“I think so,” the boy said. “I want my mommy.”
She continued to pat the boy on the head, taking his hand in hers. “Well, I’m not your mommy but I’m sure I can find her for you. Would you like me to do that?”
The kid sniffled and nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Tyler,” he squeaked out.
She gave him a kind smile then looked over at me.
“Dex, can you look after him while I find his mother?”
Uh. Fuck no?
“Don’t look so scared,” she hissed under her breath, glaring at me while she led the boy my way. I felt like I was stuck to the ground. “He needs to stay here in case his mother is looking for him.”
My mouth flapped open but no sounds came out. Perry deposited the boy at my feet and the two of us stared at each other uneasily.
She quickly patted me on the shoulder and with the same soothing tone she had given the Nazgul, said, “I’m just going to the cashier to let them make an announcement, I’ll be right back.”
And just like that, Perry left and I was put in charge of some stranger’s snotty, strange child.
A child that was starting to cry again.
“So your name is Tyler, huh?” I said in an extremely feeble attempt at conversation. “That’s a good name.”
Tyler continued to cry. He was starting to attract the attention of people passing by. This wouldn’t look good. I was wearing a Black Flag t-shirt and combat boots. My expression was of a million jangled nerves begging for respite. My mustache was starting to grow back in. I might as well start talking about the giant white van I had outside, full of candy.
But kids liked candy, didn’t they?
“Tyler,” I said, crouching down, trying to look him in the eye. “You like candy don’t you?”
He sniffled some more and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Nasty.
“What’s your favorite candy?” I went on.
Tyler thought about it. For once, he looked calm. In fact, he looked like he was in his element, picking out the sugary sweets that would lead to his early on-set diabetes.
“I like Whatchamcalits,” he said. Which was a total lie, since the only reason people liked Whatchamacalits were because of the name. “And Butterfingers.”
“Nobody better lay a finger on my Butterfinger,” I said in my best Bart Simpson voice. Okay, now the kid was looking at me like I grew an extra head. I pitied the generation who grew up without Bart as a role model. “All right, how about I promise you all the Whatchamacalits and Butterfingers in the world, if you stop crying and start manning up.”
“Do you have a doggie?” he asked, ignoring me, his eyes now focused on the pet stuff around us.
“Uh, yes,” I said, somewhat proudly. “His name is Fat Rabbit.”
“I want to see him,” Tyler said, sounding more forceful by the second. He even stamped his foot a little.
“Well, how about we wait for your mommy and then I can take you back to my apartment where you can pet my dog and I’ll give you lots of candy?”
“Really?” he cried out, his smile wide and all gap-toothed.
I straightened up. “Uh, yeah, totally.” Oh, I was going to hell.
“Mommy!” Tyler suddenly cried out and barreled past me. I whipped around to see a pregnant young mom in purple velour and bling staring at me utterly horrified. She held her arm out for Tyler, who jumped into her, wrapping himself around her leg.
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, a stack of magazines in her red basket. “What the hell were you doing with my son?”
She had all the tact of a viper. I immediately raised my hands in defense and starting cursing Perry for leaving me alone with the munchkin.
“It’s okay, I was just getting to know Tyler here,” I told her. Apparently I worded it wrong, because her eyes narrowed into reptilian slits and I knew I was about to get bitten.
“What were you doing with my son?” she asked again, spitting out the words like ninja stars.
I tried to put on my most handsome face, which usually worked with women. Not with her though.
“He was lost, my girlfriend…well, no my friend. Roomate. My partner! Yes, my partner, she went to go get help, to see if we could find you.” I could not sound stupider if I tried.
“Mommy,” Tyler tugged at her terry-cloth sweatshirt, “Mommy, he told me he’s going to take me away for some candy and I can pet his fat dog.”
The next thing I knew, a handbag came swinging at my face. I only had seconds to react. I did not use those seconds wisely. The handbag in all its Guess monogrammed glory met with my forehead and I nearly went flying into the row of dog parkas.
“You sick freak!” the woman shrieked. By the time I could straighten myself and see again, she was gone, storming down the aisle in a huff, her Nazgul a leech at her side.
And there was Perry, passing by them with a smile on her face. They did not return the smile. She shrugged and kept walking, stopping in front of me.
“What happened to you?” she asked, completely amused. Not one ounce of sincere sympathy.
Now it was my turn to glare. “What happened? You left me in charge of Satan’s spawn and then Satan herself showed up, that’s what. I thought you were going to make an announcement.”
She was trying really hard not to laugh, her hand at her mouth. “I was, but the line was so long and I saw them together, so…”
I shook my head. “Figures.”
She punched me lightly on the shoulder. “And here I was under the impression that
