Passing Looks and Disappointed Faces

[Continuing on with Frank's P.O.V.]

Trying to distract myself from the scene playing itself over in my head, I ran into a nearby convenience store, the first I could see.

Now, there was, again, not much to actually do here, except maybe try to steal a box of cigarettes again. But really, I wasn't much in a mood for something like that and you've really got to be in a mood for it. Sighing to myself, I placed my hands in my pockets, walking slowly around the store, picking up random objects as I passed them by. It must have looked pretty suspicious because soon, someone whom I assumed was shop owner kept throwing glares in my direction. Sure, blame the scrawny kid with a skull on his shirt for thievery. So, what if I had thought about stealing that delectable pack of cigarettes in that box case? It wasn't like I was going to do it...right now.

Chuckling to myself, I began searching in my pockets, wondering if I might have a spare buck to buy myself some gum or some candy or something of the sort. Unfortunately, the shop owner was finally tired of my dawdling and he began walking quickly at me, a glare on his face. It was at that moment that I was able to find two spare one-dollar bills in my pocket and with an "Ah-ha!" of triumph; I took them out, punching my fist in the air. It was that little yell of triumph that finally set off the shop owner. He came at me with a pistol in his outstretched arm and I could only stare as the barrel was pointed at my face. Ah, memories.

"Um-uh...hi?" I said, raising my arms in the air, my hand still clutching the bills tightly. I heard an echoing click burst through the air and I swallowed hard, the gun lowering itself to point at my thudding heart. Shit. "Um...uh, can I buy some candy?" I asked, my voice small and nearly insignificant in this tense atmosphere.

"Empty out your pockets," the man snarled, still aiming the gun directly at my chest. Slowly, so as not to upset him, I took pulled my pockets inside out, exposing the lint and random paperclip and string stored in one and the cell phone in the other. He grunted, lowering the gun, clicking on the safety again. I sighed in relief, nearly slumping against the nearest shelf. "I don't like you, kid," he said in the same guttural grunt-like voice he apparently had.

"Well, maybe I should leave then; I won't bother you ever again, I swear," I muttered, backing away slowly in case he changed his mind about shooting me. Once I was out of that little building, I ran blindly, hoping simply to find somewhere safe where I wouldn't get a bucket thrown at me or a gun pointed in my face. Today sure had been an increasingly odd day.

Honestly, though, I'm hopelessly lost. Maybe I shouldn't be, this being the city I was born in and grew up in; still I have no idea where I am. Of course, I had never had a very good sense of direction but this was ridiculous. Everything looked just vaguely familiar but everything was still unknown to me. It was frustrating, looking upon building after identical building, thinking I had been there but feeling I had not. Sighing, thinking it might get me even more lost, I continued walking, trying hard to distinguish any landmark that would give me an indication as to my location. Oh, fuck; that rhymed.

Shaking my head at my own thoughts, my feet leading me in some random direction, I began humming songs that came to mind. In the middle of a song, I would just switch to another, suddenly getting the urge to sing that song. Finally, something seemed familiar and I paused in my humming and walking, turning my head to stare intensely at a sign. Oh God; I smacked myself in the head. I was just standing in front of my grandfather's neighborhood. No wonder it seemed familiar. Well, I might as well go in; my grandfather was my hero and he could possibly offer some sort of shelter whilst I'm still unsure whether my own mother wants me back.

I walked in as surreptitiously as I could, though of course the guard knew me; he knew my by name and everything and could instantly tell where I was headed. I groaned when he called out to me but for once I didn't bother to stick around and listen to some mundane conversation about his job and how he wanted to get out and be a cop already. I began running, hoping it would quell his desire to speak with me. In no time I was standing, wheezing, in front of my grandfather's house. His house was infinitely better than mine with a perfectly manicured flower garden and intricate lawn ornaments. A large oak stood at either side of the blue façade of the house, painted vines winding their way along the black trim.

I walked to the sturdy wooden front door, knocking twice. There was no answer. I knocked again, harder now, remembering my grandmother was nearly deaf already and my grandfather was probably listening to old records in his room. Still, there was only silence. Sighing, I made my way around to the side of the house, peering in through the bedroom window. The blinds were drawn and no light permeated them. Making moans and groans of despair, I walked around to the back of the house, vaulting the fence around the balcony. I reached for the door knob and tried to turn it; it was locked. They must be out. That had to be it. They always locked everything before they left; they were quite paranoid for stuff like that.

Now where could I go? I sat down on the porch, staring out at the street, deep in thought. Finally resolving to walk around in aimless circles through the city, I remembered a nearby liquor store I might be able to get some beer from. The owner was a great friend of my grandpa's and he could probably give me a can or bottle if I said it was for him. So that became my destination; finally, somewhere fixed that I could find. The walk was rather long, though of course it would have only been about ten minutes in a car. When I finally reached it, streams of sweat were pouring down my face and neck and the thirst for a good cold beer became imminent. I walked to the front and asked for a James Cabel; the man came almost instantly when he heard it was the grandson of his dearest friend.

"What can I do for you, boy?" he asked kindly, flashing me a nearly toothless smile. I grinned back at him despite the heat and exhaustion.

"Just a bottle of beer, please; we ran out at home and my grandpa would really like one. Except...he didn't give me the money for one; he asked if I could ask you if he could pay for it on his next visit over." I gave him my most innocent smile, leaning over the counter with hope bursting through my heart.

"Oh, it's on the house; but tell your grandpa he owes me a domino game," Cabel said, winking at me and passing me the cold clear bottle. It was one of the best, a large bottle with scratches or imperfections. I raised the beer in a mock toast and grinned again, expressing my thanks; it was only polite. Besides, he gave me free beer; that's a definite plus. "See you later, sonny," he shouted as a manner of good-bye, waving at me. I quickly went in the alley beside the store, cracking open the bottle as quickly as I could pry the cap off, taking a large gulp. It was incredibly bitter-all beer is-and yet it was utterly refreshing as it slipped down my throat and cooled my insides.

After that first gulp, I continued walking, focusing only on my beer and not on where I was going. Sure, it was a mistake; I could be kidnapped so easily but still I walked on, nursing my beer, running the cool glass over my head and neck periodically. I kept on this way until something abruptly stopped me. Well, it wasn't as much a something as a someone but still, it ceased my movements and sent me crashing to the cement, my half-empty bottle still clutched tightly in my hand. The first thing I decided to check, surprisingly, was to see if my beer was okay. After I had established it was, I turned my attention to what had stopped me. My mouth fell open in shock; I surely hadn't expected this.