2010-02-11: Boys Don't Cry



Date: February 11, 2010


Trent is in the park. Jo is mean… eventually.

"Boy's Don't Cry"

Central Park — NYC

The park is beautiful today, even with the snow. And for once, Jo's in the park not on business, in fact, she's in the park for the quiet — the time away. That first time she'd seen Teddy in New York it was in this park. He ran. They always ran. And, unfortunately, he'd lost her. One day she'll catch him though. If she ever finds him again.

Regardless, she shoves some money towards a legitimate hot dog vendor before dousing the frank in ketchup, mustard, and relish. She issues the vendor a small smile, "Thanks. I haven't had one of these in ages…"

Another out enjoying the park, when he should probably be in school with the rest of the children his age, is Trent, a homeless boy, run away. Well bundled ad even got newspaper in his coat and stuff for extra unsulation. He's sitting on one of the swings, but instead of playing, swinging. He's just idely sitting there swaying a little. Looking at the ground.. a bit down by the look of things. After a bit though, he rises and twists the swing up as high as he can reach and as many times as he possibly can, before slipping it over him the seat under his belly. He then lifts his feet, and as he swings, the swing untwines. He's spinning. His stocking cap flying off his head. Though it is fun, he is quiet.

Before she can take a bite of her hot dog, Trent's stocking cap flies in front of Jo. With a kind of odd half-smile she bends down and picks it up before glancing around the park for who it could belong to. Finally, spying Trent and deciding he's the most likely owner, she narrows her eyes and pads over towards the wing, "Hey, half-pint, is this yours?" She holds the hat up in the air as she examines him carefully.

Trent's swing soon stops and he hears someone talking to him, but now he's so dizzy he can't respond right away. When he stands up, he falls down. Closing his eyes and shaking his head to clear the dizzyness away. Once it's clear, he looks to where he heard the voice. "Um.. I.. Yes m'am. It fell off. But I couldn't stop the swing till it was ready, to get it." At least he has nothing on his stomach, otherwise he'd lose it all. Being hungry, and dizzy has him extra dizzy, so he's unable to stand up or run or anything he'd usually be doing right now. He eyes the hot dog, but he is not a thief, so it's just a momentary glance.

"Look half-pint, the hat's a little more important than the swing," Jo says with half-smirk. She peers at him curiously before stepping forward to hand him the hat. "Shouldn't you be in school, boy? No one else is here." She eyes the park; there really isn't a kid to be seen other than Trent. She catches the glance at the hot dog and tilts her head, but doesn't comment. "What are you doing in the park this time of day? A kid needs to go to school; that's their job. Their duty."

Trent takes the hat and stuffs it on his head. "Haven't been in a long time m'am." though she's really getting into areas, he's been trying to avoid. He is soon on his feet and trying to back up, not getting too close, should she try to grab for him. "I like it here, when I'm in this part of town I always come here to play." At the last, he shrugs, "Maybe m'am, but it's not very useful when you're living on the streets."

And there is the truth. Finally glancing down at her hot dog, Jo's more selfish parts are pushed aside as she offers, "Are you hungry? I can get another…" she motions towards the vendor. "Or you can have this one. I can get another later. Or something else. I really shouldn't be eating this stuff anyways, it's not going to help my muscle mass." Like the kid cares. Regardless she shrugs at him.

Trent eyes the hot dog again, and all the condements on it, he hesitates then nods, but instead of moving forward to get it he steps a bit further back. Thinking it possibly a trap. "I haven't eaten in a couple days." he says softly. His blue eyes going between the woman and the hot dog. Finally he asks though, "You're not going to try anything, are you?"

"Try anything?" Jo asks incredulously. Oh right. Kids and strangers. And in all honesty, most of her ploys to catch evolveds involve some kind of gimmick, but this isn't a gimmick today. Trent isn't on her list, he's just a kid in the park who lost his hat. "Look, I can take a bite if it makes you feel better… look it's not a trap. It's a hot dog. I can buy you your own…"

Trent shrugs, "I just worry that you might make me go to the cops or something. I would like a hot dog, thank you." he says softly. He idely reaches back and pulls the hood u was well. "I meant nothing bad by it, people keep trying to get me to go to the cops or something. I'm nt a bad boy. I don't steal things or anything. I just try to survive."

