Twist of Fate : Chapter 4
Title: A Twist of Fate
Ratings/Warnings: In this chapter- Nothing major- Ryan angst & a couple of swear words.
Beta: As always a huge debt of gratitude to loracj2
Disclaimers: I own nothing in relation to The O.C. All mistakes are mine
Thank You: Previously I forgot to thank loracj2, beachtree, finlee, and fifimom for helping me out with questions regarding home security and gated communities. That information will finally show up next chapter. Also thank you to katwoman for letting me bounce ideas off of her.
Summary: Beginning of Season 1, AU, In The Pilot, Kirsten asks Sandy “What if this is all a scam? What if he’s just using you to case the house?” In this story it is the truth, but not by Ryan’s choice. For the purposes of this story Dawn is dead and there never was a Trey.
Twist of Fate: Chapter Four
Ryan awoke in stages.
His first sensation, as always after one of Art’s punishments, was one of aching soreness. The mornings were always the worst. It was as if the previous day’s suffering settled deep into every joint and muscle. Even the slightest movement would bring with it a new level of hurt. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, trying to brace himself for the wave of pain that he knew was to come.
It was that movement that caused him to notice the scent of his new surroundings. It was fresh, clean, and completely foreign to him. The house in Chino was old and damp. There was a certain mustiness that never left, no matter what time of year or the weather. It was combined with the lingering odor of stale cigarette smoke and beer. In Chino, the air always hung thick and heavy. At times Ryan thought he could feel it wrapping itself around him. It enveloped him...suffocated him...trapping him all the more.
Rolling on to his side, he stifled a groan. It was important not to make too much noise. Art did not appreciate being woken up by the sound of whining. Ryan attempted to find a comfortable position; one that would not put pressure on his back. He lay there for just a moment, letting the soft warmth of the bed soothe his battered body. It was at that moment he remembered that he was at the Cohens. The pillow should have given it away, thought Ryan. He didn’t even have one in Chino. Most nights, if it wasn’t too cold, and he didn’t need it for warmth, Ryan rolled up his sweatshirt into a makeshift pillow. On cooler evenings, he learned to do without, making do by resting his head in the crook of his arm. He had learned to do without a lot of things in his young life.
He didn’t have a bed for that matter either, just a thin mattress that did little to protect him from the cold hard floor. He was grateful to even have that much. He had come across it one early afternoon when he was thirteen. A recently evicted neighbor had left it behind on the curb in their haste to get the hell out of Chino. Ryan had been thrilled with the discovery, and had gone out and “found” some sheets in a nearby neighborhood that had been left out to dry. He had never taken anything just for himself before, feeling guilty the entire walk home. With each step he took, the sheets felt heavier and heavier. He had just reached the sidewalk in front of the house when he decided that he had to return them. Stealing because Art made him, and stealing because he could were two entirely different matters. With the sheets still tucked firmly under his arm, he turned to head back to the house where he had found them. Unfortunately, Art had been sitting on the front porch and was down the sidewalk in a flash. He grabbed Ryan’s arm and dragged him into the house. He had been furious with Ryan; not believing the boy would take a chance at getting caught stealing something so frivolous. He had ripped the sheets to shreds and thoroughly disciplined Ryan for being so self-indulgent. It was the first and the last time Ryan ever stole for selfish reasons.
As the morning’s rays flooded the pool house, Ryan squinted his eyes against the light. He was quite sure the sun never shone quite so brightly in Chino. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked around in awe at the Cohens’ wealth. The previous evening’s moonlight had not done justice to their home. He had only seen places like this on television and in magazines, and even then he had doubted people actually lived in them. Gingerly he rose from the bed, and walked to the glass doors directly in from of him, taking in the infinity pool and the mansion.
He couldn’t help but think of how horribly unfair it all was. The Cohens were living in the lap of luxury. While for him and his family, if you could call it that, every day was a struggle. Art had always told him that life wasn’t fair, but he had never realized the extent of that statement until that very moment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong to take from these people. After all, they had so much and he had so little. What would it matter to them if they lost a couple of televisions and some jewelry? They could buy whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.
Stealing was wrong. Ryan could never get past that, and he hated it. But the thought of not having to face Art’s disappointment outweighed most of his guilt. Maybe if they made enough on this job, Art would actually be pleased with Ryan for once. Maybe he would even say he was proud of him. And maybe, just maybe, Ryan could have one whole day where he didn’t live in utter fear of what Art would do to him if he returned empty handed. Ryan shook his head, angry with himself for daydreaming about what could be. He wasn’t going to get anywhere staring at the scenery all day. Focusing back on the task at hand, he headed toward the bathroom to take a shower. He wracked his brain trying to come up with some sort of plan.
Wincing as he peeled off his shirt, he twisted his upper body in an attempt to get a better look at his back. Some of the welts were healing, while others were beginning to take on an angry red appearance. Perhaps not taking a shower the night before hadn’t been such a good idea. The hot water might have helped with the infection. There was nothing he could do about that now. Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had to deal with infection and it wouldn’t be the last. He shouldn’t be wasting time worrying about a few cuts and bruises. He had a job to do.
He casually threw the shirt into the hamper. He paused for a moment and watched it land on top of his own white tank top. Shit, how could he be so dumb? Not once had he thought about how his back would bleed through onto the shirts. He picked up both shirts looking at the dark reddish brown marks that mottled them. Remembering what Mr. Cohen had told him the night before about leaving his clothes to be washed, he cursed in frustration. He couldn’t take the chance of someone seeing the shirts and asking questions.
Also, there was the underlying fear of what Mr. Cohen would do to him if he discovered what Ryan had done to his shirt. For some bizarre reason, the man had been kind enough to loan him some clothes, and Ryan in his stupidity, may have ruined one them. He knew the consequences of being careless. He had to get those stains out himself.
