"Nate, stay close."
He runs back to me, mumbling, "Sorry, I'm just excited. I mean, Peru?" He stifles a small scream. "So cool."
I lead Nate down the hall in the airport terminal. He keeps straying to investigate posters or people carrying kennels containing small dogs. It's like putting a leash on a cat. "Nate! Don't touch that."
"But Sully, I was just looking."
"Look with you eyes, young man, not your hands." He walks towards me then two seconds later he walks over to another store and starts fingering some scarves. "Okay, you know what? Come here." I grab a tight hold of his arm and drag him to the nearest bench.
"Ow!" I drop him onto the bench. "You have freakishly long fingernails, ya know," he grumbles.
"Sit here. I will get us checked in."
"Why can't I come?"
"Because you are driving me batshit crazy!" That shut him up. I think I might have scared him. He slouches a bit and drops his eyes. "Now, don't move. You don't talk to anybody, you don't even make eye contact. Comprendre?" Nate nods. "Good."
I turn around, head toward the gate. God, he's fifteen, but he acts like a he's five. I had to put him in timeout!
The woman at the gate checks me and Nate in, then I walk back to the bench. The empty bench. The empty bench!
Oh shit.
I spin around and start scanning the crowd. I look for his dark brown hair with a red and white baseball shirt. Did he run away? Was he kidnapped? Oh, when I find that boy...
"Hi Sully."
I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn on my heel to face a very cheerful Nate. "Where the hell were you?" I growl.
"I saw someone throw away a perfectly good half of a cinnamon bun. I was planning to be back before you came back, but you were fast."
"What did I say before I left?"
"Don't move."
"And what did you do?"
He shuffles his feet. "I moved."
"And what's our number one rule?"
"I do what you say when you say it."
"I know this is your first job, but the rules are simple. This is your first and final warning. Now, let's go." I head off to the gate again, listening to Nate's footsteps behind me. They don't stray this time.
Neither of us say a word until we're sitting on the plane. Even then, Nate only speaks when spoken to. Was I too harsh on him? He's looking out the window with a blank face. "Hey, kid, wanna help me with something?"
He looks at me cautiously. "Sure. What is it?"
I pull out the magazine from the pocket on the seat in front of me and flip to one of the last pages. "It's called sudoku. You have to fill out the squares with numbers in a certain order. I can never finish them."
I can tell I've peaked his interest when he frowns at the puzzle. "What are the rules?"
"Okay, so you have to..." I spend about five minutes explaining, then he takes off. I can barely get two words in. He sees three moves before I can wrap my head around the previous one. Eventually I just give him the magazine and watch as he completes it in practically no time.
"Are there any more?" he asks.
"Well, there's a crossword."
"Okay, how do you do that one?"
"Fill in the blocks with words using the clues they give you."
This one, I can actually help him with. Pop culture is foreign to him, as well as some common English words. "Four across: 'I hate it when she does that.'" Nate reads.
"Does it ask for a movie title?"
"No, that's all it says."
"How many letters?"
"Five."
"The answer's Goose."
"Why?"
"It's a quote from Top Gun. Goose says that line."
"There's a character named Goose in a movie called Top Gun?"
"Yeah. Add it to the list."
"'Kay." We started writing a list of good movies Nate hasn't seen so we could watch them together later.
"Nine down: The pope's residence." Nate gasps, "I know this one! The Vatican!"
I smile at his enthusiasm. I reach over to put a hand on his head, attempting to scruff up his hair, but he flinches away. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He doesn't like to be touched, remember? "Sorry, kid."
"No, it's okay, I'm just weird with that kind of stuff."
An uncomfortable silence falls between us. I don't blame him for being suspicious. We've only known each other for a month. I wouldn't expect a boy with his background and experience to openly trust me already.
"Sully, it's this way."
"Nate..."
"No, I swear, it's not too far now."
Everything's written in Spanish here and Sully put me in charge of getting us to the museum. I think I took a wrong turn a few streets back, but I didn't tell Sully. I'm pretty sure I can get us back on track without him ever knowing so I won't get into any more trouble.
"Kid, we should've been there twenty minutes ago."
"Well... maybe, you're just walking really slowly."
"You're lost, aren't you?"
"No, I know exactly where we are. I might have taken a left when I should have taken a right, but I know where we are now. No need to be worried."
"No, no, everything's fine. We're just lost in a foreign country with fake passports and illegal guns. No biggie." He stops and sighs. "There's no shame in getting some help from a local. They'll know where to go."
"But Sully, I-"
"It's okay, kid. I've got it from here. You tried."
Sully takes the lead. I huff and cross my arms over my chest. You tried... What's that supposed to mean? He never cuts me any slack. Jump higher, Nate. Run faster, Nate. Don't touch that, Nate. If you knew Spanish was going to be an issue, you should have learned it yourself, old man.
