An Unlikely Friendship

An Unlikely Friendship.

The man stands in the back, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers with a matching tie, away from everyone else, looking at the young adult he’d helped raise unwilling but willingly. He scratches his greying hair on his sideburns, passing his fingers through his few inches’ long black hair, scratching his undercut then fidgeting nervously when the name was called, of the person he came to see. His chest swelling with pride, nostrils flared when the young lad walks onto the stage and shook the older woman’s hand. He was proud he supposed in a way…at least he got something done right. He thought of how this unusual friendship all started when the high school graduate searched the crowd for him, despite knowing he won’t be among the seated parents and faculty.

It was almost four years back.

“You’re coming with me, you little shit,” the tired man heard as he passed the ajar doorway of the apartment next to him. Furrowing his forehead, he sticks his key into the doorknob and turns it, accustomed to his neighbour and his clients.

“Mikey!” The sound of the boy’s shriek is what stilled his movement, one foot already inside the door of his shabby place.

“Mikey” is not someone he normally affiliates with but the younger lad, he sometimes he took pity on for he knows when the boy is outside the door, that means the older man is entertaining. Not moving, he listens in and a loud crashing sound follows next. The boy screams again. “Mikeeey, tell him to stop, help me!”

It takes two seconds for his brain to comprehend the situation and he’s inside the dirty-smelling place, throwing a bulky man off the fourteen-year-old boy, who’s on his stomach across the old sofa armrest. His face has a red stain of a hand printed across it and the man could tell he had been hit.

Violence against a child. His insides boiled over.

Taking in the boy’s dishevelled appearance, he flattens the bulky man with one blow across his jaw, sending him to the floor in a bloody mess. Mickey sat on the floor bare-chested, legs stretched out in front of him, head bent with a length of rubber tied across his arm. The needle of an injection is retracting from his flesh. Mikey mutters, “Sorry James- I needed-”

“F*cking Chr*st,” the older man mutters. He knows the lifestyle of his neighbour but always minded his business and kept his opinions to himself. After all who is he to judge anyone?

Mikey is a junkie. A junkie and a prostitute.

James is either his brother or his son, the man couldn’t tell for Mikey could be anywhere from mid-twenties to almost forty- the drugs could be blamed for his weary look.

The boy is breathing heavily, eyes still wide but the scared look still on his face, standing now, looking at the man on the floor who is trying to get up but he’s unbalanced from the blow still, groaning in pain. James has tear streaks on his face and his shirt front indicated that he had been held roughly- the man dealt the predator another hard blow when he sees the wet spot on the boy’s pants.

Taking his mobile out of his pocket he makes a call. “Yeah, I got a scum. Free this time, come meet me upstairs.”

“Mi-mi-mister…” James doesn’t finish his sentence but his legs gave way beneath him.

Staring at the pig on the floor he furrows his eyebrows, twisting his head to better look at the man who was holding his left ear. He couldn’t help but wonder why someone who wore such expensive clothing was in a dump like this. He could certainly pay for a younger more attractive man than Mikey.

“Get the *ck out of here and mind your God-damn business, you f*cking freak!” the human-pig spits out.

The man understands why then- the pig had played Mikey. The scum had used the heroin addict to get to the boy. James had been his target and the druggie would do anything for a hit. His boots connect with the man’s head, over and over until two men enter and drag him off.

“Christ Henry, you’ll kill him,” the young arrogant-looking tatted man hisses, holding his arm while the other overweight one has his hands around Henry’s waist, struggling to keep him from hitting the man again.

“You don’t need him too lively,” Henry grunts as his boots swipe the air. “Get him the f*ck away from here.”

The men drag the bulky man out leaving a streak of blood. One man returned and went into the bathroom, coming back out with an old mop and bucket. He starts mopping the blood away.

Henry picks up the little boy like a baby and takes him over to his apartment and placed him on top of the closed toilet seat. “Bathe,” he commands, showing him a clean towel on the hanger. “Look the door,” he adds and picking up a half-full plastic bottle of bleach, he walks out to go help the man clean.

The next day he awakes to a light knock on his door.

It’s Mikey. Henry releases an exasperated sigh and the junkie follows him inside, his arms folded across his skinny chest. “Look, I just wanted to say thanks for-”

“Shut the f*ck up. Where’s James?” Henry suddenly swings around and Mikey halts his steps, pulling his head back, exaggeratingly.

“At school. Listen,” Mikey twists his mouth and raises on hand outward, palm up to the ceiling, fingers jutting out and back to his wrist as he spoke. “I don’t know who you think you are but you can’t just-”

“I’m the man that saved your ward from being r*ped while you were f*cked up.” It wasn’t the first time he had been there for James either. He had bought him food a few times in the past year he had been here. Even saved him from bullies once inside the convenience store, round the corner.

Mickey at least had the decency to look ashamed and he pulls in his lips, eyes to the floor.

“He’s my brother. Look, I promise this won’t happen again.”

He’d heard him say so before some weeks back. James had been crying and yelling but Henry hadn’t heard his saddened, angry words. Mikey had been crying too and he’s heard him say, “I promise, it’s the last time, I swear.”

Of course, he had minded his own business. But now, he wondered if the boy would be better off in an orphanage. He won’t be a fit role model…nevertheless he knew the boy might stand a better chance with a loser like him rather than those child m*lesters the government had put in place under the guise of caretakers for children.

Ah f*ck, the kid was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Since that time and during the next few years, James followed Henry around, leaving Mikey to his own messed-up life. A bond was formed between them and James even took to spending the night at times at the old man’s place when he had a test to study for because his brother was high as f*ck or entertaining again.

All Henry did was leave his door open since and an understanding formed between them, without the need for much words. Just a few grunts here and there with hand motions and gestures. A man’s world.

The older man never went to any parent/teacher meetings but he signed any document James needed. He became someone different. Taking James to cut his hair, and even purchasing clothing for him...something Henry never did- even for his own kids.

It made Henry gather the inner strength to visit his own family he’d abandoned but it was too late for him. His son wanted nothing to do with him. Henry could not make excuse for himself anymore- a teenage pregnancy…he abandoned the girl and the child convincing himself that he was too young to become a dad.

A poor excuse and he didn’t blame his son for the resentment he had towards him.

Laylah raised Alex on her own and Henry supposed he’d messed her life up as well for she never got married. He guesses he admired her for she did a super- great job- their son was everything Henry was not, in every way. Being raised in the system and being abused himself is no excuse to run on your own kid…James was his second chance to get it right.

At least Alex didn’t seem bitter and resentful towards his wife and child. He’d broken the poisoned cycle and Henry was proud of his strength. At least he hadn’t inherited his father’s weakness, he’d thought when he observed them from a distance in the play park. His grandson was the cutest thing he’d seen in his entire life.

James cooked and cleaned sometimes and Henry paid for the boy’s schooling- it was the least he could do. Besides when he dies which he will eventually, he could use the kid to bargain with his maker. He might have messed everything up with his own family but he did well by one…didn’t he?

Staring at James, he nodded his head when he caught his eyes and the boy grinned widely and waved. Something moved inside the old man’s chest- the way the kid smiled at him…like a kid would when their parents showed up.

He supposed on their twisted father-son duo, they did have a bond. Feeling accomplished, Henry turns and leaves. He spots Mikey walking toward him and he’s irritated- the man had never cleaned up his act. Henry was worried about James a bit- how would he survive his brother, now that he was leaving?