Hey everyone!
First off, I wanted to thank you all for reading this story, and especially those who have followed, favorited, and left a review on this story! As a reward for you all, I have a special picture I got commissioned showcasing Roberto, Bebop, and Rocksteady, which will now serve as this story's thumbnail image! I got it commissioned from LucarioOcarina on Twitter [who has AWESOME art, by the way], who helped bring these three characters to life for all of you to enjoy!
Also, I am pleased to officially announce my new Instagram and Twitter accounts for this fan fiction account! There I will post behind-the-scene looks at upcoming chapters, updates on my stories, cover art and commissions done for my stories, and more! Follow me aggiefrogger on both sites!
And now, here's chapter three! Enjoy!
Note: Spanish and texted conversations will be in Italics.
Beginnings of Trust
About a month-and-a-half after I first met Bebop and Rocksteady, I had not seen any sign of the mutant thugs, which was fine with me.
Of course, when I had limped back into the family restaurant covered in cuts and bruises after my first meeting with them, it had caused quite a stir in my family. Even my dad looked concerned for a moment as he and some of my other family members rushed to help me into a nearby seat, a million questions coming at me from all directions. My cousin Maria pushed her way to the front, demanding to know what had happened [probably so she could tell her salon friends all about it tomorrow] as my other cousin Jose ran forward with the first aid kit.
Hearing that I had been mugged, a great debate had started to see whether or not we should call the police. The waitresses and some of the cooks, having to walk home in the dark, were all for calling the cops, but my dad put his foot down. He said that it would be bad business for the police to show up to the restaurant, even if it had not been robbed or anything. And then he chided me for not being more careful during my deliveries, and went upstairs to go to bed.
Yep. Father of the year, everyone.
One of my uncles had driven me to the hospital to get me patched up, and I did not get back home until after three AM. Arturo was already fast asleep, and I had instantly collapsed into my own bed, grateful that I got to miss school and work for the next week.
Part of me wanted to believe that it had all been a crazy dream, and that I had simply imagined the whole thing as I lay in the alleyway after being mugged and beaten up. But deep down I knew that the whole thing had been real, and it was confirmed when Loco Luis called the very next day to express his condolences and say that I was lucky to have gotten home in one piece ["Honestly," he had said, "Nueva York's like a zoo after dark!"].
About three weeks later, I was back to work as the delivery boy. I was not really anxious to go back outside after getting abducted, but my dad gave me little choice in the matter. I was not allowed to not work at the restaurant, and the only other thing I was good at besides delivering food was dishwashing [and Manny hated sharing the sink with anyone else]. Besides, I was the most experienced at delivering food and knew the area well, so I hit the streets again, now more aware of my surroundings and armed with a can of pepper spray and Abue's crucifix. I was also to text Julia [who took the mobile orders] every fifteen minutes to make sure that I was okay; my dad had begrudgingly bought me a new phone since I needed to be able to double check the addresses, but said no to new headphones.
I was not sure what to expect after going back to deliveries, but nothing happened. No criminals [mutant or otherwise] jumped out of any alleyways and threw me into the back of a van. No one bothered me or tried to grab the bags of food from my hands. In fact, everything seemed to be back to normal, except that I had a nagging suspicion that something was about to happen.
We'll be in touch, Bebop had said that night. But how? They had no way of contacting me, I had not seen any sign of them or their van when I was out making deliveries, and no one with thick New York accents had ordered any food to go, as far as I had heard from Julia. While I was glad that my life was not being threatened and that I was not getting beaten up again, I was a little annoyed by their silence. Why bother saying they were keeping in touch if they were not going to reach out?
So as time passed and nothing happened, I started to push Bebop and Rocksteady from my mind, and started focusing on what was really important. Church and youth group, working at the restaurant, keeping my school grades at solid B's and C's, and thinking of ways to get my crush to notice me.
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"Aww, it's gone," my younger sister Lupe said, running a finger over my arm and nearly making me drop the two large bags of food in my hand. It was one May evening, and the dinner service was at its peak, with the restaurant closing in a little over two hours. My sister was dressed in her pajamas, looking very out of place in the busy kitchen.
"Stop that," I snapped, pulling my arm away from her. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Papa said we could watch a movie," the eight-year-old replied. "Sofia's upstairs choosing which one. Your arm bruise is gone."
"It's been gone for a while," I said shortly, grabbing the two other bags of food with my left hand, straining under the weight. Some family had ordered half the menu for immediate delivery, and they lived pretty far away; it would take at least an hour, maybe more, even with taking the subway. "Go upstairs before you get hit by a dish or something."
"I won't get hurt," Lupe said angrily, stamping her foot and frowning at me. "Besides, I wanna work here with everyone else! How come I can't work here?"
"Because you're just a little too small," a voice answered, and Arturo sneaked up behind our sister, grabbing her and lifting her up as she squealed with laugher. "But believe me, if we had a job down here for you, I'd hire you in a heartbeat!"
