Billie Joe's Third Son
Joey's birth
February 17. 2003
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to the fancy, hottie, enjoyed, motherly..."
"Leave it Tré," I said cutting him of.
"Come on honey, puff the lights," Adie said, nodding towards my birthday cake with thirty-one candles on it.
"If you don't puff all of them at once, you have a girlfriend," Joseph said grinning. Tré laughed. I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, and I'm not married to your mother by the way," I sarcasticly said, smiling back at him.
*
After hours with birthday presents, cake and different food and drink, I finally got some time for myself.
"Come on Joey, bed's waiting," I heard Adie yell from inside. I leaned back in the veranda chair, closing my eyes. It'd been fourteen years since I'd seen my oldest son, one year old. The memories made a shiver run down my spine.
*
February 17. 1988
"It's a boy," the nurse said, handing him to me. Regina ( Joey's Mum ) was breathing heavily after the birth. She slowly sat up, and looked at me with sad eyes.
"I'm sorry putting you through all of this," she whispered.
I didn't reply. I looked at the little boy I held in my arms. He didn't seem to notice he was born yet, he wasn't screaming or anything, making me think he was dead. Almost. He was so beautiful. My first boy, and I was only sixteen.
"No, I'm the one who should be apologising," I finally spoke, not taking my eyes of my newborn son.
"Why?" she replied, still not taking her eyes of me. Like she hadn't noticed she'd just had her first son. For the second time, I didn't reply.
"I will get to see him, right?" I asked instead. She smiled.
"Of course. You're the father."
I looked at him again. Billie Joe Armstrong the second was born.
*
February 11. 1989
"There you go Billie," I said, handing him my stepfather's car keys.
"Just don't tell Brad, or he'll be very, very mad at Daddy."
He giggled, and started to play with the keys. Mike laughed.
"Just like you Billie," he said shaking his head in laughter. "Just like you."
I looked deeply into my green eyed boy's eyes, born on the same day as me.
"You know what kiddo? Soon daddy'll be seventeen, and you'll be one. You know what that means? Loads of c..."
"There you are!" Regina yelled, picking her son up. Mine as well, to correct myself.
"Where'd you come from?" I said, dumbfounded and confused.
"I need to speak to you," she replied. "I need to speak to you alone."
Mike nodded towards her and left.
"Jesus," she said, grabbing Brad's keys from Billie's grasp. He started screaming and crying, so she had to give them back to him.
"Who's keys are these?!"
"Brad's.." I replied, without finishing. She didn't let me. Something was in the air, I could feel it.
"He could swallow these, Billie!" she yelled at me.
"Wow, wow, wow.. Slow down babe.. He can't swallow those."
"Yes he can, and I'm not your 'babe,' all we had was a fling," she replied. I nodded.
"So, watcha' wanna talk about?" I said, having a feeling I wasn't going to like what I was about to hear.
"You're not responsible enough to take care of a one year old, Billie Joe," she said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued.
"You're only seventeen yourself. I've met this guy from Scotland, older guy, who'll know how to handle a little child, something you won't be able to. What I'm really trying to say is.. He's, well.. Billie's coming with me."
My mouth must've dropped wide opened. He was the only one I loved in this world, and she were taking him away? No way. I crossed my arms, trying to figure out something smart to say, but couldn't think of something to say there and then. And, what could I say to stop her? She was right. I was only seventeen, she twenty-five.
"You.. can't," I said after a long break with loads of thinking.
"Watch me," she said, taking Billie on her arm, walking out of the room and out. I ran after her.
"When?" I yelled after her.
"We're booked on a flight, leaving in two days. Yes, you'll get to say your goodbyes."
She started walking again, not looking back. I couldn't believe this. This wasn't happening... Right? This couldn't be happening.
*
February 17. 1990
What a mess. It was my eighteenth birthday, but I had no joy. My one and only son would be two years by now. Wonder where he was now, what he was doing.. I never thought it'd be this hard letting him go, a year ago four days ago. God I missed him.
"Hey," Mike said. "You look down buddy. What's wrong?"
