Brewin' in the Boroughs

Chapter 4

I know that so far I've put the authors notes at the end of each chapter, but this a little warning for the rest of the book. Despite the lighthearted first chapter, this isn't going to be a super happy, fun book. It wasn't intended to be, but it can't just start out bad. It also may seem like it moves quickly, I'm trying to avoid that but I'm not perfect, so if any of that bothers you, you don't have to keep reading. I'll be EXTREMELY sorry to see you go, but do whatever you like. This book might get a little sad and deal with the imperfections of the characters, but there will still be happy stuff, I promise!!! Anyway, I thought that I'd warn you guys now, just in case!

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Buttons stood, staring at the shack, debating whether or not it was worth it to go in. After leaving to live in the lodging house he'd never expected to come back again. His hands shook, and for a minute he thought about turning around and heading back to the lodge, but not wanting to have made the dangerous trip out to Hell's Kitchen for nothing, he took a deep breath and crossed the empty lot to the small shanty he'd grown up in.

He slowly pushed open the door, and poked his head inside. It was dark and Buttons nearly gagged, his eyes watering, at the overwhelming smell of alcohol, and other things that he chose not to think about.

As he moved further into the room he caught sight of the person he'd come to see. The man was laying on the dirt-caked floor and he slowly sat up. He blinked groggily and drew a hand across his grimy, unshaven face before looking up at Buttons.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" The man growled.

Buttons slowly stepped closer to him, but left the door open in case he needed a quick escape. Years of living here had taught him that was the only chance out that he'd get if his father lost his temper.

"Father? It's-it's me," Buttons spoke shakily. It'd been almost four years since he had seen his father and wasn't sure what the man would say to his child who had 'abandoned' him.

His father squinted, trying to get a better look at him. "Ben-Benjamin? You're Benjamin."

"Yes, it's Benjamin."

"What are you doing here?" The older man asked as he struggled to his feet and stumbled toward his youngest son.

"I came to see you." Buttons flinched as his father raised a hand toward his face, but the man didn't hit him. Instead he rested it on Buttons' cheek, drawing his son's face closer to his.

"You're a good boy, Benjamin," he said. Buttons' nose scrunched up in disgust at the heavy scent of alcohol that lingered on his father's breath. "You always were a good boy. You-you were my favorite. Did you know that your brothers don't ever come visit me? No, they don't care about me, but you do."

Buttons tensed as his father hugged him. "I'm so glad you've come back to live with me." At that Buttons pulled away from the man, taking a quick step back. "What's wrong?"

"That's not what I came for." Buttons spoke cautiously. Within minutes of being in his old home he had gone from being confident and strong, to being the scared young boy who had run away four years ago.

"Of course it is. You've come to help your father, and what a good boy you are for helping him." His father grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the rickety table that looked ready to fall apart. "Sit, sit down!"

"No, I'm not staying very long."

"Where are you going? It's going to be time for dinner soon. Maybe you can take me somewhere nice to eat."

"You don't understand! I'm not goin' to live here!" Buttons exclaimed. "I'm never goin' to live here."

"But Benny-"