It’s Jake
An empty sleeve was all his mother saw. The boy held his breath as he lifted the loose floorboard, placing it on the bathroom floor. He strained his ears and heard the groans of a man and woman from his mother’s bedroom. He reached into the opening, using his thumb and forefinger to peel back the old stained cloth. His expression didn’t change at the sight of the revealed coins.
“Jake.” The voice was soft now, content. The boy, Jake, scrambled out from the bathroom and met his glowing mother. “Today’s been a good day.”
Jake smiled as she reached her hands out, allowing him to give a half-hug. Today was a good day.
The door slammed against the wall. George cursed and sat up.
“I heard you were fired a week ago. Fired! If you can’t pay the rent you’re out of here!”
George stared at the man, noting the red face was turning purple.
“Those bastards said I wasn’t needed anymore. I’ll get another job.”
“How? The only work you’ll find is relief work, if you’re lucky.”
“I’ll get the money alright!”
“Make it soon or you’ll be out by the end of the week!” The door slammed shut, the photo on the bedside table landed face down. George stared at the door, cursing under his breath before picking up the fallen photo.
It showed a man around twenty five with dark blonde hair. His brown eyes were shining with happiness as he held a woman close, hands wrapped around her waist. His face was squared and serious, but possessed a manipulative smirk. The woman was a whole head shorter than him, her short black hair attempting to hide her face. In her arms was a sleeping baby.
“I bet you’re laughing at me now, right bitch?” His hand ran through his now long hair. He tied it back into a messy ponytail. “There’s no way I’m going to become a charity case.”
George looked straight ahead as he walked, blocking the image of the broken men around him. Some were lucky and had a sleeping bag, the rest were slumped against a wall and huddled by a fire started in a waste bin. The dirt from the ground stained their clothes. He directed his gaze upwards to avoid the pleading eyes, noting the broken windows of the buildings.
“In just a few years New York has become this dump.” George said to himself. He stopped when he saw the blockade of people in the way. He glared at them, following the line’s direction with his eyes to the small entrance of a soup kitchen. Just a few more steps and he would join the line.
“What a poor little thing.” The whiny voice made wince but he looked anyway. “He must have lost it in the war.” A high class woman had stopped in front of a child while her husband sighed. The child was pathetic. His clothes were ripped and hanging from his thin frame, his face smudged with dirt that highlighted his paleness underneath. His state was unfortunate, but common. That hadn’t been what made the woman pick him out. This child was incomplete, one sleeve hanging at his side with no purpose.
“Dear he’s a child; he wouldn’t have been born until after the war.” The man beside her insisted. His wife ignored him and knelt down on the floor.
“It must be tough, poor little thing. Look after yourself now.” With her good deed done the woman could continue following her husband, ignoring the other people.
George narrowed his eyes at they boy who held the coin close to his chest. The kid’s right hand was fast to deposit the money in his pocket before moving to the soup line. George took the three steps that brought him behind the kid.
“You by yourself kid?” George asked. “It’s dangerous to be here without your parents.”
The boy turned and blinked at him. The stare irritated George.
“It’s jake.” He finally said, turning back around. George frowned.
“Aren’t you too young to know that old phrase? No one’s said it in years.”
“It’s who I am.”
No matter what George said, the brat, Jake, gave meaningless answers. George gazed off down the street, his feet longing to just leave the line. It was a long wait before they made it to the front of the queue.
“Oh hello there!” The woman behind the counter gushed. “What a poor little thing. Is he yours?”
George glanced between Jake and the woman. She thought they were related? They looked nothing alike.
“Yeah.” George said, placing an arm on Jake’s shoulder. The boy winced. “I wish he wasn’t so skinny though. My wife is sick you see and I have to take care of them both. I don’t want to lose them.”
“Well you hang in there!” She handed over a bowl of soup to each of them. “I’m sure your wife will pull through.” She winked, handing him another bowl.
Back on the street George talked as the kid sipped his soup.
“That was a decent con we just pulled. I bet you’ve never been given this much before, right?”
“…No.”
“Then how about we keep it up? I’ll queue with you and let you keep the extra food, and in return you pay me half the money you get from begging. How’s that sound, kid?”
“Pay you?”
