The Kid

“Hey,  I promised I was coming back to shoot you. Wait here. I’ll be back” The 8 year old and his sister darted from the sidewalk and disappeared into his apartment. I was sitting outside reading a book and smoking my pipe when the pipsqueak came back. He aimed a screaming neon Nerf gun at me. I put up my hand to shield the foam bullet. Which is when he pulled the trigger. It launched from the barrel and hit my hand. Wow. That thing had a kick. I thought to myself “Motherfucker, you kids play with things like this?” He laughed maniacally. I’d seen him before. With a gang of other punk kids.

I think he was very curious about me. Not sure why. I wanted to be alone. I ignored him in previous outings. He seemed like a precocious spaz. Me at that age. I wish he’d leave me alone. But he stuck around. Most likely bored. He decided to drag back a whole tub of other Nerf brand guns and proceeded to show me his weaponry. A TON of Nerf crap. I really wanted him to leave me alone.

Me: “Say, what grade you in, 2^nd?”

Kid: “No. Third.”

Me: “Dontcha’ have homework to do then?”

Kid: “I already did four segments. I’m in magnate school.”

I didn’t know what the fuck that was.

Kid: “Hey, did you see Hector?”

I didn’t know who the fuck Hector was. That’s when he dragged the fat black cat that’s been looming around the complex back.

Me: “Oh, I thought he had a different name.”

Kid: “No, he’s Hector. I have the same cat. Except skinnier.”

Me: “What’s YOUR cat’s name?”

Kid: “Little Dragon.” So much for real names like Hector.

Me: “You know what I think, dude?”

Kid was curious now. What could a long haired Asian guy possibly come up with here. “What?”

Me: “I think you’re procrastinating.”

Kid: “What’s procras…procras…procr…?”

Me: “It means you’re wasting time because you don’t want to do your homework. I know this trick. I’ve done it.” Maybe if the shit went to school, he’d extend his vocab.

He looked down, studied his gun. CAUGHT YA’ LI’L FUCKER!

Kid: “No. I already did four segments.”

Me: “Some…is not all.” Jesus, did I sound like a douche.

He seemed genuinely impressed though. That I was that alert to his scheme. I was a kid once too. A LONG time ago.

The rest of the time I spent the conversation attempting to get him to get me some candy when he goes Hallowe’en trick or treating (it being a week away). I had to convince the shit that I was too old to go. Then I bribed him to trade candy for candy. I would get a bag of candy and he’d go out and get the loot, bring it back to me and we’d trade. There was a huge caveat here though:

1)   NO FUCKING CANDY CORN. That shit sucks.

2)   No hard candy. No peppermints or butterscotch old lady shit. No one eats that crap.

3)   Get as much Skittles as you can

The Kid agreed. And disappeared. So I thought. He came back later knocked on my door. Scratch that. Pounded the shit outta’ my door to open it. I dragged myself from the Bronco/Charger Thursday night football game. He was holding up the stupid black fucking cat making it wave goodnight to me. I rolled my eyes. Great. Looks like I made a friend. Hope he brings me my candy. I shut the door in his face.