Silence | Book 1

2-10: Out [M-T]

Tristan held a tiny bag of French fries in his outstretched hand, half of them already eaten before he'd decided to give them to his mum. On the other side of the booth a woman in her early thirties held a blonde little girl, two years old at most, and tried to feed her the soft parts of a chip and the apple sauce squeezy from a kid's meal. At least until she noticed him holding out the fries.
"Oh no love, that's alright. You still need to grow." She said as she rubbed his cheek and he took the fries back.
"But mum..." He mumbled, as he looked a bit doubtful at the fries. "Aren't you hungry?"
"Of course not, mummy is all grown up, so she doesn't need it." She said with a little smile, and he smiled back and nodded, like he was still five when that would have made sense. Now he just saw how thin she was, her skin too loose where she had been soft and round before, and too tight around the bones in her face. He felt guilty for eating the last fries, but he was hungry too.

To distract himself, he grabbed the toy from his meal: some weird purple monster with four arms that could move. It's belly lit up when he pushed a button. He held it out to Anya, who tried to grab it with both hands, curious as to what it was. As he made several little growls and moved the monster up and down, her eyes went wide, and she let out a loud and excited laugh, that echoed through the nearly empty restaurant.
Three late night employees and their manager looked on, discussing amongst themselves, before the manager finally had enough. In the politest 'stern to the customer' manner that he could manage, he walked up to his mother. Tristan looked at her when he noticed, wide eyed and a little scared, but she smiled and handed Anya over to him.
"Would you play with her for a second love, mummy will be right back." She said, before standing up to face the manager.
Mere moments later her screaming filled the restaurant, yelling that they couldn't kick them out.

-

Tristan was strapped in into the middle seat of their old station wagon, while Anya was asleep in the baby seat beside him. Despite trying his best not to see or listen, he could hear his mother swear under her breath behind the wheel. She rambled on and on about how the devil would get them all, how people were heartless, and how his father was a wanker. Every now and then he saw her scratch her arm, in a frantic, nearly compulsory motion.
He tried to busy himself with anything else as the streets just passed by, and by, and he didn't recognise any of them. He didn't know where they were going – or if they were going anywhere, and not just another parking lot. There was nothing he could do as he was tied to his mother's whims, other than try to keep Anya safe. Carefully he took her tiny hand in his, and even in her sleep she instinctively wrapped her fingers tightly around two of his. Just watching her made him feel tired, but he didn't dare ask when, yet alone where, he would sleep, knowing better than to disturb his mother.
Quietly he played with his monster toy, even if he felt he was too old for toys like that now – it was the only thing he had. Nothing else was his, he knew that because he had been taken away from it all on a whim. A few days ago everything was still good, but now he just had his clothes and this monster. So who was to say that this too wouldn't be gone if he didn't behave? He could be outside in the cold, or alone. To have something bad was better than to have nothing at all.
"Stop it!" His mother's sudden shouting made him look up in shock, immediately frozen.
"But I'm not doing anything." He said frustrated and confused, betrayed that even being quiet wasn't enough. Beside him Anya stirred in her sleep, and he caught her big eyes opening, darting about with the same confusion as he had – but instead of defending herself, all she could do was cry. The moment he saw the tears well up, he quickly tried to comfort her again.
"Now look what you have done!" His mother yelled again, throwing angry glances back while at the same time trying to pay attention to the road.
"Don't yell, it makes her cry!" He shouted back, unsure what he deserved the sudden hostility for, and desperate to calm Anya down, whose wails now filled the small space.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" His mother's shouting lingered like growling. "After all I've done for you, I've fed you, I've taken care of you, I even got you that stupid toy, didn't I?"