The worst part about my older brother was how much he looked like our mother. While we all had her raven-black hair and brown eyes, his face was shaped a lot like hers. And he had a twinkle in his eyes when he smiled, just like she did. Though his was not as bright, yet they still twinkled as he turned to me with a grin.
"You shouldn't be teasing Lupe like this, Robbie," he said [he knew I hated being called Robbie]. "What if she wants to deliver the food like you do when she's old enough? You could be crushing her dreams!"
"Yeah," my younger sister replied, shaking her finger at me. "Shame on you!"
"Look, I don't have time for this," I said, pushing past him with my heavy load. "I've got to get this to…" I twisted my arm around, straining to read the name on the receipt. "Owen Rockerfeller."
"Then by all means, get going," Arturo said. "Shame you have to miss the movie."
"So do you," I reminded him.
"Papa said I could take early off, since I'm cleaning later tonight and don't want to get too tired. Besides, Lupe and Sofia want me there, and how can I say no to them?" My brother shrugged, a shit-eating grin on his face. "You left all the cleaning stuff in the closet last night after you cleaned, right?"
My hands tightened on the bags, and it took everything within me to not swing the seven-pound bags at his face.
"Yes," I replied, smiling back at him. "Don't forget to clean out the booths really good; you know Papa checks them."
"Maybe he checks when you clean, but I usually get it right the first time," my brother replied, carrying my sister towards the stairs. "Say goodnight, Lupe!"
"Goodnight, meanie," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me as they disappeared from view.
I fucking hate him, I thought, carrying the four large bags out the back door and towards the street, walking up the small alleyway behind our building. I hate him so fucking much!
It was so unfair, I thought as I walked onto the sidewalk, starting towards the nearest subway stop a few blocks away. If I had said something like that to him or anyone else, I would have gotten my ass handed to me. I would be the bad guy, but when Arturo does it, he's witty and clever and gets people to laugh at my expense with him. And he gets to leave in the middle of service? I would never get away with that, even if my younger sisters begged and pleaded [not that they would; they were part of the Arturo Camp]. And he's always so charming with everyone, and meanwhile I'm treated like-
I was not aware I had drifted too close to the buildings before I was grabbed and dragged into the nearby alleyway. I opened my mouth to scream, but my mouth was covered with a rough hand as I was quickly dragged away from the sidewalk. I dropped the food, kicking and squirming as I reached for the pepper spray in my pocket. I managed to grab it and was about to spray the punk when I heard a familiar voice say-
"Pepper spray? Ya think that's gonna stop me?"
I instantly froze, my eyes widening with shock. The grip on me loosened a little, and I turned to find Bebop standing there. As soon as he saw me, he let me go, roaring with laughter as he pointed at my shocked expression.
"Oh man… Ya oughta see the look on your face right now," he guffawed, holding his stomach as he continued to laugh at me. "I just… Ya look like ya just shit yourself! Ha ha ha!"
"No… FUCKING WAY," I gasped, my shock quickly turning into fear as my flight-or-fight response kicked in. I popped the top off the can, ready to pepper spray the mutant in the face. However, the warthog quickly noticed this and stopped the attack, knocking the can out of my hand and sending it flying down the alleyway. The next thing I knew, I was laying flat on my back, the mutant's boot pressing down on my chest.
"Looks like someone's grown a pair since we last met," Bebop said, looking down at me with a smirk on his face. "Now don't get any funny ideas, kid; I can still kick your ass from here to Midtown!"
"Y-Y-You," I stammered, still angry but remembering that I did not want to mess with this guy. If it did come down to a fist-fight, I would surely lose. "You're h-here… why?"
"Hey, I said we'd be in touch," the thug replied, removing his foot and stepping back, looking at the fallen bags of food. "And pick those off the ground; that's our dinner."
"Your din-"
"We needed to make sure ya were alone, and since you're back to deliverin' food, it seemed like the easiest way," the warthog explained. "Plus, Rocksteady's been wantin' to eat that modafgo whatever for weeks now, but we had to make sure we knew your schedule before we called."
"Knew my-" I gaped at him, scrambling to my feet. "You've… been spying on me?! For how long?!"
"Only for the past couple weeks; we now know what times you're out deliverin' food, what subway stop ya usually went to, and so on. We need to know where you're gonna be whenever we need ya." He grinned at me. "And it worked, seein' that I was able to find ya so easily!"
"You-" I sighed, trying to collect myself, trying not think about these two mutant thugs following me around; did they know where I went to school? "Look, I know I said that I… that I would help you-"
"And now's the time, kid," Bebop said.
"But I'm working right now," I retorted backing away from him. "I can't just go with you in the middle of a shift! If my family finds out out- Not to mention you and your friend are criminals, and I don't wanna get beaten up again!"
"Which is why we told them an address that's far away," the thug explained, talking in a way one would talk to a child. "Your family's gonna think you're takin' some food somewhere when you're really with us! And I'm only gonna beat ya up if ya give me a reason to." He grinned. "See? I thought of everything!"