Suddenly, Ryan smiled. It was so easy; he should have thought of it before. He finally had the beginnings of a plan. He could wash them himself; thus, taking care of two problems at once. He would be able clean the shirts, before anyone found out about the stains, and it would give him an excuse to see more of the house. He never thought he would be grateful for being beaten. Art had been right; Ryan never did appreciate all the things he did for him.
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Kirsten had just finished her second cup of coffee when Sandy arrived home from his morning surf. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Morning, honey. You’re up early for a Saturday.”
“I have to go into work for a little while today. Dad and I have a big meeting with some new clients on Monday and I need to get prepared. I doubt I’ll be home until after lunch.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll manage.” He looked around the house. “Where’s Seth? From the way he was acting last night, I thought he would be up and waiting for Ryan to play that video game he kept talking about.”
“He was, but I sent him outside about twenty minutes ago. You know how high-strung he usually is?”
“Boy, do I ever.”
“Well, multiply that by ten. He was literally bouncing off the walls. I swear he asked me every minute on the dot when Ryan was going to wake up. Honestly, from the way he was acting you would think it was Chrismukkah.”
“So Ryan’s still asleep?”
“Not anymore. About five minutes ago, I saw some movement in the pool house.”
Sandy walked to the patio doors staring out at the pool house. Kirsten stood and placed her arm around his waist. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“All of the tossing and turning last night was a fairly good hint. But you left for surfing an hour earlier than usual. That’s always a sure sign you have something troubling you.”
“I can’t help it. There’s just something about him. I feel like I should do more for him than simply offer him a bed for the weekend.” He turned to her. “Do you think I’m crazy, caring so much for a kid that I’ve only known for twenty-four hours?”
“No, I don’t. He’s gotten to me, too. You know how unhappy I was with the idea of you bringing him home, but when I saw him standing there covered in bruises and looking so scared, my heart ached for him. He seemed so lost. Then during dinner, the way he devoured his food. Sometimes I think Seth is going to eat us out of house and home, but there was something different about the way Ryan ate. There was an almost desperate quality to it.”
“I know what you mean, honey. He reminds me of this stray dog that used to hang around our apartment building back when I was a kid in the Bronx. Some of the neighborhood kids liked to pick on him. They were constantly teasing it. They would get pretty mean. I always felt so sorry for it. Whenever I could sneak food past Ma, I would feed it every chance I got. The whole time the dog ate, he would look at me like he expected me to take it back. I think he thought I was using the food to trick him. Like I was just luring him close so I could get a better aim. Right up until he fell asleep at the table, Ryan never took his eyes off me during the entire meal. The look on his face while he was eating reminded me exactly of that poor abused dog.”
“What happened to him...the dog?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he got tired of being picked on by the other kids. Maybe he got sick or hit by a car. The city might have picked him up. He just wasn’t around anymore one day. I don’t mean to compare Ryan to a stray puppy, but I don’t want to be sitting here a week, a month, or year from now and not have any idea where he is. It’s more than feeling sorry for him, I feel like I need to help him.”
As he spoke with such passion, Kirsten was reminded again of why she loved this man. She pulled him into an embrace.
Seth’s arrival broke the moment. “Hold it right there, you two - teenage son in the house. Move it to the other room; no one here needs to see that. “
Sandy sighed and shook his head in mock frustration. “Hello, son, and how are you this fine morning?”
“I still live in the Newport bubble surrounded by pod people, but other than that I’m doing pretty well. Thanks for asking.”
“Glad to hear it.” Sandy clasped him on the shoulder. “Remember today is Rosa’s day off. Your mother has to go into work for a while, and I need to make a few phone calls in my office. So you’ll be by yourself until Ryan comes in. Okay?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Dad, that’s a lot to handle, but I think I can do it. I’m not planning on burning the house down or anything.”
Sandy and Kirsten looked at him with skepticism.
“Don’t you two start that again. I was just trying to make my Superman figurine fly.”
“Yes, by strapping fireworks to its back and lighting them in the middle of the living room.”
“It worked, didn’t it? And I still say you should have bought fire retardant drapes. They were a hazard just waiting to happen. But seriously, aren’t you ever going to let that go? Give me a break. I was only seven.”
Sandy cleared his throat, and raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, twelve, but I haven’t done anything like that in years. You can trust me now.”
“We can only hope,” Kirsten said. “I need to get dressed for work.” With that, she headed for the bedroom, and Sandy went to his office.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth decided to wait for Ryan by playing his favorite Ninja game. He would have never admitted it to his mom, but he was glad she had basically kicked him out of the house earlier that morning. He had been so full of nervous energy. The hour of skateboarding had managed to calm him down. When Ryan did finally wake-up he didn’t want him to think he was a complete spaz with no friends. Just because it was the truth didn’t mean he wanted to advertise it.
He had just annihilated the last Death Warrior when he heard the knock on the patio doors. Without getting up, he waved Ryan into the house. “Hey. You know you don’t need to knock every time you want to come in.” Noticing the clothes in Ryan’s arms he added, “What’s that?”
“Just some dirty clothes.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. What are you doing with them?”
“I thought I’d do my laundry this morning. Where are your washer and dryer?” Ryan asked, looking around the room.
“How would I know? Mom and Rosa take care of that kind of thing. I’m not even sure we own such appliances.” Seeing Ryan’s face he started to laugh. “Dude, I was kidding. Lighten up. Come on, follow me.” Seth rose and started down the hall. He stopped mid-step and turned back to Ryan. “I wasn’t kidding about Mom or Rosa though. It’s their job to do the laundry.”
