Chapter 33

One burglary did not turn me into a thief. To Harry and Marvin's chagrin, I didn't get the burglary bug. It would've made their plans for my future much easier. That didn't discourage them, though. They had tested my reaction and seen that I could be cajoled into doing what my upbringing had not inclined me to do.

That was my mistake.

I had gone along with the burglary for all the wrong reasons, thinking this would be a one-time deal. A concession, after I had tried to run away. I had done my part, no more, no less. I had even found a polar bear skin rug! Surely we were done. What more could they ask of me?

More. Much more.

Although nothing Harry and Marvin said could've led me to believe otherwise. There was no mention of us pillaging another property in the first weeks following Halloween. Harry and Marvin didn't push; they let me breathe and believe our lives were back to normal.

Harry kept me busy with his daily lessons. Marvin stopped spending his free time in town. It was a comfortable normal. When Marvin started taking me out on car rides again, I saw it as a sign we had turned the page.

We had started a new chapter, all right;

One that would cement our family in a way I had not foreseen.

I should've known something was up, especially when Harry didn't object to us going out. After all, Memphis was still on the looking out for that missing girl. I was blind to Harry and Marvin's intentions, however. I was too happy to spend time away from the house and with Marvin to question his motive.

As much as I enjoyed those car rides, there was something different about them. Marvin didn't drive around town or parked near busy roads to watch cars drive by as we used to. Instead, we drove through residential neighbourhoods where cars weren't the only thing on Marvin's mind.

"Look, Marv; there's a new Cadillac!" I told him, spotting a man buffing the luxury sports car in his driveway.

"Good eye, kid," Marvin congratulated me before adding, "Car of the year, a Crestliner fishing boat stored in the backyard… Makes you wonder what other toys that guy can afford."

I hadn't noticed any boat and wondered why Marvin would mention it; He had never shown much interest in water sports.

"You want to buy a boat?"

I would've loved for Marvin to get a boat. I imagined ourselves going down the river or on a fishing trip next summer.

"Nah, I'm not meant to be a sailor," he, however, replied. "I get sea sick."

I would've forgotten about that exchange had Marvin not later commented:

"You gotta love hedges. Cedars are the best. Vines are good too. Gives you lots of privacy and muffles noise."

I wasn't sure why Marvin would tell me this. He didn't enjoy gardening, so why was he admiring hedges and vines? Then again, remarking on the state of the neighbours' shrubs and lawn sounded like something adults would obsess over. So I played along and didn't question Marvin when he drew my attention to the details of a house, or the habits of some unsuspecting resident. Little by little, a pattern started to emerge.

"Leaving the garage door open, huh?" Marvin would slow down in front of a property. "Look at all those tools…"

It didn't take me long to realize what Marvin was doing. I didn't have a word for it yet, but I saw he was casing houses. Sometime, he wasn't very subtle about it either.

"Somebody's out of town..."

I examined the house Marvin was looking at, trying to come up with an argument to refute his statement.

"How can you tell?

– The flyers, kid. Look at the flyers stuck in the front door.

– So?

– So, flyers are distributed on Thursdays. We're Tuesday. Nobody's been home in days."

And that was when Marvin didn't drop all pretenses:

"Look, there's a window open on the second floor, right next to a big old tree. I bet you could climb and get in, no problem. You like climbing trees, don't ya?

– I'm not climbing any tree."

I only pushed back when Marvin went too far, but I was careful not to push back too hard. Casing houses or not, I enjoyed these rides and I didn't want them to stop if I spoiled his fun.

Marvin, however, showed no irritation or disappointment when I refused to engage him. Sensing my discomfort, he simply changed the subject. Marvin never suggested we broke into any of the properties he showed me. I'm not sure he returned to these streets with Harry either. Over time, I came to understand there were no strings attached to these comments and stopped worrying about them. I figured Marvin was just talking. No harm in talking, right? That was just Marvin being Marvin. So he was a burglar, big deal! After Halloween, it seemed logical he would feel more comfortable showing me his true colours. I couldn't fault him for being honest. I therefore stopped glaring whenever Marvin pointed the weakness in a property. There was no point. And to be honest, listening to him was interesting.

"Oh look, don't you love it when they roll out the red carpet?

– What do you mean?" I asked, my curiosity overcoming my discomfort.

"Just look at that house, kid; what time is it? Nearly ten o'clock at night? And they left two mountain bikes and a baby stroller outside."

I had looked at the bikes abandoned in front of the garage, remembering how my siblings and I used to do the same thing. How many times had our parents told us to take them inside for the night? How many times did we forget?

"You wanna steal their bikes?

– Yes, but that's not the point. Those bikes tell me two things about the owners of this place," Marvin listed. "One, mom and dad can afford to spend the extra buck on the kids, which means more goodies inside, and two, mom and dad are too busy, or tired to pick them up.

