Mutual Future (Mungrove)

Desperate and Ravenous, Weak and Powerless

WARNING: Racial slurs ahead.

For the next several weeks, Billy spent all of his free time with Mrs. Miller and The Hobbit. After school, he went straight home, and she had snacks and reading lessons waiting for him. He'd eat cookies and work on the lessons while Mrs. Miller cooked dinner. After lessons, they ate dinner together and then Billy excused himself and went up to his apartment to watch television, drink a few beers, and smoke a joint before bed.

On the weekends, Billy spent his days working in Mrs. Miller's garden. Even though he assured her that she didn't have to pay him for the work, since he was living in her garage apartment and eating dinner with her every night for free, she insisted that he needed the money more than she did. So, he took the money and stashed most of it in the drawer with his socks.

Saturday nights, Billy went out. Reading The Hobbit kept Eddie on his mind most of the week, and by the time the weekends rolled around, Billy was tired of thinking about how he'd screwed that friendship up. It was bad enough seeing him at school, though it seemed like Eddie was doing his best to avoid him. There would be days at a time that Billy never saw Eddie. Though every once in a while, he'd catch a glimpse of him from behind as he was walking down the hall between classes.

So, on Saturday nights, Billy would try to find something else to occupy his mind. That something else usually ended up with him at The Hideout. As empty and worthless as it made him feel, the only time that Billy could really shut off his brain was when he was drunk and lost in meaningless sex with someone he didn't give a shit about.

Mrs. Miller never asked Billy where he went on Saturday nights. But he knew that she waited up for him. He could see her shadow as she peeked out the window when he'd come rolling in after The Hideout closed. He appreciated her silence on the matter. He knew she didn't approve of his drinking and drug use. But she was patient and tolerant and never said a word to him. The look in her eye on Sunday afternoon, when he'd finally roll out of bed and join her in the garden was enough to make her feelings perfectly clear.

When school let out, Billy fell into a sort of funk. He hadn't graduated, though he didn't expect to but it was still something of a blow to watch all his classmates graduate and he got left behind again. On the Saturday of the high school graduation, he didn't join Mrs. Miller for coffee. He just put on his work clothes and went down to the garden. He had stacks of mulch bags that he needed to spread throughout the plants. When Mrs. Miller saw him through her kitchen window, she stepped outside with a large glass of iced water for him. He gave her a friendly enough smile, though it was forced, and he felt every bit of the effort it took to give her that smile.

Mrs. Miller put on her straw sun hat and garden clogs then went out to join Billy. He smiled again as he hefted a bag of mulch over his shoulder and carried it over to where the tomatoes were growing. Mrs. Miller held the glass out to Billy, and he carefully laid the mulch next to the row of tomatoes before wiping his hands on a bandana then taking the glass from her.

"Thanks, Mrs. Miller," he said before taking a long, thankful drink of the water.

"How are you holding up, William?"

"I'm okay," he told her with a shrug. "I didn't expect to graduate this time anyway." He handed the half empty glass back to her and knelt next to the bag of mulch. "I'm probably not going back next year either."

"Oh, William. You're so close." He didn't answer, just cut the bag of mulch open and started spreading it around the first plant. "You've only got one chapter of The Hobbit left. And you've been reading very well without my guidance. Next year, won't the teachers be surprised when you turn in your assignments?"

"Mrs. Miller, I'm not even sure they'll let me come back next year because of my age." Billy squinted up at her. "I think I've aged out of public school. Let's face it. I'm just not destined to have a diploma."