Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Sanctuary's End: Cries of Anarchy Under the New Moon ❯ A Legend Life ( Chapter 3 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: AngelicWinter 
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Fantasy / Sci-fi / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.06.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 278 | Status: Work In Progress
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Drama / Fantasy / Sci-fi / Supernatural | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.06.2012 | Pages: 3 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 278 | Status: Work In Progress
"I'm sorry son, but I've got to let you go." A man said plainly.
Revel swallowed hard at the statement.
"Mr. Novoa I swear, this is my last time being late. I had to take my mother to the clinic again and-“
The man raised his hand, cutting Revel off.
"The world is full of people making excuses about this and that. At the end of the day, nobody cares. I don't get paid if I don't come into work. And I never, not get paid."
Mr. Novoa leaned back in his chair. He was a man of average build and looks.
"Man, I'm just trying to explain myself so that you understand."
Revel grimaced at the lack of consideration that was given to him. Truthfully, he'd been late three times in the past month. Each time he had a valid excuse. What were a couple minutes anyway, when you're a janitor?
"No, I don't think you see where I'm coming from, Mr. Neferkare," He pulled out a cigar and lit it. "My parents came here from Cuba with nothing more than baby, the clothes their backs, and a dream."
Mr. Novoa took any opportunity to talk about how he came from nothing and now had it all; Novoa's Janitorial Company. He was utterly enamored by the ingenuity of his parents and their promise for a better life.
"Possibly, maybe, one day you'll understand," he took a drag of the cigar. "Your last check is in the mail. You'll have it by Friday."
"Alright then."
Revel stood up from the hard wooden chair and exited the small office. Now, what was he going to do? He needed this job but more so he needed the money.
He made his way out of the towering building. The sweet aroma of rain wafted under his nose. Earlier while working, he heard people talking about the random fog roaming over Michigan. Mr. Novoa's radio said the dense fog appeared out of nowhere and must have rolled off the lake.
All he had was an old tan jacket his mother bought him three years ago; at that time he was a sophomore in high school. Now, the sleeves only covered half of his forearms and the middle of his back. Money was tight. Fortunately, he managed to still fit in it. Revel was average height, athletic with a dark olive skin tone, a strong jawline and ethnic features.
Perhaps he could use it to shield him if it rained. After all, he still had on his dark green jumpsuit and brown suede boots that he wore for a work uniform.
He found his way walking down 23rd street. It was where the better half lived in their town homes and beautiful black gates that seemed more like decoration than defense mechanisms. The area both amused and disheartened him.
There was one house with actual gold trim on the gate and a B.M.W in the drive way. The car looked just as pristine every time he saw it. Revel walked past this house at least twice a week after work. He wondered what it would be like to live there. To be the person that drove the unsullied vehicle. Whether he would use regular or premium? No matter how he envisioned it he typically left more upset than not, believing he would never live such a legend life.
The tapping of rain drops shook him from the thought. His eyes looked up to the sky catching a glimpse of the gloomy clouds. The street lights flickered on in response. Revel ran to the train station and boarded the red line. He sat there looking out dirty window.
When Bur Bank came up he jumped up and got off. This side of town was nothing like 23rd street. People paced the streets constantly and more than likely there was always someone fighting or cursing. Revel hated calling this home but hated even more that he found it comforting. Here, people were honest with you. They showed what they were about from the start.
There were a lot of abandoned houses and boarded up buildings in his neighborhood. On every other corner was a vacant lot filled with broken glass and rocks. A growl in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day. He could always count on Blue's diner being open.
Inside Blue's was six tables with two chairs each and a counter surrounded by bullet proof glass. Two people were already inside standing against the wall when he walked in; they must have placed their order in already.
He leaned on the counter excitedly, trying to figure out what he had a taste for. In his wallet he had about 30 dollars.
"Aye," Knocking on the glass like a secret code to a door. "Big Juan!"
A pudgy Puerto Rican man with a white apron came walking to the counter.
"Quit banging on the glass, fool. What do you want?"
