I am Mademoiselle FANTASY and today I will be writing a miniature story or one-shot. Today’s inspiration is 3 things. My never-ending passion (addiction) for superheroes and ships, another blogger’s comment and post (stripSearchLA‘s “Here we (are) we here?“) and the song East, by the artist Sleeping At Last:
(Listen to the song while reading this and afterwards check out stripSearchLA)
Brooklyn, September 1923
“Rise and shine!” Sarah Rogers woke up her son. “I’m getting up. I’m getting up…” he said while wrapping the blanket even more around him. “If you don’t get up then you won’t go to school and then you won’t get a good education and…” “And I will be poor and uneducated and everyone will be able to maneuver and use me… I know, I know…” “Get up then Steve.”
He got up and drank a whole glass of milk. He could drink a whole glass only on Mondays, because he needed the energy, according to his mother. He had noticed that no one ate a lot on Mondays except for him. Dad had left for work. He worked at the docks, by the sea. “Hurry up!” Ma had to go to the hospital. She worked at Coney Island, at Sea Breeze Hospital. “I’m ready.”
Steve had taken books, paper, pencil and…um… the pill! He threw it in the bag and run out the door. “I’ll be back at 8 so you’ll have to be alone for 3 hours after school. Can you do that?” “Aha.” “Good. There is mashed potatoes and leftover soup. Make sure to leave some for dad, but eat enough. Dad can go one day without food, you can’t. You know what happens if you eat little and take the pill, right? And don’t you dare forget your medicine!” “Yes ma.” She said the same things to Steve everyday. He had asthma and heart disease. He was sick. Sometimes he even felt sick. A lot of times he felt sick. But he was alive, so it didn’t matter he was sick. He wasn’t going to give up like that.
He took the same route to school everyday. It was a little long, but that was nice. He could sit down after school and draw in his notebook. His mother always bought him pencils and some real good pencils too. Those were Steve’s expenses pencils and medicine.
The streets were always crowed on a Monday morning, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or… Coming to think of it, streets were crowed every day. That was nice. He could see men in suits, workers, lawyers, doctors, priests, teachers, accountants, journalists, painters, singers, nurses, secretaries and so many others becoming a busy crowd. People were walking fast and trying their best not to bump on one another. They were waiting on bus stops and barely looked at each other. At times loud voices were heard in many languages. English, Italian, German, French, Chinese… it all became a buzz. Manhattan was even louder. He had gotten to Manhattan once. It was big and nice, but it wasn’t that different.
He looked all around him. There were many shops. It was fascinating to see so much merchandise all around him. he didn’t want to buy it. He wanted to draw it. He loved drawing. He greeted Mr. Adams. He was a Jewish shop owner. He sold antiques and other collectables. “Good morning Steven!” He continued. Mrs. Bello was Mr. Bello’s wife. Mr. Bello was a barber. They were from Napoli. “Morning mam!” “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Mrs. Bello was smiling kindly. She was a good madame. “That’s were I’m going mam.” She yelled something, but he didn’t listen. He run and got to school just on time.
School was boring and hard. Was there a worse combination? No one wanted to play with Steve during the break. Everyone thought he was too skinny and sick. But he was a lot stronger than what he looked. Once he had gotten in a fight and he had won. He was just bones and skin was even if his punches were a bit off they still hurt.
He was looking at a bunch of boys playing chase. He wanted to play. He was fast. He didn’t feel sick that day. There were 3 boys. He knew 2 of them. It was Todd and Harry. They were the fastest and stupider. He didn’t like Todd and Harry. They made fum of everyone and even picked on girls. He had gotten to a fight with them once and he had lost. But they had gotten some bruises and scratches too. He didn’t know the other boy. His was tall, really tall, with brown hair and blue, no grey, eyes. He was winning. He was faster than Todd and Harry. But Steve knew he’d be faster than him too. Steve was really fast.
