So not proud of this, though it's LOOONG :D so sorry for any mistakes in this, I'm so tired right now so DEAL WIT IT

Chapter 11

Well, Joice keeps going out, and I'm still clueless about where she's going. It's not like I can do anything about it though. I'm just confused as to why she never tells me anything. It bothers me, but I never do anything about it but question her, and she still tells me nothing.

Today, I came back around dinnertime, and she had come back from whatever she was out doing. She made food, too, so I sat down and ate it without waiting for her to come downstairs from the shower.

Apart from her constant disappearances, not much had really had changed between us two, and life continued on. She came downstairs before I finished dinner, and we talked and all of that shit. After that though, Joice went back upstairs and straight to sleep.

For once, I woke up before she left. This was worth a shot...

"Joice!" I called, right before she left. She turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" She answered.

"Where are you going?"

She gave me a lazy grin in return. "Nowhere in particular."

Don't give me that bullshit, lady. It's like she's going to nightclubs or something. I sighed in defeat. "Fine whatever. When will you be back?"

She gave me another half-baked answer.

"I'll get back when I do."

Tch. That girl thinks she's on top of everything, doesn't she. What imprudence.

I'm muttering such things to myself as I head towards a pawn shop, intent on emptying its contents by about point-zero-two percent.

When I reach the store and step inside, though, I can tell that someone else is after my prize. She's seen me before, and I've seen her. Another thief like me, wearing old red shorts and a blue shirt, with these stiff looking boots that seem pretty heavy. This girl is eyeing me like a hawk. I choose to ignore her and pick up a beat up looking baseball trophy, but at the same moment she puts her hands on it.

"It's mine! I touched it first!" She whispered, pulling on the trophy. I pulled back vigorously.

"No, it's mine! I need money!"

She looked me over. "I need it more!" She brought her foot down on my toe. What burning pain! I yelled out in agony, letting go of the trophy to tend to my foot. What the hell was that shoe made out of? My toes are bent really awkwardly, and that girl's gone. Too bad for me, I wear sandals...

"Get back here!" I run out of the pawn shop to chase her, and I catch up easy. There's no way she's beating me at my own game and besides...

I reach into my back pocket. My wallet's gone.

By the time I tackle her down, we're in a very familiar place - That antique store I got my first sword in.

"Where're your parents, kid?" I ask gruffly as she squirms. "Get off!" She yells, kicking outward. By now I probably have a few bruises, but I hold on and bring her to her feet, snatching back the trophy. The girl punches my cheek and even though her puny hands don't really cause me much harm, I find it very annoying. It's like fleas breathing on me every time she hits me, until she uses her feet.

"It's mine it's mine it's mine!" She hollered, and I start to push her away with the handle end of my sword.

Suddenly though, she tackles me, causing us to roll on the ground as if we're in some kind of cartoon, hitting each other ferociously as we go. I can tell she's leading me somewhere, because every now and then she rolls in a specific direction and taunts.

Typical children. She's taking me closer to wherever she lives, to her parents or something. And low and behold, I'm right. After a few minutes of yelling and tumbling, she gets up and runs to the door of an older looking house, waving the trophy over her head. "Mom!" She yells, "Mom, come see! This idiot's attacking me for some stupid trophy!"

Oh, she wants to play that game, huh?

I tackle her before she gets to the door, so that we're both right outside of it on the front porch. The girl pushes me downward and bangs on the door. "Mom!"

I wince as I pull on my sore - broken by now, toe, and grab her from behind. I'm too busy arguing with this little kid to notice who opens the door.

"Carrot top!" She calls me.

"Snake eyes!" I yell back.

"Dipstick!" She laughs, and I turn a little red. "Ironclad kid!" I seethed.

Suddenly the one at the door clears his throat, so naturally I turn to face him. As soon as I make this move I turn pale. I'm quite sure I'm hallucinating.

I can't mistake my own hair colour, nor can I with my eyes. That's my father - The stubble on his chin is even there. It's just... impossible...

"Hello?" He chuckles, "Rhino, who's this?" Even as he adjusts his glasses I can tell. His voice is different though, a bit more strained, like he's gotten older. The kid - Rhino, laughs again. "I call him Dipstick! He tried to take the trophy I totally bought."

"Oh whoa," I laugh nervously, "I didn't steal anything - In fact, I caught her trying to steal it."

That comment created an argument which ultimately ended in me throwing the baseball trophy in the wrong direction, breaking the window. Rhino's father - or mine, I guess, sat us both down on the couch and gave us an hour or two long talk about how we should be more responsible and whatever. This made me smile a bit - I'd been given the longer version of this talk too many times to count. It kind of breaks my heart in that cool way, seeing him happy again. Even though I'm curious as to how he's alive, there's always the fact that this couldn't be my father.

"And for that matter, who are you, Mr. Dipstick?"

Should I tell him? I'm not quite sure if it's worth reuniting with my family at this point - They've certainly gotten over it, and adopted as well... Well, I'm not sure if this kid's adopted, but she sure looks like it.

"My name is Kay." I can see his eyes widen a bit; perhaps he recognizes me, so I continue on. "I'm a... uh..." What was I...? "I run a meat store."

Damnit, a meat store?

"Really now?" He laughs, and then sits down next to me. "You know, I'll be straightforward about this... you remind me of someone." This is it. He's gonna say something about it. That or he already knows, the wise guy. I know I'm not ready to say anything yet - maybe he's just waiting for that day when both he and my mom - if she's, you know, alive - are there, and everything's happy, and...

"Who?" I smile.

"Well, my son died fifteen years back, and I think he'd grow up to be a little bit like you. Not to say that I know you, It's just..." He stops.

"I know what you mean." I smile, and stand. "I have to go now, Gina." He grins at me as I use his nickname, and it's like looking in a mirror. A mirror that adds stubble.

I don't want to live with them again... I think that's all I really needed; just to see my dad smile again. It's over. I'm not even really interested in how he's alive. I'm just glad he is.

Unless of course, I invited Joice to meet him. "Oh, hell no." I laughed aloud, "Like that's going to happen."

By the time I'm back home, it's nighttime, and Joice hasn't arrived yet. I run upstairs on my heels and bandage up my poor little toes, gluing toothpicks together to make makeshift splints for them. My stomach is growling loudly, so I tiptoe downstairs before I hear:

"Bit off more than I could chew..."

It's Joice. She's back. And she's hurt badly. I can feel my face reddening again. "Joice?" I say, a bit surprised at how startled I sound. She looks up and her cheeks heat up real bad before she looks back down. "Hello, Mr. Kay." She continues whatever she's doing - stitching a wound, I think.

"What the hell happened to you?!" I demand.

She used that stiff voice she always does when I ask this sort of thing, and said, "Nothing serious. Don't worry about it." Nothing serious. This woman is nuts.

"You're joking, right?! Nothing serious?" I'm so done. This is crazy. She could at least tell me something, right?! I'm so confused! And after a happy - I glance down at my toes - okay, relatively happy day, too!

"Go back to sleep, Kay. What're you doing up, anyway?"

Fixing my toes before they're marred forever, that's what. "Do you need help?" I ask.

"Not from you, now get out."

Jesus... help me.

She'd stopped stitching for some reason, and I just kinda stood there, dumbfounded and all that. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tzumani, but I really can't tell you." Joice muttered, "Just go on with yourelf."

I'll go on with myself all right... "Jeez..."

I walked upstairs without another word.