October
Wednesday 7 March 2012 photo 3/4
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Så jag har visst en massa fina bilder märker jag!
It all started in a very un-exciting fashion.
I, the one you'll all get to know as Ciar, had gotten myself a new phone. Though I guess I'll also have to add that the phone hadn't been sold, no, I stole it.
I'm usually a theif who doesn't get caught, but that day a pair of NYFIKNA eyes had spotted me. I found that out when I exited the store with my new phone, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me across the street.
He – for it was indeed a male person – had bushy hair and was taller than me, though my first thought – OH MY GOD SOMEONE'S GONNA' KILL ME – seemed to have been an overreaction. He actually seemed friendly.
"Nice work", he said, sounding calm and reassuring. I just stared at him suspiciously, wondering what the hell made him start talking to me. Because.. you don't just go up to someone and praise their stealing-abilities.
He raised his right hand, as if he wanted to shake mine, and said: "I'm Dalton. Some people call me the Laughing Filly, or Filly for short."
I shook his hand, slowly. "I'm Ciar. Mind telling me why you've just dragged me across the street?"
"Actually I just wanted some privacy. If I could spot your little thiefery, anyone else could too... right? He laughed, and it would have given my confidence a real blow if the laughter itself hadn't been .. what it was. It sounded like a neighing.
Which, of course, explained the interesting nickname of his.
"Oh, so you're some sort of stealing God?" I said TRUMPET , I didn't like to get criticised.
"No, it's just that.. I'm in this kind of thing, it's like a gang of theives but not really. I mean, we don't fight other gangs, we just hang out and help each other. Safety in numbers, and of course, the more people the bigger the catch." With a smile, he added: “I thought you might be interested?"
That's basically what happened. My first meeting with Filly.
I said I was interested, though the only thought going through my head at that point was 'What if they're like, criminals?'. Somehow my brain didn't classify myself as a one.
Anyway, what happened was, Filly and I got on a bus. We got off at east 125th, at which Filly led me into an apartment building and up two stairs. He knocked on the door, me standing behind him like an awkward balloon ready to float – run – away if necessary.
A big, black guy opened the door. He looked friendly, making my anxiousness go away a little. Though I wondered who he was, maybe the leader of their thing-kind-of-gang.
“Dalton", the man said.
“Mr. Yarrow." Filly smiled.
“Here to see Aaron?"
“No, Alaska... is he here?" At this point, I was too confused to even try to understand the situation. Filly was apparently looking for someone who might not be there. How would we continue if this Alaska wasn't around?
“Yeah, he's in Aaron's room", Mr. Yarrow said. I secretly gave away a sigh of relief, it had been awkward enough the first time, I didn't want to go on a bus trip with Filly again.
Then I heard: “You brought a friend?" When I looked up at Mr. Yarrow, I found him looking at me. He had kind eyes, but I was a weird kid and thought it was scary. I guess I had a problem with adults.
“Yeah, this is Ciar", Filly said. Then he ended the conversation by dragging me into a narrow hallway. I heard music coming from behind a closed door, but before I could reflect more upon that, Filly had opened that same door and pushed me inside.
It was dark. Not dark as in pitch-black, but MÄRKBART darker than that hallway earlier. I realized the reason why was that the blinds were closed.
The room was full of magazines, and from what I could make out, there were mostly comic books. On a lonely little bed sat a black boy with fluffy hair, reading Spiderman, and on the floor lay another boy, also reading a comic book.
“Hi Alaska!" Filly shouted while entering behind Ciar.
The boy lying on the floor put down looked up, showing a pair of pilot glasses sucessfully hiding half his face. “Good to finally see you again, Filly", he said. “What have you been up to? Not coming to see me, you're a fucking horrible person."
“I went to your place looking for you", Filly said to his defense.
“There's no water or electricity, no one pays for it, you know. Compared to that, It's place is heaven."
I felt lost. And awkward. Thank you, Dalton. You showed up and dragged me to a place where nobody even notice me.
Filly started saying something, but the boy interrupted him, as he had apparently finally noticed me standing there like – once again – a balloon. This time a balloon who's stuck to the ground incapable of moving anywhere. “You're new. Hmm.. I'm Alaska, nice to meet you."
As he was obviously waiting for me to say something as well, I blurted out: “Hi, I'm Ciar."
“So, where did Filly find you?" He sounded like Filly picked up random strangers every now and then, which didn't really make me feel special.
“I stole a phone and he saw me", I said NONCHALANT.
Filly moved from where he was standing, next-to-me-but-almost-behind-ish and sat down next to Alaska.
“Well, make yourself at home... have a magazine or whatever..." Alaska was interrupted when the door opened and Mr. Yarrow from earlier popped his head in, smiling. I sat down quietly, didn't want to stand around being an awkward balloon anymore.
“Aaron, I'm going over to Liza's house. I'll be late.. there's food in the fridge." Mr. Yarrow turned his head towards the half-laying Alaska on the floor. “Staying over night?"
“Nah, I'm going home. Can't leave the place too long without it getting invaded by fucking ants.."
“Don't swear", Mr. Yarrow said firmly, then closed the door. You could hear him walking through the hallway and out of the apartment.
My attention had now found a new subject of interest: the silent boy on the bed. He was obviously the Aaron who'd been mentioned a few times, and it was his room. I found it strange that Alaska was the one to boss around like he owned the place.
“You gonna' eat that food, It?" Alaska asked, his gaze set upon the boy, Aaron. I used my deduction and came to the conclusion that It was Aaron's nickname.
“Yeah Alaska, leave it", the boy answered. I was glad to finally hear his voice.
Alaska frowned and looked down at his forgotten comic book, when I chose to speak up again: “So what's up with all the nicknames?"
This happened to be the big-interruption-day, though. When I'd just finished my sentence, the door started opening slowly.
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