Mean Little People

by Dearth, Paige

  “Sure, we’ll see if he’s got any ideas. But there ain’t no fuckin’ way that I’ll be able to stay at his house. Johnny Morano don’t like me too much. I can tell.”

  “Whata ya talkin’ about, Tony? Johnny likes ya.” Vincent lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “Ya saved Salvatore from going to jail. How can’t he like ya?”

  “It doesn’t matter to him what I did. Your ma said I got two weeks, so I gotta find a place to go. Maybe my father will let me live back in my old house again.”

  “Yeah! Maybe. That’s a good point. We should go over and see your ma in the morning after your father goes to work,” Vincent said, excited about a possible solution.

  “Nah, you go to school. I’m gonna go over there by myself. I gotta do this on my own.”

  Tony and Vincent went up the stairs and into the bedroom. Tony walked over to Vincent’s bed and dropped back on it, and Vincent plopped down next to him.

  “I heard everything ya said to your ma. You’re a good friend, Vincent.”

  “We’re best friends, Tony. I ain’t never gonna forget that. We’ll always be best friends,” Vincent said with conviction.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The next morning, shortly after his father left for work, Tony knocked on the front door of his house. Teresa opened it slowly. Her swollen lip quivered when she saw her son. The sadness and defeat in her eyes gave Tony his answers.

  “Hi, Ma. Vincent’s ma called ya last night, right?”

  Teresa pulled Tony just inside the front door and drew him into her arms. “Yeah, she called. I tried to talk to your father about you comin’ back home.” Teresa lowered her head, and shame hung over her like a storm cloud waiting to erupt. “He got real upset wit’ me.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” he said, looking at her bruises. “It don’t matter anyway; I found a place to live.”

  “Ya did?”

  “Yeah, Ma. I called one of the guys I met in juvie, and his parents said I can stay wit’ ’em for a while. Ya ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he lied.

  Teresa hugged Tony tighter. “I’m sorry I can’t be a better mother to ya. And I’m sorry that your father is so hardheaded.”

  “Yeah, I know, he’s a big asshole.”

  “Tony Bruno, ya watch your language. Ya never let that good-for-nothing bast…I mean your father, get under your skin.”

  Tony smirked. “I gotta go, but I need ya to do me a favor. The kid I’m gonna stay wit’ don’t live too close to here, so I gotta go to the school near him. Can ya call my school and let ’em know I won’t be comin’ back? Just tell ’em I moved in with an uncle or somethin’.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that. Now where exactly are ya stayin’?”

  “I don’t know the address, but I talked to my friend on the phone. I’ll still meet ya at the park every week, though, so we can see each other. Don’t worry ’bout me, Ma; I’m gonna be fine.”

  “OK. I feel better about it knowing that I’ll see ya at the park.” Teresa leaned over and grabbed her purse from a table near the front door. “Here, ya take this money. Ya gotta have somethin’ in your pocket. It’s all the money I got right now.”

  Tony grabbed the small bundle of one-dollar bills, eight in total. “Thanks, Ma. I’ll see ya later in the week at our spot. Try and stay out of Dad’s way. I swear, I wanna beat the hell outta him for hittin’ ya like he does.”

  “How your father treats me ain’t your problem. Ya just focus on gettin’ yourself to your new friend’s house and get settled. You’re a good boy, Tony. Someday you’re gonna be a great man—ya remember I told ya that.”

  With a final hug, mother and son parted. Tony walked down the front steps, and as he walked down his block, he wondered, where will I go now?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Two weeks later, Tony grabbed his plastic trash bags filled with his clothes and left Vincent’s house. He stood at the front door with Vincent and his mother, Maria.

  “I’m sorry, Tony. I just can’t afford another mouth to feed.”

  “It’s OK. Ya know we talked about all this, and I’ll be fine,” Tony said. “I appreciate ya lettin’ me stay here for all this time.”

  Vincent moved forward and gave Tony a hug. “When am I gonna see ya? Ya ain’t goin’ to our school no more, and ya won’t be livin’ in the neighborhood. It makes me feel like shit.”

  “What are ya talkin’ ’bout? I’ll see ya. I’ll be around. Somebody gotta keep you and Salvatore in line,” Tony joked.