"I won't make you go to the cops," Jo says, "Although, I wonder where your parents are. What are you doing out here alone? New York City isn't a kind place for a half-pint…" She glances around the park for potential parents. "Maybe people want you to see the police so they can get you a home. Can't be easy to live out here alone…"

At the mention of parents, Trent falls quiet, he swallows and says, "Th.. their dead m'am." there is no lie in his eyes, just sadness in their depths. He turns his back to her, so she can't see him now. "I have no place to go.." he says, his voice wavering.. "It's not easy, but it's better then my psycho Aunt's and better then an orphanage."

And then there's something more that tugs at the marine's heart. Her lips curl into a small smile, "It's okay to be sad about it, half-pint. You just need to find a way to go on." She hands him the hot dog before motioning towards a bench to sit on. "So… is your aunt actually psycho? I don't like all of my relatives, but they're not all crazy."

Trent takes the hot dog, "Th.. thank you m'am." he says softly. Following her to the bench. He curls up on it. "Well, she just.. I was brought there when I was six, after they left. She never understood me. I have ADHD, very mild. If I remember that correct. And she couldn't handle me. I didn't even act up that bad. I was always so quiet, and to myself. But when I did, she just couldn't handle it. She was always gone. She was always yelling at me. She didn't even want me. I don't have anymore family." He takes a bite of the hotdog, getting a gob of mustard on his nose. That he idely wipes away with his coat sleeve. "It's not my fault I was given to her. It's not my failt that truc it mom and dad. It's not my fault I was made to come here to new york. But being on the street is better then living with her."

Jo purses her lips together. One of her brothers had ADHD; she's familiar with it. "Is your aunt looking for you? How long have you been gone?" She bites one of her fingernails. The conversation is leaving her mildly unsettled. "Have you tried talking to a social worker or someone who could help you figure out where to go?"

"I've been out here for three years, if she is looking for me, I don't know and I don't even care. I don't want her." He shakes his head, "No, I haven't. They'd just make me go back, or cause I ran away send me to juvie, I don't want to go back and I'm not bad. I just don't want her anymore. She's mean, mom would be mad at her if she knew her sister was so mean to me. I never met her, before I came to New York." He continues to eat, wiping at his face occasionally. Sometimes to wipe away a condement, sometimes to wipe away tears. He usually tries to stay clean, but the combination is smearing over his face. "I wish mom and dad were still here."

His mom and dad are gone, that's unsettling.

In this moment with the dead parents, tears, and the ADHD something happens. He looks freakishly like Teddy.

Jo twitches, quite visibly before she gets up and switches into her suppressed-anger-emotionless mode that keeps her professional and still on-the-job. She scowls at the kid before standing to her feet. "No tears. Tears are for girls." She still hasn't cried for her parents, and she vows she never will. "And if you want your life to improve go to the police like a normal person. Institutions and government are here to protect citizens." She tilts her head and inspects the boy. "Get yourself together, soldier."

Trent looks up at Jo and frowns, "I am a normal person, I'm just scared." his eyes spilling over more. "You just don't understand. I miss them every day." He sets the hot dog aside, that's mostly gone.. and he's on his feet, no longer dizzy, he just turns and runs. Not realizing something fell out of his coat pocket in his haste to rise. It first slips to the bench, then between the slats and to the ground. A pocket watch, that was his father's.

"Kid you forgot your —" But he's gone. And Jo isn't in the habit of traipsing after children. She reaches down and picks up the pocket watch which she frowns at before pocketing it for now. Maybe she'll see the kid again and discuss the merits of having a stiff upper lip. With a sigh she speaks to herself in a muttered whisper, "Why am I always the one to cut the bitches?" With a headshake she continues down her path, homeward bound.

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