Tightly held in his dirty hands, he munched on the bread like a hungry beast. He rested his back gently against the wall, a move to ease the searing pain in his abdomen. The sustenance he acquired was worth the pains he went through to get them, at least that was what he thought. Erickson, as he was normally called, found life on the streets unbearable. He missed the comfort of the orphanage. His tiny little bed, the warmth of the house, and the taste of the food were horrible, but enough to keep him alive. But then, he wouldn't trade his newfound freedom for anything. There's no way he's going back to that zoo.
He replayed this thought for cognitive comfort. Erickson has been living on the streets for months after running away from the orphanage. He's a mystery. He was left at the front door of the orphanage by some unknown figure around dawn. The lady who found him reported having seen a figure leaving in a hurry after knocking on the door. It seems the individual wasn't expecting a quick response to the knock. Based on the description she gave, the individual appears to be a man. It was too dark to see his face, not that it would have made any difference. She was only able to get a view of his back as he left in a hurry, but his physique betrayed him.
Erickson, as he was so called, was a directive from the letter in his basket the day he was left at the orphanage. The letter read;
Here lies Erickson Norton the wanderer, the great traveler of space and time. Please, take good care of him.
The custodians of the orphanage thought strangely of the letter. They've never seen anything like it before, nor after, however, it was ridiculed and taken as a joke, as was Erickson.
His time at the orphanage was gruesome, always got into fights with the other kids. He managed to attract a well-structured and systemic hatred from the custodians. He despised the rules, and the boring routine, not to mention the extreme labor he was subjected to, though he wasn't alone. The orphanage ran an underground business of child labor. The kids were exploited by the highest bidder. They rendered services to bakeries and restaurants. The exploitation also included drug peddling and other activities inappropriate for children at that age.
A thought came to his mind as he swallowed a huge bite, wiping crumbs off the side of his mouth with the piece of clothing he had on him. It was difficult to differentiate it from a rag. Struggling to get up, he steadily stood erect, slowly making his way down the untidy alley. He swiftly moved through the crowd, effortlessly taking their wallets with every collision. "Excuse me, sir."
"Pardon me."
"Oops....sorry."
It was a walk in the park. His victims were too repulsed by his appearance to care for his apologies.
Finally arriving at his destination, he carefully knocked on the door, a knock so feeble he could barely hear it himself. The surrounding was highly untidy, an awful smell of an unknown origin plagued his stomach and made him dizzy. He knocked again, this time with the full force his body was able to generate.
"Yo dude! Chill, you don't pay the
damn rent."
Seeing the person standing before him, Erickson immediately regretted his decision. He wanted to leave the place as fast as he could, but it was too late.
"Well, well, well....what do we have here?"
This individual was a gorilla of a man. He was large and bald with an aggressive face and eyes that went deep inside his head. He had a small nose, a lipless mouth, and tiny ears. He looked like an inflated balloon with a human head.
Erickson took a deep gulp suddenly feeling parched.
"Come here you little rat," he yelled, dragging Erickson with his massive hands into the room, locking the door behind them.
"Look what I got here fellas."
Erickson struggled to escape his grip, a futile attempt.
"Hey, isn't this the little brat that escaped?" A middle-aged man inquired, blowing smoke into the air.
"Yeah, Chief. I got him, looks like I'm gonna get a huge cut from madam Selene."
"Keep quiet moron," the one called Chief cautioned.
"How and where did you find him?"
"I found the rat knocking on the door. Probably trying to steal some dope. I bet he was checking in to see if anyone was home. Kids ehhh....pretty stupid."
"No. You're lying. I didn't come here to steal." Erickson protested.
"Shut up rat."
"Calm down biggy," the Chief said, suddenly lowering his voice,
"Let's hear what he has to say. Come here little one."
Biggy shoved Erickson into the smoke-filled room. The shove gave him a chance to see the other men in the room. His fears intensified at the sight of them.
"Relax kiddo, no one's going to hurt you. So, if you're not here to steal, why are you here?" The Chief said, trying his best to appear friendly. The change of countenance on Erickson's face reassured him.
