(Flashback)
"…Look. I don't wanna be here. You guys don't want me here. How about we help each other out?"
"So what'cha got in mind champ?" Kid asked while unwrapping for himself a cherry lollypop.
"Just some way to fix my grades enough that I can get back into Mr. Simpson's sixth grade class." Brawny said. "And to make it look official like, y'know?"
Kid and Gerard shared a knowing look of fear amongst themselves, the kind reserved for two parties privy to information weighing their conscience.
"You guys know someone don't you?"
"Well, between me and my friend Wooly Mittens, there is someone who can get you out of your jam…but…"
"But what? Unless they're going to keep my voice in a seashell-"
"Oh, that's the least of your worries with Big Nino."
As Kid gave his friend an elbow to the gut, Brawny could feel his otherwise dormant mental faculties slowly churn to life. He now had a name, but the puzzle still remained far from complete.
"What can you tell me about this Big Nino?"
"The lore of Big Nino will be handed down from kid peer group to kid peer group." Gerard piped up quickly while gesturing to his friend. "Kid is the Warden of Local Lore-"
"-And he better start spilling or else." Brawny finished as he made his hand a fist and beat it into his palm.
"My man, my man. No need to flex so hard." Kid said putting up his arms. "Born in Kiev amidst the rubble of the Iron Curtain, Antonina Dumenkova (or Big Nino as we all know her) was the daughter of a bodyguard for one of the most terrifying mobsters in the country. From sweets and sidewalk chalk to smart phones and [Nancy] Spumoni signature snow boots, she always can manage to find a way to get whatever a kid can want…for a price!"
"And where can I find her?"
True to Kid and Gerard's word, at the end of Primary Ave right before the last exit along the highway lies a small almost derelict and unassuming Ukrainian Restaurant with a red roof; behind which was a tin shack with a wooden door.
Brawny considered himself to be a brave person through and through. Yet as he looked at the establishment across the street, a chill ran up and down his spine like runners in a relay race over what lurked past the threshold of the place. But it paled in comparison to coming face to face with Nino's goons; a threesome of the burliest triplets imaginable with shaved heads, sunglasses and sharp black Abibos brand track suits, sharp shoes and a gold chain. They stood like a human wall, guarding this shack while possessing both indistinguishability from one another as well as the collective strength to crush him like an empty soda can if they so desired.
"What are you thinking you're doing here?!" Shouted one of the goons.
"I am here to see Big Nino." Brawny answered.
"Are you having appointment with Big Nino?" Said a second goon.
"How do I do that?"
"Big Nino doesn't make appointments." The first goon shot back.
"PLEASE!" Brawny pleaded. "I need to see her! I'M DESPREATE YOU HEAR ME?! DESPRATE!"
The three goons looked at each other for a moment, and after pursing their lips (knowing their boss' displeasure at being disturbed with unannounced 'clients'), they usher Brawny inside the caliginous little shed. She sat at her desk in the corner, ominously glaring at the foursome coming through her threshold. She stood somewhere under five feet and much like her bodyguards felt at home clad in a black Abibos brand track suit, sharp shoes and a gold chain. Her brown hair had been tied in a ponytail and a white ushanka hat topped her head.
"Ivan. Igor. Ilia." She said calmly in a light Slavic accent. "Please let me know what part of 'don't disturb me' escaped the space between your ears."
"The fault…the fault is mine…" Brawny said throwing himself at her desk. "My name is-"
"Brawny." She interjected. "Up to the day before yesterday you were a seventh grader in the class of Randall Simpson. You failed a very important standardized test and the principal was disgusted. Oh please, I have eyes and ears in places you can't even begin to imagine. So, I guess you're showing up with hopes of having me clean up and coming to the rescue?"
"I already repeated a grade once before…" Brawny began almost on the edge of tears.
The girl held up her hand to silence him. Going back to her desk, Nino pours herself a glass of vodka (or more appropriately, water from a vodka bottle). A pensive look seizes her as she sips at the glass, occasionally swishing some of it around while mulling out how to best help Brawny, and more importantly what price he would pay for her services. After five minutes, the last mouthful had been swallowed and Nino clears her throat; signaling that negotiations will resume.
"What you're asking for…it's…it's highly unorthodox. But I didn't say it was impossible. My father has some…friends, shall we say, who owe him favors. Friends that happen to be good with computers. By the end of the month, consider it done."
"Thank you…" Brawny said bending his knees and kissing her hand in gratitude. "Oh, sweet holy Christ thank you."
(MARCH 1)
Today was supposed to be the day he'd be back in Mr. Simpson's class. Instead, as the big hand inched its way towards the 2 on the clock above the doorway, Brawny found himself sulking in a desk two sizes too small waiting to begin remedial classes. Sitting to his right was Fifi Henderson who fidgeted and wrung her hands while awaiting this lesson. Casting a disdainful look at his phone screen, Brawny's eyes zero in on the third most recent phone number in the list of calls he had received.
"…we had a deal!"
"And believe me. This isn't exactly how I wanted to end things. But there are some people who are looking for my dad and… you got to, how they say, get out of dodge." Nino said as her heavies burned the ledgers of students who had come to her for assorted services.
"Great, that's perfect. Thanks Lucky me, huh?" Brawny replied sarcastically. "You're leaving me stuck-"
"I'm leaving you with your life! Consider that a gift!"
And with that click. That was the last Thicket Valley had heard of Big Nino.