"What do you think?" I said trying to sound big and scary for him to leave me alone, but failed. Mike sat down beside me.
"You're not thinking of Billie again, are ya?" I didn't bother to answer, he already knew it.
"Let me tell ya something Bill," he said after a long break.
"What?"
"Listen Bill. She chose this whatshisname in Scotland in front of you, and decided it was the best way for her son, not to mention her daughter. You guys weren't even hitched, she couldn't rely on you. Think of it as a good opportunity. Being a teenage dad can't be much fun. Live life of die."
"Is there a point to all of this Michael?" I said. He hated it when I called him 'Michael,' but he didn't seem to notice this time. I looked at him. His blue eyes stared cold and hard on me, but still warm and caring.
"What I'm saying is, forget him. He was an accident," he replied.
How could he say that? I wanted to scratch his eyes out, and kill him right there and then, but I'd regret it. And he was right, but wrong. My son was no accident. But instead of having a blast, I nodded. It was my birthday after all. Mine and my son's.
*
Back to 2003
Adie smiled finding her husband half asleep in the veranda chair.
"Billie!" she said.
"W...What?" I replied, still half asleep.
"You've been sitting here for two hours," she spoke again. "What were you thinking of?"
"Nothing," I said and looked at her. God she was so beautiful. I wanted to tell her about me third son, but stopped myself. Billie was the past. Adie, Joey and Jake were the future. Though I could never stop missing, and caring for him.
*
Scotland, February 17. 2003
Great. My fifteenth birthday, and I was working. I'd just gotten myself a job at 7/11, not much work anyhow. Mum and Glen had been strangely nice to me, as they were every birthday of mine. I can't say the same for Glen really, he was just acting.
"...Named Cigarettes & Valentines..." I heard some girl say to another, as they entered the kiosk. Not noticing them too much, I laid my head on the counter, waiting for her to pay. She went to pick on the magazines, being the skinny girl she was. I hated girls like her. Such a bimbo hippo freak. I hated looking at her. Blonde, dyed hair. Yuk! Couldn't she just pay for her stuff and get out of here? She finally decided what to buy, and what not to, and came, in full talking, over to me.
"How much is it for t..." she looked at me, dropped her handbag and magazine, which she was buying, and screamed.
"Oh my God!"
"Oh my God!" her friend screamed, the same as her.
"Billie Joe! Oh my God, what are you doing here?! And that...That wig! Oh my God!"
Wig? What the fuck? She was the one wearing false hair, or so it looked like! I wanted to scratch her eyes out, calling my long hair a wig. I knew I couldn't threat customers like that, so I put a smile on me face, pretending to be mother-in-law's favorite son.
"Do I know you?" I said in the nicest, most false way I could.
"Yes! I mean no! But you're Billie Joe Armstrong!" she screamed, still shocked. She must've hit her head pretty bad.
"So?"
"Can you please, pleeeease sign this?" she said, handing me her handbag.
Sign this.. What the fuck?! I thought, but realised I had to do what she told me. Her friend handed me a pen. I just looked at it in disgust.
"What are you waiting for?" the blonde one said. I took the pen, and signed her bag.
Joey I wrote in big letters.
"Joey?" the blonde one spoke again.
"Jesus Christ, will you pay and leave?!" I asked. She smiled the ugliest smile I'd ever seen (sure meant to look sweet), and said "everything for you Billie Joe." She handed me money, took the bag and magazine, and left. She and her friend giggled, and blew me kisses. Jesus, what was this? Some kind of freaky set up? The questions were many, and I complained not having any answers. In the end I decided to leave it dead and buried, and started concentrating on something else.
*
"Joey, get in here!" Mum yelled as I opened the door at home some hours later, when I was finished working.
"Happy birthday honey," she said and kissed my cheek. I ignored it.
"Where's the rest of the fuckers?"
"Joey!"
"Sorry. Correction, I meant to say 'family'," I said sarcastic. Surprisingly she giggled.
"Joey, you're so alike your dad when he was at your age." She stopped giggling, covering her mouth with her hands.
"I mean..." she said, me interrupting her.
