Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  Richard did not comment at first, but she glowered at the boys when she saw this ragged coughing fit. "Are you both IDIOTS?" A hand smacked her son in the back of the head, upsetting his already slipping glasses so that they went to the edge of his nose, and then slapped Vincent's forehead just as he began to straighten. "WHAT TYPE OF MORON DOES THIS IN THE RAIN? OR AT ALL?"

  "I do it all the time." Vincent mumbled indignantly, refusing to rub his stinging red mark like Rodriguez had degraded himself to doing. "It's a guy thing, Chief."

  "No. I've seen girls do it too…though, they were less…um…violent, I guess." Rodriguez added, hoping to save face.

  Finding the extra information to be irrelevant, the woman frowned and then bumped Vincent on the shoulder with her fist, hissing between her teeth when it caused him to cough. "And now look at you!" The teen flinched when she gestured angrily towards him, expecting to be hit again. "Now you're SICK! You two are…idiots! WHO does THIS in the RAIN?"

  Rodriguez hung his head in shame while Vincent coughed through a forming, slanted grin. He liked the Chief when she was mad. It was fun to watch.

  "Now we'll have to go home. We can't have him here sick! Leroy? What was going through your mind? You should have forced a bowl of soup down his throat and shoved him into bed! Not take him here! Bed, Rodriguez! Not a party! Not Wii!"

  As the woman continued to rant and berate her son, Vincent coughed with a content smile. Finally, he would get to go home. He snickered at her words. "So cruel, Chief. Stuffing down a whole bowl along with the soup would probably cure my sickness, yes…by killing me. Very nice strategy for healing a…" Vincent coughed when a shove was aimed at his ribs. He had to fall back a step to stay upright as Richard shook an impatient fist.

  "I swear you boys will put me in an early grave. How could two people be born so equally stupid, is beyond me." Richard sighed as she turned, her hand going to her pocket. The police woman patted it and groaned when she found that she had left her keys inside. Never mind the keys, she thought, and turned a steady eye on her fidgety child that towered over her, yet feared her bark. The woman was humored by the sight. "Alex, take him home."

  "My home. No more kidnappings… Not over the holidays." Vincent cut in, maintaining his mild grin as he looked at the vacant faces. "Rodriguez can drop me off at a street corner near my home…that'll be enough."

  Richard bit her the side of her mouth, watching the boy. She closed her eyes and took a conceding breath. "Fine, Vincentimir. Go home." She snapped, her eyes open, and threw a finger in his direction. "But I'll be by to check on you, and I better not find you passed out on the floor. You got that? Take care of yourself and contact us if you need something. There's no shame in needing assistance when you're ill."

  Vincent gazed down at her, his face a blank mask. "I need to go home, Chief. I'm not your puppy…" The woman's mouth twitched, but she turned to go back inside. "…I still have my uncle."

  That stopped her dead in her tracks for a moment. She struggled to compose herself with a poorly constructed cough and strode to the glass door. Richard yanked it open violently and then marched inside, letting the door close on its own. Her voice managed to squeeze out before it shut completely. "Go home Vincentimir."

  Rodriguez waited, distracted by the closing door, before he managed to stick his hand into one of his pants pockets. He pulled out his keys and tossed them in the air and caught them a few times, sighing. "Alright then. I guess I'll take you home, Vincent… Come on." He trudged through the layers of water that were scattered over the surface of the parking lot, with Vincent following behind him, and they made their way to the blonde boy's car. They didn't bother caring about the rain. They were already soaked through as it is.

  "Turn here?" Rodriguez glanced at Vincent for a second to make sure he was listening, and then he shifted his eyes back to the road.

  "Yeah." The hands that had so far remained in the boy's lap separated for a moment as Vincent pointed to Rodriguez's left. "Right down there…" The suspended finger bobbed a little as the car's tire dipped into a shallow pot-hole. With nothing to say or point to as the car turned, the hand returned to Vincent's lap. "Alright." One of his hands was already on the door handle as his gaze narrowed in on the street corner. "Let me out here." He unbuckled his seat belt, ready to get out of the car. It was drizzling at present, but the rain seemed to be dying away now and the clouds had thinned out so that glimpses of starlight could be spotted in the brief intervals of black sky.

