What If We Didn't Know
Prologue
Michael Bryar hopped on a Greyhound bus and left his home in Chicago at the ripe age of five years old. His parents didn't have the sense to keep an eye on the restless and wild boy, it seemed. He himself was not certain where he was going; he only knew that he had to get there as soon as possible. "There" turned out to be a town in New Jersey known as Belleville.
When he climbed off the bus, he wasn't sure where to go next. He wandered for a bit, until he found himself on a long street in the middle of a neighbourhood. There were a few boys playing in the street, and he shyly walked over too them. They were too absorbed in their game of kickball, however, to pay him much attention. As the sky slowly turned from cloudless blue to sunset flame, the boys began to wander home, and a small boy with black curls and a warm smile noticed him at last.
"Hi, I'm Fwankie!" The boy introduced himself merrily. "Who ah you?"
"I'm Mikey," The other boy answered, smiling at the energetic kid.
"Wheh ah you fwom, Mikey?" Frankie asked, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking forward on his tiptoes eagerly.
"I'm from Chicago," Mikey replied. "I rode the bus here."
"Wheh ah youh pawents?" Frankie further questioned, now dancing slightly on the spot.
Mikey, who didn't much like his parents (or his brother Bobby, for that matter), lied, "They died in a fire." He didn't want to be sent back to them.
"Oh no!" Frankie gasped, eyes tearing up slightly at the idea of death. But then he grabbed one of Mikey's hands in his own and began to drag him off toward a small white house with burgundy shutters. "How old ah you?" He inquired, smiling once more. As an afterthought he added, "I'm fouh."
Mikey giggled. "I'm five," he responded.
At that point the young duo had made it to Frankie's house, and they burst through the door enthusiastically. "Mama, Mama!" Frankie called, darting into the kitchen, dragging Mikey behind him.
"Hey there, Frankie, how was your day with the boys?" A woman with dark hair standing at the kitchen sink asked, smiling widely. Then her eyes fell on Mikey. "Oh, who is this?"
"This is Mikey!" Frankie announced proudly. "He followed me home; can we keep him?"
His mother laughed. "Darling, I think young Mikey has a home of his own to get back to."
"No," Frankie disagreed. "He said his mama and daddy died in a fiah. We have to keep him hew and pwotect him fwom the fiah that's gonna come back foh him!"
Frankie's mother now had a concerned look on her face, and she turned to Mikey. "Dear, did you parents really die in a fire?"
Mikey felt bad for lying to such a sweet lady, but he nodded. "Yes. When the police told me they died I started walking and found Frankie."
Frankie's mom shook her head sadly. "Alright, why don't you stay the night and we'll worry about that tomorrow."
"Yay, thank you Mama!" Frankie hollered, throwing his arms around his mother's knees and squeezing. Then he looked at Mikey with a wide grin. "If you get to stay then we'w gonna be like bwothas! I've always wanted a bwotha."
Mikey smiled. "I had a brother. He was mean. I like you better anyway."
After supper, Frankie's mom sent the two boys off to Frankie's room for bed, but they stayed up half the night talking and giggling and playing around. Mikey hadn't had so much fun since before he could remember. The next day, Linda (as Frankie's mom had told Mikey to call her) did some research in local missing persons reports, but there was no claim for Mikey. Unsure of what else to do, the woman decided to take him in.
Frankie and Mikey soon became inseparable. Well, them and Frankie's best friend from down the street; Gerard. The three of them wouldn't leave each other's sides hardly at all, and as they grew up, they only became closer.
When he climbed off the bus, he wasn't sure where to go next. He wandered for a bit, until he found himself on a long street in the middle of a neighbourhood. There were a few boys playing in the street, and he shyly walked over too them. They were too absorbed in their game of kickball, however, to pay him much attention. As the sky slowly turned from cloudless blue to sunset flame, the boys began to wander home, and a small boy with black curls and a warm smile noticed him at last.
"Hi, I'm Fwankie!" The boy introduced himself merrily. "Who ah you?"
"I'm Mikey," The other boy answered, smiling at the energetic kid.
"Wheh ah you fwom, Mikey?" Frankie asked, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking forward on his tiptoes eagerly.
"I'm from Chicago," Mikey replied. "I rode the bus here."
"Wheh ah youh pawents?" Frankie further questioned, now dancing slightly on the spot.
Mikey, who didn't much like his parents (or his brother Bobby, for that matter), lied, "They died in a fire." He didn't want to be sent back to them.
"Oh no!" Frankie gasped, eyes tearing up slightly at the idea of death. But then he grabbed one of Mikey's hands in his own and began to drag him off toward a small white house with burgundy shutters. "How old ah you?" He inquired, smiling once more. As an afterthought he added, "I'm fouh."
Mikey giggled. "I'm five," he responded.
At that point the young duo had made it to Frankie's house, and they burst through the door enthusiastically. "Mama, Mama!" Frankie called, darting into the kitchen, dragging Mikey behind him.
"Hey there, Frankie, how was your day with the boys?" A woman with dark hair standing at the kitchen sink asked, smiling widely. Then her eyes fell on Mikey. "Oh, who is this?"
"This is Mikey!" Frankie announced proudly. "He followed me home; can we keep him?"
His mother laughed. "Darling, I think young Mikey has a home of his own to get back to."
"No," Frankie disagreed. "He said his mama and daddy died in a fiah. We have to keep him hew and pwotect him fwom the fiah that's gonna come back foh him!"
Frankie's mother now had a concerned look on her face, and she turned to Mikey. "Dear, did you parents really die in a fire?"
Mikey felt bad for lying to such a sweet lady, but he nodded. "Yes. When the police told me they died I started walking and found Frankie."
Frankie's mom shook her head sadly. "Alright, why don't you stay the night and we'll worry about that tomorrow."
"Yay, thank you Mama!" Frankie hollered, throwing his arms around his mother's knees and squeezing. Then he looked at Mikey with a wide grin. "If you get to stay then we'w gonna be like bwothas! I've always wanted a bwotha."
Mikey smiled. "I had a brother. He was mean. I like you better anyway."
After supper, Frankie's mom sent the two boys off to Frankie's room for bed, but they stayed up half the night talking and giggling and playing around. Mikey hadn't had so much fun since before he could remember. The next day, Linda (as Frankie's mom had told Mikey to call her) did some research in local missing persons reports, but there was no claim for Mikey. Unsure of what else to do, the woman decided to take him in.
Frankie and Mikey soon became inseparable. Well, them and Frankie's best friend from down the street; Gerard. The three of them wouldn't leave each other's sides hardly at all, and as they grew up, they only became closer.