What a start

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the first in a series of short stories I'm going to write. The series will be about a down in his luck man who befriends a homeless autistic teenage with the ability to see peoples fate.

Submitted: November 28, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 28, 2011




The day started off like most days, Tony being awoken from a dream by the relentless pounding on his room door.  As his body started to come to grips with it being abruptly thrown into consciousness, his senses came to life.  He grimaced as his nose was filled with the smell of stale beer and sweat from the nightly gigs his boss, Red, holds from underground bands and accountants having a midlife crisis in the unrealistic manifestation of the dream his high school band, usually with a shock value name, would make it big.  He opened his eyes to a beam of golden sunlight cracking though his broken and boarded up bedroom window.  He turned on his bedside lamp to illuminate the room in the back of Big Red's; he was allowed to stay in, in lieu of rent on the condition he was at Red's beckon call 24 hours a day, seven days a week.  He had decorated the room with a few movie posters he had got from his old job as an usher at the local cinema before it burn to the ground.  The wall paper was ripped, there was no carpet and his bed was just a matress on the floor with a crate next to it which his lamp sat on amidst boxes full of alcohol as Red used it at storage.
"GET THE FUCK UP ASSHOLE YOU GOT TO HELP THE BAND SET UP!" Red shouted through the door as the pounding on the door continued.
"I'm coming red," Tony shouted back, reaching for the closest band t-shirt he had next to his bed.  He pulled it over his head as he got to his knees, stood up and walked over to the door to put his shoes on.  He went across the bar towards the bathroom when he heard Red bellowing after him.
"You're on the clock here, I'm not paying you to piss fucko."
Tony throw him a wave without looking back, "Sure thing, you fat prick," he muttered under his breath as he walked into the dank bathroom with the flickering fluorescent light.  The graffitied cubical door hung off, clinging on by a few rusty screws on the bottom hinge.  Through the opening he could see the toilet was over flowing with puke and shitty toilet paper and he shook his head knowing he would have to clean up somewhere between helping tonights hopefull, 'The Killer Blast,' set up for there gig and getting Red his 3rd take away of the night from the chinese across the street.  He positioned himself infront of the urinal, water slushing beneath his feet as he proceeded about his morning routine 
He walked back through to the bar and was greeted by three lanky rockers who promptly shoved their van keys in his face.
"Go unload our shit and be fucking careful; you break anything and we break your fuckin' skull," snarled the lead lead singer and apparent spokes person for this group of misfit pricks who he, in his mind at that moment, wished they would be just another Nirvana rip off band the usual croud of drunk underage grunge kids and sociopath heroin addicts, who have became well knows in the underground scene to be ruthlessly blunt in there first impressions, would chew up and spit out like so many bands he had been treated like shit by before.  He went out to the ally and began the tedious task of unloading the equipment and promptly set about getting ready for the nights no doubt riviting preformance and having to break up the fights which tend to kick off, a few of which have left him with broken bones in the past which of course he would have to work with.  God forbid he get a day off. 
Like Tony had predicted the night went off like most others begining with him stamping hands at the door of the largly familar faces from most nights.  Then he would make his way over to the bar to start serving drinks and turning a blind eye to the drug dealing he would openly see taking place, but upon starting the job was warned by Red to "Keep your fucking mouth shut; the last thing we is the fucking pigs sniffing around where they don't fucking belong."  So he would pretend he never saw anything but often wondered what would happen if he ratted Red out to the police.  Obviously there would be an investigations and the bar would get shut down but his thoughts were more on where he would go and what he would do with his life.  He had dreams and goals as a teen like most do but what most kids aren't told about is; life is a bitch and if you dont work for everything you want don't expect anything.  Which is why he worked in this shit hole instead of being the great horror writer he hoped he would become.  Being the loner as he was growing up gave him alot of time to watch all the old horror movies and read books on the paranormal and bizzare.  He knew he had a talent for it but missed his chance to get his foot in the door. 
'Pretty easy night,' Tony thought to himself as he started clearing the bands stuff back into their van.  A few scraps and bottles thrown but nothing too bad.  He was loading the last of the equipment away he heard some commotion from the alley that ran adjacent to Red's.  He reached inside the back door and got the baseball bat he kept there for when he has to disperse crowds of junkies that tend to form, or the occasional person trying to break in.  He made his way to the corner and poked his head around to size up the trouble and saw two drunk guys in what looked like their mid 20's, standing over a figure cowering in the corner wailing.  Tony gripped the bat behind his back to hide it and made his way around.
