"Ray, it's ok, we didn't know what else was wrong with him. I've had those moments after a bad day when you just...run out of patience. I once screamed at Frank because he wouldn't understand that dirty dishes needed more than water to be clean. He was drying them without having used detergent at all." I recalled. "I guess it's not easy to put ourselves in Frank's place, we must remember how complicated it can sometimes be for him to understand simple instructions."
"Yeah. What makes it hard to imagine is that he's obviously smart. Like, for example, he knows a lot about animals and can remember some things people have said word by word!"
"Yes, he's a smart boy and has his talents," I agreed. "but also limitations that we'll have to deal with. Sometimes he just lacks concentration. It's like...he hears the words but doesn't comprehend them."
"I know...I'll try to be more patient. He needs us to be, and I won't die from repeating things twice or more." Ray said.
"Ray, you've been great. I don't know what I'd have done without you, man! I'm sure Frankie thanks you too."
"It's also a good experience for me, believe me. I never thought I'd be able to do this, to take care of someone like Frankie. I surprised myself and it's so rewarding, he's a real sweet boy." I could 'hear' the smile in his voice. And I knew the feeling, I knew it so well. When you'd see Frank laugh or talk lively, happy to have someone's full attention, all the bad moments were swept away.
"He is..."
"Oh, Gee...were you able to find out something about the kid?" Ray inquired.
"No, Bob got some people try to get into the police's databases, but none succeeded."
"Ah..." the line went silent for a while. "Have you tried phone calls?"
"What do you mean?" I had no idea what he was talking about.
"Well, I've been thinking about something: Frank's last name -if it's correct- is not a common one. Maybe you could grab a directory and call all Ieros?" he explained.
"And what would I say to them?"
"Uh...you could ask them if they know an 18 year-old called Frank?"
"Frankie's been locked up almost his whole life, apparently. If he has any other relatives they most probably don't know him." my negativity showed up.
"Maybe some do! You lose nothing by trying." positive Ray counteracted.
"You're right...I'll think about it."
"It's a good chance. I know you don't like the idea of calling strangers, but I can't think of any other option right now."
"Neither can I, honestly. I'll consider your idea." I said. Could that be my plan B?
After hanging up, I turned the TV on and leaned back. I wasn't really paying attention to what was being shown on the screen. It was just random images flashing before my eyes while I dived in my own thoughts about that day's news, about Ray's idea, about my first payment that I'd get the following day and if it'd be enough. I hadn't even made the calculations, I hadn't had the time or the guts. But mostly, I was thinking about Frank. Just Frank. Frank and how I was missing his lips.
"Hi, baby!" I greeted him as he came walking slowly and carefully. His chocolate hair messy and curly, his bright eyes reddened with sleep. He was holding Puppy against his chest, his hands shaking but never losing the proportion. The dog was always the exact same size in his mind.
"P-puppy woke m-me up. L-licked my face." he laughed. "And...and th-the little people are h-hungry. S-said if they can e-eat with us." he hadn't mentioned the little people in weeks, so I found it ironic that he did again now that he was medicated. It'd only been five days of that, anyway
"Well, they don't eat too much so I guess they can." I assented.
"Yay!" Frank acclaimed and, previously leaving Puppy over the coffee table, he threw himself onto me and kissed my cheek. He then separated his body from mine and sat next to me, though his arms lingered on my neck; his pupils as close to his nose as physically possible because of the proximity. I was a statue, he got me bewitched.
"L-love you very...v-very much." he whispered in that tone I hadn't heard in days. That tone no one would believe Frank could use. That tone that reminded me that he wasn't a kid.
Inches diminished. Perfect pink lips approached me. I waited without doing anything, without moving. But just when I thought I'd get back what I had been missing he receded, sitting up at the edge of the couch and looking at his feet.
"Hey, what's wrong Frankie?" I moved some hair off his face. He blushed.
"I...I w-was gonna...w-wanted...no...b-but...no...m-maybe you d-don't want to." he rambled, nervous and confused.
