PeaceHood

Chapter 2: Calling Ben

Finding some loser to adopt me is hard for Satan, especially when I am now aware about my surroundings. After exposing the Harrisburgs' most deadliest secrets, many foster families are afraid of me.

So far, I broke up a lot of marriages, called out rapists, drug addicts, cheaters, and alcoholics. I continued living in Ms. Caroline's shadow until someone has the guts to adopt me.

"I don't understand you at all, Seth." she sighed as she poured coffee.

Satan and I are in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for ourselves. While Satan prefers coffee, I preferred Lucky Charms.

"What don't you understand?" I asked. "The fact that I broke up forty-two marriages, or the fact that I am stuck with a horrendous woman?"

"It's no wonder why you're single."

Ms. Caroline rolled her eyes at my insult and sipped her coffee. Despite her hatred of children, her taste in houses aren't bad. Her decor wall had red bricks, as well as a classy furniture that she bought online.

Glass tables, fancy bear rugs, and incredible furniture stood firmly against the wooden floor. The kitchen looked almost as if Ms. Caroline stole it from IKEA.

White tiles stuck across the gray wall as silver kitchen ware hung above the stove. The cupboards were painted in a black color while the pantry is orange.

I quickly finished my cereal and placed the bowl in the sink.

"I'm going to school," I announced. Ms. Caroline nodded sluggishly as I took my small backpack,  snatch my red skateboard, and head out the door.

I take my time rushing downstairs and pulling out Cleo's old IPod: the device had a white protective covering around it.

The dark screen had a cool touch, a couple of buttons, and a happy emoji sticker on the back.

Turning the IPod on, I stuffed buds into ears and set the skateboard in front of me.

I placed my right foot on the surface of the board and picked up speed with my left. The song Above the Clouds pounded in my ears.

In the beginning, I heard John F. Kennedy speaking something poetic, but I couldn't make out the words.

According to Cleo, she chose this song because she enjoyed the scratches and melody. It reminds her of her hometown in Japan.

One summer, Ben and I went with her in Japan, where she introduced me to hip-hop, jazz, and occasional rap. We would spend most of our days messing with people's social media and cars; until Ben tells us to stop.

As much as he hates being a foster kid, he hates me doing stupid things, especially hacking into software. I gritted my teeth as I glided my skateboard around busy people. 

While I skated, I notice homeless African-American kids huddling close to each other like penguins. They had stringy dark hair, dirt on their faces, and ripped clothing.

One of the kids noticed me staring and grinned. He is smaller than the others, he wore a yellow dirty t-shirt, ripped jeans, and white sneakers. 

 "Hey guys," he called to his friends. "It's Seth!"

 His friends stopped moping and saw me walking towards them. 

"Hi," I greeted, unzipping my bag. 

Instead of school textbooks, there were clothes, sneakers, and some goodies. 

The little boy smiled even wider when I gave him my old teddy bear. 

He hugged it very tightly, but gave me a curious look. 

"Are you sure you don't want it?" he asked. 

I shook my head no. 

"You need it more than I do," I insisted. 

As soon as I gave the kid the bear, I handed his friends the rest of the supplies. 

A young girl named Tasha kissed my cheek and thanked me for the sneakers. 

"Yo, Seth." greeted a tall African-American kid. He had a green sweater, jeans, and sandals.

"Hey John," I greeted, trading fist bumps with him. "How's the family?"

John let out a sigh. "You know how they are, man." 

While John's father disappeared, his overprotective mother and his five brothers are the center of his life. But there are times he would leave his home to take care of the street kids.

"Adults," I moaned. 

John nodded along with me. 

"Anyways," I sighed, zipping my bag back up. "I have to get going."

"Aww," whined the kids. 

"Couldn't you stay for awhile?" Tasha pleaded. 

Tasha is one of the homeless children I see lingering around alleys and abandoned shelters. She had two dark pigtails, wears a pink dress, and matching sandals.

John once teases that she has a huge crush on me. 

"I can't," I explained. "But, I will be back. Okay?"

"What are you, The Terminator?" John snorted. 

I took off with my skateboard and steered the sidewalk to find a payphone. It would be nice to call on your own phone, but since I didn't have any money, I search for another way to call Ben.

I notice a group of women, who just walked out of a hair salon. All three of them wore dark business dresses, but very poofy hair. 

As I steered around the women, one of the ladies glared at me.

Watch it, creep!" one of them shouted. 

"Sorry," I shouted back.

I know you think I am going to school, but to be honest, I am not. It's just something I say to Satan to get off of my back.

I kept moving until I found a payphone in front of a barber shop.

The device had a smooth metal finish around the phone as a dark stick made its home on the white concrete.

As I came closer, I got rid of my ear buds, slipped my pocketed quarter into the slot, and dialed Ben's number.

Later, I pick the phone out of its holder and waited for Ben to answer it.

"Hey," said an English voice.

It's Ben, sounding tired and annoyed.

"Hi, Luke." I greeted. "How are things?"

"Other than the fact that I am homesick," he sighed. "San Francisco is nice. I met a girl there."

I rose my eyebrow in surprise: Ben never mention a girl before.

"Who's the hottie?" I asked.

Ben let out an exhausting sigh, telling me not to say that to girls.

"It's sexist, Seth." Ben complained.

"Who's the hottie?" I repeated.

"She goes by the name, Cole Porter." he replied.