My first piece of writing on this site!

A decade late? Maybe.

Good? even decent? Probably not.

Fun? I'm having it.

Chapter 1

The start of a beautiful something or other

September 13, 1968, Friday

"This is the worst day of my freaking' life! You're like a bad luck charm, pal. I have known you for one day and lost my pride, de briefcase, and worse, my damn teeth. Maybe you should just screw off and go back to Russia! I can't freakin' believe this…" Jermey complained as he jiggled his front door open.

Mikail was starting to regret his "friendship" with this little twerp. Were all American kids like this? Obnoxious, bratty, and caring for only the stupid things in life (He would later learn it was around two-thirds leaning negative). He was ranting and raving for the past two and a half blocks. He only thought about this briefly before his "friend" interrupted his thoughts with a punctual sigh.

"Wanna soda? We got plenty in the fridge."

"...Ok."

Mikhail flopped on Jeremy's moth-eaten couch as the scrawnier of the two went to the kitchen. His house was nice enough, he guessed, better than back home, anyway. Only about a five-minute walk from his and in a similar state of disrepair as well, a lot more messy and lived in than his, but that went without saying. But still, nice enough. Mikhail grabbed the remote to the small black and white television and started flipping around. Static, static, static…

"Your television is broken!" Mikhail shouted from the TV room to the kitchen.

Jermey poked his head around the corner, "Nah, it ain't; just wiggle da rabbit ears on top, that'll fix it.".

Mikhail started to wiggle the mangled antenna atop the boxy television before Jermey reentered the room, a can of soda in each head.

"Drink up, pal." He chuckled as he tossed it to Misha before plopping onto the couch.

Misha inspected the bright yellow and red can, he could practically hear the bubbles stirring from the rough landing into his large palm.

"BONK?" Mikhail asked as he caught the drink while messing with the antenna on the television, listening for the static to retreat.

Jeremy pulled open the tab before taking a sip of the carbonated beverage. "Yeah, try some; it's real good."

Mikhail sat on the couch, opened the can, took a sniff, took a drink, and let out the most giant burp Jeremy had ever heard a mere three seconds later. Jeremy hit the floor in front of the couch, laughing, in his words, "His ass off."

"Dude, you like star trek?"

"What is that?"

"Buncha guys travel in space and meet aliens and crap. How 'bout Batman?"

"Who is Batman?" Mikhail felt stupid asking all these questions that seemed to be second-hand knowledge to Jeremy. Compounding this feeling was Jeremey's sudden turn to face Mikhail as his jaw practically hit the floor.

"Who is Batman?! Wadaya means Who is Batman? Only the best superhero eva! You wait here, I'll be right back."

Jeremy practically flew up the creaky stairs, leaving Mikhail alone on the couch, flipping through channels. He flipped through the aforementioned star trek, something about a man sending his wife to the moon (Americans must like space), a show about dogs, a game of baseball, a-.

"Yo, check this out. I borrowed these from my brotha, so don't get any crap on them."

Jeremy had brought down a large shoebox full of comic books, probably thousands of pages of conflict, action, cereal ads, and bad writing. Mikhail and Jeremy must have gone through all of them over the next two hours.

Mikhail was inclined to agree with Jermey, Batman was pretty awesome.

"Who is Saxton Hale?" Mikhail asked as he flipped through another comic, seeing his mustachioed face plastered all over an ad for an "Action Saxton" action figure.

"Oh, come ON, Mick! Everyone knows Saxton Hale!" Jermey said, "He's more popular den da president!"

"I guess, but who is he?" Mikhail was starting to get cross with Jeremy again. For as much as he talked, he said less than the average mute.

"Ahh, he's…OH! He's- Oh shit…"

Jermey's head whipped around to the door when the jiggling of keys started and stayed there while his mother and brothers entered through the door. Mikhail didn't realize how many brothers Jeremy had, four other children ranging from shorter than Jeremy, taller than Jeremy, and one even taller than his mother. As the wave of siblings slowly dissipated, going up the stairs, to the kitchen, and right back out the door, one brother collected his comics and gave Jeremy a sharp punch in the arm before being snapped at by his mother. Jermey didn't seem to care; he just stood there, seemingly fascinated with his shoes because he barely moved when his brother socked him in the bicep…he just stood there.

