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Betere leesbaarheid

Nick S. Borden (4)

door killea

Emma had cooked macaroni with cheese and her three ravenous children ate in relative silence. Nick was well pleased with himself, his gang, and their plans for the next day. As Bart helped his mother clear the dishes he winked at Nick.

"Come into my room when we're finished, want to show you something."
"You leave him alone!" Sarah, ever protective, shouted.

She, morose as always when she was at home, gave Bart her fiercest look then left to do her homework. Later she would go to Nick and read to him. Emma, who was on her second after-dinner sherry, told her boys to run along.

Contrary to Nick's bedroom, Bart's was extremely neat for a fifteen year-old. Posters of his favourite rock stars adorned the walls. Bart had graduated to High School this year and was, in Nick's eyes, the coolest guy around.

"Hey, little bro." Bart pulled Nick inside and closed the door.
"Hey Bart. I formed a gang today!" Nick proudly shared his news.
"Good for youse, kiddo! I've got something for you and ya gang. Here smoke this and see how ya like." Bart handed Nick a reefer whilst opening his window.
"Ya can't tell anyone about it though!"

Nick lit the reefer and took a deep drag. He started coughing like never before. Bart slapped his back.

"Shhh! Just take small drags first, kiddo! Here, give me a drag now." He passed the reefer back to Nick. They continued smoking it in silence. Nick feeling tremendous, all grown up like his brother, didn't know what to say.

Then he smiled broadly, followed by a giggle which started in his belly and rumbled up to a fit of uncontrollable laughter. They both laughed until the tears ran down their faces.

"Shhh now and listen. I can give you a little bit of this for you and ya gang now but if youse ever want more ya gotta pay for it. Or ya can sell some for me - we'll work something out, okay little bro?" With that Bart went into his bottom dresser drawer and pulled out a little bag of cannabis and handed it to Nick.
"Now you mustn't tell no-one about it! Keep it hidden. You hear me?"
"Yep." Nick could barely repress another burst of laughter.
"Now get outta here. I gotta meet with my boys tonight." With that Bart manoeuvred Nick out the door and shut it behind him.

Hearing Nick leave Bart's room, Sarah went to Nick with the book they were presently reading. It was Dicken's Tale of Two Cities. Nick sprawled on his bed and Sarah came to sit next to him.
"What did Bart want from you?"
"Ah, nuttin'," Nick grinned at her.
Sarah sniffed near his mouth.
"It's nothing, not nuttin'. Do try to speak more articulately Nick!" Sarah admonished him. Nick repeated the exact words she had said, mocking her in her acquired posh voice.
"Nuttin', nuttin' nuttin' is what Bart wanted," Nick burst out laughing again.
"You've been smoking pot! Haven't you? Haven't you?" she repeated.

Nick just continued laughing, so she smacked him hard across the cheek. Never ever having been hit before by Sarah, Nick was stunned into silence, now with tears welling in his eyes. Sarah straddled Nick and held him down.

"Now you tell me everything that happened, everything Bart said and did while you were in his room, or I swear I will beat the crap out of you, precious!"

Sarah who had just turned twelve, and who had always exerted more authority over him than his own mother, scared the hell out of Nick. Her phenomenal strength in both character and street-smart-behaviour had him telling her everything she wanted to know, except that he had his own little stash. Thankfully, he had slipped it into his underpants (a simple trick learnt from stealing), as Sarah managed to search his jeans pockets whilst still holding him down.

"You get to bed now, and don't ever let me catch you smokin' this stuff again or I will never ever read with you again, and I will thrash you too. Is that understood, you little shit?" Sarah yelled into his ear, slightly losing her elocution as she lost her temper.?" Little did they know that their reading days were already over. She left his room slamming the door behind her.

Emma, who had fallen asleep on the sofa after another two sherries, heard nothing, as she had known nothing for the longest time of what her children were up to after dinner.

Bart had already left to meet up with his mates so Sarah went into his room. She opened the bottom drawer and rummaged under the pile of socks. She found a box of double-layered chocolates, and under the first layer of half-eaten chocolates she found what she was looking for. It was all neatly packaged; cannabis and ready-made reefers; little plastic bags with diverse pills; a fat roll of notes held in place by a rubber-band. She took the pot, reefers and pills, flushed them down the toilet, keeping the plastic bags which she refilled with aspirin, vitamin pills, constipation and diuretic pills. She tightly rolled toilet paper and put one bill around it and trimmed off the excess tissue and secured it with the rubber-band. In the bag used for the weed, she stuffed a sock and note in it saying "SHIT BELONGS IN THE TOILET!" Then she ransacked the rest of Bart's neat room, tearing down posters, emptying all the other drawers on the floor, and finally pulling his bedding apart.

In the early hours of the morning Bart returned home to the mess in his room. He went straight to the bottom drawer of his dresser which seemed not to have been touched. In his high and drunk state, he checked his box of chocolates, which at first glance seemed untouched. His momentary sigh of relief was followed, after closer examination, by a resounding shout.


In his rush to the door he stumbled over the mess on the floor, falling onto the mattress and bedding. He lay there, plotting his revenge in his befuddled, less than clear mind. His last thought before he fell into an intoxicated sleep was, at least the money is still there…


feedback van andere lezers

  • Mistaker
    I like your style.
    Viva Santiago!

    Greta xx
    killea: many thanks Greta
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