“Who’s Rosa?”
“She’s the maid and sometimes she even cooks for us, but she doesn’t usually work on the weekends. Mom does that sort of stuff then. The laundry I mean, we can only hope and pray that she doesn’t try to cook. I’m sure she would probably wash your clothes for you, if you asked.”
A maid; he should have known. People as rich as these would naturally have someone to clean up for them. It was just something else he would have to add to the list of things to worry about. It wasn’t just the family that needed to be gone when he and Art came back, now he had to make sure the maid wasn’t around. Seth told him she didn’t work weekends, but when did she work during the week and how late did she stay? Things seemed a lot more complicated again.
“I would rather do it myself. Your folks have done enough for me. I don’t need to cause anymore work for them.”
“Suit yourself. Try not to let my mom find out, though. I don’t want you putting any ideas in her head about me needing to help out more around here.”
Seth led him down the hallway, past the dining room, all the while he made mental notes of everything he saw.
“Well here we are,” Seth proclaimed, and opened the doors to reveal the washer and dryer. “Knock yourself out.”
“What’s down that way?” Ryan pointed down the hall.
“Not much, my dad’s office and their bedroom. Do you need to talk to one of them? They’re both still home.”
“No.” Realizing he had said that a little too fast, he tried to cover himself. “I was just curious. This place is huge.”
“Really, you think so? It’s not half as big as my grandpa’s place.”
Before Ryan had time to process that information, Kirsten’s voice called from the kitchen. “Seth, I’m leaving now. Where are you?”
“We’re in the laundry room, Mom.”
“Laundry room? Are you lost?”
“Ha-ha. I think we’ve talked about you not trying to be funny haven’t we, Mother? I’m here because I was showing Ryan where he could wash his clothes.”
Kirsten turned her attention to Ryan surveying his appearance. The bruises on his face were turning different colors, and the swelling around his eye didn’t appear to be going down much, but all in all, he didn’t look any worse than the night before. She smiled as she noticed the clothes he was wearing. She had been right; they were a little big on him. The jeans were baggy and rested low on his hips, while the t-shirt’s sleeves went clear to his elbows. Somehow, the loose fitting clothes made him look younger and making her want to protect him. She wondered if this was the way Sandy felt when he looked at the boy. Her staring was beginning to make him nervous, she noticed. He kept shifting his weight from side to side.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I was just looking to make sure the bruises on your face weren’t any worse. Did you sleep okay last night?”
“Yes, thank you.” He moved the clothes to his other arm.
“You know,” Kirsten said, and pointed to the clothes. “You don’t have to do that. I can wash them later this afternoon, after I get home.”
“I can’t let you do that. I’m used to doing all the laundry.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll just throw them in with Seth’s things.” She reached to take the clothes from him. He took a step back, hugging the clothes tighter to his chest.
“No, really, I can take care of it. Besides, you shouldn’t have to wash my,” he struggled for the right words. “Um, well, you know all my clothes.” He hoped that she would just let it drop. He had no idea what to do if she kept insisting.
Kirsten took his hesitancy for embarrassment. She gave him an amused grin. “Ryan, I do Seth’s laundry all the time. I know what teenage boy’s underpants look like.”
“Mom, do NOT say underpants.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” she apologized. “All right, Ryan, if you want to do your own laundry, I won’t stop you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Kirsten continued with a mischievous look on her face, “You know, Seth, Ryan says he does all the dishes and the laundry at his house. Why don’t you have him show you how to do a few of those things? That way, when Rosa is off you can start pitching in around here.”
Seth gave Ryan a dirty look. “Do you see what you started? What did I tell you? I hope you can sleep well at night knowing that you have just sentenced me to a life of servitude. It took me fifteen years to mold my parents into doing my every bidding, and you managed to ruin it in one day.”
“I think you’re overreacting just a bit.” Kirsten glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Your father’s in his study if you need anything. I’ll see you boys later this afternoon. Seth, try not to pester Ryan too much.”
“I’m not five, Mom.” He looked at Ryan. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know why I bother to keep them around.”
Seth wanted to find out more about Ryan. His parents hadn’t mentioned anything about Ryan’s family. Seth had been warned about asking him about his face, but they hadn’t told him he couldn’t ask about anything else. He didn’t even know why Ryan was staying here and not with his own parents. “So what about your folks? What are they like? Are they a total embarrassment to you, too?”
Ryan studied the clothes in his arms for a moment before speaking. “My mom’s gone. She died over three years ago, and my dad’s in prison for armed robbery. I live with my stepdad.”
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.” This was one of the rare times Seth really wished he didn’t talk so much. “I’ll just go back in the living room and start up the Playstation. I’ll see you whenever you’re done in here.”
After treating the stains on the shirts, and starting the washer, Ryan headed down the hallway in the direction of the Cohens’ bedroom. He stopped when he reached the stairs. Mrs. Cohen was gone, but Mr. Cohen was only a few feet away. He could come out of his office at any moment. Ryan couldn’t risk going in their bedroom and take the chance of getting caught snooping. It would have to be enough to at least know the general location of the rooms. He hoped that later an opportunity would arise where he would get the chance to explore more of the house. He turned around and joined Seth back in the family room.
“It’s about time.” Seth threw him a game controller. “That is exactly the reason I don’t do any of that cleaning nonsense. It takes too much time, and cuts into my training.”
Ryan took a place next to Seth on the floor. “What exactly do you think you’re in training for?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be ready for whatever it is. I just realized, you haven’t had breakfast yet. Help yourself to wide variety of cereals, or we have the Cohen staple, bagels.”
“I don’t know, Seth. Your mom didn’t say anything about me eating.”