– Maybe they just forgot.

– Exactly! We're looking at overworked idiots who'll forget to lock their doors, close their windows, or set the alarm."

Or leave one of their kids behind…

We didn't steal the mountain bikes. It was all hypothetical. It didn't mean anything. Marvin without Harry was harmless.

That was my second mistake.

I knew Marvin. I knew what he was capable of, and yet I let my affection for him fool me into thinking he was incapable of having a hidden agenda. No harm in talking? Marvin was doing much more than talking.

Marvin wasn't casing houses.

He was teaching me how to case houses.

When it came to influencing me, my captors realized that Marvin was the way to go. With his smile and dumb jokes, I was much more receptive to him than to Harry. That's how, without realizing it, I came to assess and spot vulnerable houses wherever I went. Real estate agents talk about "curb appeal," how attractive and desirable a home looks from the street; what Marvin taught me wasn't that much different. He made a game out of cruising neighbourhoods, asking me which house would make the best target, and why.

Marvin showed me where motion activated lights were installed, how to tell them from common lights and how to remain in their blind spot. Before I knew it, my eyes were drawn to windows without bars, side doors half-hidden by bushes and locks without deadbolts. An overgrown lawn at an otherwise nice property would suggest vacancy. Lights or music left turned on in the middle of the nights were an invitation. Garbage day became an excuse to scope out abandoned boxes of the latest electronics on the curbside.

I did not intend to become a burglar. If I listened to Marvin, it was because I liked hanging out with him, that's all. Marvin was many things, but boring wasn't one of them. And what he showed me was kinda cool. With Marvin, I saw the world under a different lens; it was like belonging to a club. A secret club. Being included this way, it was a good feeling.

Marvin is not half as stupid as people think he is.

It also helped that Harry didn't ask any question regarding our drives. I'm sure Marvin must've debriefed him, but Harry never breached the subject with me. He acted as if he neither knew, nor cared, what Marvin and I did during these drives.

In the early stage of my criminal education, Harry took a laid-back role, while pulling strings for the shadows, I am sure. In my presence, however, he appeared solely focussed on my formal education and had a knack for turning any situation into a learning experience. That may be the reason why burglaries were the last thing on my mind when he suggested another family outing. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and, as I had only known Harry and Marvin to act under the cover of darkness, I assumed our car ride was innocent.

Harry was driving, as usual, but Marvin sat in the back with me. Before leaving, Harry had handed me a map and Marvin was showing me how to use it. As part of this activity, Harry had circled a town up north as our intended destination and it was my responsibility to navigate the map and take us there. It kept me distracted until I had that feeling again; Harry and Marvin were up to no good.

We didn't drive through the same towns we had on Halloween, but we were heading for rural areas. My suspicions were confirmed when, upon reaching our destination, Harry kept driving down a country road instead of turning back.

"Where are we going?

– It's a nice day; how about a trip in the countryside?" Harry told me.

Harry and Marvin weren't the hiking type. This could only mean one thing.

"You're going to rob some place, aren't you?" I said none too pleased.

"Yeah, we are!" Marvin admitted without shame.

I was about to let Harry and Marvin have it when Marvin added:

"What do you say we go to the movies afterwards?"

I swallowed my comeback.

"The movies?"

I hadn't been to the movies since before my abduction. And even then, my parents hadn't taken us often; we could never agree on a movie everybody wanted to see.

"Yeah, sure; let's hit a few places and finish off the day by catching a movie.

– Unless you'd rather go home," Harry added from the front seat.

Though choices.

I didn't want to break in another property, but… I hadn't gone to the movies in ages. Harry and Marvin were burglars; I accepted it. If they wanted to rob another house, nothing I said or did would change that, so why shouldn't I enjoy some perks along the way?

"Can we eat out too?"

If I had to compromise my morals, I was not above negotiating.

"We'll have to eat at some point," Harry acknowledged with a faint smile. "Where do you want to go?

– Pizza?

– Again? How about we go for Mexican?" Marvin suggested. "I know a great place."

That settled it. I ignored my conscience's tug of protest and held my tongue as we drove through the countryside to find a suitable cabin to ransack.

Another cabin, not a house.

This early on, Harry and Marvin chose caution over profits and stayed away from urban areas. It was only later, when they felt they could trust me, that they took me to neighbourhoods closer to home.

No doubt sensing my lack of enthusiasm, Marvin did his best to put me at ease.

"Cabins are easy picking, kid; there are no cops for miles around. Most of them are far from the main road and we live in an age where people mind their own business. It's every burglar's dream.

– If it's so easy, why don't you just stick to cabins?

– The loot, kid; it's all about the loot," Marvin explained. "You can't expect to find the same goods in a cabin as you would in a house. Tools are usually a safe bet. There's always something to do or repair at a cabin. If we had a moving truck, it would be different. We could pick those places clean, down to the furniture, but we'll do with what we have.