  Unwillingly, Rodriguez slowed to a stop, watching as Vincent got out and caught the door before it managed to close.

  "Thanks for the ride…and for the rest, Rodriguez." Vincent shut the door and took a step back, waving a hand. "Bye." Came a muffled voice that Rodriguez frowned at. Vincent was beginning to frown as well when Rodriguez didn't leave. "Shoo, Rodriguez. Go on. Shoo."

  Rodriguez's car didn't move, and the engine continued to hum.

  With a glower brightening his eyes and twisting his mouth, Vincent's hand dropped by his side and clenched into a fist. "Go Rodriguez."

  The blonde bit his lip, then took a breath and let it out. He rolled down the window by pushing a button, not caring about the flecks of rain that misted the interior of his car afterwards. "Why don't you want me to see where you live? You do have a place, right? With your uncle?"

  "Yeah. I didn't lie, okay? Now go…" Vincent moved away from the curb in long, drawn out steps, headed towards the wall and the gloom that loitered lazily around its perimeter. "…Go home. If you park here someone's going to lift your hubcaps."

  The blacked haired boy pivoted and began to stride down the sidewalk with his hands shoved into his pockets, never looking back at the car that lingered behind him. Rodriguez didn't leave though he did close his window, resting an arm on his steering wheel as he watched to see where Vincent was going. In the distance, Vincent turned at a corner and was lost from sight. Chewing on his cheek as he debated on whether he should snoop around in Vincent's business or not, Rodriguez drove down the street, slowing when he came to the corner Vincent had turned on. He wasn't anywhere is sight. Bit by bit the high school jock turned the steering wheel, doubtful of his decision. Rodriguez drove down the scantily lit street, keeping an eye out for a sign of the other teen. There were a few shady characters that passed him odd looks when they saw his car.

  Ignore them, Rodriguez told himself, though the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end when he passed an obvious crack user, who, for her clothes, could possibly also be a…an…individual who…. No, he didn't want to think about that. Rodriguez cleared his throat and then took a deep, calming breath. He stopped abruptly, surprising the few eyes that were still watching him, and the green gaze shot to a specific building, to the stairs where he could see a rather familiar teen conversing with a short, middle-aged man. They appeared to be arguing, or at least the little man was. Vincent was standing perfectly still and Rodriguez couldn't see their expressions, though he heard the man's disruptive, one sided, dispute without understanding what he was saying. Then a hand shot out from the man and it jabbed Vincent in the chest, unsteadying the boy when he flinched. Because of their position on the stairs, it worried Rodriguez….especially when the man did it again and stepped closer to Vincent, obviously trying his best to intimidate the tall teenager. The voice became louder, but Rodriguez couldn't hear what it was saying…still.

  Without thinking, the boy took his keys from the ignition and pushed open his door, then rounded the back of his car, oblivious of the stares that were locked onto him and the needling cold that seeped into his damp clothes. As he got closer he could make out the heated words.

  "You ungrateful punk! You disappear for that long! Of COURSE I would know that you're trying to skip out on your damned rent! You're late! Again! … AGAIN! I should get the police on your sorry ass! Seize all of that crap you have stored in there and, maybe, if I sell it I can make half of what you owe me this month! And what about last month, eh?" A
hand caught Vincent's sweatshirt, but the boy's expression remained unchanged and he did nothing to oppose the false accusation, there was more truth than falsehood in the man's words. "Ya still owe me most of that too! Filthy…ugh!" He pushed away from Vincent, realizing how wet he was. "God! Disgusting! How can a human being live like this? Wet and filthy and doesn't even pay the rent! Scum! That's what I say! Destined to be trailer trash, scum!"

  Rodriguez was standing at the bottom stair, inspecting the situation like he had just discovered it. He leveled his voice, making it as hard and sure as he could manage. "Hey… Is there a problem?" His hand was on the thick wooden rail, so he tapped it casually with his fingers, to feign forming impatience. The little man was staring at him, too puzzled to find a way to confront the stranger, while Vincent shot the boy a look full of contempt, one that resembled the way Vincent had looked at Rodriguez's friends at school. He was quiet while the short man squinted at Rodriguez and then Vincent, then Rodriguez again as he pointed at Vincent.

