ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ

104: ʙᴜꜱꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʙɪʟʟɪᴇ

MENTIONS OF SELF HARM

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OVER FIFTEEN YEARS AGO

Grace looked around the terminal. She had never been to Argentina before. Or, never sober, since she couldn't remember ever being there. 

She'd gotten stuck. Some issue something, she didn't know what, and honestly she didn't really care. She just needed something. She didn't have the money for it, but that's what she was waiting for. He should be here, soon . . . 

She didn't noticed the boy walking across the street. He was exhausted. He'd had to zigzag to the ferries, which he then caught to Argentina, and then got a call from his mother saying she wouldn't come to meet him, he had to come to meet her.

He had a backpack on his back, and bruises all over his legs. He'd thought a lot about what to wear. He wanted to make sure she thought it was cool. 

So, he wore his favourite Star Wars shirt - since it was in English, he thought she might like it, and Star Wars is also just really cool. Even with the beer ads in the middle. 

His shorts were just shorts, and his shoes were his favorite, too. A pair of high trainers that he wore too often. He'd made sure to wash his hair, and had even been getting his friend, Lita, to teach him how to get rid of the pimples that popped up on his chin. They weren't fully gone, but they weren't hurting anymore, so he was happy.

He spotted her before she spotted him. She didn't fully look like the photo he'd seen, but he still recognized her. Her hair was short and brown, instead of blonde and long. She was thinner, though she was thin at first, too. 

There was a smear of blood on her blue shirt, which was rather ratty, and her makeup was smeared. 

She basically sensed the boy, the excitement radiating from him making her annoyed. He had a wide smile on his face, but tried to hide it as he walked up to her, though the nerves were kicking around his stomach. That's Mama! That's my Mama!

"Hi, Mama." 

"Don't call me that." She lit her cigarette, and he was surprised she could speak Spanish. "Just call me Grace."

"Grace. Alright." He was still practically shaking with excitement. "I'm Sami."

"I know, I named you."

That was crazy to think about. His name, came from her. And he never even met her. That's crazy!

He wanted to hug her, but even he could sense that weird tension in the air. What was it? Did he do something wrong? Maybe he shouldn't have called her Mama. She didn't want to be. Oh, Sami! You did it again! You always mess these things up!

"I have rabbits." He went to his usual tactic - his boys. He could talk about them for hours. "They're like my kids. I called them Loki and Thor. Guess that makes you a Grandma."

As he chuckled, she put her hand over her face and through her hair. A grandma? Her? To this kid? She'd rather kill herself. 

"They're very sweet. Did you know that people think rabbits only live to about three years, but they're both five already and act perfectly healthy. Papa says it's because I'm so good with them."

She glanced at his bag, at the tags upon it from the ferry. "You got money, kid?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine to get back. I even brought more, in case you wanted to get lunch or something, I could pay for it. Then we could talk about things over lunch. Like - where do you live? Is it a big city? Or one of the small towns? Or is America nothing like what I see on TV and the news and books?"