Billie Joe's Third Son
Part seven
February 17. 1988
I couldn't concentrate. School was being a bitch, but I had nowhere else to go, and thinking of the situation I was in, I wanted to keep my mind off things. Teachers talking, walking in and out as if they owned the place, I still didn't listen. Today was my sixteenth birthday. Not just that, but there was something about today. I looked over to Mike, who paid his full attention to the teachers and their blackboard, writing down keywords, and God knows what else. Another teacher came in, and said something which I did not understand. He spoke too low. One thing I did realise was that he was speaking to me, because he had his eyes fixed on me.
Armstrong.
What?
Armstrong. Can you hear me?
"Billie!" Mike's voice shouted, far away, and his rubber hit my head. That totally woke me up from the state I was in.
"Ouch!" I said, rubbing my head. "What the hell did ya do that for?" He didn't reply, but pointed a finger in the direction of the guy, who'd been speaking to me.
"Armstrong. Regina's gone in to labor, but she's been sent to the hospital," he spoke.
Oh shit.
* * *
I sat in the hall of the hospital with Mike, waiting for Regina to 'finish.'
"Nervous?" Mike said. I didn't reply.
"Why do they always paint corridors in this color?" I asked instead. Mike laughed.
"You're nervous, alright."
"How do you know?" I said, while playing with my hair.
"Billie, I know you. When you're nervous, you either answer a question with a question, or play with your hair. You're now doing both."
"Shut up and answer the question," I said, a little annoyed. Mike tugged his shoulders.
"They say it's comforting."
"Who are they?"
"You, me, and everyone else in the world." I rolled my eyes. "Don't give me that. You're strangely calm, thinking of the circumstances." I nodded. "Billie?" he said, after a long pause.
"Yes?" I replied, not looking at him. I looked at the walls, in case it was true. I wasn't as calm as I seemed, if I could commit suicide, I would've done it there and then.
"Can... Can I... No, never mind." I rolled my eyes, once again. For a smart guy, Mike could be pretty dumb sometimes.
"C'mon, say it. Can't be that bad, thinking of the circumstances," I said, quoting him.
"Well, since I'm your best friend and everything, can I be like the baby's... Y'know, uncle or something?" I finally looked at him. His ice blue eyes stared back at me. His long, blonde hair was hiding his shoulders, as it always did. I smiled.
"Of course." He smiled back.
"Mr. Armstrong." I looked up, seeing Regina's midwife coming over to where we were sitting.
"You can see your baby now. It's a boy." I looked at Mike, then back at her. I was trying to say something, but couldn't.
"It's okay, Bill," Mike said. I looked back to him. He smiled again.
"Congratulations. And... Happy birthday."
* * *
My cell rang. I looked at the caller ID. Glen, I thought.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hey babe," Glen's voice said, nice and calm as always. I smiled.
"What's up now? Can't keep away from me?" I said, and giggled.
"Too right Reg," Glen said and laughed. "Actually, I have a suggestion. Our relationship's not going to work when I live in Scotland, and you in California."
A bit before Billie was born, I'd met this wonderful guy named Glen. He was visiting his sister, which lived here. We worked good together, as he'd been here some months before he had to go back to Scotland. As for my growing stomach, he luckily didn't ask who the baby's father was, he'd probably see me as a dirty slut, jumping in bed with a fifteen year old (we actually didn't 'do it' in bed either), and I didn't want to lie to him, though I wasn't planning on telling him either.
"It's just going to be out the year, then I can budge in with you, no problem," I replied.
"What about the kid?" he asked. Ouch. I didn't think of that.
"Well... I..." I didn't know what to say, or decide. There was one problem. Billie Joe. He loved spending time with Billie every time I brought him over to visit.
"You can bring him too," Glen suggested.
"Well, there's one problem. His dad," I replied.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you. Who is his father really?"
"Uh.,. Not much to talk about really," I replied.
"I can't see the problem then. Look, he won't remember much of his dad anyway, he's few months old. Have to go. Bye babe, love ya," he said, then hung up. He really meant it. He really meant I was going to take my kid away from his father. How was I going to tell Billie? And how was my child going to grow up, without his biological father? On the other hand, Billie was only sixteen, and Glen was older than me, he would take better care of him than Billie would. Thinking again, I couldn't lie to my son about his real father, but I couldn't tell him who he was either. I was booked on a flight, months ahead, in February '89, when I was done working in California. I could bring him then, and.. I had an idea. I couldn't tell Billie yet, it'd break his heart. But my son would grow older, and wonder who his dad was, I knew that for sure. Being the caring mother I was, I wanted my kid to remember his father. I'd left one track. His name. But I could make him remember him himself too, if just...