He looked down at his notebook. He had drawn that unknown kid without realising it. He liked that drawing. He’d keep it. “I’ve already beat you twice. I’m bored!” the unknown kid yelled. He had a nice voice. It was kind of like he was singing. He liked his voice. Maybe he was Italian. “Want to win one more time?” Todd said. The kid huffed and said “I don’t want to win. I want to have fun!” “Winning is having fun.” Harry said. “No it isn’t. It’s boring.” The kid insisted. “Maybe you should just find someone faster.” That was Steve’s voice. He had talked. Why had he talked? Todd and Harry’s initially shock was turned into an evil grin. “Faster? Like who? You!? We are the fastest here Rogers. You are an Irish fuck that can’t go one day without that pill thing.” He put his notebook aside and got up. He looked straight in their eyes and told them “And you are a French shit.” “Say that one more time fucker.” Todd had dark brown eyes. “You are a French shit.” He could see Todd’s fist hitting his face. “Todd stop!” The kid yelled. “If he is fast let’s play with him. Are you fast?” The kid looked at him in a weird way. He couldn’t understand what he was trying to do. “Yes.” “Let’s play then. I chase!”
It was the first time he played with someone else. It was nice, the adrenaline and all. Harry and Todd had been caught almost immediately, but Steve was still running. He was having fun. He enjoyed the wind blowing around him. The kids that were avoiding him. It was like a maze he had to escape from. One foot in front of the other. He can do this. He doesn’t need anyone’s help. He CAN do this. The bell rang. End of the game. End of the fun. Had he taken his pill? Yes, he had. The kid was breathing heavily. “You… are… really… fast…” “Thanks. You too.” They went to class.
After school Todd and Harry took another route. They were chickens. If they had some guts they’d face him now, without the teachers. Chickens! His gaze drifted to the kid. There was a younger girl with him. She looked like him, but her eyes were honey-coloured. Maybe she was his sister. He started walking.
“Wait!” He heard a voice and a felt a hand stopping him. He turned around. It was the kid again. “You the really fast kid! What’s your name?” “Steve Rogers. Yours?” That kid had intrigued him from the start. It’d be nice to know the name, although he’d probably never talk to him again. The boy straitened his back and introduced himself. He looked confident. “James Buchanan Barnes.” James… that didn’t sound right. It was too common, too basic. It didn’t suit his expectations. Buchanan was so bad it was laughable. He wouldn’t say that out loud though. How about Boucky, or Becky. Becky!? That’s a girls name. And Boucky sounds like a monster. How about… um… Bucky? Yeah B-U-C-K-Y. Bucky. Sounds good.
“So… you forgot that.” Bucky handed him his notebook. “I might have looked in it a little bit. Sorry.” Bucky stared at the ground. “But the drawings were really good. Did you make ’em?” Steve felt a weird sense of embarrassment and pride. He could feel a burn in his cheeks. “Um… yeah… I made ’em.” “Well, they’re real nice! You must be an artist or something.” The burn intensified. “Oh… me? I’m no big deal. I just like it.” “Well you’re an artist for me!” Steve whispered a thank you. So that was how receiving a compliment felt like…
“Want to return home together?” Steve’s chest felt like it’d break. No one had ever asked him to walk with him. He had always wondered whether he’d see things differently or not. “Sure!”
Good morning! Good evening! Good afternoon! Wherever you might be or whenever you might be reading this. How are you guys?! I genuinely wish you’re having a good day. So this is 2 things: a fanfic and a one-shot. You don’t have to know the story nor to like it, but if you do, enjoy a little fanfic for my boys. There will be a part 2 about this (unless you hate it) so this isn’t the end. But it is happy, isn’t it?
Hugs, love and good vibes,
P.S.: I am not French. The name was just one of those stupid ideas someone has, but likes them too much to let them go… 🙂
I DO NOT own the song “East”. It belongs to the artist “Sleeping At Last” and the video to the YouTube channel Sleeping At Last.
I DO NOT own the characters Steve Rogers, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Sarah Rogers and Dad. They belong to Marvel Comics.