– So why don't you take the van?

– A plumbing van driving through these parts? No way! You can get away with that in town, kid, but not around here. It would stand out way too much."

Harry remained silent during this exchange. He let Marvin teach me the basics of country robberies without interfering. He would only dispense his knowledge much later when we moved to urban neighbourhoods.

After driving around and exploring various private roads, Harry and Marvin found their targets, two neighbouring cabins. I was not pleased to discover that, as we weren't pressed for time, they planned to break in both cabins. The unlucky owners had adjacent lakefront properties in a quiet bay.

"So, kid; what do you think?" Harry asked, looking the cabins over.

"I think we should leave.

– You can be a real stick in the mud, you know that?" Marvin only half-teased. "You used to be fun; what happened?"

Criminals or not, I didn't want to appear uncool, or worse, cowardly, in Harry and Marvin's eyes.

"There are people on the other side of the lake."

Smoke was rising from a campfire and the sound of laugher and distant voices carried over.

"What if they see us?

– Don't worry about it," Marvin waved off my concerns. "They're far and they're having too much fun to bother.

– But-

– Marv told you not to worry, kid," Harry surprisingly agreed. "Now, help me pick which cabin we should explore first.

– Does it matter?

– Sure it does! It's family time. Tell me which one you like best."

When Harry invoked the family argument, it was best to do as he said. Sighing to myself, I had another look at the cabins.

The first was a massive two-storey stone construction with a mansard roof punctured by dormer windows. It was a large cabin, but it wasn't a new one. Even from a distance, I saw the paint of the white porch peeling off.

The second cabin stood on piers and stretched all the way to the limit of the trees. Unlike its neighbour, this cabin looked much more modest, but newer. It had a traditional double-pitched roof and moss-green siding. There was a matching garage and a tree house not far behind.

"So, what will it be?" Harry pressed.

"I don't know… The big one?

– The big one it is!"

The cabin was equipped with a doorknob lock that was no match for Marvin's powerful kick. if those people on the other side of the lake heard the door break, they didn't come investigate.

The first cabin was almost a disappointment. What had seemed like a large building from the outside wasn't that impressive once inside. It was dark, with most of the windows being on the second floor. In some places, the humidity had stained the Masonite wall panelling. I found the kitchen hidden behind a drape, and an old black and white television set Harry and Marvin did not bother taking. As for the second floor, it wasn't really a floor either. It reminded me of a dormitory. There were no rooms per se; just a half-dozen beds that ran around the cabin's walls and were overlooking the main floor.

"Looks like an old hunting shack," Marvin assessed.

– Let's hope they kept their weapons handy," Harry cheerfully concurred.

I let them get down to business and explored the cabin. After walking around the second floor a few times and jumping from one bed to the next, I settled for watching Harry and Marvin search the place. They didn't mind. As the cabin was one big room, it left me in an interesting position to compare how each of them worked.

Marvin, as witnessed on Halloween, was careless and destroyed everything in his wake. Harry, on the other hand, was much more gentle. He didn't scowl his partner for trashing the place, but Harry didn't follow his example. He wouldn't shove anything to the floor, didn't turn drawers upside down and paid no mind to the family's nick-knacks on the tables. I also noted how Harry and Marvin never retraced each other's steps. I'm not sure if they realized what an interesting trail they left behind, with half of the house in ruins and the other mostly intact.

As a child, I was entertained by Marvin's destructive nature, but as I grew older, I preferred to emulate Harry. We never discussed it, but I believe Harry recognized that it was bad enough for someone to be the victim of a burglary without adding vandalism on top of it. If I had to be a burglar, it was a philosophy worth adopting.

It didn't take Harry and Marvin long to go over the first cabin. They didn't find anything as noteworthy as the polar bear skin rug, but Harry discovered a couple of shotguns hidden in a wall panelling. They were the first items to disappear in the trunk of the car.

We then moved to the second cabin. It might've looked modest, but when we stepped inside, I saw this was no shack. It was more a secondary house, rather than a cabin with top of the line appliances. Most walls were made of real wood and the smell of pine hung in the air. The living room opened on a vaulted ceiling and large glass windows. It was furnished with comfortable leather couches and antlers hung over the fireplace. I liked this cabin, and I wasn't the only one. Harry inspected the walls, opened the kitchen cabinets and looked at the beams overhead.

"This wasn't store-bought," he said, admiring the aged hardwood floor. "This cabin is the project of a handy man…"

I didn't understand why that would be of any interest to Harry, until they hit the garage and found the owner's fully stocked tool cabinet. There must've been a fortune's worth in tools!

"Wow; what does that one do?" I asked holding up a small motor tool with a round base.