A wide smile spread across Revel's medium sized lips.
"Let me get, uh, a five piece chicken wing with mild sauce, hot sauce and a blue mystic."
Big Juan placed the order in the register and then rang him up for 7.35. Money was exchanged, and then Big Juan went in the back to cook the food. Eight minutes later Revel's order was up. He took the plastic bag, containing his food and beverage, and left for home.
It took him five minutes to walk three and a half blocks. He pressed the buzzer to his large brown bricked apartment building. His mother didn't answer. She must have gone down to Ms. Sander's house. Reluctantly, he went around to the back and climbed up the fire escape. He kept his window slightly cracked for days like this.
Thirty minutes passed and she still wasn't home. He ate half his food. The rest he put in the refrigerator for his mother. They didn't have much food in the house. Just a few can goods, some bologna, and a pack of hot dogs.
Revel decided to see if he could make some extra cash at Farmhouse grocery. He drank the rest of his juice and went back out. The rain had stopped but it was still cloudy.
Farmhouse was the only grocery store his neighborhood had, besides a corner store; he applied to work for them years back but they wouldn't hire him because he didn't have a high school diploma. The night shift assistant managers would let him work a shift occasionally. It was easy to sneak him in there because they were always short staffed. They paid him under the table.
The store was five blocks over from his house. You could always tell how close you were by how bright the neon barn sign appeared. At night they kept the door locked so you had to bang for them to hear you. Revel hoped for the regular night shift manager guy or the older bossy lady that was there on rarely. Instead a guy who looked about Revel's age came strolling out.
Revel remembered working alongside him one night. The guy was short, pasty with red hair and pimples on his face. When the guy spotted Revel he slowed in his stride.
He mouthed through the glass to the guy, "You remember who I am, right?" Revel despised having to stand there pleadingly.
The guy just stared at his face like he couldn't quite put the clues together. Then cautiously stepped to the door, lifted the lock and cracked it open.
"Thanks man," Revel stepped forward but the guy didn't move nor did he open the door more. "Almost thought you forgot about my little agreement with Mark."
The fiery locks bounced as the guy shook his head in defiance.
"Come on, man. I just need a break right now. I could clean the windows, mop the floor, whatever."
"Look, I can't let you in. If I could I would but management is cracking down on us about some missing petty cash. Sorry."
He refused. Closing the door and locking it in Revel's face.
"Ahh, just one more--Okay, forget it then," he gruffed. Down the trash littered streets he walked. In need of clarity, he set off for the strip club. Surprisingly, the strip club named, Goldie Locks was on a popular street. It was six blocks away on Ivory Drive.
Revel tried to follow suit behind a couple of guys. The club security guard, Bo-bo, stopped him.
"Bo-bo, quit playing," He joked pretending like they were playing a game. "You too crazy."
The security guard stared. "I.D?"
"What? Man, I come here all the time."
Revel snuck in once before through the side door while someone took the trash out. What did it matter what his I.D. said? He just turned twenty last Wednesday, what's one more year?
"You think I don't I have any money?"
Revel shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled out his wallet. In it he had a twenty and a couple singles. Too bad it was for his mother’s medicine and some groceries. He frowned.
"Never mind. I'mma go to that new spot down on the West end anyway." He lied. "Better service!"
On the way back home he came upon three boys he went to high school with. They too had dropped out, a year before him and of their own volition. Their clothes looked better than his and they had new gym shoes.
"Yooo, ain't that Fossil. I think it is. Fossil!" One of the trio shouted.
He got the nickname back in sixth grade because he was the only kid hanging on the corner chatting it up with O. G's (original gangsters).
Normally, Revel would have avoided them but it had been a long day. What could it hurt?
"What's up, Ronnie, Mac, Duce?"
"Money, that's what's up. If you looking for a good time, we got it all." Duce spurted through a lisp.
"Naw, I'm good, man."
"Well, what you want then?"
Revel looked down and then rubbed his chin as if he was weighing decisions in his head.
"Y'all got the new LK27's already?"
