Burn Time

I pulled back the sheet that served as a curtain for Ellen's front window of her single wide trailer and watched as Mom and Dad pulled away. The old Ford trailed a haze of blue exhaust in the late July afternoon, probably from the sugar I'd dumped into the gas tank earlier. My older brother, Ned, and my little sister, Marnie, stared forlornly out the back window. I couldn't see if they were crying or not but if one of them was, it was probably Ned. He was kind of a wuss. Marnie was pretty tough. She had to be. All of us did what with the way things were between Mom and Dad.

I turned to my friend, Ankad. What do you think? I asked. Being stuck here? With Ellen?

It sucks, man, he said. He pointed a thumb toward the kitchen. The bastards sticking you with that old bat? It sucks big time.

I smiled. Good old Ankad. He was my best friend. He always got where I was coming from. I totally agree, I told him. I couldn't have said it any better myself.

He smiled and bowed. At your service, pardner.

I smiled at him. Right on.

I took a deep breath to try and calm down. I hated the predicament I was in. Seven years old. Left alone with, as Ankad so succinctly put it, that old bat. For who knew how long? I was starting to see red. Not a good sign given what my doctors called, my "anger issues."

Ellen's voice from the kitchen pulled at my thoughts. "Corey, get your butt in here and have something to eat."

Mom had sent me to our next-door neighbor while she took off with my dad and brother and sister. She'd done that before, left with my dad and my siblings and taken off. Sometimes for an afternoon. Sometimes overnight. Once they were gone for a couple of days. Days me and Ankad really enjoyed to tell the truth.

I let the sheet fall back and turned toward the aforementioned 'old bat'. "I'm not hungry," I yelled.

"Too bad." Ellen's voice ratcheted up a couple of notches. "I said, GET IN HERE NOW!"

BOOM! Suddenly, my mind exploded. An explosion of red.

I looked at Ankad. He raised his eyebrows. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Do it, bro.

Well, okay, then.

"All right. I'm coming."

I shuffled across the threadbare carpeting (Ellen was as poor as us) and into the tiny kitchen. She pointed to a bent metal chair at a round card table. "Sit."

I sat.

She poured a bowl of fruit loops and gave it to me. "Here," she said. Then she handed me a container of milk. "You can pour your own. She looked at me. "Don't take too much. I ain't got a lot of money." She leaned back against the counter and lit up a Marlboro. She blew a plume of smoke at the ceil and pointed at me. "Go ahead. Pour. Eat."

I pushed the container of milk aside. She'd been Mom's best friend for as long as I could remember. But too bad. She was no friend of mine.

I picked up the bowl and turned it over and dumped out the cereal. Fruit Loops spilled onto the table and rolled to the floor.

I looked at Ellen. "I said that I wasn't hungry."

Then I poured the carton of milk all over the cereal, both on the table and on the floor. I used up all the rest of her precious milk to do it. It made quite the mess.

My friend, Ankad, smirked. Nice one, bro.

Thanks, I told him.

Then I turned my attention to Ellen.

She made a move to grab me and (I'm sure) shake some sense into my bony body. Good luck with that. I might have been skinny, but I was fast. I jumped to my feet, pushed her out of the way, ran from the kitchen and out the back door. I felt in the front pocket of my jeans for my matches. I smiled. They were still there. Good.

I ran to the back of our house, got on my bike and peddled away. The plan was formulating in my brain minute by minute. Here's what I came up with: I was going to hide out in the woods at the end of the street until later that night. Then, I'd sneak back. Me and Ankad. And my matches. I'd show my mom and dad they couldn't treat me like they did. Ellen, too, for being such a bitch. I'd get back at all of them. Burn time was only a few hours away.

***

My shrink, Dr. Ben Layton liked the stories I told him. And he liked my burn time one, too. I'd been seeing him for a couple of months at the Rolling Acers Care Facility where I'm now living. He's my fourth shrink. I'm fifteen now, not a stupid little seven-year-old like back on the day Mom and Dad took off with Ned and Marnie. The day Mom and Dad and Cal were killed in a car accident on the day when I'd been stuck with Ellen.

On the day that, things started to get a little rough for me.

After Mom and Dad and Cal died, Marnie went to stay with my mom's sister, my Aunt Rose. (She didn't want to have anything to do with me.) I went into the system and to a series of foster homes; four to be exact. The same number as the shrinks I've seen. Ironic? Maybe. But each foster family coincided with a new bunch of kids to torment, a new school and a new teacher to torment, and a new bunch of classmates to torment.

Tormenting people kind of became my thing. Me and Ankad.

Like I said, I have anger issues and each of the shrinks tried to help me. Tried to 'even me out,' as they say. Honestly? I was not interested in 'evening out.' Not back then, and I'm still not now. Interested, that is.

I've got Ankad and he's my best (and only) friend. He's on my wavelength. It was him who told me that my first shrink Ms. Hoyle had it coming when I tried to put my patented sleeper hold on her. It was right after the car accident. How was I to know the doctor lady would smash her head on the corner of her desk when she collapsed? Not to mention bleed so much?

But, hey, I'm a survivor. Through it all, my friend Ankad has stayed with me right by my side. I don't know what I'd have done without him.

It's me and you, bro, he tells me. We're a team. The two of us. Through thick and thin, No matter what.

I like that thinking. It's nice to know someone gets me. That someone is in my corner. Which brings me back to Rolling Acers. Like I said, I've been living here for two months, talking to Dr. Layton. He likes me to tell him my stories, but he hasn't helped me one little bit.

My biggest issue with the good doctor is that he thinks my friend, Ankad, is what he says is a 'figment of my imagination.'

"He's made up, Corey," he said yesterday, after my most recent visit. "You've conjured him up to help compensate for the loss of your parents."

I looked at Ankad who was standing right next to me, keeping me company and listening. He just shook his head. What a jerk, he said.

Really, I told him. No kidding.

I looked at my shrink. "That's simply not true, Doctor Layton. Ankad was my friend even before they died."

I watched as the doctor made a note. Then he looked at me and smiled. "We've got a lot to talk about, Corey. I'm going to do all I can to help you."

Well, that just sucks. I don't need any help. Ankad and I are a team. He's my bro.

I shook my head metaphorically at the doctor's misguided statement. I may have to do my sleeper hold on him, just to teach him a lesson.

Ankad thinks I should.

He told me after that visit. Go from it bro. The jerk deserves it.

You know what? I just might.

Oh, and speaking of my stories that Doctor Layton likes so much. You know Mom's friend Ellen?

Her house caught on fire later that night.

She didn't make it.

Ankad said that she deserved it. You know what? I agree.

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