"I got it," I said to myself. Billie could have him in weekdays, so I could finish my work properly, he'd quit school soon anyway. Then I could have him in weekends when Billie and his band performed at Gilman something. There would be bigger chance for my son to remember him then. I could not tell Billie about me bringing his son to Scotland though. Not yet. I prayed he wouldn't mind.
* * *
I woke up, as someone cried in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes, finding Billie screaming like a little kid beside me. Thinking again, he was a little kid. Someone banged the wall. I didn't know if it was Brad or mum, they slept in the same room after all. I looked down to Billie again. What was I suppose to do? Aha. Milk. Stupid. I took Billie in my arms, and brought him downstairs to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, then warmed the milk a little, before feeding him. I glanced at the clock. 5:34AM. Damn kid. I looked down to him again. He finally stopped "eating." He let out a little burp, then looked up at me, with his small, green eyes. At that moment, he ripped out my heart.
"Thief," I whispered and kissed his cheek.
"Ntaw, that must be the cutest thing I've ever seen," I heard a familiar voice speak. Mike was standing in the doorway, in his Ramones shirt and boxers. I rolled my eyes.
"What are you doing up this early?" I asked.
"Couldn't sleep, I bet the kid could be heard miles away," he said and yawned.
"Nah, he doesn't scream louder than you when you shave your balls," I said under my breath, so he couldn't hear, but he did anyway, 'cause his mouth dropped wide open.
"What did you say?"
"I just said you would've heard it better if we had some uh.. Long halls," I replied. Mike rolled his eyes.
"Corridor Billie. Corridor."
"Right. Well, I'm gonna put Billie back to sleep. Night."
"Morning," Mike replied, as he opened the fridge to find something to drink, before going back to bed.
* * *
June 6th, 2003
"Joey, get down here!" mum screamed.
"Be there in a sec!" I yelled back. I searched through my closet the 12453rd time, to find the rest of the ecstasies, which I'd hidden there after my last misuse. I finally found them. They could not be in my room right now, since mum was having her summer washing-up any day soon. She'd go crazy, with mops, rags, buckets, you name it, all over the house. Happened every year.
Sure she knew about me taking drugs, but she'd still be angry to find them in my room, since I told her I'd get rid of it all. I emptied the bag. There was not much left, and I couldn't go to Don's place to get more after the blast we had last time I was with him. Not that it mattered, I didn't really need ecstasies anymore, now that Glen was scared stiff every time I passed by. Some months had passed, and nothing had happened. Glen hadn't abused me, mum hadn't yelled at me, and school'd been a bitch. First week was because of Don, which I actually missed, the rest because of mum. She'd spoken to my teachers, which proved I'd not been on school recently. Damn that woman. She sometimes spoke too much for her own good.
"Joey!" mum interrupted me from thinking, which she usually did.
"Coming!" I replied, and picked up the pills which were now scattered all over the bedroom floor. Since there wasn't much left of them, I found a map to put them in. As I did that, I started thinking, again. This time on where to put them.
"I could put them on the attic. No, she'll tidy up there one too," I spoke with myself. "I could flush them down the loo, and forget about them. No, what if I need them later?" This was harder than I thought. I thought harder, when I suddenly came up with a brilliant idea.
"Joey!" mum yelled again. Instead of replying, I walked over to mum's and Glen's bedroom, then to Glen's closet. Glen never did any tidying, or cleaning up, so I knew mum would have a go in there too. If she found the ecstasies in his closet, she might think he made me take ecstasies, then she might cancel the wedding (they were getting married this summer. Blah). I hid them as well as I could, so it would not seem odd, she'd find them anyway. I decided to go downstairs before mom called me again, leaving Glen's closet as he always did; half open.
"There you are sweetheart!" mom said as I entered the kitchen. "What took you such long time?"
"Uh, I had to pee." Antonia giggled.
"Shut up Toni," Mike said.
"Michael!" mum said, then looked at me. "This is your influence, isn't it Joey?" I tugged my shoulders, and sat down. This was the one time every year we'd eat dinner together, all five of us; Michael and Antonia's birthday. They got to choose dinner, and it was the same every year. Hamburgers.