“What are you talking about? She’s not going to care if you eat a bowl of Captain Crunch.”
“I better not. I don’t want your folks getting mad at me, and thinking I’m taking advantage of them.”
“Okay, whatever, man.” He turned his attention back to the game. “Now get prepared to be amazed at my ultimate power.”
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Roughly an hour later, Sandy was finished calling in every favor he had owed to him. He had contacted everyone he could think of that would be willing to dig up information on Art or any other member of Ryan’s family. It hadn’t been easy since it was the weekend, but he was positive that they would come up with something before Monday morning. Now, he just needed to see what he could discover on his computer at work. He had to tell the boys that he would be gone the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. He emerged from his office to the various sounds of video games and Seth’s constant chatter.
“Dude, what were you thinking? Where was your head, man?”
Even though Ryan wasn’t saying a word, Sandy was pleased that the two boys seemed to be getting along so well. He loved Seth, but he wasn’t blind. He knew that Seth was different from all the other kids in Newport, and it worried him that he didn’t have any friends. Maybe having Ryan around for the weekend would help him out of his shell.
As soon as he set foot in the room, Sandy noticed the change in Ryan. While not anywhere near as animated as Seth, up until that point he had appeared to be relaxed. But the moment he saw Sandy, he dropped the controller, scooted back farther against the couch, drawing his knees to his chest.
Sandy tried to sound casual. “Hello, men. How are you doing this morning, Ryan?”
“Just fine. Do you mind? We’re in the middle of a very important game here.”
“It’s amazing. I didn’t even see Ryan’s mouth move. Yet, he answered my question while imitating your voice, Seth. Let me try that again. Ryan, how are you this morning? Did Seth even let you eat breakfast before starting this marathon of mayhem?”
“He didn’t eat anything.”
“Seth.” Ryan said under his breath, trying to send his new friend a warning.
Sandy looked concerned. “How come you didn’t eat breakfast, Ryan? I didn’t know fifteen year old boys were ever not hungry.”
Ryan only shrugged his shoulders in response.
“He said Mom didn’t tell him it was okay. I tried to explain that you guys wouldn’t care, but he wouldn't listen to me.”
“Thank you, Seth, but I want Ryan to talk for himself, please.” He looked at Ryan waiting for the boy to make eye contact. “Is that true? Were you worried that we would get mad at you if you ate without permission?”
His answer was yet another shoulder shrug. Sandy went into the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later with a bottle of juice and a bagel. “Here you go. One bagel personally shmeared by the King of Shmear himself, yours truly.”
Ryan hesitantly reached out, before drawing his arms back, crossing them against his chest. He muttered something about it being fine and that he was okay. Once again, Ryan’s eyes reminded Sandy of the kicked puppy from his youth.
“No, it’s not okay. You need to eat. It’s important for kids to have three meals a day. Look at Seth - he’s a bottomless pit and still scrawny.”
“Lean and mean, Dad. I’ve told you a hundred times…lean and mean.”
“Yes, Seth,” Sandy said, patronizingly. He put the bagel and juice on the floor in front of Ryan and took a step back. “Here, I didn’t make this for myself.”
Keeping his head bowed, Ryan glanced at Sandy through his bangs, and then he looked at the bagel, then back to Sandy before finally picking up the bagel and taking a bite.
Sandy smiled. “Thank you. I need to go out for a few hours. You two are on your own for lunch this afternoon.” He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and handed Seth a small wad of bills. Ryan’s eyes widened at the amount of money Mr. Cohen had in his wallet. If he could score that much picking pockets, his life would be a lot easier.
“Here’s some money. You guys get whatever you want.” He looked directly at Ryan before continuing, “I’m giving Seth more than enough for both of you. I don’t want to come home and hear that you didn’t eat lunch, Ryan. For that matter, as long as you are here with us, you eat what you want, when you want. Consider this house your personal smorgasbord. Got it, kid?”
“Okay. I...I’m sorry.” He had stopped eating, and was nervously twisting his wrist cuff.
Damn it, he hadn’t meant to scare Ryan. He just didn’t want him to go hungry. He never imagined getting a kid to eat would be such an ordeal.
“I’m not mad, kid. Like I said before, I just want to make sure you’re getting enough to eat.” He decided to change the subject. “Seth, it’s a beautiful day outside. Why don’t you show Ryan around?”
“Sure, Dad there’s so much to do around here. Let’s see we could have plastic surgery or go work out at the club, and then go have plastic surgery. Decisions, decisions.”
“Seth,” Sandy said. “It’s not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say.” He sighed, and looked at Ryan. “What do you want to do?”
Ryan knew exactly what he wanted to do - he wanted to stay there and explore the house in private. But he knew that was never going to happen. It occurred to him that he still needed to find out a lot more about the Cohens habits and the security system. He bet that it wouldn’t be hard to get that information out of Seth. If he spent the afternoon with him, he figured he could find out just about everything he needed to know. Seth was a nice enough guy, but he was completely clueless.
Thinking about pumping Seth for information, a pit began to form in the bottom of Ryan’s stomach. He honestly like Seth and hated the thought of using him. He tried to squash those feelings, imagining Art’s anger if he failed. So what if Mrs. Cohen seemed genuinely concerned about his face? So what if Mr. Cohen made him a bagel? So what if the past hour he spent with Seth was the first time in forever he actually felt like a normal kid? He couldn’t keep letting his feelings for this family get in his way. Where did these feelings come from anyway? They didn’t care about him - no one did. And he couldn’t afford to care for them. He steeled himself against the foolish emotions he was feeling and turned to Seth.
“I don’t know. What do you guys do around here?”
tbc
Ratings/Warnings: In this chapter- Nothing major- Ryan angst & a couple of swear words.
