RENEGADES

Chapter Five

I woke up to the bright morning sun shining in my face. I blinked a few times, trying to regain focus. Where was I?

I looked down at the lady's shawl that was wrapped around my middle. Oh yeah. I was on the edge of Manhattan. Last night I had run away.

Shoot. I really had run away. My dad was going to be furious. He'd probably hit me a few times when I got home. Then he'd yell at me for being a stupid kid. But I didn't care. I'd much rather have my father hit me than those wretched Roaches. I don't know why. I just couldn't stand getting beaten up by them. A couple of times when Thomas would get in a fight with one of the Roaches, Siggy and I would join in. But they didn't play fair. The Roaches were cruel, they fought without mercy and often pulled out weapons to make matters worse. I hated them.

I sighed and stood up. I walked over to the washing line and hung up the clothes I had borrowed. I don't think it was the same washing line. Whatever. The neighbors would figure out eventually. I walked down the emergency stairs and came out of the alley. I began to recognize street names. I smiled at the pedestrians I passed and made my way back to my neighborhood.

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"Hey, Andy Dandy!" Siggy was waiting for me right outside my apartment.

"Hi, Siggy," I ruffled the younger boy's dark curls. He tossed my arm aside.

"Where you been all night? I was waiting for you to come out of your house but you was always out here."

"Yeah, I had to run away. The Roaches were after me last night," I told him. I shuddered to think about their yelps and howls when they were on my tail.

"Gee, when? You know Thomas and I would've helped you out," my friend put his arm around me.

"It was after I walked Marielle home. I didn't want to go home so I walked to the park. They saw me and chased me..." I didn't finish.

"You're not hurt, are ya?" Siggy looked me up and down as if he was searching for a wound.

"Nah, Siggs I'm fine. I'm gonna go eat something now," I broke away from Siggy and opened the door to my apartment building. My hands were getting sweaty because I knew what was coming. My father would yell and curse me maybe even hit me. I would just have to tell him the truth. I was being chased and had to get away.

My dirty dress shoes found their way up the stairs and into apartment two. I carefully closed the door behind me and waited for my dad to come out of the bedroom and start yelling at me. I waited. One minute, then two. Nothing happened.

I walked into the dark gloomy bedroom. I saw my father's clothes tossed aside on the floor. The smell of smoke came in from the window. But he wasn't here. My father wasn't here.

I assumed he would have waited for me to come home and then yell at me. He must have gone to work early. Did he forget about me? Perhaps he figured I was old enough to find my way home. Even though I was dreading him being here, part of me expected him to be a parent and wait for me to come home. That's what he always had done.

I told myself I shouldn't be disappointed. I shouldn't feel this way. My father was never a good father. But I was still upset.

I stomped into the tiny kitchen and grabbed a few eggs from the refrigerator. Our kitchen was small, we just had a tiny fridge and a small stove with a cabinet. I dug around the cabinet that had a lot of random stuff in it. Utensils, tools, canned food, and other odds and ends. I unearthed the one frying pan we had. As I cracked the eggs, I looked at the pan and thought of Marielle. She was abused, even worse than I was. She didn't deserve it. I prayed that she didn't get in any trouble on account of me.