"You guys'll end up fat, old and lonely," I mumbled under my breath.
"Mum, did you hear what Joey said?" Antonia said.
She was just like mother. They acted the same, they looked the same. Michael was the opposite. He was a mini version of Glen, though he didn't rape everyone he 'found.' Luckily. He always told me to shut up, or something, pretending he was a lot older than me. I usually rolled my eyes, and told him to shut up himself, before I'd do it for him. It could be 'cause he was so alike his dad, but it could also be his age. Twelve. I hated twelve years olds. They were so stubborn, and always thought they were better than you, no matter what you'd do.
"Joey, try being nice for once?" mom said, and gave me that "please-do-what-I-say-for-once" look.
"I was. I was joking," I replied. Michael rolled his eyes. I wanted to roll my eyes back at him, but I knew mum would kill me there and then, so I let out a small laugh instead, though I wasn't joking. They would end up old, fat and lonely. They ate too much fast food. I really believed that. They would have fat kids too. They'd feed them a lot of big hamburgers and pizza. Then, when I was eighty and retired, their kids would come to me, begging me for my money so they could afford operating on the hospital, to get skinnier. I'd say no, but they'd beg me once more, say it didn't matter 'cause I'd die soon anyway. Man, my imagination was wild. Thinking all of this, made me eat faster than I usually did, 'cause I was suddenly done eating.
"Thanks, I'm done," I said.
"Clean that up," mom said, and pointed a finger to my plate. I knew I had to do what she said, or she'd go mad. If I, or any of us (me, Glen, the twins ) didn't tidy up our mess during her washing - up week, she'd throw us out along with the trash. So, I grabbed my plate and left it on the counter.
"Where are you going?" Antonia said, as I tied on my shoes.
"I have to work today, does anyone mind?" I sarcastically said.
"You haven't even congratulated us!" Michael spoke.
"Right. Happy birthday kids. One more year to go, and you're teenagers," I smiled.
"Oh no," mum mumbled. Michael looked at her. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he was thinking.
"Well, I have to go now," I said. Mom nodded, and Glen mumbled a little 'bye,' not looking at me. I smiled, then left them to eat, and God knows what else.
I couldn't concentrate. School was being a bitch, but I had nowhere else to go, and thinking of the situation I was in, I wanted to keep my mind off things. Teachers talking, walking in and out as if they owned the place, I still didn't listen. Today was my sixteenth birthday. Not just that, but there was something about today. I looked over to Mike, who paid his full attention to the teachers and their blackboard, writing down keywords, and God knows what else. Another teacher came in, and said something which I did not understand. He spoke too low. One thing I did realise was that he was speaking to me, because he had his eyes fixed on me.
Armstrong.
What?
Armstrong. Can you hear me?
"Billie!" Mike's voice shouted, far away, and his rubber hit my head. That totally woke me up from the state I was in.
"Ouch!" I said, rubbing my head. "What the hell did ya do that for?" He didn't reply, but pointed a finger in the direction of the guy, who'd been speaking to me.
"Armstrong. Regina's gone in to labor, but she's been sent to the hospital," he spoke.
Oh shit.
* * *
I sat in the hall of the hospital with Mike, waiting for Regina to 'finish.'
"Nervous?" Mike said. I didn't reply.
"Why do they always paint corridors in this color?" I asked instead. Mike laughed.
"You're nervous, alright."
"How do you know?" I said, while playing with my hair.
"Billie, I know you. When you're nervous, you either answer a question with a question, or play with your hair. You're now doing both."
"Shut up and answer the question," I said, a little annoyed. Mike tugged his shoulders.
"They say it's comforting."
"Who are they?"
"You, me, and everyone else in the world." I rolled my eyes. "Don't give me that. You're strangely calm, thinking of the circumstances." I nodded. "Billie?" he said, after a long pause.
"Yes?" I replied, not looking at him. I looked at the walls, in case it was true. I wasn't as calm as I seemed, if I could commit suicide, I would've done it there and then.
"Can... Can I... No, never mind." I rolled my eyes, once again. For a smart guy, Mike could be pretty dumb sometimes.
"C'mon, say it. Can't be that bad, thinking of the circumstances," I said, quoting him.
"Well, since I'm your best friend and everything, can I be like the baby's... Y'know, uncle or something?" I finally looked at him. His ice blue eyes stared back at me. His long, blonde hair was hiding his shoulders, as it always did. I smiled.