Beta: As always a huge debt of gratitude to loracj2
Disclaimers: I own nothing in relation to The O.C. All mistakes are mine
Thank You: Previously I forgot to thank loracj2, beachtree, finlee, and fifimom for helping me out with questions regarding home security and gated communities. That information will finally show up next chapter. Also thank you to katwoman for letting me bounce ideas off of her.
Summary: Beginning of Season 1, AU, In The Pilot, Kirsten asks Sandy “What if this is all a scam? What if he’s just using you to case the house?” In this story it is the truth, but not by Ryan’s choice. For the purposes of this story Dawn is dead and there never was a Trey.
Twist of Fate: Chapter Four
Ryan awoke in stages.
His first sensation, as always after one of Art’s punishments, was one of aching soreness. The mornings were always the worst. It was as if the previous day’s suffering settled deep into every joint and muscle. Even the slightest movement would bring with it a new level of hurt. He buried his head deeper into the pillow, trying to brace himself for the wave of pain that he knew was to come.
It was that movement that caused him to notice the scent of his new surroundings. It was fresh, clean, and completely foreign to him. The house in Chino was old and damp. There was a certain mustiness that never left, no matter what time of year or the weather. It was combined with the lingering odor of stale cigarette smoke and beer. In Chino, the air always hung thick and heavy. At times Ryan thought he could feel it wrapping itself around him. It enveloped him...suffocated him...trapping him all the more.
Rolling on to his side, he stifled a groan. It was important not to make too much noise. Art did not appreciate being woken up by the sound of whining. Ryan attempted to find a comfortable position; one that would not put pressure on his back. He lay there for just a moment, letting the soft warmth of the bed soothe his battered body. It was at that moment he remembered that he was at the Cohens. The pillow should have given it away, thought Ryan. He didn’t even have one in Chino. Most nights, if it wasn’t too cold, and he didn’t need it for warmth, Ryan rolled up his sweatshirt into a makeshift pillow. On cooler evenings, he learned to do without, making do by resting his head in the crook of his arm. He had learned to do without a lot of things in his young life.
He didn’t have a bed for that matter either, just a thin mattress that did little to protect him from the cold hard floor. He was grateful to even have that much. He had come across it one early afternoon when he was thirteen. A recently evicted neighbor had left it behind on the curb in their haste to get the hell out of Chino. Ryan had been thrilled with the discovery, and had gone out and “found” some sheets in a nearby neighborhood that had been left out to dry. He had never taken anything just for himself before, feeling guilty the entire walk home. With each step he took, the sheets felt heavier and heavier. He had just reached the sidewalk in front of the house when he decided that he had to return them. Stealing because Art made him, and stealing because he could were two entirely different matters. With the sheets still tucked firmly under his arm, he turned to head back to the house where he had found them. Unfortunately, Art had been sitting on the front porch and was down the sidewalk in a flash. He grabbed Ryan’s arm and dragged him into the house. He had been furious with Ryan; not believing the boy would take a chance at getting caught stealing something so frivolous. He had ripped the sheets to shreds and thoroughly disciplined Ryan for being so self-indulgent. It was the first and the last time Ryan ever stole for selfish reasons.
As the morning’s rays flooded the pool house, Ryan squinted his eyes against the light. He was quite sure the sun never shone quite so brightly in Chino. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked around in awe at the Cohens’ wealth. The previous evening’s moonlight had not done justice to their home. He had only seen places like this on television and in magazines, and even then he had doubted people actually lived in them. Gingerly he rose from the bed, and walked to the glass doors directly in from of him, taking in the infinity pool and the mansion.
He couldn’t help but think of how horribly unfair it all was. The Cohens were living in the lap of luxury. While for him and his family, if you could call it that, every day was a struggle. Art had always told him that life wasn’t fair, but he had never realized the extent of that statement until that very moment. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong to take from these people. After all, they had so much and he had so little. What would it matter to them if they lost a couple of televisions and some jewelry? They could buy whatever they wanted whenever they wanted.
Stealing was wrong. Ryan could never get past that, and he hated it. But the thought of not having to face Art’s disappointment outweighed most of his guilt. Maybe if they made enough on this job, Art would actually be pleased with Ryan for once. Maybe he would even say he was proud of him. And maybe, just maybe, Ryan could have one whole day where he didn’t live in utter fear of what Art would do to him if he returned empty handed. Ryan shook his head, angry with himself for daydreaming about what could be. He wasn’t going to get anywhere staring at the scenery all day. Focusing back on the task at hand, he headed toward the bathroom to take a shower. He wracked his brain trying to come up with some sort of plan.
Wincing as he peeled off his shirt, he twisted his upper body in an attempt to get a better look at his back. Some of the welts were healing, while others were beginning to take on an angry red appearance. Perhaps not taking a shower the night before hadn’t been such a good idea. The hot water might have helped with the infection. There was nothing he could do about that now. Besides, it wasn’t the first time he had to deal with infection and it wouldn’t be the last. He shouldn’t be wasting time worrying about a few cuts and bruises. He had a job to do.
He casually threw the shirt into the hamper. He paused for a moment and watched it land on top of his own white tank top. Shit, how could he be so dumb? Not once had he thought about how his back would bleed through onto the shirts. He picked up both shirts looking at the dark reddish brown marks that mottled them. Remembering what Mr. Cohen had told him the night before about leaving his clothes to be washed, he cursed in frustration. He couldn’t take the chance of someone seeing the shirts and asking questions.
Also, there was the underlying fear of what Mr. Cohen would do to him if he discovered what Ryan had done to his shirt. For some bizarre reason, the man had been kind enough to loan him some clothes, and Ryan in his stupidity, may have ruined one them. He knew the consequences of being careless. He had to get those stains out himself.