"Alright guys lets break it up."  The men slowly turned around and gave home a look up and down as if saying without actually saying 'Who the fuck is this scrawny prick and how does he think he has any chance?'
One of the men stepped forward and said with a smirk on his face, "Look pal you don't want any of this, so get the fuck out of here." Tony swung the bat down from behind him, knocking over a trash can next time him before raising it and bringing it to rest on his shoulder.
"If I have to say it again im going to start swinging.  Now be good little girls and leave before I confiscate your knee caps."
The guy in the back threw his bottle down at Tony's feet and started to rush him.  Tony took a step back then drove the bat forward putting his weight into it.  The fat end of the bat connected with the bridge of the guys nose and the alley echoed with a sickening crunch.  It stopped the guy in his tracks as he lifted his hand to find blood pouring out of his nose.  Tony brought the bat back like he was about to hit a home run when the first guy put his hand on his friends shoulder and instructed him to, "Come on."  As they were leaving the prick with the broken nose looked back and shouted, "If I see you again kid; you're fucking dead!" 
Tony made his way over to the cowering figure in the corner who was muttering to himself and slapping the palms of his hands into the sides of his head.  Tony put his hand on the kids shoulder and he let out a wine, punched Tony in the mouth, bursting his lip and began to run but stopped before he reached the end of the alley.  He turned around and very slowly made his way over to Tony who was sitting on his ass with his legs out in front of him; he was in shock he didn't see it coming and it made him smile to himself that you never see stuff like that happen when spiderman saved anyone.  The kid made hisway over and knelt down beside tony.
"A-a-a-re you alright mmmmmister?" the kid asked with a gently stammer.
"Yeah, I'm alright," said Tony, "Are you?"  The kid only answered with a smile and nod.  "What are you doing out here?" tony asked.
"I live here n-now," the boy answered.
"Live here?  You're only a kid," exclaimed Tony.  "Who are you?  Why are you here?"
"M-m-my name is... my name is Rory.  I've been in foster care my whole life b-becau-- because 'no one wants a problem ch-child.'"
"What?  That's ridiculous you don't seem a problem to me."
"Yeah, I have a bit of a stammer but that ain't shit."
Tony replied "Ain't shit ain't shit."
Rory replied, "I'm aaautistic, I rrrran away when i was 1,1,2,3,5,8,12, teen 6.. I ran away when I was 16.  I've been living around the city since." Tony sighed.
"Red is going to have my head above the fuckin' bar if he catches us but come on, you can sleep in my room for a bit.  Tony got to his feet and led Rory off into the back of Red's.
After the bar had shut and Red had left, Tony set about clearing up.  He grabbed a few cans of Coke, some crisps and nuts and went to his room.  He handed to them to Rory, "I'm going to finish up through there; get these down you, you look fucking starving.  You can sleep on the bed, I'll take the floor."
He left and finished cleaning.  Making his way back to his room after about an hour but what seemed like all night he expected to find Rory asleep but he walked in and Rory was sitting in bed muttering to himself.  "Not a big sleeper huh?" Tony said kicking off his shoes. "I was like that when I was growin' up as well now I have to grab every chance I have to sleep before Red demands I do some other back breakin', soul destroying job."  He sat on the bed next to Rory and looked at him for a few minutes without talking.
"So you really been all alone in this city for so long?  Wouldn't be me; I hate being out after dark, city is full of murderers and junkies."  Rory made a few weird clicking sounds with his mouth then looked up to meet Tony's stare.
"Y-y-yyou helped me," Rory muttered.
