Johnson has been feminized due to the fact that the story wouldn't make as much sense if both Manfredi and Johnson were men.

Chapter 11: A Brotherly Bond

I stared at him in disbelief. We weren't related? How was that possible!? "What...what do you mean...?"

He took his hand off of my shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck with it, looking rather uncomfortable. "Well... Do you remember when I told you about my 'pen pal?'" he asked.

I was a bit puzzled as to why he put air quotes around the words "pen pal." "Do you mean Manfredi Johnson, Skippa?"

He nodded. "Yes. Manfredi Johnson." He twiddled his thumbs. "But, um, the truth is that Manfredi Johnson is actually Manfredi Helston and Bethany Johnson. A couple of vacationers from London. AKA, your real parents."

I gaped at him. That explained my British accent, but how could I not have known about them?

Skipper continued. "I was too young to have remembered it when it happened, so I can only tell you what Mom told me. Well, my mom, anyway."

"What did she tell you?" I asked, giving him my undivided attention.

"That your parents obviously didn't know anything about child care. They tried to take you to some damn club, but the bouncer, of course, told them you were underaged." He shrugged. "Makes sense, since you were a baby at the time."

"So what happened?"

"They told the bouncer to watch you while they were inside, so he did. Mom asked why he was watching you, and he explained what those morons did. Mom was disgusted and asked if she could watch you. She mentioned hearing to gun shots, she and the bouncer ran in the building to find the two of them dead."

I gasped, tears stinging my eyes. "They...were...k-killed!?"

Skipper slowly nodded, a solemn look in his eyes. "Probably by some drunk son of a b*tch."

We were both silent for a while, then I asked "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I figured you'd feel better if you knew that my parents were the ones in the car wrecks." I glared at him. "Does seem like a pretty bad idea, now that I've said aloud." He laughed sheepishly.

I snapped. "Of course it was a bad idea! First, the woman I thought was my motha died! Then, the man I thought was my fatha died! Now, you tell me that my real parents were killed when I was an infant!?"

"I...I..." Skipper obviously didn't know what to say.

I burst into tears, and hugged me. I looked up his blurry image. "How many more lies are there, Skippa?"

Skipper sighed. "I think that's all of them... Other than the fact that I used your toothbrush, once."

If I wasn't feeling so betrayed, I probably would have been disgusted by that last statement. "What does it matta?" I asked, burying my face into his shirt. "We aren't brothas."

Skipper pushed me gently and looked me in the eye. His voice was firm. "Private, I never want to hear you say that to again."

"But it's true!"

"No, it isn't." Then he spoke gently. "Private, I love you. We may not be blood-related, but we're still brothers. A brother isn't someone your related to. It's someone who's always there for you. Someone who cares, no matter what. Who dries your tears when you cry and obliterates the person who made you cry. Who stands up for you, even when the odds are against you."

I smiled, wiping my eyes on my arm. "You're right, Skippa."

He ruffled my hair. "'Course I am." He opened the door behind him. "Come on, bro. Let's let Marlene and Rookie know you're alright."

"Skippa?"

"Hm?"

"It's just that I've neva seen you be this warm-hearted towards anyone. Not even Marlene, and she's your girlfriend."

Skipper smiled. "Brothers have a special kind of bond, Young Private, whether they choose to admit it or not."

Aww! Brotherly love! Please review!