"That's a router. It's to cut shapes in wood," Harry told me after a quick look.

I had expected Harry to celebrate this find, but he didn't. To my surprise, he left Marvin and I to explore the tool cabinet while he went through papers and files on a nearby workstation.

"Not bad, but given what we've seen in that place, I thought we'd find a biscuit joiner," Marvin complained as he examined the tools.

"Too expensive; I bet he took it home," Harry said, skipping through more pages.

"Ah, too bad we can't pay him a visit!

– Who said we couldn't?"

I thought Harry was only kidding until he brandished a piece of paper; a receipt with the owner's name and address.

I found this discovery deeply unsettling. I had never imagined Harry and Marvin would go as far as to track the owner's home address. After all, even Harry admitted that the tools left at the cabin were professional grade. It should've been enough, but it never was.

"You're going to rob their house too?

– Well, not today, they're from out of state. And we'll have to see what we're dealing with first, but if the opportunity comes knocking, why not?

– That's creepy, Harry!

– It's business, kid," he quipped back. "Don't overthink this."

After loading the car, I expected us to leave, but Harry and Marvin were in no hurry. Harry found a couple of beers in the refrigerator and he and Marvin sat on the porch, basking in the sun to enjoy a cold one.

"You're having a beer?

– Sure! Why not? We deserve a break," Harry replied, closing his eyes.

"But shouldn't we get going?

– You worry too much, kid," Marvin told me. "That can't be good for you."

He left his seat to grab a glass in which he poured his beer.

"Here," he said, handing me the glass. "Enjoy! Relax a little.

– Marv, don't give beer to the kid," Harry objected, but his tone lacked his usual authority.

He was voicing an opinion, not an order, which Marvin shrugged off as he grabbed himself another beer.

"The kid has to learn how to drink sooner or later. And you're old enough to handle it, aren't you?" he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Marvin always knew how to get on my good side, always knew how to make me feel like an adult. In the past, I might've stolen sips of wine or beer from my parents' glasses, but I had never had a beer to myself. As any ten-year-old boy, I thought I was old enough to handle anything and accepted the glass, secretly pleased.

I brought it to my lips and found that its smell wasn't overpowering. I couldn't identify the beer's aroma, but there was an enticing buttery bouquet, which encouraged me to swallow a mouthful. The bitter taste that hit my mouth was not what I expected, and I almost choked. Had I been alone, I would've spat out the beer, but I had too much pride to show my distaste in front of Harry and Marvin.

"So kid; you like it?

– It's okay," I lied, trying my best to look cool and aloof.

Like it? I hated my first beer! It tasted awful, and something tells me Harry and Marvin knew it. I, however, never would've admitted it. Harry and Marvin liked beer, and I wanted them to take me seriously, so I kept drinking.

"Careful, it'll go straight to your head," Harry advised.

How fast was too fast? I didn't know! Following Harry and Marvin's lead, I was soon experiencing my first buzz. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. I wasn't drunk, the walls didn't spin around me, and I had no problem walking, but felt lightheaded and mellow.

Nothing seemed that important anymore, least of all Harry and Marvin's burglaries. Why did I let that bother me? It wasn't such a big deal. I could even see the funny side! On our ride back, I couldn't shut up. I was loud, easily distracted and giddy. Harry and Marvin didn't remark on my behaviour, but judging from the way Harry shook his head and Marvin stifled a smile, I'm sure they knew what was up with me.

Before heading into town, we stopped home to unload the car. Under normal circumstances, I might've become suspicious, but my high kept me from worrying. I followed Harry and Marvin to and from the car like a puppy. When Harry had enough, he thrust an air compressor kit in my arms, snapping:

"For God's sake's kid, make yourself useful, and take this upstairs."

His tone didn't faze me; I recognized it as the same annoyed fondness he used when addressing Marvin. I eagerly obeyed, chirping:

"And then we'll to go to the restaurant? And the movies?

– Yes," Harry sighed. "A promise is a promise, isn't it?"

I could always trust Harry to keep his word.

For once, Marvin also held up his end of the bargain and took us to a lively Mexican bar and grill. I could tell Harry and Marvin had been there before as they were familiar enough with the layout to request a booth in the back. By the time we sat down, my buzz had finally faded. I didn't have a headache, but I was drained. Marvin pushed a tall glass of water in my direction and I accepted it, realizing I was parched.

Harry and Marvin each had another beer, but they didn't offer me any, not that I wanted one; I was satisfied with my Pepsi. We ordered dinner and the afternoon burglaries were soon forgotten as I feasted on a plate of nachos. Burglary or not, this had turned out to be a good day.

A day that was not over yet!

We ended up at a local movie theatre. It wasn't one of those big Cineplex theatres with dozens of screening room, but a small one inside a mall. All the shops were closed on that Sunday evening save for the movies. I hadn't given much thought to what movie we would see and was pleased when Marvin asked my opinion.