"Of course." He smiled back.
"Mr. Armstrong." I looked up, seeing Regina's midwife coming over to where we were sitting.
"You can see your baby now. It's a boy." I looked at Mike, then back at her. I was trying to say something, but couldn't.
"It's okay, Bill," Mike said. I looked back to him. He smiled again.
"Congratulations. And... Happy birthday."
* * *
My cell rang. I looked at the caller ID. Glen, I thought.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hey babe," Glen's voice said, nice and calm as always. I smiled.
"What's up now? Can't keep away from me?" I said, and giggled.
"Too right Reg," Glen said and laughed. "Actually, I have a suggestion. Our relationship's not going to work when I live in Scotland, and you in California."
A bit before Billie was born, I'd met this wonderful guy named Glen. He was visiting his sister, which lived here. We worked good together, as he'd been here some months before he had to go back to Scotland. As for my growing stomach, he luckily didn't ask who the baby's father was, he'd probably see me as a dirty slut, jumping in bed with a fifteen year old (we actually didn't 'do it' in bed either), and I didn't want to lie to him, though I wasn't planning on telling him either.
"It's just going to be out the year, then I can budge in with you, no problem," I replied.
"What about the kid?" he asked. Ouch. I didn't think of that.
"Well... I..." I didn't know what to say, or decide. There was one problem. Billie Joe. He loved spending time with Billie every time I brought him over to visit.
"You can bring him too," Glen suggested.
"Well, there's one problem. His dad," I replied.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you. Who is his father really?"
"Uh.,. Not much to talk about really," I replied.
"I can't see the problem then. Look, he won't remember much of his dad anyway, he's few months old. Have to go. Bye babe, love ya," he said, then hung up. He really meant it. He really meant I was going to take my kid away from his father. How was I going to tell Billie? And how was my child going to grow up, without his biological father? On the other hand, Billie was only sixteen, and Glen was older than me, he would take better care of him than Billie would. Thinking again, I couldn't lie to my son about his real father, but I couldn't tell him who he was either. I was booked on a flight, months ahead, in February '89, when I was done working in California. I could bring him then, and.. I had an idea. I couldn't tell Billie yet, it'd break his heart. But my son would grow older, and wonder who his dad was, I knew that for sure. Being the caring mother I was, I wanted my kid to remember his father. I'd left one track. His name. But I could make him remember him himself too, if just...
"I got it," I said to myself. Billie could have him in weekdays, so I could finish my work properly, he'd quit school soon anyway. Then I could have him in weekends when Billie and his band performed at Gilman something. There would be bigger chance for my son to remember him then. I could not tell Billie about me bringing his son to Scotland though. Not yet. I prayed he wouldn't mind.
* * *
I woke up, as someone cried in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes, finding Billie screaming like a little kid beside me. Thinking again, he was a little kid. Someone banged the wall. I didn't know if it was Brad or mum, they slept in the same room after all. I looked down to Billie again. What was I suppose to do? Aha. Milk. Stupid. I took Billie in my arms, and brought him downstairs to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, then warmed the milk a little, before feeding him. I glanced at the clock. 5:34AM. Damn kid. I looked down to him again. He finally stopped "eating." He let out a little burp, then looked up at me, with his small, green eyes. At that moment, he ripped out my heart.
"Thief," I whispered and kissed his cheek.
"Ntaw, that must be the cutest thing I've ever seen," I heard a familiar voice speak. Mike was standing in the doorway, in his Ramones shirt and boxers. I rolled my eyes.
"What are you doing up this early?" I asked.
"Couldn't sleep, I bet the kid could be heard miles away," he said and yawned.
"Nah, he doesn't scream louder than you when you shave your balls," I said under my breath, so he couldn't hear, but he did anyway, 'cause his mouth dropped wide open.
"What did you say?"
"I just said you would've heard it better if we had some uh.. Long halls," I replied. Mike rolled his eyes.
"Corridor Billie. Corridor."
"Right. Well, I'm gonna put Billie back to sleep. Night."
"Morning," Mike replied, as he opened the fridge to find something to drink, before going back to bed.
* * *
June 6th, 2003
"Joey, get down here!" mum screamed.