"What did you want to do? Tell me..."
"N-no...'cause...maybe y-you..."
"Please, tell me." I made him look at me.
"K-kiss your m-mouth..." he murmured, now completely flushed.
So that had been the problem all along. Frankie was more conscious and that had turned him shyer and more insecure, but his feelings were intact. If he had only known what his words meant to me, how they liberated me from the oppressing weight in my heart.
"That's no problem, sweety. Come here." I indicated him to sit on my lap. He did, but seemed still unsure.
"B-but..."
"Of course I want to kiss you." I added. He grinned, his arms around my neck again.
And I kissed him. Softly and tenderly, delicately but needy. His lips accompanied my lips a lot easier this time, but his smile was present as the previous times. I let my hands slowly run along his back, testing, stopping by his waist. He shuddered, and a short sigh escaped his mouth.
"You ok?" I asked him. He nodded, catching his breath. My fingers brushed his dark waves of hair aside and I deposited mini kisses on his neck, following a way to his jaw and back to his lips. He giggled and sighed again, clearly enjoying it. Suddenly, I felt the tip of his warm tongue against my lower lip. Frankie drew back, laughing behind his hand.
"Oh!" I exclaimed amused. He must have learned that watching movies.
I entwined our fingers and kissed him once again; the tip of my tongue now running along his lower lip. More giggles, and the butterflies in my stomach were having a party. He let his tongue come out and meet my thankful one. We rubbed them for a while and Frankie never stopped giggling, for moments adding to that a short whimper. As a temporary conclusion, we sealed the moment with one more meaningful kiss, as if we had agreed on that, and stayed with our foreheads together.
Frankie smiled widely and then brought his index finger to his lips.
"Shh." he hissed. "It..it's our s-secret."
CHAPTER 21
And he starts wondering what it's like to be liked by everyone,
and like everyone be just like anyone,
and just wants to be so just like anyone.
Frankie's words transfixed my soul, he seemed to understand more than I had thought. He remembered what I'd said and repeated it in such a sweet way that I felt like an ogre. After what had just happened, one would suppose that there would be no problem in telling him we could be boyfriends. However, I was still too afraid of what my family and friends would say, or more of what they could do. It wasn't shame what stopped me, but the fear of losing Frank. I didn't intend to keep it a secret forever, yet I needed time to think of how to tell them.
I smiled imitating Frankie's 'silence' gesture, my index finger across my lips. "I'm gonna go make dinner now, be a good boy." I gave him an extra kiss and left.
"Al-always." he nodded. "D-don't forget the p-plate for the l-little people!"
I watched Frankie's little battle over his dish of boiled potatoes with eggs and mayonnaise. In vain he tried to get something with his fork, only succeeding in pushing the food around with it and sometimes even missing the plate. Annoyed, he sighed and left the fork aside, resorting to eating with his fingers.
"Want me to get you a deeper plate and a spoon? It could be easier..." I offered.
"N-nope. I c-can." he grinned, stuffing his mouth.
"Go ahead, then." I didn't mind him eating like that, so I brought my attention back to my plate.
I'd let Frankie do things in any way he liked or managed as long as it couldn't get him hurt. I had bought him a fancy purple straw to drink his beverages, so he didn't need as much help when his hands weren't responding well. At most, I had to assist him to get the straw into his mouth.
Frank knew he was different; he knew he was 'special', as that woman Grace had called him. Nevertheless I'd always try to make the differences less noticeable because I didn't want him to feel inferior. Whenever he encountered problems to do something, I'd find a way for him to do it by himself the same. Sometimes he'd just adapt when facing complications, like it happened with the food case.
He was an incredible boy, so easy to love. I already knew I could spend my whole life with him. I was ready to take care of Frankie forever, to make him happy the same way he made me happy. Because he did, specially after showing me that he truly felt something deeper for me. He had apparently always known what he was doing when he said he liked me, when he said he loved me; when he'd innocently seduce me and kiss me. I didn't know how far our relationship could go, but at the moment I didn't care. I'd enjoy what we had and take it step by step.