"And what about a receipt?"
"A what?"
"I can't go back without a receipt and money for the food," I explained. "So unless you're gonna pay me for this food, your 'perfect plan' has a hole in it."
"Don't worry, we'll pay ya for it," the mutant warthog said nonchalantly. "As soon as ya do somethin' for us." He turned around, starting to walk down the alley. "C'mon; Rocksteady's probably gonna flip if we don't show up with that food soon."
I stood there for a few moments, my mind still processing what was happening. The shock of seeing the mutant again was both scary and exciting, and I nearly started after him when the rational part of my brain caught up with me. I quickly remembered that this guy and his friend had beaten me up, had nearly gotten me tangled up with Loco Luis, and, most importantly, were criminal thugs that had weapons on them and in their van, and were not scared to use them. So I did the smart thing and ran away from the mutant, jumping over the fallen bags of food and towards the street.
"What the- HEY!"
But I did not turn around at the mutant's yell, running out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk, pushing past people to get away faster. I blindly ran up the street with no destination in mind, taking the next left, running another couple blocks, then a turn right. Finally, I ducked into another alleyway, slumping behind a dumpster as I finally caught my breath as my body buzzed with adrenaline.
He came after me, I thought, my heart thudding in my chest as I took several shuddering breaths. He found me and… He stalked me, both of them stalked me! And now… I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why does this shit keep happening to me?!
Why did I ever agree to help them in the first place? Why didn't I just say, 'No thanks, goodbye forever,' the last time I had seen them so I would never have to deal with them again? I had stupidly formed a connection between us, and now they wanted me to make good on my word and help them with…. What had they said? Buying groceries and renting movies for them? As if they would actually make me do that kind of stuff! They were probably gonna make me do some criminal stuff like carry drugs or steal money or something. Or worse, they might have knocked me out and either sold me on the black market for organs or to some creeps like the movie Taken.
As the minutes passed and I started to calm down, I realized that I would also be in trouble with my dad when I got back to the restaurant. How was I supposed to explain that two mutant thugs, the ones who had kidnapped me back in March, had ordered food in order to get me out alone, and that I had not gotten money or a receipt from them? Even if he somehow believed my story about Bebop and Rocksteady, I would get in trouble for lying about being mugged back in March, and I would still get into trouble for not getting any money. Facing his wrath, and the gossiping that would commence throughout the family, and Arturo's stupid, smug face… What the hell was I supposed to do now?
"I'm screwed either way," I muttered, putting my face in my hands, sitting by this dumpster as I wondered how this night could possibly get any worse.
Heavy footsteps ran past the mouth of the alleyway, stopped, and then walked back and stopped in front of me. I sighed, knowing what was about to come next; just my luck that Bebop somehow managed to track me down, and I had no doubt in my mind that the mutant warthog was pissed at me.
"Just beat me up and get it over with," I said wearily, steeling myself for the onslaught of punches that was sure to come.
"Uh… You wanna be beaten up," a voice asked, and I looked up with surprise to find the other mutant, Rocksteady, standing there with two of the food bags in his hand.
"I gotta say, I ain't ever heard that before" the rhino thug continued, scratching the back of his head with his hand. "You really want me to-"
"N-No," I said quickly, flinching at the sight of the intimidating-looking mutant. "I just… I thought you were Bebop, but…" I sighed, looking down at the ground. "I meant that, if you're gonna beat me up again-"
"I ain't," the mutant rhino promised, shifting from foot to foot. "Bebop just said to find you and bring you back to the van."
"Why," I asked, looking back up at the thug. "You gonna hold me hostage again? Sell me to some creepy sex ring or sell my body parts on the black market?" I shook my head. "For that matter, how do I know that you two aren't the creepers, luring teens into your van so you can-"
"NO WAY," the mutant thug gasped, a disgusted and shocked look coming onto his face. "That's messed up, kid! Bebop and I like girls… adult ones! And we've never dealt with anyone that uses kids or anything like that!"
"Then what were you gonna do with me," I demanded, frowning at the criminal. "Don't you two get that I don't want anything to do with you? The last time I dealt with you, I got kidnapped, beaten up, and had my headphones broken! Can't you just leave me alone and do whatever illegal shit you want to do somewhere else?" I looked back down at the ground. "Just… please. I wanna be alone right now."
I stared fixedly at the ground, waiting for Rocksteady to either beat me up or leave [though I figured the thug would go with the former option]. After a few moments, however, I heard him do neither, and was surprised when he sat down next to me, and looked up to find him with a concerned expression on his face. I was not expecting the criminal to sit with me, and I was even more surprised when he asked-
"Ya doin' okay? I mean…" He cleared his throat. "Your dad hasn't done anything to ya, has he?"
My mouth dropped open, not expecting the criminal mutant to ask me that, and then I flinched a little as the memory of the more serious topics we had discussed last time became fresh in my mind. I was surprised that the mutant rhino had even remembered, seeing that it was a month and a half ago that I had accidentally revealed to the thugs how unhappy I was with my life and how strict my dad was.
