Plink. Plink. Plink.
"Please. Please wake up." Dirty little hands left stains upon his pale face. And there was pain. Pain everywhere. From the gravel digging into his back through the thin tattered clothes to the bruises and that empty pain from not eating for days. Rain was hitting metal outside the gas bar, pummeling what was left of the windows. "Please wake up…" And then everything went dark.
"I'm hungry."
"I know."
"I'm thirsty."
"I know."
"It's smelly."
"I know, Lovino."
"It's cold." Tattered rags of a hunter green jacket were draped over the shivering shoulders of the young boy who looked up, trying to meet the dull chartreuse eyes of the one who'd placed it there. Lovino's chattering teeth and small frame were all he had left. A month had passed since they'd left their small home. And it was as if it were yesterday, that they were curled beneath the red quilt by the fireplace. Antonio savoured memories like these, and though a smile seldom if ever lit the Spaniard's lips, he was always grateful for what he had now. "Can we go back to the car?"
"Not yet."
"Why?" The child was left unanswered as they made their way across an empty parking lot. There was a blue Ford far off to the side, and a couple silver trucks. A delivery freight and a few other cars. Other than that, it was like they were entering yet another closed store at midday. The sliding doors no longer worked, and had been smashed through, probably by a rioter on one of the last fearful days. Antonio placed a hand on Lovino's shoulder before drawing his pocketknife. Lovino watched him carefully and followed his actions. "Do you think we'll find food?" The child had dropped his voice to a whisper, though to Antonio, it still sounded like the roar of a tiger and caused his ears to ring. "What if they steal our car?" Antonio was already dragging him through the aisles, stepping over mouldy food that had been strewn about.
"What a waste." The man shook his head.
"I would have liked some tomatoes." Lovino had followed his gaze, waving a small hand in front of his nose at the stink of the rotten fruit.
"Does it matter if they weren't fresh?" The child turned to see Antonio standing on his toes, baggy sweater lifting over the hem of his jeans as he reached up onto a littered shelf.
"What are you doing you idiot?" Another cry of protest almost passed through his lips until a small can of diced tomatoes rolled onto the ground. "You're going to hurt yourself…" A couple more cans fell before Antonio let himself back.
"Come on. Gather those up and we'll see what else we can find." Despondently, Lovino made a pouch out of the front of his shirt and placed the cans in.
"How about over there?" When Antonio saw what Lovino had nodded towards, he smiled.
"A candy aisle. I would have never thought." The pair stood gawking at the colorful packages, bags and bars that littered the floors and shelves. Lovino had looked at him as if to ask why there was so much, while the rest of the store was like a ghost town for food.
"I've always told you candy isn't healthy, Lovino." Antonio quickly shoved some of their favourites into his pockets. Skittles, Twizzlers, Aero bars, Smarties and a few bags of mints. Along the way, they'd managed to gather some canned food that had rolled under the shelving units, boxes of crackers and instant noodles, some pain killers and as much water as they could carry. They would have come back for more, maybe supplied themselves for longer. But gunshots rang through the air close by, and besides their pocketknives, they were defenseless.
"We'll have a feast tonight." Antonio reassured as he sat in the driver seat, opening a chocolate bar for Lovino and handing it over before starting the car.
"Do you think we'll find a house to stay in?"
"Ahhh… who knows!" Even if his doubts were high, he couldn't cause Lovino to fret.
"I hope so. The ground's making my back hurt."
"But you're not an old guy!"
"Not as old as you." There was humor in Lovino's voice, and humor was good.
Night fell early. It seemed that each day, they would lose a minute of light, or maybe they were losing a minute of time itself. If only he had kept the clock in the car set to the proper time. If only his phone and Lovino's iPod hadn't died. If only he hadn't left his watch on the counter in a panic. And what kind of caregiver and man does this make me? A foolish act, or even the wrong step could cost them their lives. Antonio didn't even leave his headlights on as they drove, and Lovino had to squint over their road map, with a match. "I don't even know which way we're going, or where we're going." The boy folded up the map and sighed, rolling down the window, "still stinks."
"Close that! I thought you were cold!" Antonio was driving in the middle of the road now that there was no danger of hitting another car. "I've got to find a gas station."
"Good luck."
"And you're going to—" The older man was cut off. The sound of tires skidding across the asphalt was deafening as the car whipped around, trapping two bloody still figures in its belly.