Chapter 5

Well, almost every adult knew life wasn't fair and some smart kids did too. If was general knowledge and everyone had come to know and embrace it. If life wasn't fair to everyone then it was particularly mean towards Pete. He wasn't born with a silver spoon, if one could put it more accurately, he wasn't born with a spoon at all. The first place he knew as home was an abandoned truck next to a garage in the city and he grew up to toast and water for breakfast, lunch as well as supper. When it was not bread and the untreated tap water, it was potato stolen from the neighbor's garden and tomato soup made from tomatoes that were actually old enough to be planted and not eaten. Well, they didn't have much of a choice neither did they have a soil for planting it. Pete had grown to know his mother was a figure in his life, not necessarily a mother figure like many would think he knew, just a companion, someone he always saw and lived with - not physically most nights - but at least he had the knowledge that he was not alone and that a certain pretty women was always coming home to him. As he grew older though, he knew most nights wishing her to come home was pretty much wishing for too much and he stopped praying she came home and was imply glad she did whenever she did. He was barely seven years old when he began learning how to whip himself some potatoes and tomato sauce and warm his own bread and wash his own dishes. Well, he hadn't learnt himself, at least not at all, one fateful night, she'd returned and gave him the spanking of his life for leaving the apartment dirty and not cleaning after himself, with a very red and very sorry behind, Pete learnt the hard and aching way how to clean up after eating and how to generally tidy the very small living space they had. At eight, they had gone through three different homeless shelters, each time the matrons would complain of how his mother wasn't well, mother enough and threaten to call social services to come and take him away, well, like every other mother would - despite being the worse at the job - his refused to let him go to a foster home and instead ran away from shelter. Well, all the other two shelters gave the same advice and they decided to stay away from shelters, after all, the roof were leaky and people stank there. Pete had it ingrained in him that being put in foster care was a horrible thing he should never wish for and he was taught by his mother to be grateful for whatever she could afford to go be him, which generally wasn't much. He was past nine years when he knew his mother's name was Ivory. Well, at least that is what the numerous men she spent the night with called her, while they made funny noises and screamed all through the night, most times depriving young Pete from his sleep, he didn't mind, at least she was home with him and he didn't have the small studio apartment all to himself. That wasn't for long. It was the same week she had told him of a sister she had in Texas and how she would be thrilled to take care of him if he ever needed her. Well, Pete had asked why they never visited and why he would ever need some estranged aunt when she was here. The answer to that very question came three ways after, he somehow knew she wasn't coming back after the second night. Her bags were gone and her favourite piggy bank where she saved rumpled dollar bills was broken and left on the small centre table. No money, no food and no guardian in three whole weeks, Pete had ran out of whatever scraps he could gather from the apartment and it wasn't like they had a garden nextdoor to steal from anymore. The neighbors around there didn't plant and those that did, well, it was so me ornamental flower and other such nonsense he knew wasn't quite edible at all. It was the fourth week, after the hunger had made him literally pass out and wake again, he took himself and reported his missing mother to the neighbor. The kind old man took him in for about three days before he discovered that the man wasn't doing so well himself and whatever scraps he had off begging on the street couldn't feed both of them. He insisted on begging too but the old man stopped him and the next day, the police came and took him to social services where a foster home was to be arranged for him. If he was being honest, his scary looks was more of genes than what life had thrown at him. He never knew his father save for a small locket picture and an old image carved from a local newspaper where he was in the football team, but he did look the hunk and Pete had taken over that look. At almost twelve, he was tall, pretty tall for his age and although he was not feeding too well - actually very poorly, he did manage to pass as a very malnourished teenager if he did admit it. This was what worked in his favour. The first home that took him literally threw him out after a week. He was disobedient, unruly and ungrateful. Well, he wasn't on a hurry and apologize and so he left with his pride. The second foster home he didn't actually last up to a week, he ran away the first chance he got and he made sure to take two cell phone and whatever money he could find in the drawer along with him, the phones he sold and the money he fed with for a couple of days. From then on, whoever sympathized with him in public and offered help, he told them he was an adult and that was the story he stuck with, it was believable and that was how he found it easy to actually start a life of crime. As he reminisced, he could very well not find whom exactly that blame for his life, his mother maybe but then, everyone had their lives to live, she'd picked hers. Pete sat on the couch, a wrap of marijuana between his fingers and he puffed the smoke carelessly about the parlour. His eyes trained on the television set and a wistful look on his face. His gun laid on the table, dismantled and