“Yeah. You can get to feed your parents this way. There’s no way you’ll get enough food if you queue alone.”
“But why would you do this?”
George clenched his teeth at the question. “Because I need money moron! Why do you think?” Jake flinched but did nothing more.
“Okay. But we can’t talk about it. If we don’t talk about it, it never happens.”
George didn’t even bother to try to understand; he just smirked and finished his soup.
“How did you get this much?” His mother asked. Jake just smiled.
“We can’t talk about it.”
“What? Jake, has some man been bothering you? Don’t let anyone bother you, not unless…” She stopped, her hand going to her stomach.
“We can’t talk about that either.”
“…Let’s just eat.”
The sound of the front door opening drew his mother’s attention. Jake gazed off in the direction of the bathroom.
“Thomas! I didn’t realise you wanted me tonight.” The man had a grin on his face, his hair a chestnut brown and his eyes a piercing grey.
“Well I made some money and couldn’t resist.” Thomas said, his hands already touching her body. “I’ll even pay you extra.”
Jake stood and moved towards the bathroom.
“Jake? Are you still sleeping in there? I wish you wouldn’t. It can’t be…” Her words were drowned in a kiss. Jake closed the bathroom door. He slept there because he didn’t want to stay in the living room. He’d see the visitors as they entered his mother’s room.
He fell asleep in the tub only to be awakened by rough hands.
“What?”
“Quiet kid. It’s all jake remember? So be a good boy and do as you’re told.” His hands hurt; his grip too tight to break from. Jake screamed, but no one stopped it. She never would.
At breakfast his mother wouldn’t meet his gaze. The porridge felt too heavy to swallow.
“It doesn’t happen if we don’t talk about it.” He repeated to himself. His mother turned away.
George scrunched up the newspaper page.
“Where the hell is he? Damn kid.” In the month they had been working together the kid was never late.
“Are you George?” The man looked to be in his late twenties, his eyes a cold grey.
“Who the hell are you?” The man shoved a boy in front of him, Jake. His face was bruised and his body trembling. “What happened?”
“I’m a regular customer of his mothers. I noticed the kid’s been defiant lately. He told me about how you help him get extra food from the soup kitchen.”
“You beat up a kid?” George stood up and stared down at him.
“Please stop, Thomas.” Jake sobbed.
“I don’t like how you’ve been influencing this kid. He’s becoming a real pain when I visit. I’ll give you this one warning to stay away from him.”
“It’s none of your business what we’re doing. You’re not the kid’s father.”
“Neither are you.”
“Stop!” Jake shouted. Thomas’ punch knocked George to the dirt ground. A series of kicks to his stomach followed preventing him from standing to retaliate. He took in a breath and began coughing, choking. “Stop it!”
“What’s going on?” A crowd was forming. George looked up and groaned, pressing his face into the dirt. The kicks ceased.
“Come on brat, we’re leaving.” Thomas said, pushing through the crowd. “Now!”
George felt a small hand wrap around him. He winced and said nothing.
“I won’t tell you again kid. You know how your mother feels about you defying me.” Thomas said. “I care about your mother and she wants this family to work. Don’t disappoint her.”
“I can’t pretend it doesn’t happen.” Jake said into George’s shirt. “I can’t.”
“Damn brat. You better not come back then. Your mum belongs to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Jake said, sitting on the apartment floor. He looked around him at George’s home. The paint wall was faded and cracked. He saw only a bed, a couch, some drawers and a bedside table with a photo on it.
“Stop saying that already, you’re acting as if I died.” Jake bowed his head. “Stop sitting on the floor and get up.”
Jake stood and sat gently on the edge of the bed George lay on.
“Then it’s jake?”
“Like hell it is! You never told me your mother was a whore! And who is that guy? Your dad?”
“Dad left a long time ago. He told mum he couldn’t look after her and a child.” He paused a moment and took a deep breath. “That man was Thomas. He does things with my mum, and then he wants to do things to me. I don’t like it but he says it’s jake. Mum thinks if we don’t talk about it then it doesn’t happen. She’ll never talk about it with me.”
“…My God. Why not?”
“She’s getting fat. She started getting fat when only Thomas came to visit.”
