The Elderly Kids: Short Stories: Take One a Day for One Week

By Matthew T. Bell

Have you ever thought life is tougher on you than others? Did you grow up too fast? Maybe you are one of The Elderly Kids. Inside youll find seven wildly different stories of what life does to us.
My collection is a fun creolization of action and beauty mixed with a dark-hued lyricism. Flirting with comedy, drama, and the supernatural, these tales are packed with language that produces comic book visuals. Brought to life by a try everything man-beast who is one crummy performance evaluation away from becoming a suicidal English teacher, this collection grapples with pharmaceutical temptations, the fangs of family, and the dance that is alcohol. It also navigates stepfatherdom, energy drink madness, the vortexes of race and rap, baby bombs and abuse.
Who in this zoo of protagonists will find their way and land on the shores of their own happiness? Each story is a unique journey into the universal question of What if? Take this fifteen dollar voyage into the unknown and get to know The Elderly Kids.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481725125

Matthew T. Bell

Matthew T. Bell is a middle school English teacher who enjoys basketball and beer. His accomplishments include drumming on two rock albums, getting several students published, and seeing his own collection meet publication. He and his wife live near the ocean with their dogs and are expecting their first child.

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2013 Matthew T. Bell. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 3/13/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2511-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2512-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904130

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Table of Contents

Grown

Earth Drum

Youth in Asia

G.P.S.

Gulp

Leslie

The Word Cup

This collection is dedicated to the Bourdon family, the Bell family, those who believed in me, and to those who didn’t.

The Elderly Kids

Short Stories:

Take One a Day for One Week

Grown

O nce upon a McChicken, my daddy fell in love. I knew she be trouble. Just like the last one.

We was eatin, it was my birthday. I was rockin the new jersey daddy had got me. It said Rose on the back. It was red because it was Chicago Bulls, and because I got some ketchup on it. That’s why he smacked me in the lip.

We were ballin that night, he spent at least twenty bucks at Mickey-D’s. We got a twenty-piece nuggets with all the sauces: Mustard, ketchup, ranch, sweet and sour, barbeque, and honey. His favorite was the sticky honey sauce. I like to eat one halfa nugget dipped in the spicy barbeque sauce and then dunk the second half in the cool ranch stuff. That golden chicken swam, but I don’t. I chew my grub and then wash it down. Chocolate milkshake, extra-large, like most of daddy’s women. He has a different word for them. I’d say it if we was friends, but you and me aint friends.

Daddy chewed on his sandwich, a fat teardrop of mayo squished out between the lettuce. He put it on his finger, licked at it, and looked up toward the cash register. I snatched me up a big handful of fries. They was all over the tray, the way we do the product at home. They was mad salty. He gave a spin to his diamond earring, licked his lips, and folded back the hot red box of one of them apple pies.

There was a quarter pounder wrapped in wet-looking yellow paper, it was smoking. The second of our 2-for-1 pies was next to it, a hot fudge Sundae with nuts was turning into one of those fancy coffee drinks that white people be drinkin. Spicy chicken strips were almost gone, I grabbed one, and saw him still looking toward the counter, toward a blond woman who looked like the quarter pounder, but she had the eyes of the princess they was giving out in this week’s Happy Meal for girls. I wasn’t allowed to get a happy meal, I was a man now.

When we got back to the trailer, I cried like a little bad word that daddy be sayin. I had forgotten my other present, my new basketball, at the courts. This punch hurt less than the last one. They always hurt less. It was eight at night when I finally got done walking to the park to get it back. My legs hurt, I had fudge on my face, and I wished that I had a ride with rims that I could use to get me home. Daddy said I was trippin if I thought he was gonna ride me back over there. He said I was grown, needed to man-up when I messed up. He didn’t say messed, but that’s what he meant. And I started walking back home.

I dealt with a bunch of freaky mess on the way home, and even more when I got there. The biters was out, and I kept smacking them, but they moved, and I kept hitting my own self. Dropping the ball and having to go and pick it up again. It was probably the best birthday I ever had. I got dinner and gifts this year. I got to spend some time alone. I rubbed the mesh on my jersey, it was real. I wish it didn’t have a stupid flower’s name on it. I aint no punk flower. I wondered if what I heard in the movies was true, could people only see my eyes at night, my teeth too? What if I close them both? Would I become invisible to the world? That might be nice. Like a superhero.

