Green
I hate. Everything.
I hate all those other kids. I hate their snub-noses and their pointed fingers. I am not an overgrown asparagus. And I ain't a greasy booger. And I ain't a stinkin' alien. I hate when they play and no, I'm not never invited to play them, no way. I can't play outside anyway – not unless I want some cop thinking I'm up to no good. I don't do nothing wrong!
Not all the time.
And I hate my teacher. Every time those kids make fun o' me, she don't say nothing, but when I yells at them, I'm the one in trouble.
That's why I hate school. And that's why I ain't there now. I don't wanna see those stupid, stuck-up kids or that ugly witch teacher. They don't want me there anyway. They prob'ly happy I'm not there sucking their precious breathin' air. Making their room smell like trash. Ain't my fault.
I hate everything.
But I really hate this guy chasing me.
Hey, I needed to eat. And it's usually so easy to nick some candy without no one seeing. But today there was just me and the guy at the front. He's usually reading a magazine or ringing up someone. Today he was watching me. I didn't see him – I could feel his eyes. He was just watching me, waiting for me to do something bad.
They always do.
I shoulda walked right outta there. But no, this is the only place that's got the right beef jerky. So I grabbed some anyway. The guy kept watching me, though. I had to put 'em back, or, y'know, pretend to. I rounded the corner of the aisle closest to the door and pretended to put it back. Then I made a face like I was disappointed nothing was there and walked straight to the door.
"Hey, kid!"
I stopped and looked at the guy. His voice sounded like rotten potato chips, if voices could do that.
"You gonna pay for that?"
I gave the guy my nicest smile.
"Pay for what, sir?" I said, acting innocent.
"You know what, punk," the guy spit on the counter.
"Sorry, sir, but you must be mistaken," I said. "I would never even think of stealin', let alone actually committin' such a crime, sir."
"Shut it, kid, and hand over the merchandise!" the guy yelled at me. I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets. The jerky crinkled all noisy. I pulled out my hands anyway, showing the guy nothing. Then one of 'em fell outta my pocket.
Busted.
So now I'm running, and I can hear the guy behind me yelling at me with his crusty voice. Good thing I can run faster than this old guy. I make it a few blocks down and round the corner into an alley. I dive behind a dumpster, curl up into a ball, and hide. I can hear the guy close by, still yelling stuff. A few seconds later, I hear some other guys talking to him. They sound like cops.
I hate everything.
"Hey."
I hear a voice coming from out of a trashcan. I stare at it, still trying to hear the other guys.
"Heyyyy," the voice says again. It laughs, and it kinda sounds like snake sizzling its tongue.
"Shut up!" I yell at the voice, but I try to keep quiet enough so those cops don't hear.
"Heyyyy," the voice says again. "You're…" He snake-laughs again. "…green."
"Yeah!" I half-yell. "What's it to ya?"
Then the lid comes up higher and I see its face: the kid looked like a snake, long face and slit-eyes, but with a hat. And green.
Like me.
"You're green," he says to me. "Like usssss."
Suddenly, a little guy peeks out of a wet box. Then a creepy, bug-eyed guy jumps out of a pile of trash, blowing a raspberry. And next to me, a big, fat kid with one eye lifts up the lid and smiles at me.
And they're all green.
"Hey, punk!"
I turn away to see the store guy, two cops with him. The guy points at me and yells, spitting all over the place.
"That's him! That's the little thief!"
"You got any proof, sir?" one of the cops says. Both the cops look at him, and I grab the jerky out of my pocket and hide it under the dumpster.
"Well, yeah, I, uh, well, uh…" the crusty guy tugs at his yellow wife-beater.
"Officers," I say standing up. I pull my sunglasses out and slip 'em on my face. "I'm sorry, sirs, but I think you got the wrong guy. I been right here the whole time with my pals. Right, guys?"
And like that, all the other green guys jumped out their spots and stood behind me.
"Yessss," says the Snake kid. "He was with ussss."
"He wasn't nowhere else, man," the little guy squeaks.
"Pfffft!" the bug-eyed kid says.
"Friiiiiiend," the fat kid says.
"He stole something!" the store man yells, pointing at me. " I know it! The greasy, green punk!"
"Sir, if you don't have proof, there's nothing we can do," says one of the cops. He and his partner look at each other and start walking away. The crusty store man starts yelling at them.
"Hey! This kid's a thief! A punk! A hoodlum! You get back over here and do something about it!"
And he takes off after them. I'm kinda surprised – I was busted. I turn around and look at the other green kids. They're an ugly bunch, but look at 'em there. Standing right behind me.
Cool.
I go back to the dumpster and get my jerky. I count 'em out – I got five, just enough – and I give one to all of them.
"You guys is alright," I say.
"Ssssso," the snake kid starts. "You… wanna go throw rockssss at the kidsssss at the playground?"
Huh. It ain't games, but… so what?
Why not?