I kept in mind that I'd have to be careful. At night, before going to sleep, I'd never try to go farther than some little goodnight kisses and then cuddling. The fact of being in bed together made the situation feel bolder, and I didn't want to push things much. What we had was perfect to me, and seeing Frankie happy was all that mattered.
**********
"Hi!" Frankie exclaimed when I got home the following day, jumping on my back while I was closing the door. Then I noticed the white marks his hands were leaving on my black t-shirt.
I walked to the couch and carefully placed Frank there. His face and clothes were white, too. He got up and took my hand, dragging me behind him.
For moments he'd walk as if he was drunk, and he almost fell twice as he guided me to the kitchen, but I held him. I was sure his equilibrium would get better with time; he probably used to take a different medication and his body needed to assimilate the new one. At least Frankie wasn't complaining at all, everything seemed normal to him.
"What happened here?" I questioned what greeted me in the kitchen.
"W-we been making c-cookies!" Frank said. I saw that my mother was there too, though she hadn't arrived when I left that morning. The kitchen was kind of a disaster: the whole dark floor was full of flour, and cookie dough was covering the table and dripping from it. Ray was wearing a blue apron, his afro also adorned with both flour and dough.
"Frankie said I'm a human cookie now." Ray chuckled, shaking his head.
"I thought it'd be a good activity for him..." my mom shrugged timidly, probably responding to my wide-eyed expression. "He seemed bored."
"Oh, I agree! Good idea, thanks mom and Ray!" I let them know I wasn't angry. "Now, if after eating these delicious cookies I get some help to clean this...then we'll go to the supermarket."
I had finally gotten paid for real, though everybody thought it'd happened weeks ago. I hoped they wouldn't ask where the money had come from now.
"M-means I can g-go?" Frank asked wishfully.
"Of course!"
"Then I better go too..." my mother decided.
"Oh! Gerard," Ray spoke while trying to get rid of everything that was entangled in his curls. "I called the oculist as you asked."
"Thanks, Ray! I knew you had a better memory than mine, I kept forgetting."
"Frankie has an appointment this Friday, I wrote it down and left the paper near the phone together with the address."
"Wh-what's an oc-oc...that?" Frankie inquired.
"It's an eye doctor, he'll help you see better. You'll most probably have to wear glasses like Mikey." mom explained to him. Hopefully, Frankie's main needs would be fulfilled soon.
"Ahh..." he spaced out and took a cookie out of the pile.
*********
Frank had never been in a supermarket before. You could tell by how amazed he looked as he eyed everything with his mouth hanging open.
"Wow it...it's b-big!" he declared, stumbling towards the fridges.
"Frankie! Don't touch anything, let Gerard pick what you both need." my mother took hold of the boy and made him walk in between her and the shopping cart. That way Frankie had something to steady him and his hands occupied at the same time; but she was the one really pushing the cart.
"Wh-what do the l-little signs s-say?" he pointed at the huge fridge by his side.
"Well, different things. Yogurt, milk, cheese..." I named. "...and the prices."
"Ahh. C-can we get ch-cheese? I l-like cheese!"
"But this is cheese to spread on toasts or cookies."
"Oh...th-then no. W-want real ch-cheese."
"I'll get some as soon as I see it." I promised.
Many more times Frankie wanted to know what the signs said, several times he tried to touch everything and my mother had to tell him to stay quiet; but he was really happy to see something new. That happiness would only leave him every time people looked at him -some even stared- or just stood too close. He then would hid his face against me and stay like that for a couple of minutes.
"T-too many p-people...d-don't like so m-many people." he mumbled.
"Don't worry, they won't do anything bad to you." I calmed him. He detached himself from me, but brushed his extra-long fringe forward so it covered his face.
"Frankie...get your hair out of your face, honey." mom demanded, yet in a kind tone.
"N-no, they'll s-see me!"
"They see you the same." I said.
"B-but they don't s-see my face. " he clarified.
