Please remember as I post none of this has been revised. You are getting raw stuff here. I would love comments, and I am not afraid of critiques.
Chapter 1
The noise in the apartment succeeded in drowning out the mess of clothes, magazines and junk that screamed from every corner. Wesley bobbed in unison with the rattling dishes sitting on the speaker. The Dubstep mix playing shot him into overdrive, even the dripping sweat didn’t slow him down. He opened his eyes as that mix ended and looked surprised to see Farrah’s face light up in the open front door. The next track burst to life, and he watched Farrah laughing. Her quick morphing face then turned into an intense stare and she began head banging. Wesley clicked off the stereo and took the closest soft object, a hot pink stuffed monkey, and threw it at her.
“Hey, hasn’t anyone ever told you mockery is like flattery or something.” Farrah said.
“Hasn’t anyone told you that you should never make fun of your older brother because he will always be bigger and.” Wesley stopped mid-sentence and ran after Farrah. She darted for the bathroom, the only room in the tiny apartment with a lock. Farrah grabbed for the door, closing herself in, but it shuttered to a stop about 4 inches before she could finish it off, and press in the lock.
“Owe.” Wesley yelled.
Farrah looked down to see Wes’s bare foot lodged into the doorway. “Oh, Wes I am sorry.”
“No you’re not, but you will be.”
“Hey not fair! Not fair faker.” She screamed.
Wes ran in, put her on the ground and began tickling her sides and underarms.
“Wes, Wes stop” she managed to wheeze out between laughing and trying to breath.” I need to pee, you will make me pee my pants.”
“Nasty.” Wes got up and left her in the bathroom.
Farrah locked the door. “See I can fake too.”
“Don’t forget who feeds you.” He retorted.
His last words reminded him, he needed to feed her tonight. He knew not to even try looking in the fridge, the cavernous hollow would only echo back at him. He lied to himself and pictured opening the cupboards and having boxes of food spill down on him. When he actually opened the cupboard he saw the 2 can of stewed tomatoes and the one bag of oriental noodles.
“Why are you looking in there? It is Thursday; Maggie’s making dinner for us.”
Relief soothed Wes’s worried complexion. “Oh I know,” he lied “I was just seeing what I needed to get tomorrow from the store.”
“Okay well I am going to do my homework. You want me to remind you when it is time to go? You know Maggie is Queen of punctuality.”
“Yeah and wear something nice, last week she asked if you ever wore anything besides my old shirts.”
“Oh, okay.”
Homework was a ritual; it was the one constant that Farrah had, it kept her mind off of their current situation. It was much easier to work out 7th grade pre-algebra then to wonder if she would ever see her mom again, and if her mother ever did come back, what she would say for abandoning them. Farrah looked up at the clock and stretched. “Wes, it is time to go.”
“I know I just finished my application, for that new job. I really think I can get it. Dinner at Moe Moe’s if I get it.” Saying that put a cramp in his stomach, he had forgotten Moe Moe’s was the last place they ate as a whole family. Not this charade they had been playing this last year, a real family.
“Yeah sounds good.”
Did she not even remember, he thought to himself? She was not upset at all by his comment.
“Hey, earth to Wes, let’s go, I am starving.”
Maggie’s apartment was one floor down. They walked the outside steps towards Maggie’s apartment, the crisp October air bit at their faces, and helped rush them even more than the fear of Maggie’s irritation.
Maggie opened the door with a pleased smile, and then she looked down at Farrah, took one quick glance at her hand me down Volcom sweatshirt and sighed while her eyes rolled. Farrah saw her eyes, looked at Wes and mouthed sorry. Wes just gave a reassuring glance. He didn’t like her feeling bad about this. He knew she had grown out of everything she had before her mother left. She even needed a bra, but her didn’t know how to tell her, or know how they could afford it.
Maggie’s house smelled like old cheap perfume. The kind you would smell in thrift store clothes or at a retirement home. Her house unlike theirs was tidy and organized. Everything seemed to be in shades of blue. Even her cat Mr. Bibbles looked like he was a pale blue grey.
“Thank you for being on time, I am so glad, go on in sit at the table. I made stuffed cabbage.”
Even the strong smell of baking cabbage was not enough to drown out the perfumed apartment.
It didn’t bother Farrah she visited here often, when Wes was working, or said he was working and really was going over to Apt. 2-E, where Tabitha, a 24 year old, lived alone. She knew Tabitha and Wes were not serious but she also caught them going at it in their living room one time. Wes had forgotten it was a half day. Farrah knew what they did and she didn’t like Tabitha because of it.
“So Farrah how did your test go today?” Maggie asked with sincerity.
“I think I did well, all the dates we went over were on the test, but I don’t know about the written part because Mrs. Pillsner doesn’t always understand my answers; well that’s what she says.”
“Good, and you Wesley, how is the search for the second job going?”
“Well I just filled out an application to help out at a travel agency in town.”
“Oh that would be exciting, what about your mom?”
Wes hated this question, it came up every week. He didn’t understand why, she was not stupid, senile, or on drugs, she should know their mom was not coming back, it had been over a year. Who even knew if she was alive.
“Same.” Came out short and stern.
“Alright let’s eat.”
Dinner would have probably made most kids gag, but going hungry for days at a time changed the way food tasted. Everything tasted great. They ate 4 rolls each and Maggie handed them a container 8 more to go. Maggie was always good for left overs. She had raised 10 children, they knew this from the same stories she would tell them. You can eat cheap she would say, I raised 10 children by myself after Samuel died, just got to be smart with your money. As they began to leave, Maggie stopped Wes in the doorway. “You run along Miss Farrah. Now Wesley Milton Marsh you have got to get that girl dressed in girl clothes.”
