by P. S. Power
It sounded very different than how reality worked, since it didn’t speak about them wasting the money on nights out with their friends first, but on paper it sounded right. Plus, it felt like keeping Leslie Grant happy was a good idea, more or less. It hadn’t been that hard to do the work while he passed out towels, after all.
Jen directed him well and they had a decent, if simple, looking meal ready when everyone started coming in. Early, like she’d mentioned, but only by about twenty minutes. Lewis didn’t come to lunch with them, since, according to Mark, he had to get off to his day job. That seemed surprising, but most of the people there actually had those. The only ones that didn’t were Steve and Ashley. Even Denny worked like a regular person. The last two days had just been his time off.
Just like the day before, Rick started by asking people how their days were going. Mainly with an eye toward training. When it got to Steve, he waved a bit.
“I worked with Tony. I assure you all, what he might lack in conditioning and skill, he makes up for in heart… and guilt.” He cleared his voice, softened it a lot and nearly whispered. It sounded soulful and almost like he was going to cry. “Are you… certain that’s the best you can do?”
It got a laugh, but he didn’t smile about it.
“I’m serious. I did an extra twenty minutes of sit ups, just so I wouldn’t disappoint him. Plus, even when he hurt too much to go on, he did. Like yesterday.” That, oddly, got a nod from Denny.
“No doubt. I saw that one.” Looking down the table, he told the story for the others. “We made him spar with Steve and Ashley. Mainly as a joke, you know, it was his very first day and he doesn’t really know how to fight at all. His running is good but… Well anyway, Steve started to light him up, I mean… Hard. Like a pro fight? And he kept coming back, each time. Decent form, too. A bit sloppy and slow as all hell, but that will go away with practice.”
The people that hadn’t been there looked a bit disbelieving, but Mark snorted, seeing that. Then he picked at the salad.
“That’s not wrong. Plus, he managed to rock Ashley, twice. It was a total exploit, but he did it.”
That got Ashley to sigh and nod and Dani to actually stare at him.
“You hit a girl?” The scandal in her voice seemed fake, at least.
So he nodded and acted proud.
“Yep. Twice. She kept going and pretty much handed me my… behind for the rest of it.”
Rick smiled and nodded while he ate, then glanced at Ashley pretty solidly.
“That’s true. She did good work, once she knew that her opponent wasn’t just going to play patty cakes with her. That means the rest of us have been falling down on that one.” He pointed at Steve then, still smiling. “Next time, bring the A game. Half of the amateurs around here won’t even get in the ring with a woman and those that will mainly hold back so much that it’s worse than doing nothing at all. The boxing side is worse than the MMA that way. We need to step that part up, a lot.”
Dani shook her head a bit, but winked at him.
“So, do you think you can kick my ass, too?”
It wasn’t really a challenge, but he didn’t lie about it.
“Nope. But I’ll be willing to actually try. In a few days. I’m planning on being so sore that I can barely move tomorrow. Maybe I can focus on mopping and towel duties? After the morning sprints and run, I mean.”
That got Steve to smile, but Denny to put his foot down.
“No. Break day. Maybe some light cleaning in the afternoon, if you want, since we all have to work, but take time to recover. No exercise.” It sounded firm and oddly enough Rick nodded.
“That’s a real point. Maybe Jen or I could get some time off and take you shopping? That, or one of you others? Some sharper clothing, work out gear. Ash, you have a car, right? Plus, you probably need a rest day as well.” He was hinting at something, but the woman didn’t take it the wrong way.
Since what he wanted was clearly babysitting and not setting them up for a good time otherwise, that was probably fair. Strangely enough, Ashley just smiled at him, which showed she had dimples on her chin and cheeks and then nodded.
“We can do that. Call it ten in the morning? You’re over at Jen’s?”
That got looks from everyone around the table, but he nodded and no one explained the situation for some reason. It wasn’t exactly shameful to take in a relative though and saying nothing meant that people probably would start thinking that Rick was his father. They had the same last name after all.
So Anthony did it, because everyone seemed too close not to understand something that basic.
“I’m Rick’s nephew. My mother is his sister. My kind of horrible mother. Not that she’s mean, but she got a job with a cruise line and that means being gone for six months at a time, for a few years. If she can keep it, which doesn’t seem likely. So Rick is looking after me.”
That got a small smile from Rick and an almost imperceptible nod from both Jen and oddly, Dani. As far as he knew that woman wouldn’t have any reason to think anything of the situation at all, but several of the others looked a bit relieved. Mark, who was a bit of a jerk, actually laughed.
“I thought you were supposed to be the secret shame from Rick’s past come back to bite him on the ass. Still, you fit in here pretty good. Even if you do run too fast.”
Oddly enough, that got a chuckle and no one else mentioned the whole thing again. They probably didn’t need to, now that they understood what the story was. His life hadn’t been great and he was a burden on these good people, through no fault of their own. That meant they should look pretty good to everyone, really. It was all even the truth, so no one would be claiming that he’d lied to them later. Not that they should really care about any of it.
