Hi guys! I have not written a story in so long, due to the pandemic happening and other unforeseen circumstances. I hope you are all surviving and hopefully this story will help you escape for a few minutes into another world. The Prodigal Son world of Malcolm and all his drama. This is a prequel to the series and yes he does manage to get into some trouble.
New York: Malcom's Teen Years
"Look Gil, we can't keep throwing the kid back to you when he gets caught commit'ten crimes ya know." The sergeant scolded Arroyo at the front desk of the NYPD station, and Gil leaned over the desk close enough the sergeant could hear his whisper. "Listen Brody, my kid, he won't be in here anymore after we have a little chat." Gil's voice was stern and unwavering. Sergeant Brody looked up at Gil, "Arroyo, you said that last time, and guess what? I got a call for a kid break'en into all the payphones around the city, for quort'as." He huffed and since he was irritated his New Jersey accent was thicker than normal. Gil shrugged his shoulders, "Bring him out Brody, and if you want to press charges for quarters, then I won't stop you." Brody stood up, "Nah, not worth the paperwork, but next time Arroyo mark my words, I won't be throw'en him back to ya."
Gil watched Brody walk away disappearing down the hallway to the holding cells and he pulled out his cell phone. He ran his hand down his face through his goatee and sighed heavily. He dialed a familiar number, "Hey Jess, no, no, it's okay, he's fine. Calm down, the kids fine, well for now until I get him home. Yeah, I'll tell him, and don't worry I'll have him call you tonight before bed. Yeah, Jackie's out of town for the month at the teachers' summer program in Jersey." He looked up from his phone to see the kid walking towards him, rubbing his wrists. Brody's hand was gripping his shoulder and he could see Malcolm's crystal blue eyes go wide when he saw him. "Yeah, here comes the criminal now Jess, I gotta go. I will Jess, don't worry, okay. Bye."
Brody gently pushed Malcolm towards Gil and Gil grabbed him embracing the 14-year-old. "I was worried kid, what were you thinking?" Gil was furious but that'd have to wait, his kid was safely in his arms. "I'm sorry Gil," Malcolm whispered; his mouth muffled against Gils heavy black winter coat. Gil pushed Malcolm back, he had heavy dark circles under his eyes and his shaggy brown hair was sticking up everywhere. His pale skin looked ashen and Gil sighed heavily, "I think you're apologizing to the wrong person here kid." He turned Mal towards Brody and Mal's eyes darted to the gray concrete floor, "I'm sorry sir, for the trouble I caused and it won't happen again." Brody felt awkward about the situation and nodded. Gil gripped Mal's shoulder, "When we're apologizing Malcolm James Whitley, we look into the persons' eyes. It's a sign of respect."
Malcolm swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, Gil just used his full name and that meant he was in huge trouble. Malcolm's eyes shot up, "I'm sorry sir, and I'm going to be punished for this. I'm not just getting off scot-free, and it won't happen again." Malcolm's voice came off guilty and remorseful. Brody now felt even more awkward, "Oh, umm, yeah kid, well, just don't come back again." Brody's cheeks slightly blushed and Gil stuck his hand out, "Thank you, Brody, have a good night." Gil grabbed both of Malcolm's shoulders leading him out into the snow-filled night.
Gil lived a couple of blocks down from the station so they started walking to his place, the cold snow was no longer falling. Gil wanted to talk to the kid, but he was too angry. They'd been here before and he thought they'd gotten past this phase. Malcolm James Whitly, was one of the most prestige's names, he had an unlimited supply of money. Quarters, why would the kid need quarters? Malcolm was wearing a warm jacket and brown scarf but he was still shivering. The snow was wet, and he could see Mal's jeans were wet at the ankles, "When we get home, I want you to take a hot shower and get into your pajamas." Gil's voice was soft but had a hint of anger behind his words. "What about Mom? She doesn't want me home with her?" Malcolm whined. Gil hated when Malcolm didn't take responsibility for his mistakes because it meant he was trying to get away with them.
"You know kid, she doesn't handle your misbehaviors and she insisted you stay with me for the next week. She says you've been giving her a hard time and not listening; she didn't even know you left the house and was worried sick." Gil's voice was empathetic but he was angry that Malcolm had been acting out so much lately. "Giiiiil." Malcolm whined out and stopped walking. "No Malcolm, we are not making a scene in the middle of the street, get moving and you won't earn extra's." Gil's voice was stern and he hoped he wouldn't have to whack the kid on the sidewalk, but he would.
Malcolm's cheeks burned with embarrassment and he looked around to see if anyone heard Gil. Luckily, for his sake no one overheard and he dropped his head. Eventually, they made it to Gil's brownstone porch and they hung their coats, taking off their winter boots. The house was warm and the floors were deep cherry hardwood that opened to the kitchen. "Mal, go get your shower, and please check your medication to make sure there's a week's supply." Malcolm huffed loudly crossing his arms across his chest in protest, "No Gil, I want to go home with Mom, and I promise I'll be better! I won't yell at her anymore or slam doors. I'll be quieter when I have nightmares and I won't wake Mom or Ainsley." Malcolm's voice sounded small and hurt.