  "Ya know him? Do ya? Cuz, that'd be great!" He sneered and the pointing hand opened, indicating Vincent as the boney, sun browned man laughed. "He owes me money, you know. You got money to pay for this punk? Eh?"

  Rodriguez didn't say anything and his hand stilled on the railing. The little man's face deadened. Then he snarled.

  "THEN GET OUT OF HERE! GET YA ASS, OUT!" The back of the man's hand patted Vincent on the arm, belittling the boy as he continued to glare at the blonde stranger. "You either pay for him, or you mind your own business!"

  "Stop yelling at him." Rodriguez narrowed his eyes and squeezed the railing, blood draining from his knuckles.

  The man paused, taken aback momentarily, and then he let out a low, wheezing howl of offensive hilarity, cackling to himself. "It's my business to yell at my tenants, buddy. They don't pay, I don't get paid." He smiled an oily, leering smile and patted Vincent's arm friendlily, smug as he was able to do this without so much as a frown or a complaint from the pale teen. "This is my business. None of yours…got that?"

  Rodriguez kept his glare, staying where he had planted his feet in front of the stairs. Humor faded from the man and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, throwing Rodriguez a good hard look. "Hey, punk…you know this guy or is he a total wack-job I should call the cops on?" He spoke to Vincent while he kept his squinting eyes on Rodriguez, frowning as he took notice of the stranger's height.

  "…Don't know him…" Vincent responded dully and turned to go up the rest of the stairs. Rodriguez stiffened for a moment and then clenched his teeth, watching the back ascend the stairs.

  "Vincent. You know you can just come back with me…you don't have to stay here if you don't want to." He called up to the figure that stopped in mid step and didn't turn around.

  The little man was peering curiously up at Vincent as he observed this response. Then he grinned. "Oh yeah? I didn't know you had a name, punk… Still rather call ya Street-shit, ya know? No hard feelings, punk?" He snickered and swung around to look down at Rodriguez's wide expression, his grin stretching to a disgusting length. He ducked his head and then threw it back, laughing madly.

  Suddenly the man left his amusement and lunged up the stairs, catching the back of the black sweatshirt. He yanked on it as hard as he could. Vincent's shoes slipped and he staggered down a few steps, until he was two below the man's current position. They were almost at eyelevel now as the little man snarled at the pale face. "Ya don't make rent! Ya smell like filth! And now ya lie to me! Punk! Give me one reason why I shouldn't get the cops down here RIGHT now!" He shook Vincent the best he could. It was a pathetic attempt, but he did not see this as he continued. "Why'd you lie to me, Street-shit? Why, you ungrateful, worthless punk! EH? GONNA SPEAK NOW?"

  "Hey!" Rodriguez went up a few steps, but he stopped when Vincent twisted away from the hands and snarled down at him.

  "Get out of here! I told you to go! Just leave!" Vincent hissed, his eyes shining with rage, masking the self mortification that was battling to beat down his remaining pride. "GO HOME!"

  The man was taken aback by the show of aggression, but then he smiled and clapped his hands, delighted with the entertainment. "That's the most I've ever gotten out of you. Where'd ya learn to talk so good all of a sudden, eh?" He snickered again and patted the boy on the back, leaving him to go down the stairs. He passed Rodriguez a wide smile, but he spoke to Vincent. "I'll be getting my money sooner or later, punk…you can't go anywhere without your crap, now…can ya?" He laughed and walked around Rodriguez who couldn't do anything else but glare at the man. When the teen looked up the stairs, he found that Vincent had disappeared. There was the sound of a door slamming, then it was quiet. Gradually, voices and other sounds made themselves known from the different rooms. Rodriguez lingered there, unable to figure out what he should do. There wasn't anything that didn't have consequences attached to it, so the teen turned and walked back to his car, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he bit his lip and scowled at the ground. He kicked a piece of litter into the street and then got into his car. As he left, the empty bag moved a bit over the surface of the puddle before it sank as water climbed over its side, tipping it down into its murky depths.