"I can pick our movie?

– Sure, you can! What are you in the mood for?"

I scanned the movie posters in the lobby. There were one or two new releases for kids, including Disney's Aladdin, but there was no way I would've picked any of them. Marvin had put me in charge of selecting our movie and I wanted one that would win Harry and Marvin's approval.

"That one!" I said, pointing without hesitation to the poster of a dark silhouette standing in the enlarged pupil of a red eye.

"Candyman?" Harry read the title. "What kind of name is that for a movie?"

I had seen movie trailers for Candyman on television since early October. Thanks to Marvin, I was familiar with the slasher formula, but this didn't look like the same old tired recipe. It didn't feature the usual dumb teenage cast or a masked killer. This one was different, and I wanted to see it.

"Written by Clive Barker," Marvin read at the bottom of the poster. "Should be good.

– Who's Clive Barker?" Harry repeated.

"You know, Hellraiser.

– Charming…

– The movie's got solid reviews; it should be good.

– I don't care if it won an Oscar, it's not exactly family-friendly.

– Would you rather pay to see a Disney movie?" Marvin sneered.

"Fine; I'll buy us tickets. But remember, if they ask questions, you handle it," Harry warned.

As we had time to kill before the movie, Marvin gave me a handful of quarters for the arcades next to the concession stand. I had plenty of video game experience, but this was way better! Those quarters went a long way as Marvin and I raced cars and blasted robots on screen.

The most popular arcade had to be the new and hyper-violent Mortal Kombat. I had heard parents' group condemn the game on the news, so obviously I wanted to try it. The problem was a teenage boy was hogging the arcade. He had been there since our arrival, and hadn't let any of the kids have their turn.

One of the advantages of growing up with a brother like Buzz is that bullies didn't intimidate me. Unlike the other kids who had stood in line before growing tired and moving to other arcades, I waited until the boy's round was over and stepped up.

"You know the rules; you lost, it's my turn.

– Beat it, dipshit. I'm done when I say I'm done," the boy replied without taking his eyes off the screen.

I was about to snipe back when I felt Marvin's presence beside me. The boy moved to insert another quarter in the machine, but Marvin was quicker and snatched it away from him.

"Hey, you can't-" the boy's anger was cut short upon discovering Marvin.

Casually leaning against the arcade, he rolled the quarter between his fingers.

"Looks to me like your turn is up."

Marvin took full advantage of his height as he stared the boy down. When it comes to intimidation, he could never match Harry, but to anyone who didn't know his gentle nature, Marvin was impressive. And he was only dealing with a young teen, with no friends to stand by him up or to impress. As any bully in such a situation, the boy backed down.

"Sure. Whatever," he stepped aside.

Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Marvin handed me the quarter.

"Here you go, kid; Have fun.

– Hey, that's mine!" the boy protested, outraged.

"Are you sure? Cause I saw how you stole it from my kid."

The boy's face fell at being dealt such a low blow. Red blotches appeared on his skin as he looked around for support. When he saw that no one was paying attention to our little drama, he didn't dare make a scene and walked away, glaring at Marvin and me.

That was cheap shot.

And I loved Marvin for it!

In retrospective, that was wrong. Wrong and immature. Marvin was an adult and should've known better, but damn! He had just stepped up for me the way I only dreamed Buzz would have! It was hard to take a high moral ground when deep down, I was thrilled. Admiration won the day. I accepted the stolen quarter, grinning at Marvin. I don't remember playing Mortal Combat. All I remember is how much fun I had.

Before heading for our movie theatre, Marvin stopped at the concession stand. Although we had had dinner, he bought us popcorn, soda and licorice. This day was on its way to become one of my all-time favourite! The encountered our one and only problem upon checking in our tickets. The usher, a teenage girl, welcomed us with a smile, which quickly turned to a frown.

"Sir, Candyman is rated R," she told Marvin with a glare of disapproval. "Don't you think The Mighty Ducks would be more age-appropriate? I'm sure they'll exchange your tickets up front."

Marvin's surprise at being reprimanded, by a teenager no less, turned to annoyance. He exchanged a look with Harry who raised an eyebrow that screamed, "I told you so." Trying to sound like the responsible adult, Marvin asked without much enthusiasm:

"Well, what do you say, kid? You want to give The Mighty Ducks a try?

– Hockey? That's boring, Marv!"

Marvin's furrowed brow told me I had said something wrong, though I wasn't sure what. Before he could reply, Harry swooped in.

"Can we go? The kid's not into hockey, and the movie's about to start.

– But sir, I'm not supposed to-

– Listen, girl; my friend's trying to enjoy an evening with his kid. How about you let it go, just this once," Harry suggested as he slipped the girl a twenty."