"I… He's been fine," I finally replied, looking at the ground as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "He was a little ticked off I had to miss two weeks of work, but I'm grateful I got at least eight hours of sleep for once." I quickly glanced at the thug. "He hasn't hit me or anything, if that's what you're wondering."
"... Good," the mutant replied, and a few moments of awkward silence passed between us before he spoke again. "You hungry?"
"What?"
"Ya want some food? I figured if you're walkin' around the city for a couple hours, you're probably hungry." He set the bags of food next to me. "Take your pick."
"Why," I asked a little suspiciously, frowning at him.
Rocksteady shrugged. "Figured you'd be hungry. Besides, you're sweatin' a lot right now, and I ordered some sodas with our meal."
While Rocksteady's offer was tempting, I was still wary of the criminal's intentions. He sounded like he was sincere, wondering if I was doing okay at home and asking if I wanted food. I really was hungry, since I did not get to eat until after my shift had ended. Finally, I reached for the bag and grabbed the first container, finding Cuajitos en salsa. I dug a set of plastic utensils out of the bag, briefly pausing to pray before I tore open the wrapper.
"Why're you here," I asked, taking a forkful of the dish and eating it. "Where's Bebop?"
"I should probably tell him I found you," Rocksteady replied, taking a small communication device from his pants pocket. "We split up to look for ya."
"And he's mad, I assume," I muttered, taking another bite of food. The food was still hot, and I blew on it to cool it down. The mutant thug took another takeout box from the bag, along with two bottles of soda. He held one out to me, and after some hesitation, I accepted it with a small nod.
"A bit," the rhino admitted, setting the communicator aside. "Bebop ain't exactly a fan of kids."
"I can tell," I replied. "But seeing that you're talking to me, I assume you don't hate kids?"
The mutant shrugged. "They don't annoy me as much, but I still keep my distance."
"So why bother with me," I asked.
"We told ya," the thug said, taking a big bite of his food. "We just wants you to help us get some supplies from a store, seein' that we can't walk in lookin' like this." He tapped his horned nose with his free hand. "We also wanted ya to maybe rent a couple movies for us. Beeps thinks that a kid'll be easier to order around, and since you're already kinda an errand boy, he figured ya wouldn't be too suspicious."
"You were being serious about that," I asked, looking over at the mutant with surprise. "You want me to get groceries for you?"
Rocksteady nodded. "Yeah; that's what we said. Takeout's good, but it gets old after a while." He quickly looked at me. "Not your family's food, though! This stuff's really good!" He took another bite of his mofongo, as if to emphasize how much he liked it.
"So… you weren't planning on making me do anything illegal," I asked.
The criminal nodded, swallowing his bite of food. "You said you wouldn't do anything illegal last time, so yeah."
I turned back to my food, mulling over the mutant's words. He sounded like he was telling the truth, and giving his shocked reaction to my earlier accusation, I was inclined to somewhat trust what he said. I mean, I could trust the thug as far as I could throw him [which was zero feet], but for some reason I could not explain, I was starting to see the mutant as less of a threat. Still, I was not a hundred percent sure, and seeing that the guy was bigger than my Uncle Antonio [who was no lightweight], I was hesitant to fully trust the thug.
"But you beat me up last time we met," I reminded him. "And you were gonna beat Loco Luis up before I convinced you not to. You and your friend are clearly not good people, so how do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won't turn on me one day and beat me up again?"
"We won't," Rocksteady promised.
"But how do I know for sure," I asked. "I mean, we're not exactly friends here; we're strangers. And what I do know about you is that you're a thug who's beaten people up and robbed stores before. That's not exactly inclining me to trust you with my safety and wellbeing."
"Oh," the mutant criminal said, looking a little crestfallen as he turned back to his food. "But… we ain't strangers. We know each other's names, and I know about you and your family, somewhat. That's somethin', right?"
"Yeah, learning that I have a strained relationship with my family is not a great way to start a friendship," I said, stabbing at a piece of pork with a bit of intensity. "And stalking me to learn my work schedule isn't good, either."
Rocksteady nodded, a frown of concentration on his face.
"Okay… What kinda stuff do you wanna talk about, then," the thug asked.
"Are you being serious," I asked.
"Yeah. Like you just said, ya don't trust us, and we need ya to so you'll get stuff for us."
Okay… This guy's crazy or just plain stupid, I thought, surprised that this hulking mutant wanted me to trust him and possibly be my friend. Sure, it was only so I would get groceries and stuff for him, but still, I wasn't used to someone wanting to be my friend. Just my luck that the first person to was a criminal mutant, but I figured that it might be a way for me to learn more about how he became a mutant.
"Fine," I eventually said. "You know my name and where I live. I go to school, work at my family's restaurant, go to church and youth group on Sundays… That's pretty much it."
"Okay," Rocksteady said. "But what kinda stuff do you like?"
"What do I like?"