"Well yeah, I did, but to tell you the truth I was shaking like a shitting dog the entire time.  I just couldn't let someone be treated like that.  I've been on the recieving end of a fair number of beatings in my day so I knew what you would be feeling.  You see this scar?" Tony brushed the hair away from his forehead revealing a light pink scar about an inch below the hair line running from near the middle down to just above is right temple. Rory nodded.  "When I was about 18 I was on the bus on the way to a friends house where I had been staying the past few weeks.  It stopped outside this run down house where 4 big ass guys piled on.  They were being loud and generally annoying everyone but no one said anything.  I had my head down listening to my walkman trying to stay below their radar but I guess it didn't work because before I knew it they were on the seats around me trying to get my attention.  They pulled my head phones out and demanded I give them my shit, I couldn't do anything but sit there frozen with fear.  one of the guys in front drew a pipe out from his coat sleeve and put it under my chin and lifted my head with it to make eye contact, 'Give.. us...your stuff,' he said calmly to show he was in complete control.  I slowly began to empty my pockets when I felt the can of pepper spray the cinema manager insisted we carry.  I pulled it out, jumped up out my seat and shouted, 'Back the fuck off man.'  Then time seemed to stand still until the guy on my right grabbed my arm and the one with the pipe layed me out.  I woke up covered in blood and my shit was missing along with the 4 guys.  There were some new faces on the bus and some that had been there the whole time, all looking forward not even acknowledging me, not even the fucking driver done anything.  So even though no one helped me I'd like to think I'm better than those fuckers and will help someone if i see them in need." 
Rory leaned forward and placed his index and middle fingers on the scar to feel the contours.  His mouth fell open and his eye started blinking uncontrolably.  'What the fuck?' Tony though starting to panic; was Rory having a seizure?  If so what the fuck would he do?  There was a kid in his 3th grade class who was prone to seizures but casting his mind back he couldn't remember how the teachers handled it.  He watched Rory's eyes and was over come with a mixture of awe and fear as he saw with every blink Rory's eyes changed coulor from blue to green to brown and he could almost swear at one point Rory's eyes were completly black.  Suddenly Rory's hand fell from Tony forehead and his eyes had returned to there bluish grey colour.  Rory was breathing heavily, "What the fuck was that?" Tony asked him with wide eyes.
Rory didn't answer then finally said, "I'm pretty t-t-ired now.  I'mmmm going to get some sleep."  He lay down on the mattress and fell asleep almost straight away.  Tony slid onto the floor and lay back.  He knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep.
Much to Tony's surprise he did fall asleep and like usual he was awoken by shouting and banging only this time it wasnt on his door, it seemed more distant.  He looked to his side and saw Rory was missing. "SHIT!" Tony shouted, instantly increasing in panic.  He jumped to his feet and ran out to the bar where he saw Rory in a ball on the floor and Red lurching over him with a broken broom handle gripped so tight in his chubby hand his fingers had turned a bloodless white, glistening in sweat.
"WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU DUMBASS, I CAUGHT THIS FUCKING BUM IN HERE STEALING FOOD!" he roared as he swUng his foot back and drove the steel toes of his boots into Rory's stomach with enough force to send him into the air.
"NO," Tony shouted, rushing forward to stop Red kicking him again, "He's not robbing the place, he's.. he's a guy I saved out in the alley last night.  He's just a kid, and hes autistic, come on Red he's harmless."
"You mean to tell me you let this fucking spastic loose in my bar while you were through there dreaming of the day some guy will make you the happiest girl in the world?"  Red paused for a seond then pointed the broom at Tony, "You have one hour to get your shit out of here before I pull your balls off."  Red stormed off swearing under his breath.
Tony crouched beside Rory, "Come on buddy, he's gone.  Fucking prick.  Let's get out of here."  He helped Rory to his feet slowly and made their way to Tony's room to pack what little he had.
After packing his stuff into his faded green bag he'd had since he was a freshman in highschool and helping himself to the contents of the till, safe and snacks shelf, they left the bar.  It was a crisp morning, they could see their breath in the air but the sun was out serving at this point the basic purpose of illuminating how much of a shithole the area really was.  Bums raiding bins and begging for money from the people in suits with the self earned social status who were unfortunate enough to have to walk through this area of town to get to their office block complex about two miles away from Red's.  Tony often seen them and even though he would never soberly admit it as he liked to hide behind the 'humble with what I have facade,' he often put on, more of a defence mechanism to perhaps shield himself from the realization that he had and still was squandering his talents, that he was jealous of these work a day people, no doubt with nice homes and a wife with a nice rack that he paid for with his christmas bonus (merry christmas indeed) who would have dinner waiting for him when he got back and who would rub his back and feet.  Tony let out a sigh of familure frustration.  Back on the streets, back bairly surviving, back to nobody.  "Come on," he said to Rory.
"W-w- where, were are we going to gggggo?" Rory questioned with a tone in his voice that suggested a perhaps primative dependece on Tony now.  Not that Tony minded; it gave him a new found feeling of responsability.
"I dunno," answered Tony, "But we better get the fuck out of here before Red finds out I robbed him."


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