"Jermey, who's ya, friend?" His mother asked as she set down the groceries in the kitchen. She spoke with a very thick accent that Misha was unfamiliar with; he'd heard it before in an airport in New York during a layover on the way to Teufort, but he still wasn't sure where it was from.

"Uhhh, ahhh…Mikhail…he's a friend from school..he's new." Jeremy stammered over his words, clearly embarrassed, like how a dog acts when you catch them digging up your flower bed.

"You know you're not allowed friends over this week after that stunt you pulled with Mundy and Dell." She shouted over some hectic noise originating from another brother.

"Yeah, Ma, I know. I'm sorry. He just seemed like he needed a friend, Y'know? It's his first day at school and-"

"Jermey! Tell ya friend goodbye! You know what I said." She said sternly.

"Ok, Ma, sorry Ma…" Jeremy turned to Misha, "Yeah, I think you betta go..sorry, man."

Misha gathered his backpack, said goodbye to Jeremy and his mother, who, despite seeming quite stern when scolding Jeremy, was fairly nice when waving him off, and returned home. Despite the events that perspired earlier that afternoon, he was happy to have made something that could be considered a friend. Well, my friend might have been pushing it. Associate? Acquaintance perhaps?

"Mama, I am home!" Misha shouted out as he opened the door. His sister was sitting on the floor coloring while his mother was ironing a box of clothes that got wrinkled in the move.

"Misha, where were you?!" Misha's mother had nearly dropped the iron on the floor in shock when he opened the door. "I thought your classes ended at three o'clock? What on earth were you doing-"

"I made a friend, mama." Misha interrupted his mother, whose arms had fallen from their previously crossed position to their new "bear hug" position, squeezing Misha around the stomach.

"OH, my little grizzly bear!" She cooed, "I knew you would! There was nothing to worry about, you silly boy."

"Mama, you are crushing me." Heavy gasping for breath. But despite being bullied, beaten up, and nearly squeezed to death by his mother, it could have been a worse day…

For Jeremy, however, this day could have been worse if he had a heart attack and passed away. His shame and guilt had left him a sobbing mess under the covers. He knew his Ma didn't have the money to fix his teeth. The rest of his friends would kill him after they found out the briefcase was taken, and his brothers would tease him for crying under the covers like a girl; he felt so damn stupid.

"Jeremy? Are you under there, honey?" Jeremy could hear his mother call for him from outside of his covers.

"N-no…" He moaned, "I'm so sorry, Ma!"

"Oh, Jeremy." She sighed; she was used to her youngest getting into trouble at school with his friends. He was a self-identifying 'class clown,' which confused her as clowns normally made people laugh, not piss them off. She failed to see what was funny about flushing firecrackers down the toilet or putting gum in people's hair (She wasn't even sure who gave him the firecrackers). But she never saw Jeremy feel bad about anything he had done, except for now.

"They were bullying him, Ma…I couldn't just sit there and watch!" He wailed, coming out from under his covers and showing his red-eyed, tear-stained face to her.

"Well…You stood up for your friend…I'm proud of ya." She said, though not sure what to say. She'd raised two children into adulthood and was raising five others, including Jeremy. Somehow, all of her boys were predisposed to conflict, hell, this wasn't even the second time one of her boys came home missing teeth, but this was the first time getting beat up left one so…beat up. But it was also the first time she was proud that one of her boys got into a fight for a reason that wasn't pride or a girl.

"Maybe cut through da park next time on the way home?" She said, "Tell Mikhail that he is welcome to come over afta your grounding is ova. Ok, honey."

"Ok, Ma."

His mother's peck on the cheek didn't do much to dissuade his feelings of misery, but one word she said did, Proud. As much as he went against her instruction, he cared for his mother more than any of his brothers did. He had a lot of work to do.

"I'll make you proud, Ma…I promise." He whispered to himself as he fell into a determined sleep.

Hopefully, I didn't bog you down with too much stuff in the first chapter. I hope not.

Took me a month to get this to a point I liked it at, so hopefully, it's worth it.