Author Notes: Er, hi ^^ Anyways, there is a very scary amount of Mary-Sues in the Holes section, and although it's spurred me to hurry up with writing my canon Holes fiction, I'm still mapping out details for my longer fics. So here's a nice short story on Zero, because, well, if you knew me at all you'd know my favorite character was Zero :-p
And seriously . . . those Mary-Sues . . . all the same, and MOST are unlikely . . . geesh . . .
Shout outs to my uber-cool Posse – Aly, Heather, Kate, Metz, Shira, Alexa, Relle, Hannah, Sen, Grab Bag, Shae, and anyone else I may have forgotten ^^;;
Mmkay, this is basically a mini-musing of why Zero, although a street-kid, doesn't act tough or mean at all, although many kids in his position would project that kind of attitude. My personal thoughts? Well, he's a smart kid, with good values. I think he may have witnessed an act of cruelty, and seeing it, decided not to become that way. He's like that; 'tis one of the reasons I like him so much. In this case, I'm going to write he witnessed a mugging, and decided, like the smart kid he is, not to end up like that.
Disclaimer: I am able to channel Louis Sachar's spirit, thus I own Holes. …*cracks up* Mmkay, ignore that, and remember I don't own Holes. Unless you'd like to buy it off of Louis Sachar and give it to me as a birthday present :-p
Smart Kid
Celestra (AKA El S)
An eleven year-old Hector Zeroni peered cautiously around the corner of a street. The sky overhead was a very murky grey, and he was wondering if it would perhaps be a good idea for him to seek shelter in case it rained.
Rain is a bad thing when you live on the streets.
Seeing the coast was clear, he headed down the street, and then crossed, heading to his familiar haunt – Laney Park. As long as it wasn't raining yet, he figured it would be okay for him to sit at the bench. The homeless shelter was not very far away . . . and he had to wait.
Because his mother could come back.
It could happen.
No one else was in the park, or at least, no one was in the line of vision of the playground and benches surrounding it.
Hector made his way to the bench closest to the street, facing the pavement. He noticed some dried bird droppings; he sighed and shifted slightly to the right.
Suddenly Hector lay his head down on the table, feeling much older then eleven, and much more tired then an eleven year-old should feel. He closed his eyes as they clouded over, and he just sat there, allowing his small, tired body some rest. What he wouldn't do for a large, warm meal . . .
As he sat there, dark clouds rolling by, he opened his eyes again in slight confusion. Was that shouting he heard? Shouting in comfortable Laney Park? Shouting in the place that was supposed to be safest, in the place that had been his home and sleeping area for more then a month?
Hector gritted his teeth; this could not bode well.
The small boy raised himself up off the bench, fluffy dark curls crowding his vision for a split second before bouncing off as his head moved. Cautiously, he headed in the direction he thought the last shout had sounded.
In fact, he didn't know why he was going there. It could be someone's game. It could be serious. In either case, what was there to be done by him?
He didn't know.
But he went anyways. Maybe because he could join in the game. Maybe because he could help. Maybe because he had the natural curiosity of a child. He didn't know.
There were more shouts, of an angry man, and a hysterical woman. Sensing potential danger, Hector crouched behind a large bush.
Screened by his leafy hideaway, he was able to see a large man – no, wait, he was barely twenty – and a woman in her late twenties, clutching her purse, and beginning to sob. With a jolt, Hector realized the young man was attempting to snatch the purse – very forcibly.
The man attempting to mug the woman snarled in frustration, as the lady refused to give her purse up without a fight. She screamed loudly as the man gave into temptation and hit her heavily, sending her sprawling against a sturdy oak. The man refused to let her up, instead pushing her down cruelly every time she tried.
Hector shuddered in his hiding spot behind the bush. He wanted to leave, run away, and cease witnessing such cruelty, but he knew he would be discovered if he tried to leave now. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't, and instead, his eyes were squinting from wincing at the actions. He wished he still had Jaffy to hug.
The man had finally gotten a good grip on the woman's purse, and he tugged on it sharply, bringing it free at last, as the woman slumped back down, defeated.
The man laughed once, before turning and rushing away, and unfortunately, almost tripping on Hector.
Hector stared up at him, terrified and wide-eyed.
The man smirked, thinking he was going to make a bit more money, before realizing only an eleven year-old was staring up at him. He snorted and made off with the woman's purse.
Hector, feeling helpless and still a little scared, did the only thing that made sense to him – he went over to help the woman. He helped her sit up, and looked at her in concern.
"The jerk mugged me," she said, a little unnecessarily. She looked very frightened. She was scratched up a bit, and her blouse was a bit torn.
She continued, "Worst thing is I used to know him . . . when he was a kid. The streets must have gone to him . . ."
Hector nodded once, dumbly. He was at a loss when the woman began to cry softly.
"You're a street kid too, aren't you . . .?"
Hector nodded again.
The woman shook her head, frazzled, as she tried to shake the tears from herself. "Please, don't end up like him. All right?"
And Hector, realizing the kind of experiences that man must have made other people go through, nodded in agreement. "I promise I won't end up like him. I won't mug or hurt anyone, no matter what."
Hector didn't know why he was making a somewhat strange promise to a woman he had never met, but somehow, he felt this was the right thing to do. Even if one is at a loss, they shouldn't hurt others . . .
The woman attempted a wet smile. She ruffled Hector's hair lightly. "Thank you . . ."
And as the rain began to fall slightly, Hector strained to hear the woman's next words . . .
"I know you won't . . . I can tell . . . you're a smart kid."
Er, yes, I know it's short and rather cruddy ^^;; But the point is it has several themes, some to do with the book and Zero's character directly. See, unlike MS fics, I'll leave you with something to think about! *looks proud*
Anyways, please review, I'd really appreciate your thoughts so I can improve.
Flames that have absolutely no point will be pointed at and laughed at :-p