“I know Maggie, I just don’t make enough, I am trying, my check and the social security check bearly cover rent.” I am trying Maggie.
“I know you are.” She said. Her face grew weary. “Wesley you take this then” she handed him $40.00. “You get her new winter clothes and a backpack. Social Services will be at your door if she keeps dressing the way she is. I don’t want to see you split up.”
“I can’t Maggie, I know you don’t have a lot and you already feed us once a week, I can’t take.”
“I knew you were going to say that. I thought of what you can do for me. You see this.” She walked back into the house, Wes followed with curiosity. She went to her bedroom, and pulled out an ugly landscape canvas, the kind you could get at a swap meet for $5.00. “Re-paint it, I see how good you are, I want a beach picture, where the blue water meets the blue sky. You see this $40.00 is not being given to you. You must earn it.”
“Maggie you really want me to paint you something? I will take it, but you have to really want it, don’t say you want it just because you want to give us money.”
“Boy, I have wanted a painting by you since I saw the portrait you did of Farrah, I was hoping you would just give me one. Why do you think I have been feeding you all this time? I know you are going to be famous and I want in on the ground floor. I guess my food wasn’t good enough, but maybe my money is.” Her eyes disappeared as she smiled at him. This made Wesley feel proud, even though he knew she was still just trying to give them money. He knew she really did believe in him, and he wouldn’t let her down.
“Okay Maggie you got a deal.” He held his hand out. She took it as if to shake it but instead pulled him in close for a hug.
“I am giving you 2 weeks. Is that long enough?”
“Yes, Maggie. I have a favor to ask you though.”
“What is it.”
“Can you come with us to get clothes, Farrah needs a bra and I don’t.”
“Say no more, Saturday okay?”
“Yes thank you, I don’t go into Burger Hut until 4p.m. so that would be good.”
“See you at my door, and 9 sharp then Mr. Marsh.”
“Bye Maggie.”
The two twenties that curled in Wes’s pockets while he slept left him sleeping better, a little more secure and the food that filled his belly left him comforted and gassy. He almost slept through the loud banging.
Bang Bang the front door rattled with the force. “Open up now said an unfamiliar deep voice.” “Open up now!”
By this time Farrah had come into Wes’s room. Her face was molded into fear itself. “Wes, who is that?” Wes looked at her still waking from his sound slumber. Looked at Farrah and thought of how silly she looked in her pajamas. The flannel pants were high waters, and the tank top showed her outy belly button. It was only the voice that came next that shocked Wes out of it.
“Honies open the …door. It’s Mo…mmy.” The accent, the sluggish tone, and awkward pauses, meant it was their mother.
“What the hell, Farrah hide under my bed don’t come out!”
“But it is Mom, and she ran for the door.”
“No Farrah!”
It was too late the she flung the door open. “Farrah.” Her mother said in the native way, sounding more like Far-Rah than Fair-Uh. Then a big man pushed Sabeen, their mother and Farrah to the side.
“Where is it Bean.” He said.
Sabeen kissed every inch of Farrah’s face before she looked up to answer the large dark man.
“Where is Wes honey.”
“I am here he said with a large baseball bat in hand.”
“Wesley, I have missed you. You see I have been busy so.”
“Busy? Busy mom? Busy is working late, busy is forgetting an appointment, or to pack a lunch. Busy is not missing for over a year. Busy is not leaving your kids to fend for themselves. Busy is not stealing everything valuable we have, even Dad’s metals and pawning them to get high. That is a lot of things but busy is not the right word.”
“I know I am sorry, you see my friend here needs some money. I owe him so I need to pay now and I need those checks that have been coming, those social security checks.”
“What? Mom how do you think we live? What do we eat? How do we stay in this apartment? Really you think you can just walk in and take the only money we have?”
“That money is mine, it is addressed to me. Not you that is my money.” All the sweetness, that was in her voice before was gone. The kisses she had lathered all over Farrah now felt like sour milk on her face.
“Mom, you just want money?” Farrah said, words choking in her throat and tears streaming down her long face.
“No Farrah, I want to see you but I need to pay my friend back.”
“You said there would be money here Bean, there is no money here.” Then the giant of a man, 6’6’’ at least 250 pounds back handed Sabeen’s face. “You are a lying whore.” She didn’t hear this. She was knocked out.
“Get the hell out of my house!” Wes said in the most intimidating voice he had ever had.
“Kid I am done with that whore, you aint got shit I need.” He turned and walked out the open door.
“Farrah, why did you open the door?” Farrah looked up at Wes, her eyes flickered, as light danced across her tears. “Let’s get her on the couch.”
When Farrah finally fell asleep, in his bed, he too tried to fall asleep. The full stomach that was comforting just hours before was now contorting in grief, fear, and anger. Wes didn’t understand why she came back. They were making it without her. They didn’t need her. He needed her away. She would just hurt Farrah, she would just remind him of what he was missing. He missed his mother. Not this shell of a spun out heroin addict on the couch. He missed his mother, the one who would make traditional Iraqi food and tuck them in at night, and sing while she cleaned the house. The women she was before his father died in that accident. He had to stop himself. This is where he always lost it, he could not think of his dad. He could not do it. He got out bed and walked out of the apartment. He wondered if Tabitha would answer the 2:30 a.m. knock. She did, she was up and more than eager to invite him in.
The night air was frosty when Wes left Tabitha’s. He could feel his snot turning to jagged piercing ice in his nostrils. When he got in, he saw his mother was not on the couch where he left her. A small part of him hoped she was home to stay, to be a mom again, but he knew better.
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