09.04.08
Orphan fighter, pt. 13
Three days later, I was on my way back to the House of Orphans. Along the way, I had the driver stop at a House of Pancakes. I treated myself to a big breakfast, at my employer’s expense, and even ordered some food to go for the little squirt I was about to spend the day with. It was a gesture of good will, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was going to throw it back in my face, the little bastard.
When I got to the gym, Jesus was already there. He was throwing a basketball at a wall absentmindedly. Or at least that’s what I figured. When I asked him what he was doing, he said he was trying to kill a fly. I was at once impressed and horrified. Impressed because it’s damn near impossible to hit a fly with a basketball and horrified because I hate bugs. Before I got any closer, I put down the pancakes that I’d bought earlier.
“Any luck?” I asked him. I was darting my eyes back and forth, looking for the bugger.
BAM.
It was the sound of the ball hitting the wall. He wasn’t answering. Again.
BAM.
“Here let me see the ball.”
BAM.
“Fine.” He passed me the ball, which I caught tentatively. I was wondering if there were bug guts already smeared on the thing.
“So, Jesus, do you know why I’m here?”
“‘Cause you don’t know what’s good for you.”
“Ha! You’re a funny one, kid.”
“At least I ain’t funny looking.” Adorable, right?
“Anyway, back to what I was saying. I’m here to teach you how to fight. Or something.” Actually, I wasn’t too sure what I was supposed to do.
“I already know how to fight.”
“Yeah… but have you heard about the tournament?”
“No. And I don’t care, neither.”
“What about the prize?”
“Don’t care.”
“What about respect?”
“What’s respect?”
“Ugh. Never mind.” I had no idea what I was doing. From what I understood, Dale wanted me to tame the kid, but it’s not like you can tame a kid like you’d tame a wild animal. I was going to have to wing it as usual.
“Hey, Jesus. What would you think if I could hit a fly with this basketball?”
“You can’t. It’s impossible.”
“Sure, but what if I did?”
“That’d be cool, I guess.”
“Right, and what would you think of me? You’d think I was great, right?”
“I guess.”
“There you go! That’s respect! If you did well at fighting, other kids would think that you were great.”
“Like I care.”
Arg. I was getting nowhere with this kid. But, I had an idea.
“If I hit the fly with this ball, will you listen to what I say for the rest of the day?”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“Cool.” I walked back to the pancakes, and brought the styrofoam takeout box over to where the kid was. “Here, have some pancakes.”
As I handed them off, I sloughed off a bit of syrup and took a blueberry off the pile. Then, I went over to the wall and stuck the berry on the surface while the kid was eating.
“Are you ready for this?” He looked up, but I could tell he wasn’t really paying attention. I pointed toward a black speck on the wall. “Do you see the fly?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Here, I go…”
BAM.
The ‘fly’ dropped to the floor.
“Booyah!” I shouted. “See that? You’d better behave yourself for the rest of tod–”
Before I could finish my sentence, a pancake hit me on the back of the head, and the kid was off and running.
“God dammit, Jesus!”