Ronnie smirked. "Yep yep, my dude. These joints old to us now."
"I heard they like 300 a pop," He stood looking at them yearningly. "I was gone get em' but you know."
The trio looked at each other then back at him.
"If you looking to make some real money just say so. We could hook you up with a job." Mac stated.
Revel wanted so badly to say, "Yes," but his mom would kill him.
"I'm good. Stay up y'all."
The boy's looked at him oddly as if he spoke another language.
After following someone into his building, he entered the door his apartment. The agonizing sound of his mother coughing rang in his ears.
"You alright, ma?"
A short, pale woman with dark hair sat in a chair threading a needle.
"Oh, I'm alright." She had a soft raspy voice. How was work?"
He lied again. "Good."
The woman cleared her throat trying to hold back another cough.
"Ms. Sanders made some chicken and noodles. I brought you a plate home. It's in the refrigerator."
"Thanks but I ate at work. Mr. Novoa bought everybody pizza again."
Revel ran his fingers through his wavy crop of hair.
"That's nice of him," Looking up from her needle at him. "Third time in two weeks."
"Ya, well I'm tired. I'm just going to go to bed."
His mother continued to sit in the chair sowing his old jeans.
He struggled to sleep. The sound of his mother continuously coughing echoed through the thin walls. He saddled on the decision to take Mac up on his offer. They had bills to pay and his mother's little disability check only covered so much. Besides, it was quick and easy cash.
Revel grabbed his grey hoodie and slipped it over his head on top of his white beater, some dark blue jeans, his boots and a tiger cub faced hat. He placed the hat on his head then climbed out the window.
Back to Perry Boulevard he'd go to see the trio. Revel didn't want to but what choice did he really have? He had no job and his check wasn't coming for another four days.
Somewhere in between leaving his apartment and heading to Perry the fog picked up and thickened around him. So much for that short cut through Miller Park did him. The fog felt strange, warm even, on his skin. He kept walking figuring he couldn't be too far from the exit. Something glowed in front of him.
"About time." He murmured. Thinking it must be a street light.
The closer he got the more he noticed the hue seemed less orange and more purple. It moved, danced almost. Just as the light was about to come into view his leg gave out causing him to stumble. His form fell from sight into the blinding ocean of fog.
Revel swallowed hard at the statement.
"Mr. Novoa I swear, this is my last time being late. I had to take my mother to the clinic again and-“
The man raised his hand, cutting Revel off.
"The world is full of people making excuses about this and that. At the end of the day, nobody cares. I don't get paid if I don't come into work. And I never, not get paid."
Mr. Novoa leaned back in his chair. He was a man of average build and looks.
"Man, I'm just trying to explain myself so that you understand."
Revel grimaced at the lack of consideration that was given to him. Truthfully, he'd been late three times in the past month. Each time he had a valid excuse. What were a couple minutes anyway, when you're a janitor?
"No, I don't think you see where I'm coming from, Mr. Neferkare," He pulled out a cigar and lit it. "My parents came here from Cuba with nothing more than baby, the clothes their backs, and a dream."
Mr. Novoa took any opportunity to talk about how he came from nothing and now had it all; Novoa's Janitorial Company. He was utterly enamored by the ingenuity of his parents and their promise for a better life.
"Possibly, maybe, one day you'll understand," he took a drag of the cigar. "Your last check is in the mail. You'll have it by Friday."
"Alright then."
Revel stood up from the hard wooden chair and exited the small office. Now, what was he going to do? He needed this job but more so he needed the money.
He made his way out of the towering building. The sweet aroma of rain wafted under his nose. Earlier while working, he heard people talking about the random fog roaming over Michigan. Mr. Novoa's radio said the dense fog appeared out of nowhere and must have rolled off the lake.
All he had was an old tan jacket his mother bought him three years ago; at that time he was a sophomore in high school. Now, the sleeves only covered half of his forearms and the middle of his back. Money was tight. Fortunately, he managed to still fit in it. Revel was average height, athletic with a dark olive skin tone, a strong jawline and ethnic features.