Suddenly, Ryan smiled. It was so easy; he should have thought of it before. He finally had the beginnings of a plan. He could wash them himself; thus, taking care of two problems at once. He would be able clean the shirts, before anyone found out about the stains, and it would give him an excuse to see more of the house. He never thought he would be grateful for being beaten. Art had been right; Ryan never did appreciate all the things he did for him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kirsten had just finished her second cup of coffee when Sandy arrived home from his morning surf. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Morning, honey. You’re up early for a Saturday.”
“I have to go into work for a little while today. Dad and I have a big meeting with some new clients on Monday and I need to get prepared. I doubt I’ll be home until after lunch.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll manage.” He looked around the house. “Where’s Seth? From the way he was acting last night, I thought he would be up and waiting for Ryan to play that video game he kept talking about.”
“He was, but I sent him outside about twenty minutes ago. You know how high-strung he usually is?”
“Boy, do I ever.”
“Well, multiply that by ten. He was literally bouncing off the walls. I swear he asked me every minute on the dot when Ryan was going to wake up. Honestly, from the way he was acting you would think it was Chrismukkah.”
“So Ryan’s still asleep?”
“Not anymore. About five minutes ago, I saw some movement in the pool house.”
Sandy walked to the patio doors staring out at the pool house. Kirsten stood and placed her arm around his waist. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“All of the tossing and turning last night was a fairly good hint. But you left for surfing an hour earlier than usual. That’s always a sure sign you have something troubling you.”
“I can’t help it. There’s just something about him. I feel like I should do more for him than simply offer him a bed for the weekend.” He turned to her. “Do you think I’m crazy, caring so much for a kid that I’ve only known for twenty-four hours?”
“No, I don’t. He’s gotten to me, too. You know how unhappy I was with the idea of you bringing him home, but when I saw him standing there covered in bruises and looking so scared, my heart ached for him. He seemed so lost. Then during dinner, the way he devoured his food. Sometimes I think Seth is going to eat us out of house and home, but there was something different about the way Ryan ate. There was an almost desperate quality to it.”
“I know what you mean, honey. He reminds me of this stray dog that used to hang around our apartment building back when I was a kid in the Bronx. Some of the neighborhood kids liked to pick on him. They were constantly teasing it. They would get pretty mean. I always felt so sorry for it. Whenever I could sneak food past Ma, I would feed it every chance I got. The whole time the dog ate, he would look at me like he expected me to take it back. I think he thought I was using the food to trick him. Like I was just luring him close so I could get a better aim. Right up until he fell asleep at the table, Ryan never took his eyes off me during the entire meal. The look on his face while he was eating reminded me exactly of that poor abused dog.”
“What happened to him...the dog?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he got tired of being picked on by the other kids. Maybe he got sick or hit by a car. The city might have picked him up. He just wasn’t around anymore one day. I don’t mean to compare Ryan to a stray puppy, but I don’t want to be sitting here a week, a month, or year from now and not have any idea where he is. It’s more than feeling sorry for him, I feel like I need to help him.”
As he spoke with such passion, Kirsten was reminded again of why she loved this man. She pulled him into an embrace.
Seth’s arrival broke the moment. “Hold it right there, you two - teenage son in the house. Move it to the other room; no one here needs to see that. “
Sandy sighed and shook his head in mock frustration. “Hello, son, and how are you this fine morning?”
“I still live in the Newport bubble surrounded by pod people, but other than that I’m doing pretty well. Thanks for asking.”
“Glad to hear it.” Sandy clasped him on the shoulder. “Remember today is Rosa’s day off. Your mother has to go into work for a while, and I need to make a few phone calls in my office. So you’ll be by yourself until Ryan comes in. Okay?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Dad, that’s a lot to handle, but I think I can do it. I’m not planning on burning the house down or anything.”
Sandy and Kirsten looked at him with skepticism.
“Don’t you two start that again. I was just trying to make my Superman figurine fly.”
“Yes, by strapping fireworks to its back and lighting them in the middle of the living room.”
“It worked, didn’t it? And I still say you should have bought fire retardant drapes. They were a hazard just waiting to happen. But seriously, aren’t you ever going to let that go? Give me a break. I was only seven.”
Sandy cleared his throat, and raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, twelve, but I haven’t done anything like that in years. You can trust me now.”
“We can only hope,” Kirsten said. “I need to get dressed for work.” With that, she headed for the bedroom, and Sandy went to his office.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seth decided to wait for Ryan by playing his favorite Ninja game. He would have never admitted it to his mom, but he was glad she had basically kicked him out of the house earlier that morning. He had been so full of nervous energy. The hour of skateboarding had managed to calm him down. When Ryan did finally wake-up he didn’t want him to think he was a complete spaz with no friends. Just because it was the truth didn’t mean he wanted to advertise it.
He had just annihilated the last Death Warrior when he heard the knock on the patio doors. Without getting up, he waved Ryan into the house. “Hey. You know you don’t need to knock every time you want to come in.” Noticing the clothes in Ryan’s arms he added, “What’s that?”
“Just some dirty clothes.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that. What are you doing with them?”
“I thought I’d do my laundry this morning. Where are your washer and dryer?” Ryan asked, looking around the room.
“How would I know? Mom and Rosa take care of that kind of thing. I’m not even sure we own such appliances.” Seeing Ryan’s face he started to laugh. “Dude, I was kidding. Lighten up. Come on, follow me.” Seth rose and started down the hall. He stopped mid-step and turned back to Ryan. “I wasn’t kidding about Mom or Rosa though. It’s their job to do the laundry.”
“Who’s Rosa?”
