(GQ #13) Adventures in Spacepunk

9. Cardboard Kid

Leave it to Lunaria to make an alleyway feel sterile. Wasting time here felt like a defanged replica of Aiden's old life, free from the stresses of fighting over half-rotten scraps or fending off his sleeping spot from being used as a bathroom. Even the recycling bin he dug through felt too clean to be real.

He got some reading material out of it, a torn box with instructions on how to assemble a bench. It boasted three easy-to-clean seats. So exciting, it nearly put him to sleep, but sleeping wasn't an option now that his lookout left. Only the business-sized recycling bin stood between him and whatever nosy pig passed by. There were worse ways to spend his time.

Sometimes his mind wandered to that kid and the way he stumbled off in a huff. Aiden did ditch him when the cops showed up, but Little Summers screwed up his one job. Two could be mad.

Though it wasn't like Aiden totally left him to fry; he kept an eye on things from afar just in case he had to step in. That kid needed an arrest no more than a blow to the head. Summers could stay mad if he wanted to. Aiden only hoped he took that bluff about Jun to heart.

Footsteps came down the alley, followed by a sigh. Either someone from the laundromat had something to throw away or someone ratted him out for digging in the recycling bin. With no time to run, he had to get crafty. He pretended to look for his wallet, mentally practicing his most respectable 'Hello, Officer.'

But it was just some random kid digging in the bin. The sight of Aiden clearly freaked him out. Once he calmed down, he muttered something under his breath, then opened with "Look. There's an eleven-year-old boy running around, about five-foot-three, with red hair and freckles. Have you seen him?"

"No." Aiden matched his attitude, hoping it would get this freckled boy to go away.

It didn't. Instead, he stomped around, sighing way too loud. His giant backpack rustled with every stomp. He dressed like some sort of robot, complete with a circuit patterned jumpsuit and some kind of hi-tech monocle covering half of his glasses. With less spacepunks on this street, it made it feel like he was trying to get as many people to notice him as possible.

"He's not here. Move. Can't you see I'm tryin' to get away from people?"

"I wish I could do that. Seems to be the hot new trend!"

Aiden weighed his options. Letting Monocle Boy stay around could cause unwanted attention, but if the wrong person saw him scare him off, Aiden knew he'd end up in a lot more trouble.

"Half my family's in on it. Even my little brother. He can barely throw his clothes in the dirty clothes hamper, and now he thinks he can run off on his own. Can you believe that?" At least Summers stayed quiet.

Aiden sighed. "If you're gonna keep whining, do me a favor and keep a lookout for cops."

"Why? Are you...?" Monocle Boy trailed off, realizing whatever question he meant to ask was not smart. "Sorry to disturb you, sir. Whatever your story is, I don't need to know."

That was more like it.

"But if you're willing to hear me out," he stopped just when Aiden thought he might actually leave this time, "it all started over money. Thanks to my expert handling of our finances, we were under budget this month. So naturally, I should be the one who gets to spend it, right?"

Aiden shrugged with an 'I don't know' sound.

"But nooo, I just had to open my big mouth. So my little brother Kyle gets the idea to have all of us decide what we want to spend it on as if I don't pull most of the weight. Hasn't anyone ever heard of a meritocracy?"