We enter the nearest convenience store and Sully has me ask the man for directions. Me. Once we get out of the store, Sully pauses in the shade and pulls out a cigar. I give a small groan. "What? You got a problem?" he asks, sounding slightly annoyed.
"No, it's just... hot out here."
"Alrighty then. Let's go."
We finally get to the museum, but it's already closed. Sully keeps giving me little passive aggressive quips as we stalk through the empty halls. Breaking in wasn't part of the plan, but we got here late. Sully has me pick the lock to the storage room. It's good practice. We quickly locate the artifact and cover our tracks on the way out. It's a simple job, but easy cash. Plus it's my first job, so Sully didn't want anything too complicated.
We freeze as we hear voices outside the front door. "The cops?" I ask.
"Yeah, we must have tripped a silent alarm," Sully says grimly.
"What do we do?"
"We go out the back door. Come on."
He leads me to a window and boosts me up. I open the window and climb down to the street. I step off the wall and turn around. "Freeze, you little scamp!"
I flinch and bring my arms in front of my face to block the flashlight beam shining in my face. "Oh crap."
"I said freeze!" He takes my shoulder and flips me around, pushing me against the wall. He twists my arms painfully behind my back. "Thought you got away with it, huh? You're coming with me."
I glance behind me, looking for Sully. Nothing. The policeman shoves me into his car. I set my jaw. Fine. I don't care. Why would he come after me? I screw everything up. I mean nothing to him and he means nothing to me.
They question me at the station, but I don't tell them anything, even when they tie me down and beat me. Sully may be a traitorous bastard, but, hey... Honor among thieves and all...
I lay awake in a holding cell, curled up on the single metal bench. I'm so tired. My body aches as more bruises start to bloom. And I'm hungry. So hungry. Sully told me to load up at breakfast, but I brushed him off. I have trouble eating until I'm full. I'm not used to a feeling of a full stomach yet.
Just before I drift off to sleep, someone opens the door to my cell. The sound of metal on metal rattles my bones. "Get up," the officer commands.
He takes my arm and leads me to the front lobby. I allow the officer to hold me because he makes no move to hurt me. I almost freeze up in shock at the sight of a tall, broad figure standing in the doorway. "Sully...?"
"Oh, my boy. My precious, baby boy," he croons, running to me. He pulls me into a hug. "My son..."
"Da-ad," I groan, finally catching on to Sully's ploy.
He holds me at arms length, adopting a more stern demeanor. "Don't ever run off like that again. I was worried sick about you." Then his face softens and he hugs me again. "My boy..."
"I'm sorry, Dad. It won't happen again."
I flinch as he accidently presses on one of my newly received bruises. Sully notices and looks at me questioningly. I nod slightly and he narrows his eyes. He stands from his crouching position, placing me behind him. "Thank you for finding him. I assure you, we're going home in a few days. I'm sorry for any trouble he's caused you."
Sully lays a hand on my back and leads me outside. As soon as the door closes, Sully asks, "What did they do to you?"
We keep up a brisk pace as we walk. I assume he's taking me to the hotel. "They just gave me some bruises. Nothing I can't handle."
"What'd they hit you with?"
"Fists mostly."
"Anything else?"
"...Batons."
Sully exhales slowly through his nose. "Sorry to put you through that. But if I got caught too, we wouldn't be able to get ourselves out."
"It's no problem. At least you came for me. I was starting to get nervous you'd left me."
"Nah. I actually happen to like you, kid." He throws an arm around me, but he takes it away when I wince, both in pain and surprise. I don't like people touching me. It reminds me of a darker time in my life.
When we get back to the hotel, Sully tells me to, "Take your shirt off."
"Why?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I need to check for broken ribs."
"No, that won't be necessary. I think I would know if I had a broken rib." I cross my arms over my chest and stifle a scream when a fiery pain flares up.
"Come on, Nate. I need to check. Batons can do some serious damage."
"Can I just lift up my shirt?"
Sully sighs. "Fine, just let me see you."
I carefully lift my shirt, making sure my back stays covered. Sully runs his hands over my prominent ribs. He prods around a few bruises and stops when I whimper. "That hurts?"
"Duh! You're pressing on a bruise."
"Yes, but you didn't give that kind of response with the other ones. I don't think it's broken, but you probably have a bruised rib. It'll be tender, but it's nothing to be worried about. You're good."
I pull my shirt down quickly and say, "I'm gonna take a shower."
"Okay."
I close the bathroom door, lean against it, and sigh. I have this weird feeling in my chest, and it's not the bruised rib. Last time I had this feeling, I was with my brother... I shake the memory away. Sam doesn't mean anything to me anymore and neither does Sully. He's just a guy teaching me to steal. I'm leaving as soon as I can stand on my own two feet.