“She’s the maid and sometimes she even cooks for us, but she doesn’t usually work on the weekends. Mom does that sort of stuff then. The laundry I mean, we can only hope and pray that she doesn’t try to cook. I’m sure she would probably wash your clothes for you, if you asked.”
A maid; he should have known. People as rich as these would naturally have someone to clean up for them. It was just something else he would have to add to the list of things to worry about. It wasn’t just the family that needed to be gone when he and Art came back, now he had to make sure the maid wasn’t around. Seth told him she didn’t work weekends, but when did she work during the week and how late did she stay? Things seemed a lot more complicated again.
“I would rather do it myself. Your folks have done enough for me. I don’t need to cause anymore work for them.”
“Suit yourself. Try not to let my mom find out, though. I don’t want you putting any ideas in her head about me needing to help out more around here.”
Seth led him down the hallway, past the dining room, all the while he made mental notes of everything he saw.
“Well here we are,” Seth proclaimed, and opened the doors to reveal the washer and dryer. “Knock yourself out.”
“What’s down that way?” Ryan pointed down the hall.
“Not much, my dad’s office and their bedroom. Do you need to talk to one of them? They’re both still home.”
“No.” Realizing he had said that a little too fast, he tried to cover himself. “I was just curious. This place is huge.”
“Really, you think so? It’s not half as big as my grandpa’s place.”
Before Ryan had time to process that information, Kirsten’s voice called from the kitchen. “Seth, I’m leaving now. Where are you?”
“We’re in the laundry room, Mom.”
“Laundry room? Are you lost?”
“Ha-ha. I think we’ve talked about you not trying to be funny haven’t we, Mother? I’m here because I was showing Ryan where he could wash his clothes.”
Kirsten turned her attention to Ryan surveying his appearance. The bruises on his face were turning different colors, and the swelling around his eye didn’t appear to be going down much, but all in all, he didn’t look any worse than the night before. She smiled as she noticed the clothes he was wearing. She had been right; they were a little big on him. The jeans were baggy and rested low on his hips, while the t-shirt’s sleeves went clear to his elbows. Somehow, the loose fitting clothes made him look younger and making her want to protect him. She wondered if this was the way Sandy felt when he looked at the boy. Her staring was beginning to make him nervous, she noticed. He kept shifting his weight from side to side.
“I’m sorry, Ryan. I was just looking to make sure the bruises on your face weren’t any worse. Did you sleep okay last night?”
“Yes, thank you.” He moved the clothes to his other arm.
“You know,” Kirsten said, and pointed to the clothes. “You don’t have to do that. I can wash them later this afternoon, after I get home.”
“I can’t let you do that. I’m used to doing all the laundry.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll just throw them in with Seth’s things.” She reached to take the clothes from him. He took a step back, hugging the clothes tighter to his chest.
“No, really, I can take care of it. Besides, you shouldn’t have to wash my,” he struggled for the right words. “Um, well, you know all my clothes.” He hoped that she would just let it drop. He had no idea what to do if she kept insisting.
Kirsten took his hesitancy for embarrassment. She gave him an amused grin. “Ryan, I do Seth’s laundry all the time. I know what teenage boy’s underpants look like.”
“Mom, do NOT say underpants.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” she apologized. “All right, Ryan, if you want to do your own laundry, I won’t stop you.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Kirsten continued with a mischievous look on her face, “You know, Seth, Ryan says he does all the dishes and the laundry at his house. Why don’t you have him show you how to do a few of those things? That way, when Rosa is off you can start pitching in around here.”
Seth gave Ryan a dirty look. “Do you see what you started? What did I tell you? I hope you can sleep well at night knowing that you have just sentenced me to a life of servitude. It took me fifteen years to mold my parents into doing my every bidding, and you managed to ruin it in one day.”
“I think you’re overreacting just a bit.” Kirsten glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get going. Your father’s in his study if you need anything. I’ll see you boys later this afternoon. Seth, try not to pester Ryan too much.”
“I’m not five, Mom.” He looked at Ryan. “I swear, sometimes I don’t know why I bother to keep them around.”
Seth wanted to find out more about Ryan. His parents hadn’t mentioned anything about Ryan’s family. Seth had been warned about asking him about his face, but they hadn’t told him he couldn’t ask about anything else. He didn’t even know why Ryan was staying here and not with his own parents. “So what about your folks? What are they like? Are they a total embarrassment to you, too?”
Ryan studied the clothes in his arms for a moment before speaking. “My mom’s gone. She died over three years ago, and my dad’s in prison for armed robbery. I live with my stepdad.”
“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.” This was one of the rare times Seth really wished he didn’t talk so much. “I’ll just go back in the living room and start up the Playstation. I’ll see you whenever you’re done in here.”
After treating the stains on the shirts, and starting the washer, Ryan headed down the hallway in the direction of the Cohens’ bedroom. He stopped when he reached the stairs. Mrs. Cohen was gone, but Mr. Cohen was only a few feet away. He could come out of his office at any moment. Ryan couldn’t risk going in their bedroom and take the chance of getting caught snooping. It would have to be enough to at least know the general location of the rooms. He hoped that later an opportunity would arise where he would get the chance to explore more of the house. He turned around and joined Seth back in the family room.
“It’s about time.” Seth threw him a game controller. “That is exactly the reason I don’t do any of that cleaning nonsense. It takes too much time, and cuts into my training.”
Ryan took a place next to Seth on the floor. “What exactly do you think you’re in training for?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll be ready for whatever it is. I just realized, you haven’t had breakfast yet. Help yourself to wide variety of cereals, or we have the Cohen staple, bagels.”
“I don’t know, Seth. Your mom didn’t say anything about me eating.”