The teenager's eyes widened. I wasn't sure whether she would accept the money, but hell, the girl probably wasn't paid enough to deal with Harry when he turned on the attitude. She did the smart thing; she accepted the bribe, suddenly all smiles.

"Theatre number 4. Enjoy the movie."

Harry did not thank her, and as soon as we were out of earshot hissed between his teeth:

"Told ya that movie would get us noticed! I wouldn't have had to cough up another twenty bucks for Disney!

– Yeah, but it was cool!" I smirked. "Thanks, Harry! My mom and dad never would've had to the guts to do that and would've exchanged our tickets."

I had meant that as a compliment, but Harry and Marvin exchanged a look, and I had a feeling I had said something wrong. Instead or replying, they ushered me in the darkened theatre to find our seats. There were only a handful of people with us that evening. Candyman was not a new release and we were spoiled for seating choice. I would've picked a seat down the middle of the theatre, but Marvin led me toward a row in the back. I didn't mind and sat with Harry and Marvin on either side of me.

Soon, I was immersed in the movie and I forgot my misstep. What a treat! Watching a horror movie in theatre is much different than from the safety of your living room! Not to mention that Candyman was like no other horror movie I had ever seen; it was hauntingly beautiful and poetic in a way other scary movies aren't. It also took place in Chicago. That was a nice surprise. Granted, my parents had never taken me anywhere near Cabrini-Green, but I took childish pride in seeing my hometown on screen. Haddonfield was stalked by Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees prowled the shores of Crystal Lake and Freddy Krueger haunted Springwood. Those places didn't exist, while Chicago was very real, and could now claim a horror icon of its own. To hell with The Mighty Ducks, I had chosen well!

After a rough start, that day had turned out rather well. There had been some bumps along the way, but my overall feeling was we all had had our share of fun. There was more to that story, however.

The next morning, I was surprise to find Marvin was already up when I came upstairs. I got a chill. Something was up; I could feel it in my bones. Clue number one, Marvin was already dressed. He was never dressed that early. Clue number two, he welcomed me with that too bright smile of his. Every time I had seen that smile, trouble had been afoot.

"Morning, kid; did you sleep well?"

His playful tone didn't fool me; as I had seen on numerous occasions, Marvin tended to overcompensate with forced cheerfulness whenever something unpleasant was around the corner.

"What's going on?

– Nothing!" he was quick to reply. "How about some breakfast?"

He didn't wait for my answer to take his pans out. While it wasn't unusual for Marvin to cook breakfast, he normally saved it for weekends.

"You're making breakfast?

– I'm making pancakes. How many do you want?"

Marvin didn't need to specify what kind; my father's recipe is the only one he ever cooked. That was nothing strange; Marvin would tempt me with chocolate cinnamon roll pancakes every few weeks.

"Can I have eggs and sausages?

– Oh come on, give my pancakes a try! I'm getting real good at them!

Which was true, although I wouldn't have any, I had witnessed how Marvin's pancakes had improved. He hadn't burned a batch in ages, and while his pancakes had often been flat or rock hard, the ones Marvin now produced were all fluffy and golden. While I continued to snub his culinary efforts, Harry would eat every pancakes Marvin would put in front of him. His partner's lack of criticism filled Marvin with pride to a point where I almost felt bad for refusing to indulge him. Today was, however, not the day I would accept Marvin's pancakes.

"Never mind," I ignored his cross expression. "I'll make myself oatmeal.

– Fine! I'll make you sausage and eggs," he yielded, giving me pause.

I eyed Marvin with suspicion; it was not in his habit to bend to my request after I had declined his pancakes. Something was definitely brewing. I looked to Harry who was sitting at the table, newspaper in hand. He wasn't reading, but had followed my exchange with Marvin with a calculated look. What now? I wondered anxiously. I braced myself for a fight, but nothing happened. Harry was not ready to make his move.

When Marvin brought our plates, the sugary-sweet smell of his and Harry's pancakes almost made me regret not having any, but I held firm. Beside Marvin's cheerfulness, our breakfast was perfectly normal. Marvin complained about the weather, Harry listed supplies they would need to buy for an upcoming job. Everything seemed fine.

I slowly began to lower my guard. Maybe I had been worrying over nothing. Living with Harry and Marvin, it wouldn't be the first false alarms I had had. Reassured, I was ready to dismiss my gut feeling when Marvin cleared his throat.

"So, kid; I was thinking about yesterday.

– What about yesterday?"

There was so much to discuss, the robberies, the beer, the bully; Marvin had his pick.

"Just a thing, no biggy, but we're going to have to make some… change.

– Are we moving again?"

Moving wouldn't be so bad. I liked Memphis, but I had learned not to get attached. We never stayed long anywhere.

"No; why would you ask that?

– You got that look.

– What look?" Marvin replied, getting flustered.

