The little Mexican Cantina smelled as heavenly as it always had. Len walked in with her two canes and slowly made her way to the counter. The sweet littel old lady that ran the place came to the counter and talked to Len in Spanish. Len could understand the bulk of it, though she couldn't speak it. It was something she had never fully understood, she could often understand whe people wanted to convey. It's on part because of her empathy.

The old woman was being sympathetic over how bad Len looked. Len went ahead and ordered by the numbers. She'd always gotten the same two things here. The woman always waited though, as if to be sure Len would get the usual. Once she's ordered the old woman started cooking and Len sat. The numbers she normaly would have been given were skipped, there was no one else in here yet.

It’s been several days now since that horrible day at Greg’s house. He will /never/ forget that horrible day. However, he’s slowly started venturing out and about a little at a time. The first couple of days, he didn’t leave Sin’s dorm room at all. He was scared to bits that he was going to be found not only by the girl, Ally, but by social services or some crap like that. He was /not/ going to let himself be taken away and shoved in foster homes. He’s heard horror stories about those types of places. Nope. Not going to be making him go there.

That morning, he’d told Sin that he was going to go out and about or something that day. Something to try to clear his head. He said he’d probably stop by the little Mexican place. The place had felt so homey when he’d been there that he wanted to go back. Even though the little old lady had pinched his cheeks and kissed his forehead. He just really liked being there. It was nice to be able to speak the language that he was most fluent with and have his words understood and spoken back to him in return. Sin had given him directions to the place as well as a few bucks so that he could actually get himself something. Blade had insisted that he would pay Sin back some way for everything he’d been doing for Blade.

Today, he’s wearing a pair of baggy jean shorts and a dark red t-shirt. Dark red sneakers were on his feet. He’d put his drawing supplies in his backpack along with his last sketch pad that only had two pages left to go in it and headed out. He followed the directions Sin had given him to the little Mexican place and eagerly went inside. A grin was on his face as he walked over to the counter. “Buena tarde, ma'am,” he said to the old woman. “Quisiera la misma cosa que tenía cuando estaba adentro aquí antes de por favor.”


((Buena tarde, ma'am = Good afternoon, ma’am
Quisiera la misma cosa que tenía cuando estaba adentro aquí antes de por favor. = I would like the same thing I had when I was in here before please.))

The old woman's smile widens. She does remember him. She starts to fix his food.
She asked him where his little friend was. Chatted with him while she cooked. She broke away only long enough to carry a tray to the lone woman sitting in the corner. The woman seemed to be doodling in a pocket sketch book.

Blade seemed quite happy and eager to talk to the old woman. He stayed up at the counter the entire time she cooked just so he could talk to her. He misses being able to speak his fluent language so much. English is okay but it’s not what he was taught first.

“El pecado está en clase. Él va a las clases en la universidad. Vidas allí, también. Es realmente aseada,” he tells her. “Él es tan elegante. Niza también. Estoy alegre él soy mi amigo. Le me están ayudando aprende cómo leer incluso.”


((El pecado está en clase. Él va a las clases en la universidad. Vidas allí, también. Es realmente aseada. = Sin is in class. He goes to classes at the college. Lives there, too. It's really neat.

Él es tan elegante. Niza también. Estoy alegre él soy mi amigo. Le me están ayudando aprende cómo leer incluso. = He's so smart. Nice too. I'm glad he's my friend. He's been helping me learn how to read even.))

The old woman talks to him seeming equally pleased to have someone to talk to. When his food was cooked she gave him his tray at the counter. Just as she did the place began to fill up as group of construction workers piled in for lunch.

“¡Gracias mucho! ¡Soy seguro que esto va a probar apenas tan maravilloso como lo hizo la primera vez!” he told her enthusiastically and took his tray after paying.

He glanced around the place briefly before picking a corner table that had natural light coming in from the window next to the table. He set his tray down and sat himself down. He opened his backpack that he had set down on the seat next to him and took out his sketch pad and drawing pencils.

He sets his sketch pad on the table and starts to think of what he wants to draw while he’s eating. After he’s about half way done with his lunch, he finally decides what he’s going to draw. And he begins. He’s probably going to be here for a while because he wants to get as much as he can of the outline done. He’s decided that he’s going to draw the little old Mexican lady cooking.


((¡Gracias mucho! ¡Soy seguro que esto va a probar apenas tan maravilloso como lo hizo la primera vez! = Thank you very much! I'm sure this is going to taste just as wonderful as it did the first time!

One of the construction workers sits down and starts to get sassy with Len. She really is trying to ignore him. When he takes her pad though she''s had enough and she pokes him in the chest with her cane. He doesn't seem to care though. He's not listening to anything she says, but she is speaking English. He's saying very inappropriate things to the tiny injured woman in Spanish. The little old lady tells him he should leave. He tells her to make him.

Blade looks up from his own drawing as he hears a commotion starting. Okay. Everyone is probably thinking, what the hell is a thirteen year old kid going to do? Have you all forgotten that this is Blade we’re talking about here? I think you have. He gets up from where he’s sitting and strides over to where the guy is harassing the lady and getting smart with the nice old woman.