“Looking for a way out of her lifestyle then. Even so it’s sick.”
“I think she loves him. Thomas loves her too; he just needs something more with that.” Jake said. He looked towards the bedside table. He lifted the photo and brought it close to his face.
“Is this your family?”
“Not anymore.”
Jake stood and placed the photo back.
“You’re going back? That guy will never change.”
“I have money.” Jake said.
“What?”
“I’ve been saving for a long time. I’ll give it all to you if you visit her next Friday. Thomas never comes on a Friday.”
“What the hell? Why should I?”
Jake wouldn’t answer.
Thomas sat at the table and smirked as he ate. Jake avoided his gaze.
“I think the kid understands now. It’s been a week since he’s seen that man. It’s all jake now.”
“That’s good.” His mother answered, hand on her stomach.
“Well I better be going. I’m working all day this time.”
The door closed and his mother turned to him. She reached her arms out. He hesitated but stepped into the hug.
Jake made sure he was in the bathroom when his mother answered the door for George. He held the heavy cloth close to his chest as he listened to them talk a moment. He frowned until he heard the door close and the two enter his mother’s bedroom. The muffled moans began.
“It’s working.” He smiled. “It will all be jake now.”
The sound of footsteps woke him. He began to stand but George shook his head and sat beside him. “Why did you want this?”
“You don’t have a family.” Jake said.
“My family left me, I’m not about to force my way into another one.”
“But…”
“Look kid, that baby is his, not mine. Your mother wants him, not me.”
The sound of the front door opening made George tense.
“Thomas?” His mother’s voice. “What are you doing here tonight? I have a client here.”
“I thought you were going to stop that now. Only I can have you.”
“I need the money, Thomas. Jake doesn’t bring extra food anymore.”
“I’m going out there.” George told Jake. Jake shook his head. “Sorry kid, but you’ll have to make up your own mind whether you’re staying here.”
George left the bathroom and Jake heard voices shouting. He curled up into a ball and shut his eyes.
“Thomas I didn’t know who he was! I thought he was just a client. It meant nothing.”
“It meant nothing.” Jake repeated, gripping the cloth tighter. He stood and left his bathroom, hovering at the doorway.
“I don’t intend to get involved with your woman. I’m just going to leave.”
“Like hell you will! I warned you before to stay away from us!” Jake saw a flash of a knife and heard George’s cry of pain.
“No!” Jake ran in, moving to George’s side. He was clutching his chest but was standing. “Stop it! Don’t hurt him anymore!”
“Thomas.” His mother pleaded.
“Fine, then get out. Kid, stand by your mother.”
“Jake,” she said; arms outstretched. Jake looked at George, he refused to meet his gaze. “Come on sweetie.”
Jake took a step forward, lifting his hand and placing the cloth in her hands.
“I can’t.” He said, stepping back.
“W-what’s this? Jake, please don’t leave!”
“It’s for your baby. Your child.”
“You’re my child! Don’t leave me!”
“I can’t!” he screamed. “I can’t pretend anymore! Even if we don’t talk about it, it still happens! It hurts! Why won’t you admit that? You never admit that!”
“Jake…”
“Kid, you’re hurting your mother.” Thomas glared. “Apologise and it will be jake.”
“No it won’t! It’s not jake! It was never jake!”
“I’m leaving now.” George broke in.
“Jake.” His mother said. She was crying. Jake was crying too. “Please.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t. Goodbye mum.”
A knock on George’s apartment door made him look away from the photo on the bedside table. He groaned; one hand on his wound as he stood, placing the photo back face down.
“Be quiet would you? Jake’s asleep.” The landlord scoffed but handed over the extra blankets without complaint.
“What the hell are you thinking? Kids are expensive and you’re a selfish bastard. Why are you doing this? Trying to replace your kid that bitch took from you?”
“Maybe. More than anything I couldn’t just leave him there. He sees me a decent guy. I like to believe I can become one with him around.”
George walked to the couch where Jake was sleeping, a smile on his little face. He tucked the blanket around the small boy.
“Suit yourself. Just make sure you keep paying your rent. I won’t be lenient just because you have a kid now.” The door closed. George stood, staring at the child.
“Now what the hell do I do?”
Scribbled Thoughts 