This conversation was getting us nowhere. Marvin was never good at those and so Harry stepped in.

"What Marv is trying to say is, yesterday was fun, wasn't it?"

The moment Harry spoke, my suspicion were confirmed. Things were about to get serious. They always did when Harry decided to meddle.

"Sure; the restaurant and movie were fun."

I omitted the burglaries, which Harry did not fail to notice.

"Just the restaurant and movie? I seem to remember you being in a very good mood at the cabins."

I was too young to be embarrassed by my inebriated state the previous day. Although my first taste of beer hadn't been enjoyable, I was proud of the experience.

"I don't like the burglary stuff," I admitted, playing with the eggs on my plate.

– And I don't like horror movies, but that didn't stop me from taking you see Candyman, did it?

– You said yesterday was family time."

By throwing Harry's words back in his face, I was hoping to stump him and put an end to this conversation. Instead of denying it, Harry seemed pleased by my response.

"It was. We'll have plenty of family time from now on. What do you think of that?

– I don't like it when you rob places. It's no fun and I don't want to go anymore."

Marvin's sullen expression wasn't encouraging. Harry, however, didn't reply right away. He took a bite from his pancake, studying me all the while.

"You know," he said, after having some coffee, "I heard the Memphis zoo is fun. Would you like us to take you there?"

The zoo? That was the last thing I expected Harry to say! Especially after all that fuss over taking me trick-or-treating! I didn't know what to think when Marvin chimed in.

"The holiday season is coming up; how about going to the Christmas parade? Or we could just go to the movies again. You liked the movies."

After so many months of captivity, I couldn't believe my ears. I should've leaped with joy, but didn't. I understood the unspoken terms of Harry and Marvin's agreement.

"You'll only take me to the zoo, the parade, or the movies if I rob houses with you, is that it?

– You catch on fast, kid," Harry smirked. "So, do we have a deal?"

I was more annoyed than disturbed by the implications of this arrangement.

"But why do I have to go? You don't need me.

– You do something we like, we do something you like," Harry explained without answering the question. "That's how families work."

That wasn't how families ought to work, but I was unwilling to argue the point. Burglaries or not, this new deal would bring me one step closer to a normal life. What was there to think about?

"Fine, I'll go with you guys… But I still don't like it."

Harry didn't acknowledge my last remark.

"Excellent! I'm glad we understand each other."

Marvin, who had remained silent, then glanced at Harry who nodded back before continuing:

"Now that we've settled this, I want you to work on something for us. As a family.

– Like what?" I replied nervously.

"If we take you out, it's important we act like a family, right?

– Don't tell me I have to hold your hand again!

– No," Harry chuckled. "You're getting too old for hand-holding. But you're old enough to understand that, for our family to look believable, we all have to act the part.

– Sure, okay," I agreed without seeing where Harry was going with this.

"That's why, when we're out, you can't call Marv by his name anymore.

– Wait, what? Why?

– Cause we're a family." This time, there was steel in Harry's undertone.

My brain didn't take the time to process Harry's request as I protested.

"But what am I supposed to call him?"

Instead of answering me, Harry took another sip of coffee.

"What's your name, kid?

– Kevin Merchants."

Harry had trained me well. My lack of hesitation earned me a nod of approval.

"That's right. Merchants. The three of us are a family, but Marv and you share a special bond in this family."

Harry didn't need to say more. The pancakes, Marvin's willingness to please me, his nervousness; I knew what Harry expected of me.

"I'm not calling him dad!"

Harry's frown almost made me shudder, but I held his gaze. No matter what threat he came up with, Harry would not win, I made myself promise. I was ready for anything, except for Marvin to say:

"Why not?"

There were plenty of reasons why, but the hurt in Marvin's voice kept me from snapping at him.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he continued. "And I try so hard! Don't I always bring you presents? Play with you and tell you stories? Did big shot Peter McCallister have time to do any of that?"

I had not been prepared for this attack on my father's memory. The short answer to Marvin's questions was no; my father did not have much time for me. I never doubted his love, but he wasn't involved in my life the way Marvin was, something I was unwilling to admit, even to myself.

"Easy, Marv," Harry tried to calm his partner down.

"No! Why shouldn't the kid call me dad? I earned it!"

Addressing himself once more to me, Marvin almost pleaded:

"Haven't I been nice to you? Showed you magic tricks? Took you to the arcades? Taught you how to play cards? Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

For once, Marvin's clumsy, but heartfelt, words were more effective than Harry's cunning arguments. My initial anger was replaced by confusion, and I was left speechless.

"Marv; back off, will ya."

Marvin glared at Harry and seemed about to argue, but changed his mind at the last second.

"Forget it," he grumbled. "I'm just wasting my time, aren't I?"