"I'm here to work. I need a job."
The whole room went in our uproar of laughter. Erickson was disappointed when he realized his assertiveness didn't give him the results he desired.
"Listen, kid," Chief gestured with his cigarette held between his fingers.
"I admire your spunk kid, but this...what we're doing here is way beyond your league. Even that is an understatement."
"I've worked with you before. I know how this works. I'm not new to it."
"Listen, kid......."
"Stop calling me kid." Erickson interrupted with blazing anger.
"Look," he continued...
"I know you give the old cows at the orphanage some money for our services. You also use the orphanage as a store for your products. You guys are essentially business partners. I know how the street works, I've lived in it for months. I've also worked at the bakeries and restaurants, your potential business partners, and branches. I can help your product reach more individuals with little effort and unnecessary violence.
I'll work for you and you won't return me to the orphanage. You'll also give me a roof over my head, feed and clothe me. These are my terms."
"Hahahahahahahaha..." the room joined the laughter. Chief almost choked on his cigarette.
"Kid, you're good. Ever thought of doing comedy? I see you making it big there.....damn this little kid is cracking me up."
"But sir......."
"Listen to me kid," Chief said in a deep tone that made Erickson curl up on the inside. The others thought he was going to hit him, a thing he won't hesitate to do.
"This is not a movie kid, this is the real deal. You could get killed out there. These scums are ruthless even to a kid, especially one as annoying as you. You're better off at the orphanage. Biggy will take you back."
He gestured to Biggy. As Biggy grabbed Erickson out of the room, he gave one last try.
"I know how to get Luffy."
The whole room went silent after hearing this new information.
"What did you just say?" Chief asked with intense interest, an interest that can quickly become rage if not satisfied.
"C'mon Chief, you can't believe this rat. We've been trying to get that pig for months now."
"I know where he eats, I'm friends with his girl, and I also know his major checkpoints and warehouses," Erickson said hastily in panic.
"Ok kid, spill."
"Not until you hire me and we come to an agreement," Erickson said with assertion, still being handled by Biggy.
"If you cross me kid, the orphanage will be the last thing you'll have to worry about."
"I'll get you Luffy in 2 weeks. That's a promise."
"I don't want promises, I want guarantees."
"Same thing. Do we have a deal?"
Chief decided after taking his time, "Let him go Biggy."
"Are you sure about this Chief, he's just a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying?" One of the other men questioned his decision.
"This kid got guts, and I love people who got guts. I'm sure he had a plan before coming here. Why else would he come to the very people who would return him to the place he hates the most? Besides, if he doesn't deliver, he's mine."
"Yeah Kid. We have a deal."
"Thank you, sir. You won't regret it."
"For your sake, pray I don't. And stop calling me sir, call me Chief. Come now, Biggy will show you to your room, you're part of the gang now."
"Ok. But I gotta get my stuff."
"What stuff do you have? You didn't have a home two minutes ago."
"I got books. I gotta get my books."
"What are you doing with books, using them for pillows?" Biggy mocked.
"No. For reading. You guys read right?"
"How the hell do you have time to read?"
"Maybe if you read more books, you'll be smarter Biggy." Chief chastised him.
"Biggy, you go with him and get his books. Get some clean clothes while you're at it."
He shifted his gaze over to Erickson and said, "when you get back, you freshen up, then we'll talk about taking Luffy out. Don't disappoint me, kid." Chief said as Erickson left the house with Biggy.
"You're one lucky bastard you little rat. You do have balls of steel though, I'll give you that."
"Well, you'll be surprised at what you can accomplish when you have nothing to lose," Erickson responded to Biggy's remark.
"I do feel for your pain, I never had a Pa or Ma to care for me. Life on the street was tough until the Chief recruited me." Biggy let out a stream of smoke as he tapped on the steering wheel.
"You know that thing's going to kill you right?" Erickson admonished.
"Listen little rat, I'm trying to bond with you here, don't pull all that medical and smoking-causing cancer shit with me."
"But it's true. Tobacco smoke is carcinogenic."
"Casino what?"