Without a word, I took him to the clothes section. I chose a red cap and put it on his head, making sure it kept the hair out of his face.
"Next time you do that, you're getting a haircut." I menaced him, near to losing my patience.
"N-NO!" he screamed.
"Then show your face, kid! You're very pretty, so you have nothing to be afraid of." my mother assured him.
"B-but...the...my...wh-what if someone l-laughs?" he doubted.
"If someone laughs, I'll kick their asses." I whispered my answer in his ear.
He hugged me and whispered back. "L-love you."
"What's all this secrecy?" mom got curious.
"Uh...nothing important. I told him that if someone makes fun of him I'll kick their asses and Frankie...he said 'kick them hard'" I lied. My mother just chuckled.
"G-gee...can I go w-with them? W-wanna make f-friends." Frank asked. I glanced to where he had pointed and saw two boys about 15 years old talking to each other. Something told me it wasn't a good idea; but as my mother and I looked at each other questioningly, I considered that it wasn't fair to stop Frank from being sociable when he felt like it.
She escorted him there and stayed rather close. I observed the scene from far away, too worried to continue with my task of grabbing the needed goods.
The kids were laughing when Frankie approached them. He greeted them and they seemed to be conversing for a while. More laughs were heard and my blood was boiling. My mom raised a hand, telling me to wait. Suddenly, we saw Frankie jump into one of the kids throwing him to the ground. When we got there, he was biting that boy while the second one had Frank by the hair, his cap having fallen off. A woman -who I presumed was the mother of one of the kids- showed up cursing. I didn't pay attention to her, I was trying to separate Frankie from his rival.
"That savage attacked my son!" were the only words I could make out.
"He's not a savage, he's mentally ill." my mother tried an apology.
"Then keep him away from public places." the woman retorted.
" What you just said...was out of place and idiotic." mom spat angrily, making the other shut up.
"FRANK, STOP!" I called him.
"B-BUT TELL HIM TO L-LET GO OF MY H-HAIR!" he screamed. Once the kid complied, Frankie stood up and kicked his leg before he could get on his feet.
"Oh my God, I'll call security!" the boy's mother cried out furiously.
"Don't call anyone, we'll leave. Anyway it was their fault, they made fun of Frankie. I heard them laugh at the way he walked, at his eyes and how he speaks. So shut up, you have no right to complain." my mother took Frank's hand and walked away. I picked up the cap and followed them to the next section. Again, I admired my mother.
**********
Once we were home and my mom had left, Frankie went to the bedroom and, reaching into his backpack, he retrieved his teddy bear. It was the first time since I'd met him. So far his 'puppy' had seemed to replace it. He hadn't stopped seeing the dog yet and had even 'fed him' that same morning, but he'd not talked so much about him lately.
I wondered what had triggered that sudden need for his toy. Was it what had happened at the supermarket? Did those kids remind him of the ones at the institution who'd make fun of him?
He turned the TV on and sank into the couch quietly, hugging the shabby bear tightly and without speaking a single word.
"Are you ok, Frankie?" I asked.
"Y-yeah." he simply responded. Unwillingly, I decided not to bother him for a while.
Since we had brought prepared food, I didn't need to cook. I thought of what I could do to kill time and Ray's suggestion came to my mind. What if I made those phone calls? I had always been rather shy. The thought of calling people I didn't know to ask them about a boy most of them probably didn't know either, wasn't something I was desperate to do. But trying wouldn't hurt me.
I seized the directory from below the coffee table and went right to the 'i' section. I skipped the pages until I spotted the last name 'Iero'. With a pencil, I made a small mark next to each person. I sighed in relief when I saw there were only six Ieros there. I nervously grabbed the phone, determined to do it.
The first two calls were futile, for no one answered. I drew crosses as a reminder to try those again later.
"I know no one by the name of Frank." said an unfriendly man voice on the other side of the line. Name number three was ticked off.
For call number four a woman answered, a young one from what her voice told me.