"What did you say?"
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to the fancy, hottie, enjoyed, motherly..."
"Leave it Tré," I said cutting him of.
"Come on honey, puff the lights," Adie said, nodding towards my birthday cake with thirty-one candles on it.
"If you don't puff all of them at once, you have a girlfriend," Joseph said grinning. Tré laughed. I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, and I'm not married to your mother by the way," I sarcasticly said, smiling back at him.
*
After hours with birthday presents, cake and different food and drink, I finally got some time for myself.
"Come on Joey, bed's waiting," I heard Adie yell from inside. I leaned back in the veranda chair, closing my eyes. It'd been fourteen years since I'd seen my oldest son, one year old. The memories made a shiver run down my spine.
*
February 17. 1988
"It's a boy," the nurse said, handing him to me. Regina ( Joey's Mum ) was breathing heavily after the birth. She slowly sat up, and looked at me with sad eyes.
"I'm sorry putting you through all of this," she whispered.
I didn't reply. I looked at the little boy I held in my arms. He didn't seem to notice he was born yet, he wasn't screaming or anything, making me think he was dead. Almost. He was so beautiful. My first boy, and I was only sixteen.
"No, I'm the one who should be apologising," I finally spoke, not taking my eyes of my newborn son.
"Why?" she replied, still not taking her eyes of me. Like she hadn't noticed she'd just had her first son. For the second time, I didn't reply.
"I will get to see him, right?" I asked instead. She smiled.
"Of course. You're the father."
I looked at him again. Billie Joe Armstrong the second was born.
*
February 11. 1989
"There you go Billie," I said, handing him my stepfather's car keys.
"Just don't tell Brad, or he'll be very, very mad at Daddy."
He giggled, and started to play with the keys. Mike laughed.
"Just like you Billie," he said shaking his head in laughter. "Just like you."
I looked deeply into my green eyed boy's eyes, born on the same day as me.
"You know what kiddo? Soon daddy'll be seventeen, and you'll be one. You know what that means? Loads of c..."
"There you are!" Regina yelled, picking her son up. Mine as well, to correct myself.
"Where'd you come from?" I said, dumbfounded and confused.
"I need to speak to you," she replied. "I need to speak to you alone."
Mike nodded towards her and left.
"Jesus," she said, grabbing Brad's keys from Billie's grasp. He started screaming and crying, so she had to give them back to him.
"Who's keys are these?!"
"Brad's.." I replied, without finishing. She didn't let me. Something was in the air, I could feel it.
"He could swallow these, Billie!" she yelled at me.
"Wow, wow, wow.. Slow down babe.. He can't swallow those."
"Yes he can, and I'm not your 'babe,' all we had was a fling," she replied. I nodded.
"So, watcha' wanna talk about?" I said, having a feeling I wasn't going to like what I was about to hear.
"You're not responsible enough to take care of a one year old, Billie Joe," she said.
I opened my mouth to protest, but she continued.
"You're only seventeen yourself. I've met this guy from Scotland, older guy, who'll know how to handle a little child, something you won't be able to. What I'm really trying to say is.. He's, well.. Billie's coming with me."
My mouth must've dropped wide opened. He was the only one I loved in this world, and she were taking him away? No way. I crossed my arms, trying to figure out something smart to say, but couldn't think of something to say there and then. And, what could I say to stop her? She was right. I was only seventeen, she twenty-five.
"You.. can't," I said after a long break with loads of thinking.
"Watch me," she said, taking Billie on her arm, walking out of the room and out. I ran after her.
"When?" I yelled after her.
"We're booked on a flight, leaving in two days. Yes, you'll get to say your goodbyes."
She started walking again, not looking back. I couldn't believe this. This wasn't happening... Right? This couldn't be happening.
*
February 17. 1990
What a mess. It was my eighteenth birthday, but I had no joy. My one and only son would be two years by now. Wonder where he was now, what he was doing.. I never thought it'd be this hard letting him go, a year ago four days ago. God I missed him.
"Hey," Mike said. "You look down buddy. What's wrong?"