Perhaps he could use it to shield him if it rained. After all, he still had on his dark green jumpsuit and brown suede boots that he wore for a work uniform.
He found his way walking down 23rd street. It was where the better half lived in their town homes and beautiful black gates that seemed more like decoration than defense mechanisms. The area both amused and disheartened him.
There was one house with actual gold trim on the gate and a B.M.W in the drive way. The car looked just as pristine every time he saw it. Revel walked past this house at least twice a week after work. He wondered what it would be like to live there. To be the person that drove the unsullied vehicle. Whether he would use regular or premium? No matter how he envisioned it he typically left more upset than not, believing he would never live such a legend life.
The tapping of rain drops shook him from the thought. His eyes looked up to the sky catching a glimpse of the gloomy clouds. The street lights flickered on in response. Revel ran to the train station and boarded the red line. He sat there looking out dirty window.
When Bur Bank came up he jumped up and got off. This side of town was nothing like 23rd street. People paced the streets constantly and more than likely there was always someone fighting or cursing. Revel hated calling this home but hated even more that he found it comforting. Here, people were honest with you. They showed what they were about from the start.
There were a lot of abandoned houses and boarded up buildings in his neighborhood. On every other corner was a vacant lot filled with broken glass and rocks. A growl in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day. He could always count on Blue's diner being open.
Inside Blue's was six tables with two chairs each and a counter surrounded by bullet proof glass. Two people were already inside standing against the wall when he walked in; they must have placed their order in already.
He leaned on the counter excitedly, trying to figure out what he had a taste for. In his wallet he had about 30 dollars.
"Aye," Knocking on the glass like a secret code to a door. "Big Juan!"
A pudgy Puerto Rican man with a white apron came walking to the counter.
"Quit banging on the glass, fool. What do you want?"
A wide smile spread across Revel's medium sized lips.
"Let me get, uh, a five piece chicken wing with mild sauce, hot sauce and a blue mystic."
Big Juan placed the order in the register and then rang him up for 7.35. Money was exchanged, and then Big Juan went in the back to cook the food. Eight minutes later Revel's order was up. He took the plastic bag, containing his food and beverage, and left for home.
It took him five minutes to walk three and a half blocks. He pressed the buzzer to his large brown bricked apartment building. His mother didn't answer. She must have gone down to Ms. Sander's house. Reluctantly, he went around to the back and climbed up the fire escape. He kept his window slightly cracked for days like this.
Thirty minutes passed and she still wasn't home. He ate half his food. The rest he put in the refrigerator for his mother. They didn't have much food in the house. Just a few can goods, some bologna, and a pack of hot dogs.
Revel decided to see if he could make some extra cash at Farmhouse grocery. He drank the rest of his juice and went back out. The rain had stopped but it was still cloudy.
Farmhouse was the only grocery store his neighborhood had, besides a corner store; he applied to work for them years back but they wouldn't hire him because he didn't have a high school diploma. The night shift assistant managers would let him work a shift occasionally. It was easy to sneak him in there because they were always short staffed. They paid him under the table.
The store was five blocks over from his house. You could always tell how close you were by how bright the neon barn sign appeared. At night they kept the door locked so you had to bang for them to hear you. Revel hoped for the regular night shift manager guy or the older bossy lady that was there on rarely. Instead a guy who looked about Revel's age came strolling out.
Revel remembered working alongside him one night. The guy was short, pasty with red hair and pimples on his face. When the guy spotted Revel he slowed in his stride.
He mouthed through the glass to the guy, "You remember who I am, right?" Revel despised having to stand there pleadingly.
The guy just stared at his face like he couldn't quite put the clues together. Then cautiously stepped to the door, lifted the lock and cracked it open.
"Thanks man," Revel stepped forward but the guy didn't move nor did he open the door more. "Almost thought you forgot about my little agreement with Mark."
The fiery locks bounced as the guy shook his head in defiance.
"Come on, man. I just need a break right now. I could clean the windows, mop the floor, whatever."