Malcolm's eyes filled with tears and Gil sighed, running his hand down his face. Mal's therapist, Le Deux, says Gil needs to stay firm and follow through with the kid's punishments, but he just sees this broken child in front of him. It's his job to make it better, but he's seen Malcolm say these things before. He knows he feels like what the kid is saying is genuine, but it doesn't excuse his behavior. "I understand everything you're saying kid, I do, but that doesn't…" Gil felt his anger getting the best of him, "come here kid." Malcolm was crying at this point and flung himself into Gils waiting arms.
Gil ran his hand through the kid's golden-brown hair and rubbed his upper back hoping to soothe the kid. They stayed this way for a good five minutes, still in the doorway of the cozy two-bedroom house. Gil kissed the top of his head, "Alright Mal, I want you to go grab your shower and get ready for bed." Mal wiped his tears pushing away from Gil, "Ok, but it's only eight and…" Mal's voice whined and Gil had enough of these games. Gently he cupped the side of Malcolm's face, "Look kid, I'm not thrilled about this, but you're just earning yourself extra's by not doing what you're told."
Malcolm burst into tears again, "No, you didn't even give me a warning! That's not fair Gil!" He yelled frustrated. Gil sighed heavily; was this the behavior Jess was talking about? His outbursts and defiant behavior? He'd never experienced the kid throwing these tantrums in his house. Mal was always so well behaved and loved spending time here cooking with Jackie, playing catch with Gil in the small backyard, what changed? He let go of Malcolm's face, "That's five extra's so far Mal, and if you want to continue this fit of yours, it'll be more." Malcolm backed up and stomped his white socked foot down. "You're being unfair Gil!" He screamed. Gil stood his ground even though he wanted more than anything to comfort his boy, "Keep going Mal, see where that gets you." His voice came out stern and composed. This enraged Malcolm, he wanted Gil to fold and coddle him. His Mother would have by now, so he quickly grabbed his black winter boot from the door entrance and threw it. He was aiming for Gil's head but it flew past him slamming into the wood doors glass paneling. The heavy boot shattered the glass pane and Gil ducked dodging the glass.
Malcolm's eyes got big and his mouth hung open in shock. Gil felt anger erupt inside of him, but he took a few deep breaths. As he stood glass shards fell off him and he looked to see the glass had shattered. He immediately looked at Malcolm who looked like a statue still in place, with a look of disbelief written all over his face. His eyes were as big as saucers and his hand trembled against his leg. Good the kid was scared, he should be, but Gil was still too angry to trust himself to speak.
Malcolm's eyes caught Gil's eyes and he knew that he was in serious trouble. "Gil, I, I'm sorry, please, I didn't know what I was doing." Malcolm's breath was rushed and panicked. Gil promised himself years ago, he'd never punish his kid in anger. Especially this kid, "Don't Malcolm James Whitly, you will go carefully to the kitchen and get the broom. You'll grab a dustpan and the trash can. You're not wearing any shoes, so you'll hand them to me while I sweep this up. After, you'll find a large trash bag so we can seal the window for now, until we can get to the hardware store tomorrow. You will fix this window yourself," Malcolm opened his mouth but Gil threw up his index finger quieting the boy, "No, I'm speaking and you will fix the mess you've made. No excuses Malcolm, and after we tape the window, you will go take a shower. We're having a very long discussion at bedtime."
Mal's eyes puddled with glistening tears but he shook his head yes and went to the kitchen to grab the broom. Gil took the broom sweeping up the glass until he felt safe in his black socks to walk across the living room to grab the vacuum. Mal came back with the trash bag but didn't dare move to the doorway without Gil's permission. Gil was grateful for that and finished vacuuming the entryway, satisfied he got all the glass. As he put the vacuum back, he grabbed a roll of electrical tape he had in a drawer near the tv.
"Bring the bag here Mal, and let's get this taped up." Gil's voice was soft, he wasn't trying to be mean towards Mal, so he coaxed the boy over. As he and Mal stretched up to the top of the window to tape, he saw the boy had grown. When he met him Mal came up to his torso, but now he was to his chest. When did that happen? They finished securing the bag, and Malcolm wished they hadn't. He turned to Gil, "I'm really sorry Gil, I…." Gil gently pulled the kid towards him patting his chest to calm Malcolm's breathing down. He didn't need the kid to have a panic attack. "I know kid, I know, but that doesn't change what you did? Go get in the shower and get your pajamas on and come back out here."
Malcolm felt so guilty for his behavior, and he knew the best way to get Gil to forgive him was to start listening. Malcolm looked up at Gil, "Ok, I'm sorry." He whispered and he turned walking towards the hallway and soon he was gone. Gil let out a soft groan and practiced a breathing exercise he learned from his wife, Jackie. He wasn't sure what to do and suddenly he was startled by a knock on the front door. He rolled his eyes, what now?! As he pulled open the heavy mahogany door, he saw her striking brown eyes. "Oh my God Gil what happened to the glass?" She gasped putting her small delicate hand over her mouth. "Hey Jess,"