The fish was kind of disgusting, but he ate it and the plain salad, with no rice, since that wasn’t a vegetable. It made for a boring meal, but he got through it all, since it was the food they were getting that day. Then, at just before one, everyone got up, scraped their plates and took turns rinsing their dishes and glasses. They went into the dishwasher that was used to sanitize the things.
After that, everyone got to wait around, outside of a small room, while the old doctor inside poked and prodded them all. The only difficulty there for Anthony was that Doc Hampshire wasn’t old, or male, when it was his turn to go and see the elderly gentleman. Instead she was about forty and had rather nice brown hair. The professional seeming woman was a bit heavy and not that great looking though. That part was really considerate of her, given that he had to strip down for her physical and popping wood right then would have been kind of hard to hide.
Honestly it was still difficult to prevent when he had to turn his head and cough, her right hand cupping his nuts.
“No hernia. Good reflexes and a sound heart. I think I can clear you then. Mr. Winters is your guardian? It says here that you’re fifteen, is that right?”
Anthony smiled and then shrugged.
“Honestly? I don’t know. My mother always said that, but she might have misplaced a year or two in there. That’s what my birth certificate says, but she kind of got that when I was five, since she didn’t have me in a hospital. I mean, what are the odds that my birthday is really January first, at noon exactly?”
The older woman, smiled then and nodded.
“Well, you’re pretty close to that age, so I wouldn’t worry about a year one way or the other. You look older than that, but seem a little short and slight of build at the same time. If you want, I can get some x-rays that will tell us more. My best guess though is that you still have several inches of growing to do. You’re healthy, so like I said, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Since he didn’t really get a choice, without costly medical stuff, he decided to just take the win and let being healthy be enough for him.
“Great! Thanks. Um… What exactly am I being cleared for?”
The doctor smiled then and shook her head a bit, like he might ju
st not be all that bright.
“To get a boxing license and cleared for MMA competitions? In your case that would be for amateur divisions, but the physical is the same for both. It would also clear you for track, soccer or the swim team, if that comes up? This is a little more comprehensive than what we’d do for school sports, but it works for both.”
Hearing that he nodded, getting the idea.
“Cross Country, too?”
“Oh, sure. Anything like that. You have a clean bill of health, so have at whatever floats your boat. It’s just that most of the people here are fighters, so I made a guess.” She seemed fairly clinical about that part of things, but faked a smile for him. Which got him to do it in return.
Then seeing he was happy with the data he had, she sent him out and left a short bit later.
Letting him hobble around, cleaning and passing out fluffy, very nice towels, after he got cleaned up and showered himself.
Chapter four
The next morning hit Anthony with a hammer. One that mainly seemed to dislike his lower back, neck and shoulders. It had, kindly enough, also attacked his calves it seemed. In short he hurt in about half the places that his body could. His upper legs were fine, so that was something. Even if he’d been working them pretty hard over the last few days, those were in decent enough shape not to be killing him.
“So it’s only everything else.” He laid in bed for a while, since it was just turning light out, through the single window that he had on the far wall. That looked at the side of the neighbor’s house, making the light coming in from that direction seem a little bit green as it lit his room.
He’d gone to bed early, but it hadn’t been easy to get to sleep. Not ten hours of rest either, yet. Still, he was getting up, or his bladder was going to fail him. It was that time of day, where rolling over was tempting, but impossible if he wanted anything near rest.
So, moving as normally as possible, trying not to give in and be a wimp, he decided to get himself ready for whatever might be coming. That meant a shave, shower and some tooth brush work, then finding real people clothes to wear. For the last days he’d been in sweats the whole time, so it felt both strange and good to put on some of his older things.
Most of that was kind of worn, having gotten things second hand. It was cheaper that way and if you were careful, you could find some interesting things to wear at thrift shops. Old outfits that probably made him look like a wanna-be hipster, but could at least be claimed to have character, instead of him just being poor. Honestly, he didn’t need a lot of new things that way, he decided.
For one thing, he didn’t have any cash, which would make shopping hard. Deirdre hadn’t seen fit to leave him with anything like that and the current program at the gym didn’t really seem to pay anything. Which was probably fair. Cleaning up a little and handing out towels that people could have just taken from a pile of the things five feet away wasn’t exactly high value service. It gave him something to do that looked like he was being useful, so was worth doing, but it made sense that he wasn’t going to get paid for it.
The rest of it… Well, clearly that part was about keeping him busy. It was working, too. Anthony didn’t know what Jen and Rick thought he might get up to if left alone for too long, but they weren’t really taking any chances, as far as things like that went. Which was incredibly different, for his life. In his world it was far more common to have no adults around for a week or two at a time, than to have them be in the same building day after day.