"Uh...hello. Do you know an 18 year-old boy named Frank?" I repeated my question.
"Well, my uncle and cousin are both called Frank, but one's 50 and the other's 27. So I guess I can't help you." she replied politely.
"Thank you anyway. Bye!"
The fifth Iero family only included a 5 year old Frank. So far, I was thankful that no one had hung up on me.
When I was about to call the last name from the list, I noticed Frankie sitting in front of the wall. From where I was, I couldn't distinguish what he was doing. I went to check, alarmed that he could hit his head -something he hadn't done again since medicated. But no, he'd been drawing on the wall with a coin again, scratching the light paint and revealing the much darker, brown red that had once decorated it. Highly noticeable.
But it wasn't the doubtable style-sense of who used to live there before that froze me. It was what Frankie had drawn: a big heart -or at least something that resembled one- inside of which it read 'Frankie and Gee' in shaky, irregular capital letters.
Frank perceived me looking and turned to me smiling, proud of his work. I was deeply moved, yet at the same time worried.
"Oh my God, Frankie...that is...so sweet. But...why so big, baby?"
"'C-cause this b-big I can r-read it too!" he explained.
"You know we'll have to cover it, right? Otherwise we won't have our secret anymore." I hoped I wouldn't hurt his feelings.
"Y-yeah, I know." he nodded understandingly. He'd surprise me too often. "B-but only if someone c-comes!"
"Only if someone comes."
******
Later, I called the last Iero. The man told me with a painful voice that Frank was the name of his recently deceased father. I apologized, feeling like shit. Why was it that every Iero family seemed to have a Frank? I went back to the first name, and this time a woman answered. And old, tired voice with an Italian accent.
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am. Would you happen to know a boy called Frank? Frank Anthony?" I let out the question. I heard her make a sound at the back of her throat. "Do you know him?"
"How curious. It's the name of the little bastard that my son accepted as his. Sad coincidence..." she spoke. A weird sensation filled me.
"How old is he?" I pushed. She took a while to reply.
"Well, he'd be 18 if he was alive, but he died when he was 4. Maybe it was better that way, I didn't want my son maintaining a kid that most probably wasn't his. That girl was a whore, and I'm sure the child was retarded or something." the woman commented. Hearing all that told me that she could be the right person, as much as the facts didn't exactly made sense. Dead at 4?
I was going to ask more, but the woman appeared to have a sudden need to spill it all out. Some old people had that habit of not being able to stop once they'd start talking. Sometimes, for example, they'd relate their whole life to strangers on the bus. Maybe this person lived alone, with usually no one to converse with.
"That girl broke up with my son when the baby was born, so he'd only see him once in a while. But one day he managed to snatch the kid and he brought him here for some hours. I don't know what for, I didn't want to see him. That creature was 2 years old and hadn't even attempted to walk. All he'd do was cry, not a single word." That last thing she said convinced me even more, thinking of what the doctor had told me about Frank's brain damage.
"When should I call to find your son?"
"He doesn't live here anymore." she answered.
"Would you tell me where he lives?"
"No idea. After that single time when I saw the little rat my son had to...eh...leave town for two years. It was when he came back that the bitch told him the kid had died. Then my son disappeared. I was told he started a band somewhere and they travel to play, but they're not really known. He's never called me again." she sounded annoyed already.
"Could you give me some kind of information to find that woman? The kid's mother?"
"Why do you care?" she questioned rudely.
"Oh I...work in a hospital, and we found something about the kid in a database. I have some things to ask her. Your son's not gonna get involved in anything, I promise." I lied. I'd been doing that a lot lately.
"I gave you enough information already, young man." she stated and hung up. Just when I was on the track. I tried the second name of the list just in case, but found nothing of help.
"FUCK!" I screamed angrily, walking past Frankie -who stood in the middle of the corridor- and into the kitchen. No qualms this time. I opened the fridge and my hands gripped a can of beer greedily. Opening it and starting to drink from it didn't take me much longer. I knew I should have never bought it, but I was weak and had thought that one wasn't bad. It made me feel safe. In my reasoning, this single can assured me that I'd have something to resort to if I got too desperate, instead of running out to maybe buy something worse.
