1969
“So how’s the kid doing at night? Still having nightmares?” Grizz asked Blue as they sat at the bar and drank their beer.
“He’s getting better, but he still won’t go to bed unless the door that connects our rooms is left open,” Blue answered, then paused to give Grizz a look. “You never mentioned a little brother before.”
Grizz thought carefully. He would have to be cautious with his answer. He never told Blue that Tommy was his little brother. He’d just told Blue the boy was going to be living at the motel and that Blue should pose as his older brother. Blue had just assumed Grizz was the kid’s older brother.
Grizz took a sip of his beer and answered casually. “Wasn’t around much. Was gone by the time he was born. You know I didn’t stay in touch with my family. I don’t think he has any memory of me.”
Of course this was all a lie. Tommy wouldn’t have any memory of Grizz because Grizz didn’t even know he existed until a few months ago. Before Blue could reply, Grizz added, “You keep working on him. Keep convincing him. He’s young enough that he’ll believe what we tell him.”
Blue didn’t say anything, just nodded. He’d known Grizz as long as he could remember and he’d never heard him mention a family. Didn’t mean he didn’t have one. He just never talked about them. He also knew Grizz would never let people know he had a younger brother who lived at the motel. It would make Grizz too vulnerable and probably wouldn’t be safe for the kid. Grizz had some serious enemies.
“You know Misty’s been picking on him.”
“Yeah. It’s okay. It’ll make him tough.”
“Did you know how smart he is? I mean he’s, what, ten and he was arguing with Chip about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Made Chip look like an idiot. Everyone is starting to call him grown-up runt instead of just runt.”
Grizz looked directly at Blue. “Is that where they came up with Grunt? Short for grown-up runt?”
“Yeah, a couple of the guys are calling him that. I don’t think they mean anything by it. It’s just easier to say. Want me to make ‘em stop? It’s kind of rude.”
Grizz didn’t answer right away. He took another sip of his beer and stared at something on the back wall of the bar. With a nickname like Grunt, there was no doubt he would probably get picked on by someone. “No, let them call him that. Like I said, the kid needs to be tough.”
Blue didn’t reply. He disagreed with Grizz on this point. The boy had been through enough. The first time Blue saw him without a shirt he’d had to hide his surprise. The kid was full of scars and mottled bruises. If he let himself think about it, Misty’s bitchiness was probably nothing compared to what he had already experienced. Still, maybe he’d tell her to back off in spite of what Grizz said.
When they got back to the motel, there was a small group gathered around the pit. As they approached the fire, Blue asked no one in particular, “Where’s the kid? Did Sissy get back with him yet?”
Sissy was Blue’s girlfriend. She’d driven the little boy down to Miami to get him some more clothes and books. The kid wouldn’t be attending school, but he’d still be getting some lessons. Upon first arriving at the motel, he’d immediately asked for books. “Learning books,” he’d called them. When Grizz and Blue saw the type of books he picked out, they were shocked. Nobody at the motel would be giving the boy lessons. The books he’d selected were out of their range of knowledge. They got him what he’d requested and left him to educate himself. He’d already devoured the ones he’d received when he first arrived. This was his second shopping trip.
“Yeah,” someone answered. “Sissy left. I think he’s in Misty’s room folding laundry or something.”
Blue gave Grizz a sidelong glance and Grizz signaled him to let it go. Damn. Why isn’t Grizz stepping in here? And why do I care so damn much? If Blue was honest with himself, the boy was growing on him. He was a smart and gentle child. He’d fascinated everyone in the couple of weeks that he’d been at the motel, dazzling them with his intelligence and showing a strong resilience to Misty’s verbal abuse. Even Chip was more captivated by him than mad when they’d started discussing politics and world events.
But truth be told, if the kid was going to be living here, he would have to be tough. Maybe Grizz was right to let some things go. To let him have an undignified nickname like Grunt.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later, after Grizz cut out Misty’s tongue for an off-the-cuff comment, that the child’s true intelligence came out. Without any medical experience, or at least none Blue knew of, the kid somehow managed to nurse her back to health by himself. Nobody had really liked Misty and most of the regulars weren’t even fazed when Grizz had come out of his room that night with blood all over him. Grunt was the only one who jumped up immediately and, seeing Grizz wasn’t hurt, had enough intuition to know something was terribly wrong. Misty hadn’t come out of Grizz’s room.
That night, Blue had watched from the pit as a hysterical Misty leaned heavily on the child she had been so mean to while he slowly and gently guided her back to her room.
That kid is way too good to be living here. Blue sighed and took another swig of beer.