  “Yeah, but it ain’t gonna be the same wit’out ya here.” Vincent lowered his head; he didn’t want Tony to see his eyes welled with tears.

  Tony put his arm around Vincent’s shoulder and squeezed. “I gotta go. I’ll see ya soon. I promise.”

  Tony left quickly. He walked to the empty lot where he’d been hanged from a tree by his now–best friend, Vincent. As he entered the lot, he remembered his mother’s stories about the googamongers. When he was young, he’d been so scared of the unknown creatures that ate children. Now, knowing that the googamongers never existed, his heart felt damaged thinking about how cruel real people can be.

  Tony schlepped his bags into the first floor of the abandoned building. He looked around him. The downstairs rooms were empty. The old wallpaper hung in shreds, and the hardwood floor was coated in a thick layer of dirt. He found stairs in the back of the building and followed them up to the second floor. Six doors were on either side of the narrow hallway, old entries to apartments. The only remnants of the people who had once lived here were random stoves and toilets.

  In some apartments, there were blankets and stained pillows—Tony’s confirmation that some of the people he’d followed slept there. He continued to the third floor. There were six more apartments. Tony crept through the building to an apartment in the far back corner. He pushed the creaky door open. There were openings in the walls where glass had once shielded the inside from the outside. Years of tree debris was scattered over the floor, thanks to the wind that carried unwanted limbs and leaves inside the building. Tony laid his plastic bags on the floor and sat next to them. He pulled his knees to his chin.

  “I am the googamonger. I guess my ma was right—the googamonger did eat me, and now I am one,” he said aloud.

  Tony left his belongings and headed down to the Italian Market. He still had the eight dollars his mother had given him, and he needed to make the most of it. He bought half-rotted fruit from a vendor. Then he made his way over to a bakery. A bell over the door chimed as he entered the store. The short Italian woman behind the counter looked toward the door, and her eyes washed over him.

  “How can I help ya?”

  “I need to buy some bread or something. I need, um, do you have any that’s a couple days old for cheaper?”

  The woman put her hands on her hips. “I’ve seen ya in the market before. Your ma send ya here?”

  Tony shook his head. “No. I’m livin’ wit’ my uncle now, and we need some food.”

  “OK,” the woman said. “Come over here and pick somethin’ out.”

  As Tony was looking at all the breads and pastries, a younger girl limped out from the back of the store. As she got closer, Tony noticed the sneaker on the end of her fake leg peeking out of the bottom of her skirt. He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help himself. He was fascinated. The girl, who looked to be about nine, smiled at Tony as she gimped over to her grandmother.

  “This is my granddaughter, Ruth.”

  “Hi, Ruth.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Tony.”

  “Nice to meet cha, Tony. This is my grandma; her name is Donata,” Ruth said with a smile that warmed his heart. “How come ya look so sad?” she asked innocently.

  “I ain’t sad. I just gotta buy some stuff and get home,” Tony responded.

  “Well, ya look sad to me,” Ruth said as she limped past him and went back behind the counter.

  Tony turned to the woman.
“Is this all old stuff? I don’t have a lot of money.”

  “Just go ahead and pick somethin’ out. I ain’t got all day.”

  “How much for that big loaf of pepperoni bread?”

  Donata removed it from the counter and wrapped it in brown paper. She handed the loaf to Tony.

  “How much do I owe ya?” he asked.

  “This one is on the house. If ya need more, ya come back and see me, and we’ll figure out a price that works,” she said, giving Tony a sympathetic smile.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Tony started to walk out of the store but stopped short before leaving. “Hey, Donata?”

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  “Thanks for the bread. I won’t forget how nice ya been.” He looked at the little girl. “I’ll see ya around, Ruth.”

  The old woman gave Tony a sorrowful look. “Yeah, sure, that’s what they all say. Now go on home to your uncle’s. Ya be safe—ya hear me?”

  Ruth waved and called out, “Bye Tony. See ya again real soon.”