  Rodriguez went back the next day, driving his mother when she announced that they were going to check on Vincent to see how he was managing his cold. They got up to the second level, and then paused as they looked down the length of the cement walk way. Their eyes swept from window to window, door to door as they passed by them and reached the end. They stopped again, and turned, looking at the doors. "You know for a fact that he lives up here?"

  Rodriguez didn't look at his mom, but he nodded. They were quiet for a time.

  "Vincentimir!" Richard waited, ignoring the flinch that came from Rodriguez, glaring up and down the line of doors. She sighed, scowling when she knew that they couldn't do much more on their own. "Do you know where the land lord is? Who's in charge?"

  Rodriguez's mind went back to the night before and he shook his head. "I didn't see where he went. It was dark."

  The woman gave a harder sigh and went down the hallway, then descended the stairs as Rodriguez followed behind her. "I'll find out who that guy is and I'll get him to show us where…"

  "No." Rodriguez interrupted her, dreading another conflict, especially one where his mother was involved. He knew his mother would have a hard time controlling her temper. "Don't cause trouble... I did enough of that last night."

  They were quiet when they reached the bottom of the stairs, sharing the single thought. Without a word, they returned to Rodriguez's car and left.

  Richard sighed, muttering something about her stupid children drinking all of the eggnog as she got out of the car with Rodriguez apologizing behind her. He closed the door and tried to catch up with her long strides. "I didn't finish it off! I promise! I left you some!"

  Richard shrugged. "Sure, Alex."

  "No. Really! I did!"

  She ignored him this time and walked up to the grocery store, leaving the parking lot behind. The ringing bell of the donation collecting Santa sounded in her ear, causing her to wince but at the same time wonder if she had any extra change in her pockets. No. But she would if she paid for the eggnog in cash. She pulled on her jacket as she suppressed a shiver. It was getting pretty cold at night.

  Rodriguez walked by the ringing bell, glancing up absently. Then he paused, slowing as he saw the sun glasses that seemed rather out of place, given the time and the person's uniform. He gazed at the thin Santa with the extremely white skin and the red gloved fist that jerked up to cover a cough. Rodriguez stopped and stared, dumbfounded.

  "Vincent?"

  Richard started and turned around as the glass doors slid open when she stepped on the black mat sitting in front of them. The Santa had become rigid, bell in mid air, mouth hanging open in horror as the sunglasses reflected Rodriguez's expression of amazement.

  "Oh shit!" Santa spun and ran into the immediate wall, then pus
hed away and made to dash down the sidewalk, but Rodriguez caught up with him only after a few yards. The skinny Santa was forced against a pillar as he fought desperately to get away, cussing and hissing. Richard walked around the wall Vincent had run into, and watched as the struggle against the rough plaster covered pillar intensified and then died down. She stared as she came up to the pillar and stood next to the snarling red figure. "Hey!" Santa called to a random person that had stopped to watch. "Hey you! Can't you tell Santa's gettin' killed here? Hey! No! Don't go inside, damn you! Freaken bastard!"

  "So Vincentimir…you work at the North Pole now?" Richard smirked at her lame joke as well as the frown she received. She took off the sunglasses, revealing the aggravated red eyes.

  "I'm trying to get a job here…if they see this they'll never consider giving me a job." He muttered and shook off Rodriguez as the tan hands eased their grip. Vincent brushed off the red uniform, checking for any wear and tear he might have caused on the cloth. Nothing was found, so he relaxed, fixing his red hat as he composed himself, and then returned his attention to the smug looks he was receiving. "What?" He grumbled and stubbornly went back to his post by the donations stand, still holding his bell which was turned upward to prevent it from making a racket as he moved around. The two followed, and Rodriguez laughed a little as he stood before the pissed off Santa while his mother played smugly with the dark sunglasses in her hands. Vincent scowled at his feet, trying to muster some motivation to ring the bell again.

  "I can't believe you're dressed up as Santa." Rodriguez chuckled while the boy glowered at him. Suddenly, the bell starting ringing in Rodriguez's face, the sound piercing his ears and forcing him back. Vincent stopped when Rodriguez had been effectively punished and he switched his attention over to Richard.