“What are you talking about? She’s not going to care if you eat a bowl of Captain Crunch.”
“I better not. I don’t want your folks getting mad at me, and thinking I’m taking advantage of them.”
“Okay, whatever, man.” He turned his attention back to the game. “Now get prepared to be amazed at my ultimate power.”
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Roughly an hour later, Sandy was finished calling in every favor he had owed to him. He had contacted everyone he could think of that would be willing to dig up information on Art or any other member of Ryan’s family. It hadn’t been easy since it was the weekend, but he was positive that they would come up with something before Monday morning. Now, he just needed to see what he could discover on his computer at work. He had to tell the boys that he would be gone the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. He emerged from his office to the various sounds of video games and Seth’s constant chatter.
“Dude, what were you thinking? Where was your head, man?”
Even though Ryan wasn’t saying a word, Sandy was pleased that the two boys seemed to be getting along so well. He loved Seth, but he wasn’t blind. He knew that Seth was different from all the other kids in Newport, and it worried him that he didn’t have any friends. Maybe having Ryan around for the weekend would help him out of his shell.
As soon as he set foot in the room, Sandy noticed the change in Ryan. While not anywhere near as animated as Seth, up until that point he had appeared to be relaxed. But the moment he saw Sandy, he dropped the controller, scooted back farther against the couch, drawing his knees to his chest.
Sandy tried to sound casual. “Hello, men. How are you doing this morning, Ryan?”
“Just fine. Do you mind? We’re in the middle of a very important game here.”
“It’s amazing. I didn’t even see Ryan’s mouth move. Yet, he answered my question while imitating your voice, Seth. Let me try that again. Ryan, how are you this morning? Did Seth even let you eat breakfast before starting this marathon of mayhem?”
“He didn’t eat anything.”
“Seth.” Ryan said under his breath, trying to send his new friend a warning.
Sandy looked concerned. “How come you didn’t eat breakfast, Ryan? I didn’t know fifteen year old boys were ever not hungry.”
Ryan only shrugged his shoulders in response.
“He said Mom didn’t tell him it was okay. I tried to explain that you guys wouldn’t care, but he wouldn't listen to me.”
“Thank you, Seth, but I want Ryan to talk for himself, please.” He looked at Ryan waiting for the boy to make eye contact. “Is that true? Were you worried that we would get mad at you if you ate without permission?”
His answer was yet another shoulder shrug. Sandy went into the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later with a bottle of juice and a bagel. “Here you go. One bagel personally shmeared by the King of Shmear himself, yours truly.”
Ryan hesitantly reached out, before drawing his arms back, crossing them against his chest. He muttered something about it being fine and that he was okay. Once again, Ryan’s eyes reminded Sandy of the kicked puppy from his youth.
“No, it’s not okay. You need to eat. It’s important for kids to have three meals a day. Look at Seth - he’s a bottomless pit and still scrawny.”
“Lean and mean, Dad. I’ve told you a hundred times…lean and mean.”
“Yes, Seth,” Sandy said, patronizingly. He put the bagel and juice on the floor in front of Ryan and took a step back. “Here, I didn’t make this for myself.”
Keeping his head bowed, Ryan glanced at Sandy through his bangs, and then he looked at the bagel, then back to Sandy before finally picking up the bagel and taking a bite.
Sandy smiled. “Thank you. I need to go out for a few hours. You two are on your own for lunch this afternoon.” He dug into his back pocket for his wallet and handed Seth a small wad of bills. Ryan’s eyes widened at the amount of money Mr. Cohen had in his wallet. If he could score that much picking pockets, his life would be a lot easier.
“Here’s some money. You guys get whatever you want.” He looked directly at Ryan before continuing, “I’m giving Seth more than enough for both of you. I don’t want to come home and hear that you didn’t eat lunch, Ryan. For that matter, as long as you are here with us, you eat what you want, when you want. Consider this house your personal smorgasbord. Got it, kid?”
“Okay. I...I’m sorry.” He had stopped eating, and was nervously twisting his wrist cuff.
Damn it, he hadn’t meant to scare Ryan. He just didn’t want him to go hungry. He never imagined getting a kid to eat would be such an ordeal.
“I’m not mad, kid. Like I said before, I just want to make sure you’re getting enough to eat.” He decided to change the subject. “Seth, it’s a beautiful day outside. Why don’t you show Ryan around?”
“Sure, Dad there’s so much to do around here. Let’s see we could have plastic surgery or go work out at the club, and then go have plastic surgery. Decisions, decisions.”
“Seth,” Sandy said. “It’s not that bad.”
“Easy for you to say.” He sighed, and looked at Ryan. “What do you want to do?”
Ryan knew exactly what he wanted to do - he wanted to stay there and explore the house in private. But he knew that was never going to happen. It occurred to him that he still needed to find out a lot more about the Cohens habits and the security system. He bet that it wouldn’t be hard to get that information out of Seth. If he spent the afternoon with him, he figured he could find out just about everything he needed to know. Seth was a nice enough guy, but he was completely clueless.
Thinking about pumping Seth for information, a pit began to form in the bottom of Ryan’s stomach. He honestly like Seth and hated the thought of using him. He tried to squash those feelings, imagining Art’s anger if he failed. So what if Mrs. Cohen seemed genuinely concerned about his face? So what if Mr. Cohen made him a bagel? So what if the past hour he spent with Seth was the first time in forever he actually felt like a normal kid? He couldn’t keep letting his feelings for this family get in his way. Where did these feelings come from anyway? They didn’t care about him - no one did. And he couldn’t afford to care for them. He steeled himself against the foolish emotions he was feeling and turned to Seth.
“I don’t know. What do you guys do around here?”
tbc