“¿Es usted señor sordo? ¿Usted no oyó a señora? Ella dijo irse,” he says to the guy. “Usted necesita irse. Ahora. Antes de usted lamente el no hacer tan mientras que usted tiene una ocasión.”


((¿Es usted señor sordo? ¿Usted no oyó a señora? Ella dijo irse. = Are you deaf mister? Didn't you hear the lady? She said to leave.

Usted necesita irse. Ahora. Antes de usted lamente el no hacer tan mientras que usted tiene una ocasión. = You need to leave. Now. Before you regret not doing so while you have a chance.))

The worker ignored the boy as much as he'd ignored the two women.

Alrighty then. Ignoring Blade really isn’t the best thing to do at this moment mister worker man. Especially after the fucked up week that he’s had. He’s growing angry with each inappropriate word that escapes the workers mouth to the lady at the booth. He’s getting so angry, in fact, that he actually forgets to speak Spanish.

“What part of get away from the lady are you not getting buddy?” he snaps at the guy. The moment the words ‘get away from the lady’ escape from his mouth, the worker seems to suddenly fall out of the booth and away from it a bit. Almost as if someone had shoved him out of it. No one had touched him though. Nope. Not really. That strange feeling that had come over Blade when he had broke the window at Greg’s had come over him right now.

The worker stood up and was yelling his head off. Len had the foresight to bop him on the head with one of her canes. "I really think you should go, you've been told in two languages now." she said. She was pushing off the feling of being unwanted and the feeling of wanting to get away. The man seemed bewieldered, as if he knew the emmotions were not his own. He turned to yell at Blade.

Oh buddy. I think you just made yourself a /huge/ mistake by turning to yell at Blade. A big mistake indeed. You see, Blade doesn’t take very well to being yelled at in such a manner. No. Not at all. I would feel sorry for you, but you brought this on yourself. Really you did. You have been warned mister worker. You see, you not only picked the wrong day to go trying to mess with someone who doesn’t want your attention, but you interrupted Blade from his drawing. He doesn’t take very kindly to that at all. Not after what happened several days ago at Greg’s house.

Blade reached into his back pocket and whipped out what looked like a mere piece of metal. However, after moving his hand quickly, it would become quite apparent that the piece of metal is a butterfly knife (clickie here for those of you who don’t know what a butterfly knife is). The handle is dark red and matches his shoes quite well actually. He starts to advance towards the man.

“Mueva su asno. Salga de este edificio. Ahora,” he snaps at the guy. The moment the words leave his mouth, the man suddenly goes backwards towards the door as if someone is shoving him. The man isn’t moving on his own. And no one is touching him either. “Salga. ¡cAhora!”


((Mueva su asno. Salga de este edificio. Ahora. = Move your ass. Get out of this building. Right now.

Salga. ¡cAhora! = Get out. NOW!))

Though the man leaves and not of his own free will, once out side hs does not come back. He has no wish to revisit that strangeness, ever.

Everyone goes back to their lunch. Except Len who was done any way. "What on earth are you doing carrying around a knife like that, please don't tell me it's to sharpen pencils." She says quietly. She had seen the boy quietly drawing, sensed his calmness and ease with the old woman. While she was glad he'd made the worker leave, the knife made him seem to be a very contrary soul.

Good. And good riddance. He’s not wanted here. People like him shouldn’t be allowed to walk the streets. Asshole. Disrespecting a lady and an elderly woman. That’s not right. Not right at all. Yes. Blade knows right from wrong. Even growing up and hanging out on the streets with the gang, he knows what that man did was just wrong.

Blade turns and starts to walk back towards the booth he’d been sitting in eating his lunch and drawing. Wait. He’s being talked to. He pauses and turns towards the lady. “What’s it to ya?” he asks. “Ain’t really no ones business but mine why I gots it.” Blade seems to have suddenly gone into defensive mode. “Assholes like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk the streets.”

"What's it to me, forgive me if I'm leery of teenaged boys with knives who at first seem rather harmless, that's how I wound up like this." Len says.

Blade rolled his eyes. “Mujer tonta. Desemejante de alguno, no circundo atacar y lastimar a gente inocente,” he tells her not knowing if she knows Spanish or not. “Está debido a assholes como aquél, de que que llevo esto.”

((Mujer tonta. Desemejante de alguno, no circundo atacar y lastimar a gente inocente. = Silly woman. Unlike some, I do not go around attacking and hurting innocent people.

Está debido a assholes como aquél, de que que llevo esto. = It is because of assholes like that one, that I carry this.))

"I only follow part of what you're saying, can you humor me with English? " Len says. She really does look bad, like someone tried to whittler her fre of her skin actually. She shouldn't have lived.

Great. The woman doesn’t speak Spanish. Back to talking in English again. “I said...” he began. “Silly woman. Unlike some, I don’t go around attackin’ and hurtin’ innocent people. It’s cause of assholes like that one that I carry this.”