"Yeah. Hobbies, favorite movies, that kinda stuff."
My mind instantly went to musical theatre, but I quickly and thoroughly shut that idea down; that was something I would be taking with me to the grave.
"I… like watching movies," I said out loud. "Not a specific genre or anything. Just… movies in general."
"Oh," the mutant criminal said, nodding a little. "New releases, action…?"
"I don't get to go to the movies a lot, so I watch them whenever they end up on cable TV or a relative of mine gets it. Even the movies at home, I'm usually too busy to watch them." I thought back to my brother and sisters watching their movie back home, and my frown deepened.
"Same with Bebop and me," the rhino replied. "We can't go into theatres, so most movies we rob from stores, but it brings unwanted attention. That's part'a the reason we want ya to help us, so we stay on the down low for a while."
"I see," I replied. "Do you like new releases?"
"Yeah, but only if it's gotta lotta action," the criminal said, taking another bite of his dinner. "I like it when stuff gets blown up or crushed; gives me ideas."
"Uh… Ideas for what?"
"Smashin' stuff. There's a junk lot near our place that's full of old cars and fridges and stuff. Sometimes I go back there and just break shit, just like I saw in the movie." He smiled. "One time, I completely demolished this old car in five seconds; it didn't even hurt!"
"Oh. That's… interesting." I once again made a mental note to not upset this guy, trying not to think of myself getting crushed like a soda can. "Other than movies, I read books sometimes; mainly what we have to read for school. I also like cooking, sometimes. Not for the restaurant, but in my free time, you know? If I had the time to cook something for me or for my family, not for the customers, I'd do it." I looked down at my food. "I used to do that with my mom when I was younger; she'd let me help make the cookies to bring to family get-togethers."
"You miss her, don't ya," Rocksteady asked quietly a few moments later, so unlike his usually loud speech.
I nodded. "She was… the only person who believed in me besides my Abue. Believed that I could do more than work at the restaurant, I mean. She encouraged me to go to school, to learn everything I could, to-" I swallowed, nearly mentioning her encouraging me to join the church and school choirs. "She was my best friend." I looked up at the mutant thug. "And truth be told, I haven't really had a friend since she died. Not at school or youth group. I'm friendly with some family members, but I wouldn't call them friends." I looked back down at the takeout box in my lap. "Sorry… I did it again."
"Did what again," Rocksteady asked curiously.
"Got all 'woe is me,' making myself sound pitiful and pathetic." I shook my head. "I don't mean to! It's just-"
"It's fine," the rhino thug assured me. "Ya can't help how your life was back then; all you can do is focus on how it's gonna be now."
I looked up at the mutant with surprise, not expecting something so philosophical [or smart] to come out of his mouth. The criminal gave me a small smile, and I could not but help return it, noticing that I no longer felt like I was in danger.
The communicator Rocksteady set on the ground buzzed, startling the two of us as we turned to look at it.
"Rocky," Bebop's voice cackled from the speaker. "Where the hell are ya?! Any sign of that kid yet?"
The thug picked up the communicator and hit the side button.
"I found him," he said into the speaker. "Left three blocks and up one from where you said he ran away. Alley near that bodega."
"I'll be right there! Don't let him get away!"
"I won't," I muttered, not loud enough for the mutant warthog to hear. I then spoke up as Rocksteady set the device back down. "So where do you two plan on taking me?"
"To a convenience store downtown for some food," the mutant rhino replied, closing his takeout box with some sadness and putting it back in the bag. "We need some food, plus Bebop's runnin' low on hair dye."
"He dyes his own hair," I asked. "I mean… it makes sense; I doubt he was mutated with a purple warthog, and I doubt he could walk into a salon."
"He's actually got a guy who does his hair for him; he just buys the hair dye somewhere else so it's cheaper, though he says it's because he likes that brand." The thug stood up, stretching his limbs. "You're welcome to buy a movie tonight if you'd like."
"What," I asked, closing my own takeout box.
"You said you don't really get to watch any new movies, so buy one for yourself," Rocksteady explained. "I'm sure Bebop won't mind; 'specially if I say it's part'a your payment."
"I… Thanks," I said, handing the takeout box to the mutant, who placed it back in the bag with the other food as I stood up. I hesitated for a few moments, finally working up the courage to speak again. "And… I believe you."
"What," the mutant rhino asked, a confused look on his face.
"That you and Bebop aren't gonna hurt me or make me do anything illegal," I explained. "And… I'm sorry for accusing you of being bad people earlier."
"Oh… It's fine," Rocksteady replied a moment later, looking down at his boots. "I mean, Bebop and I… we may not do any of that really bad stuff you accused us of, but we've still done some bad things." He looked up at me. "But you…" He shook his head. "Never mind."
"What," I asked, curious to know what he was going to say. "What about me?"
The mutant criminal hesitated before answering.
"You're… the first person who's come close to really trustin' us." He looked at me. "Thanks for that."
"No problem," I replied, right as a familiar van pulled into the alleyway, stopping next to us.
