Play The Field.

November passed in the blink of an eye, melting into December before I knew it. The time I spent with Frank had been harshly reduced; him and his father were staying with his grandparents until the divorce was ironed out and as a result, I only saw him at school. He wasn't even allowed to come over for sleepovers; anytime he was in the neighborhood, he was visiting his mother.

On the second of December, things finally started to look up... or so I thought. It was a Saturday and when I awoke, there was another small body in the bed next to me, shaking silently. I was only half awake still, so it took a moment for the realization that Frank was at my house to hit me. He was facing towards the bedroom door but I could still hear the sniffs that were wracking his tiny body.

"Frankie, what's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and throwing the blankets off of us both. "Why are you crying?' For a moment, it seemed like the entire house had gone silent besides the mouse-like whimpers escaping from his mouth; I couldn't even hear the faint hum of the fridge out in the kitchen.

"I have to stay with Mommy," he finally whimpered, tears still pouring down his face with no end in sight. Although my mind hadn't wrapped around why he was so upset, I laid back down and hugged him the best I could with one arm, my nose almost brushing against the back of his neck. I hated seeing my Frankie like this; I wanted back the little boy that was so hyper around me but perpetually shy around everyone else.

The first part of our relationship was slowly drawing to an end, starting with that moment when I listened to him cry, trying to find the right word in my limited vocabulary to help him. After this, everything was going to be different, but I didn't know how much different; what was going to happen if Frank Sr. wasn't around to calm Linda down?

"What's going to happen to your daddy?" I asked quietly, wincing as Frank started to cough, shaking my frame with the force of them. I started to get worried but eventually he stopped, going back to sniffling.

"He's gonna live with my grandma until he... finds a home," he murmured, stuttering and stumbling over each word as it came out. "Mommy said I'll be able to see him on the weekends but I don't want to! I want to see him every day!"

"I know Frank, I know." I didn't know what to say; this was the first experience I'd ever had with the foreign concept of divorce. My parents had never come close to separating at that point so I didn't understand it; in my little naive mind, so heavily influenced by Saturday cartoons and soccer, marriage was something that was meant to last.

When my mother came in almost two hours later and said that his mother was calling him back over, Frank still hadn't stopped crying.

***

The next day, Gerard and I were out on the front porch, looking like two little Eskimos underneath all our heavy winter gear. We were expecting Joey over for the day and Gerard refused to do anything until he got there so we simply sat on the step, me sweating from the unnecessary multiple layers Mom had forced upon me. Across the street, Frank's house was cold and silent, as if no one was in it at all.

It rather scared me how, if you didn't know it, you wouldn't think his house even had a six year old boy living in it. There were no toys out on the front lawn, no snowmen or little footprints... nothing at all. Even after Joey had arrived and we had begun the first layer of the igloo we planned on making, there was still no sign of life in the house across the street.

Finally, while we were taking a break and sipping on some hot chocolate Mom had made us, a car that didn't look familiar pulled into the Iero's driveway. Although Frank's father stepped out, he wasn't the one driving; that person happened to be a short, broad shouldered women with shockingly white hair, so bright it blended in with the snow. She may have been clear on the other side of the road but you could already tell the authority and... strength that flowed off her.

"Oh wow, now she's butch," Joey said, causing both him and Gerard to fall into the snow with the force of their laughter. I merely looked at them before returning my gaze back across the street, just as the front door flew open to see Linda storming out, her hair a frizzy mess sticking up around her head.

"What do you think you're doing here Ruth?" she screamed, flinging her arm back towards the still open front door. "You have no reason to be in my life and neither do you!" This time she pointed at Frank, who was lingering in the background near the car. Gerard and Joey had ceased laughing, their attention as piqued by the argument as mine was.

"I'm here to see my grandson." Her voice was surprisingly soft, especially considering her appearance, but it rang loud and clear. Although she was shorter than Linda, you could tell that Frank's mother was intimidated by her; as she spoke, Linda discreetly stepped backwards towards the house. "You were supposed to bring him for his visit last night and you didn't show up."

"I was..." Linda murmured the last word but guessing from the movement of her lips, I assumed she had said she was busy.

"Busy my ass!" Ruth, who I now assumed was Frank Sr's. mother, reached out and swiftly grabbed Linda's wrist, pushing the sleeve of her thin black cardigan up. I could only briefly see what looked like a dark red discoloration on her arm before her hand flew up and struck Ruth on the cheek, creating a smack that reverberated throughout the street. To my surprise, Gerard and Joey were both silent, staring in shock as Ruth simply stood there, glaring at her former daughter-in-law with what could only be described as pure and utter hatred.

"I don't expect you to pull this kind of stunt next weekend," she finally said, ignoring the red blotch on her cheek from the impact of Linda's palm. "Otherwise I can guarantee your life will be a living hell." With that she turned and strode back to the car, nodding at her son who got in as well. He hadn't said anything the entire argument and he looked rather embarrassed, as if he hadn't wanted to go through with it.

For long after the car had pulled out, Linda simply stood there in her driveway, palms pressed over her ears while she looked down at the ground. She looked like she was talking rapidly under her breath, but I wasn't entirely sure.

"Mommy?" At the sound of this barely noticeable voice, both me and Linda looked toward the door, where Frank was standing, still in his pajamas and clutching a ragged teddy bear by one paw.

"Frank, get back inside!" He immediately retreated inside and she followed him, slamming the door behind her. Once the echo of it had died down, our neighborhood once again retreated into silence, broken only when Joey whistled quietly before beginning work on the second level of the igloo.

At that point in life, I wished I was older and stronger, like the heroes I saw on television. I wished I could help Frank from the life of misery he was already enduring; I didn't want to see him be hurt in so many ways.

But all I was good at was fucking soccer. I wasn't able to save Frank at that point... none of us could.

All we could do was watch.