FOUR

As Johnny walked up the sidewalk, he could see Dylan sitting out front again. = He felt relieved for some reason. The kid looked okay. Just sad, but that was nothing new. His dirty blond hair was getting oily, as if it hadn’t b= een washed in days. In spite of the heat, the long sleeve shirt he wore covered= his arms completely, and probably a bunch of bruises too.

“Bad day?”= ; Johnny asked.

“Bad life.̶= 1;

“Yeah, me too.&= #8221; Johnny thought about his mom and felt a twinge deep inside him. If anyone k= new bad life, the kid knew it.

“Where's your o= ld man?” he asked.

“Don’t kn= ow. He won't be home until tomorrow night probably.” Dylan was holding a dandelion by its stem. He plucked the white, parachute-like seeds off a cou= ple at a time, and watched them float away in the wind.
&= nbsp; “Who's looking after you?”

“Nobody, I'm ol= d enough to take care of myself.” Dylan threw the dandelion stem onto the gras= s.
&= nbsp; Crap, the kid was going to be on his own all weekend. Did he even have any food in there? It wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t just walk away. Johnny followed him into the building.

As Dylan started to e= nter his apartment, Johnny had a thought.

“Hey, wait a second.”

“Why?” Dy= lan stood holding the door open.

Johnny suddenly felt = awkward. “Uh, so what are you going to do now?”

“Don’t kn= ow, maybe watch a video.”

“Can I come watch it with you?” Johnny asked.

“Nope.” <= br> &= nbsp; “Oh, okay then.” He half turned to walk away then turned back.<= /span>

Dylan was still looki= ng at him. The loneliness and desperation in his eyes touched Johnny. There was no way he could turn away from this kid.

“Is that a rule= ?” he asked. “No strangers?”

“Yup.”
&= nbsp; “Am I a stranger?”

“Well.” D= ylan hesitated. He obviously had to think about that. “Not really, I guess.”

“So it's probab= ly okay for a little while as long as your dad doesn’t find out, right?”= ;

Dylan gave him a part= ial grin. “Right,” he said and held open the door.

As Johnny entered, he wasn’t surprised by what he saw. The place was a d= ump. His mom would have had something to say about this.

“Do you mind?” he asked Dylan and pointed to the fridge.

“Nope.” Dylan was already rifling through a cardboard box of old videos that sat in= the corner beside a small TV.

Johnny opened the fridge. A couple of beer cans, an open carton of smokes, some mo= ldy luncheon meat and a stench that made Johnny want to hurl.=

“Gross” he said quietly, and closed the door. “So what are your dinner plans?” he asked Dylan, and opened the cupboard door.

“Peanut butter sandwich.” Dylan replied without hesitation.=

Johnny scanned the shelves, an open box of crackers, a not so fresh looking loaf of bread, peanut butter, a can of alphagetti and a= few boxes of macaroni and cheese. Sad.

“I think we can do better than this,” he said. “Do you like pizza?”

For the first time, Dylan’s deep blue eyes lit up.

“Yeah.” He stood up with a video in one hand. His stained sweatpants, obviously too small, had a hole in one of the knees.

Johnny felt a little surge. Now he knew he was doing the right thing.

“Well then let’s get dialing.” He rubbed his hands together and looked around for a phone.

“We don’t have a phone, if that’s what you’re looking for.= 221; Dylan was suddenly deflated and slightly embarrassed, he could tell.

“Well I’ll just pop over to my place, order and come right back. Okay?̶= 1;

“Okay.” Dylan turned on the TV.

Johnny purposely ordered two large pizzas so there would be leftovers. They watched every cartoon Superman video in the box before Dylan started to doze off. Johnny desperately wanted to give the kid a bath but decided not to. He was surprised with himself for even thinking that way.

When he was sure Dylan was asleep, he started snooping around. Quietly, he opened the closet door. Empty booze bottles covered the floor. An old broom wedged= in the corner. A stack of Playboy magazines filled= one shelf, and a box full of papers sat on another.

Dylan’s bedroom was depressing. An old stained mattress on the floor with no sheets= , a pillow with no case, and an old comforter bunched up to one side. Above the= bed was a torn Superman poster, pinned up only as high as Dylan could reach. A couple of comic books and a lamp were the only things on a small wood stand that stood beside the mattress.

In the closet he found two t-shirts on hangers and some other clothes in a sma= ll laundry basket on the floor. Johnny went back into the living room. He pick= ed Dylan up off the couch and carried him to his mattress. Leaving him in his clothes, he pulled the shabby comforter over the boy. Dylan slept through it all. Probably one of the few times the kid would get decent night’s sleep, Johnny thought. No empty stomach, no drunk to deal with and no pain = to endure, for a change.

Back at his apartment Johnny grabbed a cold beer and pressed play on his answeri= ng machine. The digital lady’s voice told him he had four new messages. = They were all from Becky of course. First she was wondering what he was up to tonight. Then she said she needed him to call her right away. That led to h= er accusing him of being out with another woman. It was all wrapped up with her crying and asking him to please call her. Johnny walked away from the phone, looked out the window and shook his head. Christ! That girl had to go.=

No sooner had he taken his first swig of beer when there was a knock on the do= or. What? Please don’t let it be her. Of course it was. Dressed as if she worked on a street corner at night, Becky sauntered into the apartment. He = said nothing. He saw that wild look in her eyes, so he stood there, still drinki= ng his beer. He knew what would happen next, and he wasn’t going to obje= ct. He also knew that this time was the last time. She began to rub herself all over him, undressing in the process.

“You’re going to like this,” she whispered in his ear.

He was paying more attention to his beer can than her but she didn’t see= m to care. She unbuttoned his pants, slowly slid his boxers down, and then made = her way down, onto her knees in front of him.

“I know you love me, Johnny Farrell.”

Oh man, he knew he was going to pay for this eventually, but he figured what t= he hell. He took one last swig of beer, and let her go to work.