thoroughly cleaned as was habit to him. To his left was Valeria, clad in a mini skirt, tank top and a her wig pulled into a ponytail since Pete had insisted they be in character at all times, the long dress and mummy shows however was something that was driving her crazy. Valeria's eyes too were glued to the television. Nick sat crossed legged on the rug, nursing a bottle of tequila as he too paid undivided attention to the television. "There has been an official press report from Washington DC regarding the alleged kidnap of two-year-old Brownson Gray Jnr. Senator Brownson released the press report late yesterday after all efforts of the local police force to help the situation proved abortive. As at the time of this report, many officers have been dispatched to Capitol Hill Residents where the incident transpired at midnight. Speculations however is that this is a planned attack on the government of the day and particularly the lawmakers. Many questions have been raised as to the safety of the Senators residing in the Capitol Hill as well as the life and safety of Senator Brownson's family. The Washington DC Mayor, Phil Osbourne promised that suck heinous crime would not be left without justice being served, he also promised that the perpetrators will be brought to book. However, the President and the presidential cabinet has remained silent for the time. Is this a plot against the Senator or only part of a much bigger picture? Does this have anything to do with the bill that was recently passed or is this just a coincidence in it's entirety? While more investigations are ongoing and more facts gathered, the police has called upon all well meaning citizens to be alert of the menace in the country and help with what information would save the life of a two-year-old baby. While sympathies goes to the nursing mother and wife of the Senator, many other___" "Thump Thump" could he heard very loudly outside the door. Pete responded first, assembling his gun and grabbing the TV remote to mute it entirely. The put out his weed wrap and waved at the air in hope the smell dissipates. Valeria and Nick also sat up, alert and slightly panicked. Nick grabbed his pistol from under the couch and Valeria slowly moved to the bedroom to grab her gun too. The knock came again, louder and rapid. Pete rose, moved to the door slowly and pulled it open, his gun barrel right under his shirt and pointed at the skinny man that stood before him. "I almost thought no one was home" the skinny man smiled and looked behind, revealing his much rounder wife who was no doubt thrice this size and girth. "I'm Simon, this is my wife, Tracy" the man said and offered a handshake. Pete tossed the gun to the left of the couch and grabbed the man's hand in a light handshake. The gun landed on the floor and Nick threw a cushion on it at once, quickly tucked away his tequila bottle and shot in the flower vase beside the amplifier and sat up right, changing the chanel and moving to lay on the couch, legs stretched as comfortably as he could look. "We heard a new neighbor move in, so we decided to come by and say hello" the wife said and moved forward, handing him a large today of sweet smelling pie. "That's so thoughtful ma'am, thank you very much" "Oh stop, call me Tracy. We're your neighbors on the left flat" she said, beaming. "Thank you Tracy" Pete replied with a smile of his own. "Won't you invite is in?" Tracy asked with raised brows. "I...we were just about heading out ourselves at the__" "Honey is that the neighbors?" Valeria asked sweetly from behind, the baby wrapped in a fresh blue blanket in he'd arms. "Yes...they erhm...they came w.. with welcome pies" Pete replied, grateful for the rescue and moved aside to let the nosey fat woman inside. "Oh what a beautiful home you have here! Much warmer and cozier, see Simon, I told you to pick this flat" Tracy cooed as she looked about. "That was six years ago, Tracy" Simon replied sheepishly. "Still, I have better taste" she insisted. "Hi, welcome, please sit" Valeria said, now dressed in a large t-shirt, sweatpants and Crocs. "Thank you darling. I'm Tracy, this is my husband Simon and we're your neighbors" she said in a chirpy tone. "I'm Sonia, this is my husband Pe...Chris, my husband Chris and my brother Zach" Valeria replied with a smile. "Welcome to the neighborhood" Simon said. "Thank you so much" "Is it a girl" Tracy asked, smiling at the baby. "A boy, his name is Moses" she replied, kissing Moses' cheek fondly and the baby have a toothless smile. "What a lovely name" Tracy said. "Yes, it's a lovely name" Pete agreed and took the pie to the kitchen, dumped it in the dustbin and went back to the living too. Zach said his pleasantries, sat uncomfortably, pretending to watch the television while Valeria forced a conversation with the couples. They spoke about everything, from the best salons, bars, restaurants, malls and schools. She seemed all too concerned with what she had to say then if Valeria was listening at all or not. Well, she was, Tracy wasn't a very subtle person and neither as her manner of speech so it was hard to ignore a really loud woman bent on talking to you and just a few inches from your face. Valeria casted a glance at Pete and saw him standing by the TV set, fumbling with the remote whilst his gaze went to Tracy every now and then, visibly uncomfortable with the woman's presence. If there was one thing Valeria knew that Pete hated, it was third party, extras, he hated with a passion and as he'd always told her, "They're all bad news". But with a tray of pie and a smile that could light up a dark stadium, it would be even more suspicious to turn them down or drive then out, so she endured the long boring speeches and gave a smile here and there, all the while, she thought about the rash that was slowly itching her scalp with the nasty wig and the July heat.