"Carcinogenic. It means it contains chemicals that can cause cancer. It also causes heart disease, stroke, lung diseases, diabetes, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, which includes emphysema and chronic bronchitis. Smoking also increases the risk for tuberculosis, certain eye diseases, and problems of the immune system, including rheumatoid arthritis."
"So, you're telling me that this little stick here can cause all that damage?" He asked, waving the cigarette in the air."
"Yes...and more. It...."
"Chill, I'm not interested in any of your big words and lame stories. Where's your crib anyway? Aren't we there yet?"
"You missed it."
"What! Are you kidding me right now? Why didn't you say anything?"
"Relax, you'll just take the next turn...jeez."
"I swear to God, if you boss me around one last time, I'm going to knock all those teeth of yours out. You hear me?" The look on Biggy's face was enough to put Erickson in place.
After minutes of silence in the car, they finally arrived at their destination. An old abandoned warehouse. This was Erickson's home.
"You had it, rough kid."
"Yeah, yeah. Can you help me with the books?" He motioned to Biggy as he walked over a heap of elaborately placed cardboard it was his bed.
Erickson continued putting his books into the only cardboard box he had. Biggy was busy staring at an old man within walking distance of the warehouse. He was injecting himself with a syringe. He looked pale, sick, and malnourished.
"I thought you stayed alone here?"
"Nope. This is a haven for the rejected and low-life scums of the society."
"Safe huh?! I see. A friend of yours?" Biggy inquired, nodding his head while staring at the old man who now appeared dead.
"Don't ask," Erickson said curtly.
"Are you done yet?" Biggy asked impatiently.
"Yeah. Let's go. I'm gonna miss this dump." He said calmly as he took one last gaze at his home.
It was already late by the time they got back to the gang. Biggy got some new clothes for Erickson on their way back. An embarrassing experience for Erickson because Biggy wouldn't stop gawking at the attendant.
"What took you guys so long? The Chief thought you guys took off." A member of the gang asked, seeing both of them walking through the door.
"Biggy was boring a hole through the attendant with his eyes," Erickson said, jeeringly.
"Watch your mouth little rat," Biggy responded feeling embarrassed. The laughter in the room didn't help in alleviating his suffering.
"C'mon Biggy. There's no way you two were ever going to work. Not even in the entire multiverse. The odds are non-existent." Erickson continued with his mockery. His audience enjoyed the show. Maybe he should consider comedy, he thought to himself.
"Alright, alrighty....that's enough," nobody saw Chief coming in. His presence commanded such respect that Erickson envied him for a second.
"I'm glad you're all having fun, but we got work to do. So, get to it."
They all left Chief for their workstations, leaving Biggy and Erickson with him.
"I think you should take my advice on comedy seriously, you show promise. I trust you guys covered everything?"
"Yes Chief," Biggy responded.
"Why don't you show little Erickson to his room, I'm sure he's exhausted. You should take a shower while you're at it. Business starts tomorrow morning."
"What's for dinner?" In this instant, Erickson's mouth worked faster than his brain.
"Listen, boy, this is not a hotel or your resort. You eat when you deliver your part of the bargain. I've already done enough for you, heck, I'm running at a Loss all because of a kid's promise."
"It's not a prom...."
"Did I ask you to speak? Oh pardon me, your parents were never around to teach you any manners. If you don't start adjusting to the new environment, I'm gonna have to force you. Got it?"
Erickson gulped as immense fear enveloped him. He suddenly realized he was now a part of a criminal gang, he could go to prison or worse, get shot. At this moment, he wondered if he had made the right decision.
"Yes sir." He answered huskily.
"That's my boy. As long as you live here, you have to follow my rules. And one of the rules includes earning
your keep. You're smart. You'll figure it out. Show him around."
Biggy who has been watching the whole scene with unease finally came alive. He slowly led Erickson to a tiny room. The room only had a small bed and a little table at the side. An old wardrobe was at the other end. Biggy tossed the new clothes on the bed and then said,
"Welcome to the team kid. I sure hope you know what you're doing," as he turned his back to him and walked out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.