  Tony thought about Ruth and her grandmother as he walked back to the abandoned building, just a few blocks from where his family lived. Something horrible had happened to the little girl, Ruth, something that made her less than perfect. She had a physical defect, yet she had so much more than he did. Ruth had the love of her grandmother, a place to live, and food to eat. Ruth was happy, and in a small way her vibrant spirit had touched Tony dramatically, and that made him feel a little better about himself. It was his first day on his own, and he’d found a place to live temporarily and had already made two new friends. He hoped that Ruth and her grandmother were a sign that his life was about to get better.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  When Tony got back to his place in the abandoned building, he opened the brown paper and pulled off a piece of the pepperoni bread. He gobbled it down and then ate one apple from his bag of fruit. He sat alone with only the sound of the almost-bare trees rustling outside.

  Tony was thinking about the night that Officer Zody had raped him in the shower. His stomach tightened, and it felt as though the food he had eaten was spinning in his belly.

  “Who the fuck are you?” a man yelled.

  Tony stood quickly and faced a man with long, greasy, black-and-gray hair. The man was as tall as Tony, and his clothes hung from his body, making him appear even thinner than he was. The man glared at him with authority.

  “Ya own the place?” Tony said.

  “No, but this is where a bunch of us live sometimes. We don’t need no more freeloaders. Ya get me?” the angry man said.

  “Look, Mister. I need a place to stay. I ain’t got nowhere else to go. Besides, if ya don’t own the place, then ya don’t get to make the rules,” Tony said with cautious bravery.

  The man looked at Tony’s belongings, and his eyes stopped on the bag of fruit. Tony saw the look of hunger, and he suddenly had a stroke of guilt.

  “Ya hungry?” Tony said.

  “Yeah. I ain’t eaten nothin’ since yesterday mornin’.”

  Tony unwrapped the brown paper and ripped off a hunk of pepperoni bread. He handed it to the man, who snatched it from Tony’s hand and bit off a large piece.

  “Don’t think ’cause ya gave me a piece of bread it’s gonna change anythin’. Ya can’t be stayin’ up in here. Lots of grown people squat in this buildin’, and there ain’t no room for little boys.”

  “Listen, Mister—I ain’t no little boy. I’ll be fourteen in a couple of weeks. I’ve been through a lot of bad shit in my life, and I don’t want no shit from you,” he growled.

  The man chuckled until he was in a full belly laugh.

  “What the fuck are ya laughin’ at?” Tony yelled.

  “Ya ain’t old enough to even know what bad shit life can bring your way. You remember what I just said—lots of grownups squattin’ here, and ain’t none of ’em gonna want a kid around.” The man turned to leave. “What’s your name, kid?”

  “Tony,” he said solemnly.

  “Well, Tony, I’m Erikson. If ya wanna stay safe tonight, I suggest ya sleep wit’ your back to the door. That way ya know if someone is coming in on ya.”

  Erikson noticed that Tony’s demeanor didn’t change throughout their exchange. Tony wasn’t some kid who had just ran away from home, and his instincts told him there was truth behind his comments about having a troubled life. That night, without Tony knowing, Erikson slept in the hall just outside of the door where Tony was staying, to watch over him.

  In the morning, Tony shoved his bags and food into the corner of a doorless closet in the bedroom. As he walked through the hallway, he could see there were other people lying on the floor. He wondered how he’d been lucky enough to make it through the night without someone trying to share the space he was staying in. He brushed off the thought and started down the stairs. When he was on the second floor, there were people in the hall.

  “Hey, no fuckin’ kids allowed here!” an angry woman grumbled.

  “Yeah,” her husband chimed in. “There are other places for kids to go. Don’t be takin’ up our space.”

  “But I need somewhere to stay too. Ya ain’t the boss here. So just leave me alone,” Tony said.

  “I’m the boss if I say I’m the boss,” the woman retorted.

  The woman stomped down the hall toward Tony, and he backed up against the wall. Even though she was a woman, he was prepared to defend himself if he had to. Then, Tony saw a man quickly follow her. Tony’s limbs tingled as he eyed the large white man rushing at him.

  “Whoa!” Erikson shouted and ran to stand next to Tony. “Leave the boy alone. He ain’t doin’ nobody no harm.”