"What do you think?" I said trying to sound big and scary for him to leave me alone, but failed. Mike sat down beside me.
"You're not thinking of Billie again, are ya?" I didn't bother to answer, he already knew it.
"Let me tell ya something Bill," he said after a long break.
"What?"
"Listen Bill. She chose this whatshisname in Scotland in front of you, and decided it was the best way for her son, not to mention her daughter. You guys weren't even hitched, she couldn't rely on you. Think of it as a good opportunity. Being a teenage dad can't be much fun. Live life of die."
"Is there a point to all of this Michael?" I said. He hated it when I called him 'Michael,' but he didn't seem to notice this time. I looked at him. His blue eyes stared cold and hard on me, but still warm and caring.
"What I'm saying is, forget him. He was an accident," he replied.
How could he say that? I wanted to scratch his eyes out, and kill him right there and then, but I'd regret it. And he was right, but wrong. My son was no accident. But instead of having a blast, I nodded. It was my birthday after all. Mine and my son's.
*
Back to 2003
Adie smiled finding her husband half asleep in the veranda chair.
"Billie!" she said.
"W...What?" I replied, still half asleep.
"You've been sitting here for two hours," she spoke again. "What were you thinking of?"
"Nothing," I said and looked at her. God she was so beautiful. I wanted to tell her about me third son, but stopped myself. Billie was the past. Adie, Joey and Jake were the future. Though I could never stop missing, and caring for him.
*
Scotland, February 17. 2003
Great. My fifteenth birthday, and I was working. I'd just gotten myself a job at 7/11, not much work anyhow. Mum and Glen had been strangely nice to me, as they were every birthday of mine. I can't say the same for Glen really, he was just acting.
"...Named Cigarettes & Valentines..." I heard some girl say to another, as they entered the kiosk. Not noticing them too much, I laid my head on the counter, waiting for her to pay. She went to pick on the magazines, being the skinny girl she was. I hated girls like her. Such a bimbo hippo freak. I hated looking at her. Blonde, dyed hair. Yuk! Couldn't she just pay for her stuff and get out of here? She finally decided what to buy, and what not to, and came, in full talking, over to me.
"How much is it for t..." she looked at me, dropped her handbag and magazine, which she was buying, and screamed.
"Oh my God!"
"Oh my God!" her friend screamed, the same as her.
"Billie Joe! Oh my God, what are you doing here?! And that...That wig! Oh my God!"
Wig? What the fuck? She was the one wearing false hair, or so it looked like! I wanted to scratch her eyes out, calling my long hair a wig. I knew I couldn't threat customers like that, so I put a smile on me face, pretending to be mother-in-law's favorite son.
"Do I know you?" I said in the nicest, most false way I could.
"Yes! I mean no! But you're Billie Joe Armstrong!" she screamed, still shocked. She must've hit her head pretty bad.
"So?"
"Can you please, pleeeease sign this?" she said, handing me her handbag.
Sign this.. What the fuck?! I thought, but realised I had to do what she told me. Her friend handed me a pen. I just looked at it in disgust.
"What are you waiting for?" the blonde one said. I took the pen, and signed her bag.
Joey I wrote in big letters.
"Joey?" the blonde one spoke again.
"Jesus Christ, will you pay and leave?!" I asked. She smiled the ugliest smile I'd ever seen (sure meant to look sweet), and said "everything for you Billie Joe." She handed me money, took the bag and magazine, and left. She and her friend giggled, and blew me kisses. Jesus, what was this? Some kind of freaky set up? The questions were many, and I complained not having any answers. In the end I decided to leave it dead and buried, and started concentrating on something else.
*
"Joey, get in here!" Mum yelled as I opened the door at home some hours later, when I was finished working.
"Happy birthday honey," she said and kissed my cheek. I ignored it.
"Where's the rest of the fuckers?"
"Joey!"
"Sorry. Correction, I meant to say 'family'," I said sarcastic. Surprisingly she giggled.
"Joey, you're so alike your dad when he was at your age." She stopped giggling, covering her mouth with her hands.
"I mean..." she said, me interrupting her.
"What did you say?"