I did both and tried to walk through the night. I bet you five dollars I ran into more stuff than grandpa drinking Pepsi. I didn’t think getting hurt was as funny as he did. I kept walking though. I could go almost a minute without running smack into a sign, or curb, or tripping on a beer bottle. I thought about grandpa’s gold Jesus chain, his black golfer hat, and that loud laugh of his. Thump. A stop sign. I’d open my eyes, readjust, and try to go longer the next time. I thought about white girls and Mexican girls. I wondered if they would like my fly new gear. I could do it up, just like my pops. I couldn’t wait until I could get paid for my job. He kept telling me that he would pay me when the time was right, Shorty. He might be at home right now, waiting to tell me the good news. I sped up, smacked a biter, and kept rollin to the crib. I could be there by a lil after nine. I could borrow grandpa’s hat and chain, walk like daddy, and get me one of them light-skinned girls the next time I be working the buses.

I set the ball down in the grass next to what I think they call the garden rail. There was a stream on the other side of the rail and I started laughing. I was going to add to that stream, some grown man piss. I mean pee. I flopped out, shot high into the air, laughing so hard that something popped, and oh snap! Another pop, and another. Sonufa…I was crying again. Daddy would be mad. I put the goods away and found that I was bleeding green, like a vampire from some stupid book. Pop. I heard a loud engine and some crazy white people guitars and laughing.

The giant white truck had big lights on the top, the po po! The devil! No disrespect. I ran as fast as the good Lord let me. I remember hearing the tires screaming and a voice yelling We got a rabbit, boys! Yee-haww. Now, I understand why the cops be chasing a black man at night, that’s they job. But shootin paintballs at a little rabbit? That was just messed up, yo.

I never saw the rabbit, but I got a good look at the cops. And guess what? It weren’t no pigs, it was some longhaired white boys, and they had enough paint to paint a big ol house, and my backside. They lit me up and I had no choice but to jump in the stream, where the truck couldn’t go at. And I aint no darn swimmer!

I was holding the basketball in front of me and kicking my legs, like I did at my only swimming lesson. It was even darker out, my Dollar General watch had to have been dead. It was weird though, this midnight swim made me think back about that lesson, all I could remember was the sand stuck on my feet, the Twinkies from my lunch, grandpa drinking his Pepsi and using binoculars, and the best part: my swim teacher and her fat boobies, as she held me close. I didn’t even know why I liked them. I was shaking too. I trusted her though, I think she kind of liked me. She talked all soft, didn’t smack at me, and I kind of laid on the top of the water and she held me. Brown wet ponytail, black bathing suit with an American flag and white skin with little chocolate chip spots, and her front was so big that it looked like a back. My ear rubbed against that soft round titty as the water carried me up and down. That was the day that I fell in love. That was also the day I found out that hoes be hoes, just like daddy say.

She held my hand as we got out the water, grandpa had his binoculars pointed right at us. I was cold and shaking and I was proud of my new girlfriend. That’s when daddy walked down with his Bluetooth headset and snatched her from me. He turned the swagger on, licked his lips, and told me to get my stuff and get in the car. I saw him kiss her hand and put her digits into his iPhone. I learned three things that day: How to swim, what love felt like, and how to deal with a break up. I didn’t want to think about what happened to her after that. But I aint no snitch. And the truth is, I don’t really know.

When they truck got far enough away, I got myself back to that stupid road. It was mad late now. A whoopin was coming, even though it was still my birthday. I didn’t think it could be midnight yet. The biters was eating me up, I dribbled the basketball and pretended they was defense. I aint got all the ill handles yet, but behind the back, and crossovers with a spin, I got those aced. Moonlight and mosquitoes. And me playing my own little video game against the world.

When I got to the crib things started to pop off. Our Pit was in there whining so loud that I ran right up in there. And there she was. That Happy Meal princess. Naked as a jaybird, she was lookin all pink, and like a Big-Mac. Making crazy noise. And under it all, my pops. He winked at me, and gave me the sign to go back outside.

But he looked at my ruined jersey, pushed her off, I mean, took her off of him and set her down kindly. I was all froze up. I done got him vexed. His naked self kicked me in the belly, from the top step I fell straight back like in a movie, and my back hit the dirt. It was weird, I knew I had messed up, and I felt bad about disrespecting the clothes he put on my back. I couldn’t breathe right though. That naked white pudding lady started in with the screaming. Daddy don’t play with that mess.

Vick, our Pit, growled the whole time daddy and the princess talked it out. I stayed outside and minded my own. Daddy said he had to take her to grandpa’s junkyard to fix her car. Then he was gonna drive her home. She was sleep.

The next mornin, I woke up with a damn roach all up in my boxers. I smacked at him but kept my damn mouth shut. I couldn’t wake up daddy on a work day. I rolled off the mattress,