Chapter 1: Life as Kid
Kid awoke to a blue sky dotted with pure white clouds. It was going to be a peaceful day in the city of Danville. Grown-ups go to work, kids go to school, pets stay home guarding the home front.
The boy sat up in his alley. Over the years he had made his own little shelter here in the dead end. Old pillows, blankets, and a cardboard roof with tin over it like a roof to keep out the elements.
His stomach gurgled, reminding him of food that awaited out there. He let out a yawn, standing to his bare feet. Summer was his favorite time of year. He didn't have to worry about being cold, and food was abundant. During the colder seasons he would go to the homeless shelter for food. People were less suspicious of him now that he was getting older and taller. He couldn't go there when he was smaller or people might take him to the police or something, demanding to know where his parents were.
He stretched out his sore muscles and looked over at the busy and bustling street outside. He tried to comb his fingers through his knotty hair, but to no avail. He'd have to steal a hairbrush later.
The boy wore a large ragged T shirt with flabby pants that had several holes and a couple patches here and there. No socks or shoes blessed his dirty feet.
Kid had been living on the street as long as he could remember. All he knew about his past is that he was found by this homeless lady in the street, wrapped up in blankets with a note asking for someone to look after him.
The homeless lady's name was Ebony. She raised him with the help of some of her other homeless friends, and she gave Kid to the foster home when she began to get older, but he kept running away, not wanting to go to foster homes left and right like other orphans. The calling of the city was too strong for him, after living in it for just a short 6 years. The busybody people, the smells, the sights the sounds. He didn't want to miss it, he knew he would have if he had stayed in that stupid orphanage.
Nobody ever named him. They tried to name him in the orphanage. They called him John Doe since they didn't know who he was. Even the police didn't know. And what kind of name is John Doe? It isn't. So Kid ran away yet again. It seemed at last that they had stopped searching for him. He had been on his own since he was eight now. And in that time he'd been learning what many people never do.
How to survive.
Kid knew the best places to steal so he couldn't go hungry. He knew the best places to sleep if one wanted a warm place in winter or a cooler place in the hot summers. He had taught himself to fight. His eyes had seen the darkness of this world. People getting mugged, women raped, children murdered. He decided to dedicate his life to helping them as long as he lived on the street.
He was like a good criminal. He had to steal to live, but he helped others who needed it. A bad rescuer or a good criminal. Either one.
Kid began to walk out of his little alley, adjusting his cap ever so slightly so that it tilted a little to the left. His feet slapped against the wet cement as he merged with the walking people to go down to the marketplace.
People gave him a wide berth as he continued on his way. He probably looked bad, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to know that he smelled as bad as he looked.
Getting to the market and stealing from it was near too easy. When he left, he left with a smile on his face and an armful of fresh food. A carton of milk, some fresh bread, cheese, fruits and vegetables.
Kid got in to a familiar alleyway and walked down through and past the other homeless people lining the alley with their own little roofs and beds. He kept walking till he got to a nice little homely one. Plastic flowers of every color lined the shelter. The blankets were old, dirty and smelled, but to a kid who had been raised on the street, it was near unrecognizable.
"Hey Mom," he murmured, walking in. He crouched down and sat cross legged on a small portion of the blanket.
"Oh, hello Kid," a weak voice responded. An old gnarled hand reached over and pet his head gently. "You've gotten bigger. How've you been child?"
"Good," he held out some food. "I brought you something."
"Oh, such a good boy." Ebony reached over with her bony fingers and pat his head softly. He closed his eyes, opening them only when she moved her hand away to eat the food. "Where'd you get it?" she asked.
"The market."
"Stolen?"
"Yes."
"Of course," she ate in to the bread, her jaws chewing slowly.
Kid looked at her, and she looked at him. At last she reached over to him, making a spinning motion with her finger. "Turn around."
He did as he was told, unsurprised when she removed his hat and started combing his hair. Ebony only had a single hairbrush, and she'd only ever used it on herself and Kid. It was almost a habit for her to brush his hair after one of his visits. "You're warm where you are right?" she asked.
"Yes. It's summer after all."
"True. It's felt colder to me though. . ." she trailed off, and Kid didn't respond. Both of them knew that her time was drawing near. She was old now.
"It'll be warm for a little longer," he assured her, flinching slightly when she brought the comb through his hair.
"I hope so."
They remained in comfortable silence after that, both content to not say anything. It felt like a long time, but Ebony finally let him go. "Alright, you're done."
Kid ran a hand down his now soft and silky hair. "Okay. Thanks."
"It's no problem Kid."
He tossed a smile over his shoulder at her and put his hat over his head. "I'll be gone now."
"Go ahead and take some food."
Kid shook his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "No, it's okay. You can keep it. I'll get some more later."
"But you need it more than me!" she protested.
"No, you do," he told her. His heart wrenched in his chest. "Okay I'll go now."
"Very well," she sighed. "Bye Kid."
"Bye Mom!" he waved to her and turned back on to the main street, his chest tight. It always hurt him to have to part from her, knowing that she was getting more and more sickly.
The day went by uneventful. Kid stole some more food, getting away easily. He took a nap in the park and by the time he woke up it was near sunset.
"Better go home," he said, stifling a yawn. He placed his hand over his mouth and sneezed briefly. He shook his head.
"You okay?"
Kid looked up. Facing him was a woman with bright orange hair held back with a headband. With her were three children. One a girl around the age of eleven with hair the same as her mother's, and two smaller boys about seven years old. One was shorter and had hair similar to his mom and sister's. The other however had bright green hair ruffled atop his head with intelligent dark blue eyes. Instead of hiding behind their mom's legs, they watched next to her, looking over the ragamuffin kid not much older than them.
"Mommy, why is he so dirty?" the small ginger boy asked.
"Shh Phineas!" she shushed him.
"Um, thanks I'm fine," he said bashfully. He hated it when people pushed pity on him. He stood up, preparing to leave.
"My name's Phineas, what's yours?" the little ginger boy asked again.
Kid paused and looked down at him. "Uh, Kid."
"Cool! This is my brother Ferb! And that's my sister Candace! And this is my mommy." He grabbed her hand.
Kid nodded at the mother awkwardly.
Suddenly Phineas looked confused. "Where's your mommy?"
Before Kid could answer, Phineas's mom spoke up. "Do you need any help?"
"No thanks," he said. "I've chosen the way I live. Don't worry about me ma'am. I'll be okay."
She stared at him, uncertainty lingering in her gaze. "Well, if you feel that way. It was nice meeting you Kid. Be safe!"
They began to walk away. Kid watched them go, his hands in his pockets. He smirked when he heard the little girl whisper excitedly. "He's cute Mommy!"
Kid smiled, then started his walk home.