They were probably worried that he was going to do drugs and be off getting girls pregnant, if the stuff he’d learned from television was accurate. That really had been a risk in his life, even when he’d been pretty young. That he’d kind of outgrown the worst of that wasn’t a thing that the new adults could know about. Still, they actually seemed to care and were trying to be good people, which was both nice and insane. Real people weren’t like that.
Not for long.
Working slowly, he decided to risk unpacking the hefty bags that he had as luggage. There was a dresser there and while he still didn’t know if he was going to be kicked out in the next days, it felt like he had a chance. Just as long as he could keep being Tony, the helpful and hardworking super-boy.
“There are worse things…” He muttered to himself, as he sorted the clothing into separate drawers, not really knowing how to do that. He’d had a dresser before, a few times, but had always kept his bags packed and worked from them. It made sense if you were going to be leaving inside a few days, or at an uncertain time of the night. As it was, he needed to find a laundromat soon.
There was a pile of sodden and probably mildewing exercise clothes along the wall of his room. It had only been a few days since he’d gotten there, but it was clear that these people loved sweat. Or at least making him create it. Again, there really were worse things to have to deal with, so he tried his best and then packed one of the black bags with the clothes that needed cleaning.
After that, he left the bag in the center of the room, near the front and hobbled down the stairs. Slowly. His legs really were up to it, but the rest of him tried to protest a bit. He refused to listen and looked at the clock on the wall, near the living room that no one had seemed to use yet.
That part he understood at least. Rick and Jen were both gearing up for big events. Jen had a fight she was training for and had to work part of the day on top of that and Rick was training Steve most of the time, as well as a couple of other fighters. So it was one of the busy times for them. The idea of people spending ten to sixteen hours a day working was hard for him to understand, but it was what they did. Sometimes. As he looked at the clock, which was the old fashioned kind with hands, it turned to six-thirty. Which apparently was when Jen and Rick actually woke up each day.
He heard them moving around at least.
Then, rather annoyingly, heard them doing other stuff. The moans and groans, as well as the squeaking of mattress springs wasn’t lost on him, but given that he was trying to be good that way himself, it was a pain to have to listen to. To that end, being good and wholesome, he went outside, into the crisp morning air. It wasn’t cold out or anything, but the sky was clear and the place had fairly fresh air. Slowly, he went for a walk, sauntering, since he was supposed to be getting some rest that day. It was the first chance he’d had to see what was in the immediate area, really.
He knew what was in one direction, for a good way, having run it a few times now. That meant that the other direction held a whole new world for him. One filled, it turned out, with houses and not one, but three different churches. That was helpful to see, since one of them actually started to fill up with people as he walked past, meaning it was Sunday morning.
A man, who had dark skin and a bright smile, waved at him.
“Good morning. Did you come for the early service? Always good to see a new face.”
He hadn’t, but shrugged and nodded.
That kind of thing was what Tony would be doing, he decided. Good people went to church like that, at least on television.
“Sounds good! I’m Tony. Tony Winters.”
The man beamed at him and held out his hand to shake.
“Reverend Clemance Keene. Call me Clem. Come on in then, Tony! We’ll be starting at seven sharp. I promise, I try to keep the early morning sermons short and sweet. Now if you want a lecture, come back at ten.” He smiled about that, as if it weren’t a real thing.
The building wasn’t that big inside and Tony didn’t know any of the songs, but an older lady sat next to him, looking very proper in her flowered springtime dress.
“You new?” She didn’t seem upset by the strange face, even if he was the palest person in the room. Most of the others were older than he was, too.
“Yes. Tony. Pleased to meet you.”
She grinned and leaned toward him, holding a book out. A hymnal. He knew that because the Reverend had asked them to turn to page seventy-four and sing along. Everyone else
did that, but he didn’t even know the tune, so kind of managed to bob along with what they were doing. No one called him on it.
“Ethyl. Good to meet you, Tony. Not enough young people appreciate the Lord anymore. There’s room in all hearts for Jesus, if you just let him in.” She didn’t really start talking to him, until after the Reverend had called the thing over and claimed they had treats in the other room. “Are you going to grab a cookie?”
He shook his head, but smiled, since it was clear that she was trying to be nice to him, which was really sweet, given he was literally some stranger off the street.
“I can’t. I’m in training. Boxing? So I only get to eat certain foods.” He was willing to explain more than that, but she nodded, happily.
“My grandson, Lewis, he works over at the Winters’ place, doing boxing things. Do you know it?”
Clearly it wasn’t that big of an area, but he was able to nod at least.
“That’s where I’m training. I think I met Lewis the other day in fact. Small world! He seemed nice.” At least the bit that he’d said had been polite enough. Still, telling his grandmother that he was anything else just seemed mean.
“He’s a good boy. Hard working and solid. Not like the rest of that side of the family. Well, I won’t keep you Tony, but it was very nice meeting you.”
“You too, Ethyl.”
She wandered off, to the side of the building where there was an interior door. The cross at the front had lights shining on it and the Reverend, who’d put on a white dress, with a red and gold thing over his neck, waved at him.