"Be there in a sec!" I yelled back. I searched through my closet the 12453rd time, to find the rest of the ecstasies, which I'd hidden there after my last misuse. I finally found them. They could not be in my room right now, since mum was having her summer washing-up any day soon. She'd go crazy, with mops, rags, buckets, you name it, all over the house. Happened every year.
Sure she knew about me taking drugs, but she'd still be angry to find them in my room, since I told her I'd get rid of it all. I emptied the bag. There was not much left, and I couldn't go to Don's place to get more after the blast we had last time I was with him. Not that it mattered, I didn't really need ecstasies anymore, now that Glen was scared stiff every time I passed by. Some months had passed, and nothing had happened. Glen hadn't abused me, mum hadn't yelled at me, and school'd been a bitch. First week was because of Don, which I actually missed, the rest because of mum. She'd spoken to my teachers, which proved I'd not been on school recently. Damn that woman. She sometimes spoke too much for her own good.
"Joey!" mum interrupted me from thinking, which she usually did.
"Coming!" I replied, and picked up the pills which were now scattered all over the bedroom floor. Since there wasn't much left of them, I found a map to put them in. As I did that, I started thinking, again. This time on where to put them.
"I could put them on the attic. No, she'll tidy up there one too," I spoke with myself. "I could flush them down the loo, and forget about them. No, what if I need them later?" This was harder than I thought. I thought harder, when I suddenly came up with a brilliant idea.
"Joey!" mum yelled again. Instead of replying, I walked over to mum's and Glen's bedroom, then to Glen's closet. Glen never did any tidying, or cleaning up, so I knew mum would have a go in there too. If she found the ecstasies in his closet, she might think he made me take ecstasies, then she might cancel the wedding (they were getting married this summer. Blah). I hid them as well as I could, so it would not seem odd, she'd find them anyway. I decided to go downstairs before mom called me again, leaving Glen's closet as he always did; half open.
"There you are sweetheart!" mom said as I entered the kitchen. "What took you such long time?"
"Uh, I had to pee." Antonia giggled.
"Shut up Toni," Mike said.
"Michael!" mum said, then looked at me. "This is your influence, isn't it Joey?" I tugged my shoulders, and sat down. This was the one time every year we'd eat dinner together, all five of us; Michael and Antonia's birthday. They got to choose dinner, and it was the same every year. Hamburgers.
"You guys'll end up fat, old and lonely," I mumbled under my breath.
"Mum, did you hear what Joey said?" Antonia said.
She was just like mother. They acted the same, they looked the same. Michael was the opposite. He was a mini version of Glen, though he didn't rape everyone he 'found.' Luckily. He always told me to shut up, or something, pretending he was a lot older than me. I usually rolled my eyes, and told him to shut up himself, before I'd do it for him. It could be 'cause he was so alike his dad, but it could also be his age. Twelve. I hated twelve years olds. They were so stubborn, and always thought they were better than you, no matter what you'd do.
"Joey, try being nice for once?" mom said, and gave me that "please-do-what-I-say-for-once" look.
"I was. I was joking," I replied. Michael rolled his eyes. I wanted to roll my eyes back at him, but I knew mum would kill me there and then, so I let out a small laugh instead, though I wasn't joking. They would end up old, fat and lonely. They ate too much fast food. I really believed that. They would have fat kids too. They'd feed them a lot of big hamburgers and pizza. Then, when I was eighty and retired, their kids would come to me, begging me for my money so they could afford operating on the hospital, to get skinnier. I'd say no, but they'd beg me once more, say it didn't matter 'cause I'd die soon anyway. Man, my imagination was wild. Thinking all of this, made me eat faster than I usually did, 'cause I was suddenly done eating.
"Thanks, I'm done," I said.
"Clean that up," mom said, and pointed a finger to my plate. I knew I had to do what she said, or she'd go mad. If I, or any of us (me, Glen, the twins ) didn't tidy up our mess during her washing - up week, she'd throw us out along with the trash. So, I grabbed my plate and left it on the counter.
"Where are you going?" Antonia said, as I tied on my shoes.
"I have to work today, does anyone mind?" I sarcastically said.
"You haven't even congratulated us!" Michael spoke.
"Right. Happy birthday kids. One more year to go, and you're teenagers," I smiled.
"Oh no," mum mumbled. Michael looked at her. He didn't say anything, but I knew what he was thinking.
"Well, I have to go now," I said. Mom nodded, and Glen mumbled a little 'bye,' not looking at me. I smiled, then left them to eat, and God knows what else.