"MMmmm all I got was the silly part and that he was an asshole on my own." Len said. "What are you doing on your own any way, isn't school in?" she asked. Truthfully she has lost track of time, her injuries even now that she's out of the hospital keep her in enough discomfort it's hard to focus. Her unfinished doodles reflect this.

“I ain’t gotta go to no school,” he says with a bit of defiance in his voice. “Ain’t no one makin’ me either.” Alrighty then. There goes any trace of manners the boy has.

"I see." Len says slowly standing. She is getting ready to go. She sees no sign of the construction worker outside. She puts her sketchbook in the pocket of her shorts and leans on her canes to walk. "Be nice open the doo for me please?" she says.

"Good bye Mrs. Sanchez." she says as she nears the door. The little old woman waves.

“Hang on,” he tells her and heads over to his table. He puts his stuff back into his backpack, then takes his tray to go dump it. He goes back to the lady’s table and does the same with her tray. “I’ll walk ya out. Gotta make sure that asshole isn’t gonna come back.”

He glances towards the little old woman. “Adiós. ¡Gracias mucho por el almuerzo maravilloso!” he tells her with a smile. He heads over to the door and opens it for the lady.


((Adiós. ¡Gracias mucho por el almuerzo maravilloso! = Good-bye. Thank you very much for the wonderful lunch!))

Len's volkswagon is right near the curb. For the time being she has one of those handicapped parking tags. Teh ca is red except for where Len has painted flowers, peace signs and othe psychadelic grooviness all over it. "You need a lift anyplace?" she asks. Seh probably shouldn't be nice to boys with weapons, but in spite of his tude, he does not exude the same "Vibe" that "Raven" had.

He shrugs slightly. “Ain’t got no where to go right now. My friend is in class,” he says. “I dunno where anything is except for here, the bookstore and my friends dorm room where I’ve been stayin’ for the moment.”

"You're staying in a dorm and you don't go to school, where the heck are your folks?" she asks leaning against her car.

“I take care of myself,” he says and puffs out his chest a little.

"If that were true you wouldn't be in a friend's dorm room, where you could possibly get him into trouble. What happened?" she asked.

“I ain’t gonna be there for long. I already know that he could get in trouble. I ain’t dumb,” he said with that defiant tone in his voice again. “I just gotta figure out what the hell I’m gonna do.”

"You have no where to go? Am I hearing that right?" Len asks tiredly.

He shrugged slightly. "I can take care of myself. I ain't been needin' no one to do so for me for quite a while now lady."

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that." she finally says. Exasperating, but those that refuse to help themselves cannot be helped. She unlocks her car and with slow and deliberate care climbs into it.

He frowns. Deeply. And moves towards her car door. "What's that supposed to mean?" he says as he stands there holding her door open while she climbs in.

"Listen, you obviously have no plan, and nowhere to go, but you don't need anyone....wonder how long you'll have no plan and no where to go, it's hard to get anything done all alone." She says pulling her canes in the car.

He seemed to slump slightly against the open car door as he listened to her talking. "I've always managed..." he says in a very much less defiant tone. What's the rest of his sentence that he's not finished? Till now... he finishes in his head.

"You don't look too sure of yourself right now. You're too young to get a job, if you find one and get caught social services will take you into custody or it'll be a shitty job, like selling your ass or peddaling drugs. You really wanna live that way?" Len asks.

"Them asswipes ain't gonna ever get their grubby mitts on me," he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes the moment she mentioned social services. "I ain't gonna have to sell my ass or peddle drugs. I gots this..." He reaches into his bag and pulls out his sketch pad. He flips it open to the most recent picture he's done. It's an ocean scene with part of an ocra coming up out of the water. The detail in the picture is enough to make it seem so very real and take your breath away from the sheer beauty of it. He'd even actually taken the time to color this one in.

Len lifts her eye brows appreciatively. "And how will this keep you off the streets? How do you intend to make a living from this, again, it's hard for children to work, since it's not legal. You should be in a school somewhere developing yoour talents. How will you promote your art young man, find buyers? Or do you plan to sit out on a corner in plain view of the authorities and try to get pedestians to buy sketches?" It might work for a little while.....but then what?" She asked her eyes looking up to search his.

He shrugs slightly and puts his sketch pad back into his backpack. "It would work long enough," he says sounding not too sure of himself anymore. "Long enough for what I need it to." Long enough for me to try to find my dad...

Yeah Blade your dad is such a swell guy, he locked you in a dark room with rats, killed your half-brother's mom, and tortured your hald sister for more than 20 years.....you sure you wanna find him?


"Long enough for what now, hmm I didn't quite hear the rest of your plan." Len said.

Yes but Blade does not know these things. He really doesn't. And right now, it's all he's clinging to. In his mind, his dad is all he's got. That is, if he can ever find him. He knows nothing about the man. Nothing at all.

"Long enough to find what brought me here in the first place," he says. "I gotta find someone."