"Wh-what's that? C-can I t-try it?" Frankie asked childly, sitting on a chair beside me. His voice made my frustration relent.
"No baby, you can't drink from this." I banned him. This held him back for a second, but then he surprised me by kissing my lips and licking his afterwards. I couldn't believe how sexy he looked doing that.
"T-tastes...funny..." he shuddered. "Ew."
"You know what? Yes, it does taste funny. Let's do something..." I got up and threw the half-full can into a trash bag, taking a can of Coke Zero out of the fridge this time.
"Y-yeah, gimme!"
"Wait..." I added the straw. "Here you are."
"Frankie...have you been to school?" I inquired while we shared the Coke. "You know how schools are like, don't you?"
"Y-yeah, s-saw them in m-movies. D-didn't go t-to one. N-no." he shook his head.
"But you know how to read and write..."
"Y-yes. A...a m-man came and t-teached us." he made me smile.
"It's taught us" I corrected him.
"Oh, y-yeah...he t-taught us."
"How was that?" I was willing to know.
"W-was in the s-same room when we a-ate and most kids w-were younger than m-me. And...and h-he teach...t-taught us how to w-write and r-read and then c-calculations but I was b-bad at it. C-couldn't do them."
"That was it? He didn't teach you anything more?"
"T-to other k-kids, but n-not to me. One...one d-day he t-told me to go to my r-room 'cause couldn't learn an-anymore." he recalled. Not even in that place they had the patience?
"Why?"
"I...t-told Grace and she as-asked him." Frank chewed on the straw distractedly. "H-he's not only c-crazy, he's also r-retarded." he added monotonously, his voice sounding kind of different.
"That man said that?"
"Y-yeah. I...I'M N-NOT! J-JUST SPECIAL, F-FUCK!" he shouted, punching the table.
"Of course you're not, baby. That man was an asshole, he knew nothing. Shh, we won't talk about that anymore, it's ok." I held him and kissed his cheek.
"G-grace taught me s-some things with b-books...'bout an-animals." he whispered.
"I'll buy you a big book with lots of pictures and information about animals and we'll read it together when you can see better. You'd like that?"
"Y-yes!"
The phone rang, interrupting the moment. I felt that it was important to answer, though.
"Yes?"
"We talked earlier...about that Frank kid?" it was the old woman. Why was she calling back?
"Yeah, what...?"
"I've been thinking. It sounds like that whore might be in trouble from what you told me?"
"Well...I'm only in charge of calling and trying to find out, but I guess she might be if something's not too clear about the kid's death." I made up, catching the woman's intentions.
"That's what I thought! And I'd actually love to get her in trouble. Got a pen? I'll tell you where she used to live. I don't think she's still there, but someone might help you find her. All I know is her first name: Linda."
"Ok, tell me." I tried to hide my excitement, paper and pencil in hand.
The woman hung up right after telling me the address. The place was approximately a three-hours ride away. If that had once been Frank's home, it was a real mystery how he ended up in a mental institution so far from it. But I'd find out.
CHAPTER 22
Born into somewhere unseen and unknown,
just like a wonder so small and alone.
Take me away into your innocent dreams,
maybe I'd see what it all means.
If I had followed my impulses, I would have left right then and gone to the address the woman had given to me; but I took a moment to think instead. That day was discarded, since it was already night. If I went the following day after work, it'd be night by the time I got there. That wasn't a good idea idea if I expected to find someone who could help me, it's a fact that people trust strangers even less at night. Therefore I decided that the best alternative was to wait until the weekend.
Now, I was just hoping my anxiety wouldn't lead me to do stupid things. I was finding it hard to not give in to some alcohol once in a while. Even with just a little beer that wouldn't get me drunk -like a moment ago- I was still putting myself in risk and Frankie together with me. I needed to be more careful, because my actions directly affected the boy.
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