rodriguez rummaged through a few drawers and pulled out a T-shirt, and then shoved it back in with a frown, shutting the drawer and going to his closet instead. He'd almost forgotten that it was Christmas. Vincent needed to wear something more respectable than a T-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. A nice dress shirt…and pants, black…shoes…didn't matter…should he wear a coat? But there was only one…he'd have to go without…