"Look, I can't let you in. If I could I would but management is cracking down on us about some missing petty cash. Sorry."
He refused. Closing the door and locking it in Revel's face.
"Ahh, just one more--Okay, forget it then," he gruffed. Down the trash littered streets he walked. In need of clarity, he set off for the strip club. Surprisingly, the strip club named, Goldie Locks was on a popular street. It was six blocks away on Ivory Drive.
Revel tried to follow suit behind a couple of guys. The club security guard, Bo-bo, stopped him.
"Bo-bo, quit playing," He joked pretending like they were playing a game. "You too crazy."
The security guard stared. "I.D?"
"What? Man, I come here all the time."
Revel snuck in once before through the side door while someone took the trash out. What did it matter what his I.D. said? He just turned twenty last Wednesday, what's one more year?
"You think I don't I have any money?"
Revel shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled out his wallet. In it he had a twenty and a couple singles. Too bad it was for his mother’s medicine and some groceries. He frowned.
"Never mind. I'mma go to that new spot down on the West end anyway." He lied. "Better service!"
On the way back home he came upon three boys he went to high school with. They too had dropped out, a year before him and of their own volition. Their clothes looked better than his and they had new gym shoes.
"Yooo, ain't that Fossil. I think it is. Fossil!" One of the trio shouted.
He got the nickname back in sixth grade because he was the only kid hanging on the corner chatting it up with O. G's (original gangsters).
Normally, Revel would have avoided them but it had been a long day. What could it hurt?
"What's up, Ronnie, Mac, Duce?"
"Money, that's what's up. If you looking for a good time, we got it all." Duce spurted through a lisp.
"Naw, I'm good, man."
"Well, what you want then?"
Revel looked down and then rubbed his chin as if he was weighing decisions in his head.
"Y'all got the new LK27's already?"
Ronnie smirked. "Yep yep, my dude. These joints old to us now."
"I heard they like 300 a pop," He stood looking at them yearningly. "I was gone get em' but you know."
The trio looked at each other then back at him.
"If you looking to make some real money just say so. We could hook you up with a job." Mac stated.
Revel wanted so badly to say, "Yes," but his mom would kill him.
"I'm good. Stay up y'all."
The boy's looked at him oddly as if he spoke another language.
After following someone into his building, he entered the door his apartment. The agonizing sound of his mother coughing rang in his ears.
"You alright, ma?"
A short, pale woman with dark hair sat in a chair threading a needle.
"Oh, I'm alright." She had a soft raspy voice. How was work?"
He lied again. "Good."
The woman cleared her throat trying to hold back another cough.
"Ms. Sanders made some chicken and noodles. I brought you a plate home. It's in the refrigerator."
"Thanks but I ate at work. Mr. Novoa bought everybody pizza again."
Revel ran his fingers through his wavy crop of hair.
"That's nice of him," Looking up from her needle at him. "Third time in two weeks."
"Ya, well I'm tired. I'm just going to go to bed."
His mother continued to sit in the chair sowing his old jeans.
He struggled to sleep. The sound of his mother continuously coughing echoed through the thin walls. He saddled on the decision to take Mac up on his offer. They had bills to pay and his mother's little disability check only covered so much. Besides, it was quick and easy cash.
Revel grabbed his grey hoodie and slipped it over his head on top of his white beater, some dark blue jeans, his boots and a tiger cub faced hat. He placed the hat on his head then climbed out the window.
Back to Perry Boulevard he'd go to see the trio. Revel didn't want to but what choice did he really have? He had no job and his check wasn't coming for another four days.
Somewhere in between leaving his apartment and heading to Perry the fog picked up and thickened around him. So much for that short cut through Miller Park did him. The fog felt strange, warm even, on his skin. He kept walking figuring he couldn't be too far from the exit. Something glowed in front of him.
"About time." He murmured. Thinking it must be a street light.
The closer he got the more he noticed the hue seemed less orange and more purple. It moved, danced almost. Just as the light was about to come into view his leg gave out causing him to stumble. His form fell from sight into the blinding ocean of fog.