"Don't pull shit like that again," Bebop said from the driver's seat, pointing a warning finger at me. "Now hurry up ya two; let's get goin'!"
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Thankfully, the two mutants had been telling the truth about only wanting me to buy groceries for them. If one could even call them groceries; apparently, Bebop and Rocksteady only ate junk food like chips and those wrapped pastry snacks white moms put in their kid's lunches. Still, it was easier than grocery shopping with my family; my dad went to six different stores once a week to make sure he got the best prices, and I was one of the people that usually had the privilege of accompanying him.
"Okay," I said, putting the last of the bags in the back of the van. "You guys sure like Doritos."
"Sorry we can't eat fancy modafago or whatever it's called all the time," Bebop retorted from the front seat. "Ya remember the energy drinks?"
"Yep," I replied, closing the back doors and walking around to the front.
"And the cereal," Rocksteady asked as I got back in the front. "The kind with the little marshmallows in them?"
"Yes. How are you two still alive if all you eat is take out and junk food? This is pure sugar and chemicals."
"It ain't your business," the mutant warthog snapped, putting the van in drive and pulling out of the alleyway behind the store. "What we eat is what we eat."
"Fine," I replied, wondering if mutants could get away with eating that much junk food on a daily basis [though it would explain why they were both a little round in the middle]. "So you're taking me home now? Or are we gonna go to a video store?"
"Nope. We're goin' back to our place," Bebop replied, turning into the street.
"What," I asked, a thrill of fear running through my chest.
"Just to get somethin'," Rocksteady quickly explained. "We'll take you home right after, promise."
"What're you picking up," I asked.
"Ain't your business," the warthog thug said, scratching at his hair [which I noticed was brown at the roots]. "I hope ya ain't gonna make this a habit, askin' us a bunch of questions all the time."
"Depends if the question is stupid," I replied. "I won't ask stupid questions, but if I feel I might end up in a potentially dangerous situation, I'm gonna ask questions to make sure I'm safe."
I could almost see the mutant's eyes rolling beneath his sunglasses. "Looks like we got a pussy over here!"
"Real original," I muttered, turning to look out the tinted window.
"Too scared to be out on your own," the warthog continued. "That explains the pepper spray."
"You have pepper spray," Rocksteady asked me.
"Yeah. Being kidnapped makes you kinda paranoid," I stated, frowning at the mutant driver. "But seeing that I'm gonna be spending some time with you two, I'll be fearless within a few months."
"What's that supposed to mean," Bebop asked, his hands tightening on the wheel.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Besides, I know better than to get either of you upset."
"Smart," the mutant rhino agreed, grabbing his third takeout box from the nearby bag. "You should've seen the last guy who insulted Bebop here."
"He's sippin' from a straw now," the mutant warthog said when I looked at him questioningly, a cruel smirk on his face. "So unless ya like steak soup, I'd keep quiet."
"Again, I know better than to insult you," I said. "And I'm cooperating with you; you don't have to threaten me all the time."
"I'll do what I want," the thug replied. "Besides, it's funny watchin' ya squirm like a worm on a hook!"
I sighed, turning to look back out the window. Bebop was obviously an Arturo-type person, but without the manners or poise. No matter; I was used to people, at school and home, making fun and poking jokes at me. By now, it was like water rolling off my back. At least Rocksteady was kind, though he was laughing along with his friend at that last comment. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I checked it to see that it was Julia for the fifteen-minute check-in, wondering where I was.
Just delivered the food, I lied. Heading back now.
Fine, she replied a minute later. You doing okay? You haven't been kidnapped or anything? No thugs attacking you?
I looked back up at the mutants. Rocksteady was still nosily eating from a takeout box, and Bebop was picking at his ear, sniffing the bit of ear wax on his finger.
I'm fine, I assured her. I'll keep in touch as I head back.
Okay!
"Ya better not be tellin' anyone about us," Bebop said as I pocketed my phone.
"And be called crazy by my entire family," I asked. "And risk you two coming after me? I'm not an idiot."
The mutant warthog nodded. "Good."
"Why are you two so worried about people seeing you," I asked. "I mean, I thought you guys were wearing costumes the first time I saw you; if someone asked you could say you're going to a convention or something.
"People would still notice us," Rocksteady explained. "And we ain't exactly the most friendly-looking guys; we tend to cause a panic."
I nodded. "And I take it you're both trying to keep a low profile."
"Yeah. The cops are pretty annoying. And them turtles, too."
I opened my mouth to ask who the turtles were [wondering if they were also mutants], but Bebop cleared his throat before I could speak.
"So here's what we're thinkin'," the mutant warthog said. "A couple times a week, ya help us with a few small errands. We work around your restaurant shift, and we'll give ya some money to keep ya quiet."
"Oh, so you paying me is a bribe, not a thank you for doing a good job," I said, nodding a little. "How much?"
"How much are ya makin' at the restaurant?"
"Zero dollars an hour."
