j 2.3

By Asa Montreaux 

We didn’t hear from the gang for a few days, just your their very eager to get to know you leader. He was not so friendly. As we carried out our day, halfway through the gangster man stood out there, with his arms crossed, listening to everything. Occasionally commenting on things, saying why had you said that, or why had you done that, one of the first times we’d all been acutely aware of someone trying to map our behaviors through walls, from outside. After a while, and each and every day, you’d hear the same threats. You’re dead! He’d say. 

And he wasn’t that anyone that went away. My father would say, hey what are you doing out there, would you go away? And he wouldn’t respond, as if he hadn’t heard you at all. Then he’d repeat the question, in the same way. And then the man would say, Nah! I stay here. I need kids. I need Andrew. The most! 

There were not many reasons he could give for this, not many good reason. But look, it was this kid with telekinesis. Maybe I could help him win wars or steal money. But that wasn’t right. And that could land someone in jail, even if they had telekinesis. He didn’t mind going to jail probably, but it was nothing we were interested in, in the least.

Over the next few weeks, I just spent time with my family, just reading books with them. They’d just let me read everything aloud. And then we’d listen. Afterwards we would analyze some. The synopsis was only meant to make people laugh, and it was told by me. I suppose it was appropriate to laugh. It was fun to watch my parents laugh.

Sometimes I sat up even, and watched tv with my parents. We watched kids shows. They let me watch the news, even some dramas, though nothing with killing or sex, at that point. Often family member would come over, or at least more than just a few times, during those few weeks, and they’d hold me, and say it was a beautiful baby. I imagine it was. Other than that I was either sleeping or being breastfed. Although I could probably eat I had no teeth. You do obviously need the enzymes in that other thing too.

After those few weeks. Really after two weeks, the gang started filtering back. These kids. To be honest, they weren’t kids. I wasn’t going to tell you that until later. But they really weren’t. I had shrunk the whole gang before we got there. Otherwise they surely may have killed us. I don’t why I say may. That’s not necessarily grammatically incorrect, though it more usual to say would have. I’m not sure, later on. I’m not sure if they would have, now. 

As they did the fun times lessened and lessened and lessened. We went our rarely because, well, I was so small, you just don’t go out like that. And, we were conscientious of this gang we didn’t know at all, that could have been anywhere out there. In the house there was more safety.

And in a few weeks, all of the sudden they were back. It was some skinny guy that was exactly the same height. And it stood next to him with his arms crossed, in the same angry way they always crossed them. Impatient with someone just born, one would suppose. And the gang grew from there. They had a few more older members they were all there. The kids filtered in behind them. Though remind you, they were not kids.

And they fought terribly. And after that at first night, my father seemed to have got it. All of the sudden, he didn’t need help at all. He fought them day after day, and just convinced them to go away, almost like he compelled them to go away. But they had been out argued. Once or twice they fought against the whole streets protestations, and started to rush in. But my father rose his hands in the air, and held them back, in their heads maybe. They stopped in their tracks, and walked away. Sometimes the blinds were open, sometimes they couldn’t see us. And he saw with his head. But he never killed any of them. And for the first two years of my life, not on be of them even set foot inside. Except one guy, and I think my father did it on purpose. A tall skinny guy. Jamie.

He chose to say, what is it you need today?

He said, money.

My Dad said, We don’t need to talk about. And mimed like he made magic.

And the man suddenly said, okay, his arms still crossed, and walked away. It was hard to point what it was that happened, but the point actually was that he made the man think he was going to get money, without ever promising anything at all.

So I guess he had some knowledge of this man, or these men, already. From wherever. Maybe it was LA. Maybe he prescience. Wherever. He knew what the argument of the future was going to be, though wasn’t as far forward as he could see.

He always calmed someone had really text him that they were in a gang, and they killed everyone. And that it had really been someone he had known who in the gang. All that was true. It just wasn’t true he hadn’t known that he was in the gang. His friend who text him.

Really I think he suspected. He didn’t reach out to people, but he reached to this person. He did lightning investigations. He’d met the guy a week guy. He must have basically already known he was the gang. After a while, maybe two and a half years later, he told me. He was one of the only young guys. The Jamie’s only protect the secret. He knew the guy would spill because they could sympathize with each other. A young father was no one that needed to die. The gang would say, if you had not gotten the kid. You had to let it go. Or you got killed. 

The younger man said, he got away. Let it go. And the Jamie’s shot him. And they said to my Dad, it’s now you. Eventually, the Jamie gang killed you if you even did anything wrong. And they calmed down. But it was always more severe after their crack down. You got killed if you didn’t kill Andrew. And what my Dad said in the man's head, is the father is the son. If they killed me, they killed the son in the future.