Reaper's Lullaby

Gus: Happy Birthday

"One warm night four children stood in front of a bakery. No one knew them. No one knew where they had come from."
- The Boxcar Children book 1 by Gertrude Chandler Warner

On his sixteenth birthday, Gus came home late after school to a locked house and his stuff thrown all over the front porch. Papers from his favorite book, The Boxcar Children, rustled gently in the dry California wind. The trailer was surrounded by the Mojave Desert, and the cool spring night was dark and vast.

Gus had been good for a long time after his arrest in Chicago. He had even been going to school and living with the Wiggins like he was supposed to... before Kevin moved back home.

Kevin was the Wiggins's grown son, an unemployed twenty-something who had gotten himself evicted and was now living in a trailer on their property. Gus could sniff out a drug dealer a mile away, and Kevin was the type who didn't ask any questions if you had the right amount of cash. The deal was the Wiggins continued to receive the check from the state and pretend everything was going well while Gus crashed in the trailer and paid Kevin for crystal meth. Everyone made money. Everyone was happy. 'Till now.

"HEY!" Gus shouted, pounding on the dirty door of the trailer. "I know you're in there, motherfucker! Open up!"

No answer.

Sighing, Gus sat down on the rickety front steps and lit a cigarette, trying to figure out what he'd done to piss Kevin off. He was always pissing people off, and he never understood why.

The cigarette was almost down to the filter, and instead of putting it out on the ground Gus pressed it against his forearm, gasping at the pain but feeling a thrill of pleasure pulse through him at the same time.

After he stood up and tossed the smashed cigarette into the bushes, Gus knocked on the door again. No answer, again. He kicked the splintery wood once in anger before stomping around the side of the trailer to try his bedroom window. Hours from crashing, he badly needed some tweak and couldn't stand for this bullshit.

His window was locked too, so he punched his fist through and climbed inside, cutting his hands on the jagged glass. The room had been stripped. He frantically searched for his stash of Ice in the bottom drawer of the dresser, only to find it was gone, along with all his money.

Down the hall, Gus heard a door open. In a flash, Kevin stormed into the room, grabbed him by the shirt and slammed his body against the wall like he weighed nothing.

Gus had been small his whole life because he'd been born doped up. His ability to run, evade enemies and squeeze into small spaces had earned him the nickname Mouse back in Chicago. Now he just felt like a mouse in a trap.

"Why the FUCK are you breaking my windows, Gus!" Kevin yelled in his face.

"Why the FUCK did you lock me out, Kevin?" Gus said the name mockingly.

Kevin threw him against the empty dresser. It wobbled once, then tipped and landed with an ear-splitting BANG on the floor.

"Ow! That fuckin' hurt, asshole!" Gus shouted, shoving Kevin back.

"YOU STOLE FROM ME!" Kevin yelled.

"I DID NOT!" Gus countered.

It was not exactly the truth. He had swiped a hundred dollars so he could score better Ice from a different dealer in the next town. But he had the money now to pay it back.

"WHERE'S MY MONEY?" Kevin demanded.

Gus dug in his pockets and threw everything he had at Kevin's feet. "It's all there! I'm sorry!"