The thug tapped his finger on the steering wheel, waiting for the light to change with a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Fifty a week."
My eyes widened a little, and I did the quick math in my head. Fifty a week is about two-hundred a month. It was more money that I had ever made in my life, and while I had a feeling that the mutant criminal was low-balling me, I decided not to negotiate for more money.
"Deal," I said.
Bebop looked pretty surprised that I agreed so quickly, and the person behind us honked as the light turned green. Shaking his head, he started to drive.
"Good," the warthog replied. "Though if ya tell anyone about us or screw somethin' up, ya get nuthin'."
"Well, that's not completely true," I said. "You said you'd beat me up if I told anyone about you two." I sensed Rocksteady shifting in his seat, and I turned back to face him. "Don't worry; I don't plan on telling anyone, so you two will never have an excuse to hurt me." The mutant rhino smiled a little, and I could not help but smile too as I turned back to the front.
About fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front of a small, old-looking warehouse, and Rocksteady got out to unlock the door and open it for Bebop to drive the van in. Once we were inside, the rhino thug closed the door and hit a light switch, giving me my first look at what these two criminals called their home. .
"... Okay," I said, getting out of the van and looking around the space. "This is… something."
It was something, alright; even though I barely knew them, I had gotten the impression that Bebop and Rocksteady were not the tidiest individuals. That, or they naturally smelled like old takeout and dried blood as an after-effect of whatever mutated them. Nevertheless, I was unsurprised to see the messy place that the two mutants called home.
The central area in front of us looked like a living room, of sorts; long sectional couches, all mismatched and worn, were placed in a semi-circle around a flat screen TV. A DVD player, several gaming consoles, and dozens of DVDs and game discs were scattered around it, most of them missing their cases. Near the couches, dirty clothes and old takeout containers lay strewn about, some of which still had food in them. Off to the side of this were two makeshift beds, each of them covered in dirty clothes, and several posters with scantily-clad women hung on the nearby wall. And, to top it all off, various weapons, from guns to baseball bats to even a freaking sword, of all things, were laying around the warehouse. All in all, it was a chaotic, messy hellhole.
"Nice place," I said lightly, stepping over what looked like a bazooka. "You'd put most rebellious teenagers to shame."
"Thanks," Bebop said, though his frown showed that he had sensed my disgust. "Don't get too comfy; grab the stuff from the back and put them over there."
I doubt it's possible to get comfy in here, I thought, grabbing the bags from the back and taking them towards the living area. I managed to find some floor space that was not littered with food or dirty socks, and started to put the frozen meals and treats in a beat-up fridge that sat next to a small stack of three microwaves [seriously, how much do these guys eat in a day?!]. The smell of the place would take some getting used to, but after growing up to the smells of the family restaurant, I had gotten pretty good at learning how to block out unwanted scents.
So this is where they live, I thought, looking over at the two beds, pointedly avoiding the posters that had hanging nearby. The dreariness of the place, the stuffiness of the air, and the not-so-pleasant scent made me wonder if the two thugs liked living here. They seemed to show very little care for this place they called home, given how dirty the place was, and I noticed several cracks and dents in some of the walls, as if someone had angrily hit it with a fist.
"See," Rocksteady said, coming up behind me and pointing at one of the posters. "We ain't pedos."
"I… see," I agreed, clearing my throat and quickly turning to look up at the mutant. "So this is where you guys live?"
"Yep," the rhino replied, looking around the small warehouse with a small smile. "Home sweet home! Been livin' here since before we was mutants!"
"Really," I asked.
"Yeah. It's been our hideout since we were twenty," Rocksteady explained, leading me towards the living room space. "Grabbed these off a coupla moving vans, and the TV and games from an e-lec-tronics store." He sounded out the word 'electronics' slowly, as if not wanting to mispronounce it. "We also got a punching bag over there, but we gotta replace it every month or so 'cause we keep busting it."
"When ya two are finished with the grand tour, we gotta get goin'," Bebop spoke up, walking back to the van. "Hurry up, Robbie, unless ya don't wanna go home!"
My hands clenched into fists, and Rocksteady nudged my shoulder.
"Ignore him," he whispered to me. "He's just annoyed 'cause you couldn't buy booze for us."
"It's fine," I replied, walking over to the van. As soon as I got in, Bebop tossed something to me. Catching it, I saw it was an old flip phone with physical buttons on it.
"It's a burner phone," Bebop explained. "When we need ya for somethin', we'll text ya on that. Runnin' errands for us, takin' our clothes to a laundromat, maybe helpin' us move some stuff… ya don't ask any questions, we won't have any trouble."
"Nothing illegal," I asked.
"I just said no quest-" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose [or would it be snout?]. "Fine! How much longer until you're outta school?"
"A couple weeks, but I'll still be busy during the day," I explained. "I wake up early to help prep food for the lunch rush, work the lunch rush, then clean up after the lunch rush, and then get ready for dinner."
"Geez, don't ya ever get time to yourself," the mutant warthog asked, driving the van out of the warehouse as Rocksteady locked the door behind us.
