*cracks knuckles, takes deep breath*
10/29/05 03:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: Brothers and Heroes
Rating: 1
Pairing: none really, at the moment
A/N: look, it’s all nice and neat and informative!
Brothers and Heroes
Over the wash of the waves against the beach, Bruce could hear a steady slap-slap of water, coming from the rocks. He was pretty certain he was the only one on the Hotel’s private beach, but it sounded like feet splashing around in water to him.
Curious, he crawled up over the rocks and stopped to watch a boy stalking about in ankle deep water. It was funny, he looked like a little old man, all bent and frowning, but he had the reddest hair Bruce had ever seen, clown red. No wonder the kid had a hat on, he thought, he’d wear a hat too if he had clown hair.
He slid quietly over the rocks, fascinated by the sight of clown red hair climbing out under the edge of the big hat and burning skin—the boy was red as the lobsters they boiled on the beach sometimes and where he wasn’t red, he was dotted with big copper freckles. Bruce looked down at his own brown arms and a little shudder ran through him as he wondered what it must feel like to boil like a lobster. The boy’s arms and legs were long and stick like, projecting from the bottoms of baggy khaki shorts rolled up, and a shirt looking just a little too small and tight. He must have had a growth spurt, that’s what Dad called it, he mused, watching the awkward movements of the kid.
He pulled his legs up into a tailor squat on the rock, his sturdy brown legs and arms crossed over each other and settled in to watch the kid, so fascinating, so odd and alien to Bruce.
He watched the boy write in a big notebook. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and it wiggled as he stared at the water and wrote, stared at the water and wrote some more. He had a jar full of water next to him and a little net lay on the rock he leaned against. He must be experimenting in the tide pools, Bruce figured, and curiosity finally drove him to the boy’s side. “Whatcha doin’?”
No reaction from the kid at all. “I’m wondering why you’re bothering me,” he said. He looked up and he had funny colored eyes, they looked like glass, like the eyes of his mom’s dolls. Hard to tell in the too bright light if they were blue or green. A scowl turned the corners of his mouth down so far, they turned out. Across his nose little gray flakes of skin were trying to lift off, and that was pretty fascinating too, Bruce thought. He itched to reach out and pull a flake loose, but that would be—not a bright thing to do. This kid was obviously not the friendly type but Bruce was out to make a friend. This boy was the only other boy at the hotel. They needed to band together so they wouldn’t die of boredom.
The other boy spoke again. “If you were trying to scare me, you were pretty bad. I heard you coming across the rocks a long time ago. I have excellent hearing,” he said. Not like he was bragging, just stating a fact. Now Bruce was even more curious. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The boy sighed deeply. “Alexander,” he said.
Bruce waited a moment but Alexander didn’t ask so he went ahead and said, “My name is Bruce.”
Alexander made a sound that could have been acknowledgement, could have meant beat it just as well.
Bruce was an optimist, a confident and sunny kind of kid--he just plowed ahead. His dad always told him that he was fearless. Well, maybe so—except for bats and rats--he wasn’t afraid of much.
Bruce watched Alexander for a bit and got ready to ask the boy another question when the kid slipped and fell in the water, soaking himself and slamming his knee against a rock. His knee immediately began to bleed, it was streaked with scratches and he grabbed it in both hands. He looked so startled, so betrayed, his hat slipped to the side of his head, clown hair hanging in wet rat tails over his face, His mouth was comically wide, his eyes perfectly round.
Bruce felt a hot wave of laughter try to pour out of his throat and he bit down on his tongue. He just knew--one laugh, one giggle, one little snort and he’d lose any chance at being friends with this weird kid. And he really wanted to be his buddy.
He stood motionless while the boy dragged himself out of the water, gathered up his things and pulled himself back up on a rock. He was making a terrible wheezing sound, and he held his head down and just…sat. Bruce came over and sat next to him. Silent, waiting. He was pretty sure just sitting was the right thing to do. He felt a brief surge of admiration for the boy. That knee had to hurt and he hadn’t made a peep.
After a little while Alexander said, “I can’t swim.” Bruce nodded, still silent. “I’m afraid of water.”
Bruce shrugged. “Every body’s afraid of something.”
“My daddy says you should face your fear.”
Bruce nodded again. “Yeah. But it’s probably okay to face it with a friend, too.”
Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “Yes.” He looked down and pushed his soggy notebook further up on the rock with his sandal-clad foot. The boys squinted against the sun and sat silently, listening to the plish of wavelets against the rock, and the raw sound of gulls calling to each other in the sky. The warm sun made Bruce feel relaxed, like a giant hand was patting him all over at once. He felt comfortable just sitting with Alexander.
After a while Alexander said, “Thanks for not laughing.”
Bruce shrugged, and kicked his foot in the warm water. “If you’re a guy’s friend you shouldn’t laugh at him.”
Alexander frowned slightly at Bruce, searching his face for something, and then he smiled.
Bruce had to smile back. Alexander didn’t look like an old man when he smiled; he looked like a regular kid. With clown hair, Bruce grinned.
Sometimes friendships happened just like that—sudden and complete.
Tbc
Rating: 1
Pairing: none really, at the moment
A/N: look, it’s all nice and neat and informative!
