Dear Diary Journal Entry 8

My day started calmly enough, No Runt running around being a nuisance. His whereabouts were still a mystery. If the truth be known, I was secretly hoping, the boy had decided to return to his life as a gutter rat. Living a civilized life with civilized people was obviously beyond the boy’s abilities. He had lived with the vermin for far too long. I was sitting on my couch deep in thought, the events from the last couple of days swimming around in my aching head. ” Why is the world so damn complicated?” 

An unexpected knock on the door snaps me from my daydream. In the doorway stood Tony; he looked sad and pathetic; His bandaged body barely able to maintain the balance to stand. I jump off my couch and offer a hand. “Tony, please come in.”

“I was wondering if you had seen the Runt today.” He inquired. Tony’s stance was unsteady. I was afraid he was going to fall so I motioned toward my couch.

“No, I haven’t seen the boy.” I said in reply. In the back of my mind, I was thinking how pleasant it would be if the boy never returned. “The boy’s a gutter rat.” I added, “He’s probably out causing mischief with his thieving friends.”

Tony unexpectedly took offense to me calling the boy a ‘gutter-rat’ and a thief. I probably should have said ‘he was out playing with friends’. I suck at niceties.

Tony’s demeanor changed to the defensive. He adjusted his stance and pulled away from me. “He doesn’t have friends outside of the school!” he shouted at me. “Were you going to abandon the boy if I had died?”

I stepped back. I tried not to raise my voice in return but failed in the attempt. “No one is under lock and key here. The boy is free to come and go as he pleases. Just like you and everyone else, that lives in this school. Why do you care so damn much about that gutter rat?”

Tony clamped his jaw shut. “He’s a boy. Not an animal you get to kick out into the street.

“I am not the boy’s mother or his keeper!” Before I could finish my tirade, I hear the familiar sound of oversized combat boots clomping up the 2A stairs. The Runt had returned home. I sigh as thoughts of his annoying antics fill my head.

Tony and I step into the hall to greet the infamous gutter rat.“Where have you been?” Tony and I asked at the same time.

The boy looked at us curiously as if the question was ridiculous. “With Sam” He said pointing to his little sidekick standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Who is Sam?” Tony and I inquired in unison. We looked at each other as if to say stop asking the same questions. I stepped back to let Tony continue with the interrogation without interruption from me. After all, the boy was Tony’s problem not mine.

“My new friend.” The Runt answered.Tony looked down the stairs. “Why is he/she standing down there?” Tony asked. “Why don’t you ask your friend to come up and say hello.”

The Runt shook his head. “No, Sam doesn’t like big people.”

I looked down at Sam, The gutter-rat looked nervous as if searching for a possible escape route. I shivered as my mind filled with images of gutter-rats over-running the school.

“And where have you and Sam been?” Tony asked.

The Runt shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know…lots of places.”

“You had us worried…Where’d you get the fat lip?” the boy didn’t answer. He just shrugged his shoulders as if to say I don’t know.

“Sam’s hungry.”

Tony reached into his pocket and handed the boy a key. “There’s food in my footlocker. You know where it is. Take your friend with you. I’ll meet you down there in a little while. “

Tony and I watched as the Runt clomped down the 2A stairs in his over-sized combat boots back to his impatiently waiting little friend. The boy jumped over the last three steps and landed with a loud thud, together again the two gutter rats ran off toward Tony’s workshop.

There was a moment of awkward silence. I looked at Tony not sure what to say. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. Suddenly, Tony’s face turned a ghostly shade of white. He looked as if the effort to stand was quickly becoming difficult.

“Why don’t we sit…?” I urgently motioned toward the green couch that doubled as my bed. It was the most comfortable place to sit in my room. I quickly pushed my blankets and pillow aside. Tony slowly hobbled toward the couch, each step an obvious challenge. His brow covered in sweat; he looked as if he was going to pass out at any moment. I felt bad for Tony. The Central Sharks had beaten his body horribly.

“Let me help.” I took firm hold of Tony’s arm as he struggled to sit. The effort wasn’t without discomfort. His face contorted as he fell back onto the green cushions. He grabbed his bandaged side with his free hand and let out a cry of swearwords that would make a sailor blush.

I stepped over to my desk and glanced into the blue water pitcher. There was still water in the bottom. Unfortunately, I had’t replace the water for more than a day. There didn’t appear to be any floaters in the liquid so I poured a glass. “Drink this, you’ll feel better,”

Tony reached out to grab the glass with both hands. “Thank you.” He said as he sipped the water.

“You are trying to do too much too soon!” I scolded.

Tony closed his eyes and sipped more of the water. “I have responsibilities, things that need to be taken care of!”

“Surely, those things…” I put strong emphasis on the word “things” even though I didn’t know what things he was referring. “.. Can wait a few days” I replied.

Tony opened his eyes and looked over at me. Before he could reply I said, “Maybe, you should ask for help.”

Tony handed me back the glass and leaned forward in an attempt to stand. He couldn’t lift himself off the couch. “I don’t need any help.” He insisted.

“Sometimes we all need help.” I sat down next to Tony and gently patted his leg. There wasn’t anywhere else free of injury and truthfully; I was hesitant to pat there. ”The people in this school always help each other.” I added with sincerity.

Tony pushed my hand aside. “Oh, right, like the way you helped care for the Runt while I was unconscious.”

I was dumbfounded and a bit perturbed. “The boy is eight!” I replied. “Eight year-olds take care of themselves all the time. He walks, he talks and he can take a piss all by himself. I’m sure he knows where his bed is and where you keep the food storage. He’s a gutter rat for goodness sake!”

Determined to stand on his own without my assistance Tony inched his way to the edge of the couch, “He’s a boy…not vermin!” he snapped back in reply. “Why do you insist on calling him a gutter rat?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit. I know he’s a boy…what I meant to say was, The Runt can come and go as he pleases. He doesn’t need someone to hold him by the hand. No one is kicking the boy out of school.”

Tony managed to lift himself off the couch. “I gotta go…” he said as he hobbled his way back to the door.

“Let me help you get to the workshop.” I pleaded.

Tony looked over his shoulder. “Just stay here. I don’t want your help.”

From the top of the stairs, I watched as Tony precariously maneuvered his way down the stairs. He stopped to rest at the bottom and then continued on his way.