"Welcome to the life of being forced to work in your family's restaurant," I said, putting a wide smile on my face. "Apparently, free time is only allowed if you're the favorite child, which I am not." I shrugged. "Besides, it's not like I have anything to do if I had free time."
"Yeah, sure," the criminal said, most likely rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "You kids are all the same, hangin' out and doin' stupid shit whenever ya can."
"You need friends in order to hang out," I muttered to myself, turning away from the mutant to look at the burner phone. "And I can't work Sundays."
"What's that?"
"I can't work Sundays. I have church and youth group, plus the occasional catering event for a Quinceañera."
"Ya got church all day?"
"Well… no, but-"
"And your family's restaurant's closed on Sunday," Bebop reminded me. "We checked."
"But I usually spend most of my Sundays at a family's place," I explained. "Where would I say I was going?"
"You're not makin' this easy," the mutant criminal told me as his friend got back in the car.
"What would you have me do," I asked. "Sneak out at night when everyone's asleep?"
"That could work," Rocksteady spoke up. "We're up most nights anyways, and ya won't have to worry about anyone if they're all asleep."
"And we wouldn't have to order food all the time," his friend added, a grin coming onto his face.
"I was just joking," I said, gaping at the two of them, realizing that they were seriously considering this. "And what if I get caught?"
"Ya won't get caught if you're smart about it," Bebop said. "What time are ya usually up in the mornin'?"
"Uh… five-thirty every day, except Sundays, which is eight."
"What time does everyone go to bed after the night shift?"
"My grandmother's in bed by ten each night, and my sisters are supposed to be asleep by eight. My dad usually goes to sleep around 11:30, and my older brother and I are usually in bed by midnight, unless one of us is cleaning. Then we're back in bed by 1:30 or two. My other family members usually leave the restaurant around 11:30-11:45 each night and go to their own homes."
"Hmm…" Bebop had a thoughtful expression on his face, driving us back towards Washington Heights. "Saturday nights would work best, since ya don't wake up early the next mornin'. Though if there was some way we could get ya durrin' the day…" He quickly glanced at me. "Ya don't work durrin' the day now because ya got school, right?"
"Yeah," I replied. "But I don't go to school in the sum-"
A sudden, crazy idea popped into my head. It surprised me how quickly this idea came to me, as well as how perfect this was. For a moment, I debated saying it out loud, since it would mean that I would be spending more time with the two thugs. But as I remembered what last summer was like, delivering meals in the heat and dealing with my cranky family members who complained about the heat nonstop, I knew what my decision was.
"What if I pretended I was in summer school," I suggested out loud.
The two mutants did not reply, sitting in their seats with surprised and thoughtful expressions on their faces.
"I mean, my grades aren't exactly the best now," I continued. "And I'm kinda good at Photoshop. What if I make a fake document for my dad that says I have to take summer school? Then I'd be free to do whatever from eight to four every weekday this summer. And even if you don't need me for anything, I'll finally be able to get a break from the restaurant without taking actual classes." I shrugged. "I mean, I'd still be willing to sneak out at night if you really want me to, but what do you two think of that idea?"
"That's… not a bad idea," Rocksteady finally said, nodding a little. "Bebop?"
The warthog criminal was still silent, staring at the road ahead as he drove down the street. With the sunglasses on, it was hard to tell what he was thinking, and I wondered what his answer would be. As time passed, I started to wonder if he had heard his friend, and the mutant rhino himself opened his mouth to ask again.
"Can ya make it look believable," Bebop finally asked, still not looking at me.
I nodded. "Yeah. My dad usually just signs anything I put in front of him for school. He might question it a bit more, but I know him; he won't call the school or anything to check."
The mutant thug nodded back at me. "Fine. Do it."
I nodded again, looking out the tinted window as a thrill of fear ran through my chest. Earlier that evening, I was fine with never seeing these two mutants again. Now, I had just come up with a way for me to spend more of my time with them, helping them with whatever they needed help with. Bebop was still harsh and crude, but at least Rocksteady seemed to be making an effort to be friendly, which was the first time anyone had ever done that for me. Plus, I'd be getting paid fifty a week, meaning that this job would be a whole lot better than delivering food for my family.
Maybe that was why I wanted to help these thugs out: so I could have a more interesting life. By helping them, I would be sneaking around my dad and the rest of my family, making more money than Arturo, and I would get to see more than my neighborhood as we travelled through the city. My life was always the same; I did the same jobs every day, saw the same people every day, and each day was predictable. But with Bebop and Rocksteady… they were like two wild cards that took my orderly day, shit on it, and tossed it out the window.
And while it was scary, I found the idea of breaking the rules and rebelling against my dad fun.
So it looks like Roberto and Rocksteady are slowly becoming friends, and that the trio are gearing up for a summer of errands, misadventures, and who knows what else? It should be fun!
Thank you everyone for reading this! Have a great day/weekend!
-aggiefrogger
I do not own Doritos