  “Shut up, Erikson, ya fuckin’ dopehead. Ya high again?” Sadie accused.

  “Fuck you, Sadie. Ya ain’t the boss of nobody here, and ya know it. Right, fellas?”

  Some of the other homeless men who had gathered in the hallway to watch, nodded. Others shook their heads and went back into their rooms, not wanting any trouble.

  “We all agreed when we started comin’ here that we ain’t gonna have no kids in this place. Kids invite trouble, and trouble invites cops,” Sadie argued.

  “I know what we all decided, Sadie. Ya ain’t gotta remind me. Just remember that I was the one who brought you and Kevin here in the first place. If it wasn’t for me, ya woulda froze to death last winter. I say this kid is different. We need to give ’im a chance,” Erikson said.

  Sadie cocked her hip to one side and pointed in Erikson’s face. “If he stays, then he’s your problem. If the cops come here, I’ll make sure that nobody lets you back in. Don’t give a flyin’ fuck if ya brought me and Kevin here or not. It’s already gettin’ cold outside, and the rest of us need to be able to stay here to get through the winter.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll take care of the kid. He’ll stay wit’ me,” Erikson said defiantly.

  “That’s fine wit’ us, but if ya want ’im to stay, then ya can stay upstairs in that apartment. There ain’t no room for ’im down here,” Sadie said.

  “Ya know, Sadie, ya can be a real bitch when ya wanna be. That’s fine. I’ll stay up in 3F wit’ ’im. I ain’t scared. I don’t believe none of that shit anyway,” Erikson said loudly to make sure that everyone heard him. He turned to Tony. “Come on, kid. Let’s go get some fresh air.”

  When Tony and Erikson were outside, they walked a few blocks in silence.

  “What’s wrong wit’ the apartment I’m stayin’ in?”

  As the two kept walking, Erikson gazed over at Tony with his large, piercing blue eyes.

  “People think that apartment is haunted. There was a couple and their two kids that got murdered in that apartment ’bout fifteen years ago. After the crazy fucker killed ’em, he cut their heads off and hung ’em from the shower curtain bar.” Erikson looked up into the sky. “The kids’ heads too. They never caught who killed ’em, never understood why he did it neither. The sick bastard left a note, though. It said, ‘All child
ren who live here will die here.’”

  Tony stopped and gave Erikson a baffled look. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

  “There’s more,” Erikson said. “The reason why all the tenants moved out in a hurry is ’cause after that family was killed, a woman and her eight-year-old son moved in. They didn’t know nothin’ ’bout the murders that happened. The news people don’t tell ya ’bout the murders where the poor people live. Anyway, that woman and her son disappeared a couple of days after they moved in.”

  “Maybe they just left,” Tony offered.

  “They found all their fingers shoved in a plastic bag hangin’ over the kitchen sink. Twenty fingers in all, ten big ones and ten tiny ones. After that the owner had to close the building—landlord couldn’t rent an apartment. All the tenants moved out real fast. None of the homeless people will sleep in 3F.” Erikson paused, letting the gruesome details sink in.

  “It ain’t so cold right now, but in the next month it’s gonna get freezin’. You and me are gonna need to board up those windows. We gotta get some paint so we can make the boards black; otherwise someone will notice that we put wood in ’em.”

  “Are ya afraid to stay in that apartment?” Tony said.

  “Nah. I ain’t afraid of much. I’ve been wandering these streets for the past ten years. “This here…” Erikson said, gesturing around him, “this is my playground. It’s my home. This is where I belong. I’ve been sleeping in that apartment building for the past six winters. I call it my winter getaway.”

  “Your winter getaway just got moved to apartment 3F wit’ me. Sorry ‘bout that, Erikson. I didn’t wanna cause ya any trouble. I just needed a place to stay for a while is all.”

  “How long is a while, kid?”

  “I don’t know. I hope only a few weeks, maybe a month. I ain’t exactly thrilled about livin’ in some old building that ain’t got no heat or runnin’ water—I can tell ya that much.”

  Erikson grabbed Tony’s shoulder. “We need to get somethin’ to eat. Ya might be just the thing I needed. A young buck like yourself will make a lot more beggin’ than I ever can.”