Without waiting for my answer, he grabbed his coat, keys, and left. Marvin didn't slam the door behind him, and somehow that was harder to bear than any insult. I stared unhappily at my half-eaten breakfast, the breakfast Marvin had prepared for me, and felt miserable. Harry didn't say anything at first, perhaps as taken aback by Marvin's outburst as I was. When he did speak, his tone had lost its harshness.

"The three of us, we could have a lot of fun. We could be great if you just met us halfway.

I didn't want to listen to Harry. I didn't want to think about all the things Marvin had just said either. I had to hold on to my stubbornness, less I changed my mind.

"I am not calling him dad," I repeated angrily to bottle up my tears.

Instead of arguing with me, Harry then asked:

"Kevin, do you understand why Marv is upset?

– Yeah, cause I won't call him dad.

– Yes, but do you know why that upsets him?"

I stared at Harry in silence, my mind empty. Besides not getting his way, I didn't know why Marvin would be so upset.

"Cause he loves you, dummy," Harry finally spelt it out for me.

I couldn't hide my surprise; that was the first time any of us had talked about love. Love was not a word that was thrown around often in our house.

"Don't look so surprise; why else would Marv spend so much time with you?

– He has to; he lives here.

– Kid, you almost split Marv's head open with an iron, you shoved a nail through his foot, threw paint cans at him, hell, you even shot him! I've known Marv for years; he wouldn't have forgiven all that unless he loved you."

Harry's words reawaken my fondness for Marvin, mixed with guilt over such feelings.

"I know you love Marv too," Harry continued after a brief pause. "Not the way you love your father, but you care for him."

It was my turn to frown as I mulled over this. I wasn't ready to see there was some truth to Harry's words, but I didn't deny them either. I had some affection for him, sure; friendship, to some extent, but love? Love was a powerful word that I had only used for… well my birth family.

"I get why calling Marv dad is hard, kid; I do. But you can't go around calling him Marv on the street. People might notice, ask questions. You do want us to take you outside, don't you?

– Yes…

– So, what are we going to do about that?"

Harry, expressing himself so frankly with me was unheard of and added to my unease. I fidgeted, but I couldn't think of an answer; it was a lot for a ten-year-old to process.

"Marv… really loves me?

– Yeah," sighed Harry. "He does. The idiot would probably take a bullet for you."

Take a bullet for me? Technically, Marvin already had, which gave Harry's words all the more weight. I understood that Marvin would stick his neck out for me. He had kept Harry from killing me all those months ago, and he would do it again if it came to that. I wouldn't say he had "earned" the right to call himself my father, but he did deserve… I wasn't sure what.

"How about calling him something else?" Harry then suggested.

"Like what?

– Father won't work; too formal. How about Pop? Or Pa? Think you could work with that?"

These words had never been a part of my vocabulary and they didn't sound natural. None of them fit Marvin either.

"What about Abba? Why can't I call him Abba?"

Calling Marvin Abba wouldn't require much practice. It was already my special name for him, and though I had guessed its true meaning, it still didn't feel as dishonest as dad. Abba was a word I could live with, and it did please Marvin.

Harry mused over this. Although he had taught me that word, I can see why it hadn't been his first choice. Most people weren't familiar with that moniker, and the point was to keep people from asking questions. After a minute or so, Harry settled for this compromise.

"I guess we can start with that," he said, sounding unconvinced.

His statement made it clear this conversation wasn't over, but for now, he was satisfied. Conversation over. I should've been relieved, had another question not crossed my mind. It was an important question, one that only Harry could answer.

"Hey Harry?

– What?"

I chewed on my lips, before working up the courage to ask:

"What about you? Do you love me?"

That was a bold question. Harry, more than Marvin, was not a man who expressed his feelings. There was a long pause, not an encouraging sign. When Harry found his words, his answer was as enigmatic as the man himself.

"We're a family, aren't we?"

It wasn't a yes, it wasn't a no. Family was Harry's answer to everything. I should've recognized it as another form of manipulation, but, as Harry and I stared at each other, I couldn't help but remember something much more important.

Harry never lied.

AN:

Sorry for the delay in updating! As usual, I hope this latest installment was worth the wait. This chapter didn't quite go as I had planned, I thought I would have time to go over Christmas, but this will have to wait for the next chapter.

Movies release in November 1992 also included Bram Stoker's Dracula. Although I love both Dracula and Candyman, I decided to go with Candyman as Kevin's movie of choice. I liked the connection to Chicago and, in all honesty, find Candyman to be the superior movie. Dracula is tons of fun, but very campy, while the acting in Candyman is much more solid.

I also realize that the first Child's Play movie is set in Chicago. Unlike Candyman, Chucky has never been associated with the city, however. Chicago is more of a side note in Child's Play, while it becomes this grand gothic setting in Candyman. As such, Candyman remains the city main horror icon.