Brothers and Heroes
Over the wash of the waves against the beach, Bruce could hear a steady slap-slap of water, coming from the rocks. He was pretty certain he was the only one on the Hotel’s private beach, but it sounded like feet splashing around in water to him.
Curious, he crawled up over the rocks and stopped to watch a boy stalking about in ankle deep water. It was funny, he looked like a little old man, all bent and frowning, but he had the reddest hair Bruce had ever seen, clown red. No wonder the kid had a hat on, he thought, he’d wear a hat too if he had clown hair.
He slid quietly over the rocks, fascinated by the sight of clown red hair climbing out under the edge of the big hat and burning skin—the boy was red as the lobsters they boiled on the beach sometimes and where he wasn’t red, he was dotted with big copper freckles. Bruce looked down at his own brown arms and a little shudder ran through him as he wondered what it must feel like to boil like a lobster. The boy’s arms and legs were long and stick like, projecting from the bottoms of baggy khaki shorts rolled up, and a shirt looking just a little too small and tight. He must have had a growth spurt, that’s what Dad called it, he mused, watching the awkward movements of the kid.
He pulled his legs up into a tailor squat on the rock, his sturdy brown legs and arms crossed over each other and settled in to watch the kid, so fascinating, so odd and alien to Bruce.
He watched the boy write in a big notebook. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and it wiggled as he stared at the water and wrote, stared at the water and wrote some more. He had a jar full of water next to him and a little net lay on the rock he leaned against. He must be experimenting in the tide pools, Bruce figured, and curiosity finally drove him to the boy’s side. “Whatcha doin’?”
No reaction from the kid at all. “I’m wondering why you’re bothering me,” he said. He looked up and he had funny colored eyes, they looked like glass, like the eyes of his mom’s dolls. Hard to tell in the too bright light if they were blue or green. A scowl turned the corners of his mouth down so far, they turned out. Across his nose little gray flakes of skin were trying to lift off, and that was pretty fascinating too, Bruce thought. He itched to reach out and pull a flake loose, but that would be—not a bright thing to do. This kid was obviously not the friendly type but Bruce was out to make a friend. This boy was the only other boy at the hotel. They needed to band together so they wouldn’t die of boredom.
The other boy spoke again. “If you were trying to scare me, you were pretty bad. I heard you coming across the rocks a long time ago. I have excellent hearing,” he said. Not like he was bragging, just stating a fact. Now Bruce was even more curious. “What’s your name?” he asked.
The boy sighed deeply. “Alexander,” he said.
Bruce waited a moment but Alexander didn’t ask so he went ahead and said, “My name is Bruce.”
Alexander made a sound that could have been acknowledgement, could have meant beat it just as well.
Bruce was an optimist, a confident and sunny kind of kid--he just plowed ahead. His dad always told him that he was fearless. Well, maybe so—except for bats and rats--he wasn’t afraid of much.
Bruce watched Alexander for a bit and got ready to ask the boy another question when the kid slipped and fell in the water, soaking himself and slamming his knee against a rock. His knee immediately began to bleed, it was streaked with scratches and he grabbed it in both hands. He looked so startled, so betrayed, his hat slipped to the side of his head, clown hair hanging in wet rat tails over his face, His mouth was comically wide, his eyes perfectly round.
Bruce felt a hot wave of laughter try to pour out of his throat and he bit down on his tongue. He just knew--one laugh, one giggle, one little snort and he’d lose any chance at being friends with this weird kid. And he really wanted to be his buddy.
He stood motionless while the boy dragged himself out of the water, gathered up his things and pulled himself back up on a rock. He was making a terrible wheezing sound, and he held his head down and just…sat. Bruce came over and sat next to him. Silent, waiting. He was pretty sure just sitting was the right thing to do. He felt a brief surge of admiration for the boy. That knee had to hurt and he hadn’t made a peep.
After a little while Alexander said, “I can’t swim.” Bruce nodded, still silent. “I’m afraid of water.”
Bruce shrugged. “Every body’s afraid of something.”
“My daddy says you should face your fear.”
Bruce nodded again. “Yeah. But it’s probably okay to face it with a friend, too.”
Alexander nodded thoughtfully. “Yes.” He looked down and pushed his soggy notebook further up on the rock with his sandal-clad foot. The boys squinted against the sun and sat silently, listening to the plish of wavelets against the rock, and the raw sound of gulls calling to each other in the sky. The warm sun made Bruce feel relaxed, like a giant hand was patting him all over at once. He felt comfortable just sitting with Alexander.
After a while Alexander said, “Thanks for not laughing.”
Bruce shrugged, and kicked his foot in the warm water. “If you’re a guy’s friend you shouldn’t laugh at him.”
Alexander frowned slightly at Bruce, searching his face for something, and then he smiled.
Bruce had to smile back. Alexander didn’t look like an old man when he smiled; he looked like a regular kid. With clown hair, Bruce grinned.
Sometimes friendships happened just like that—sudden and complete.
Tbc
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
7/1/08 03:30 am (UTC)Love it.
(no subject)
7/1/08 03:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/4/08 03:30 pm (UTC)