Peter Newkirk
He can remember the first time he figured it out.
It was the week before Christmas and his mum had taken him along to the post to pick up a package from Aunt Flossie. The trip had taken them out of the neighbourhood Peter knew, and he'd been fascinated by the shiny shoes and long thick coats swishing past him on the street. He was only three, but Mum was pregnant with Mavis and she'd told him he was a great help to her.
He believed her because when they left the post office she let him carry the pound cake from their aunt, even though it was store bought, and still wrapped up in silver foil. He knew they were supposed to be very grateful for Aunt Flossie's contribution to their Christmas table. Peter didn't cry the whole way there, even when his feet got sore, because he could tell from his Mum's eyes that she was upset.
She had always told him he was clever but he still couldn't understand why her face went red when people looked at her old coat, which wouldn't button up over her growing belly. He liked the fact that he could see a strip of that faded green dress underneath. It was the same colour as her eyes, and it made him happy.
His Mum stopped to look in a shop window, and he remembered looking at the pound cake and wondering if he could fit it under his jacket so he could keep his hands warm. His Mum had told him that this was a special treat they would only get at Christmas, so he was careful not to crinkle the silver foil as he folded one lapel over it.
Suddenly a large hand had ripped the cake from his grasp, and another hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He remembered being frightened and looking up to see a man in an apron shouting at him. He kept using words that Peter knew would get his own mouth washed out with soap, and saying something about a thief and a guttersnipe. Then his Mum was there and the man was shouting at her, and her cheeks were very red and he thought it was all much too loud.
The man wanted a receipt from his Mum and she was talking faster and faster, but the man in the apron went back into the shop, and he took their pound cake with him. Then they went home and his Mum rubbed the back of his neck where it was red and sore, and then she sang him a song and put him to bed. But the walls of their flat were very thin, and he could still hear her crying in the next room after she shut the door.
There was no store-bought pound cake to eat that Christmas, and Peter realised that the only reason the man had been angry at them was because they were pretending to be the type of people that do eat store-bought pound cake. Nobody ever got angry at him when he carried home jellied eel from the shop. Somehow the store keeper had known that Peter had no right to be carrying around something that precious. The thought made him feel yucky inside.
Years later the memory is blurry, but he never completely forgets.
I'm only one character ahead of myself, so here's my motivation to keep writing: Next Hero up is Louis LeBeau.