Wind-up toy (NOT MINE)

Chapter 4

I got a baby's brain and an old man's heart.
Took eighteen years to get this far.
Don't always know what I'm talkin' about.
Feels like I'm livin in the middle of doubt.

"Who do you want to bring with us?" I asked while maneuvering the car into the first gas station I saw. "The gnomes?"
"N-no. Not the g-gnomes, th-the little p-people!" Frank said. He was confusing me so much. How could I follow his deliriums if I didn't even understand them?
"Aren't they the same?"
"Wh-what you m-mean?"
"The little people you're talking about...aren't they the gnomes?" I stopped the car and changed my position so I could see Frank better. He grabbed his head and growled.
"Y-you're fucking k-kidding me, Gerard? D-don't you s-see them? Y-you think they l-look like damn g-gnomes, uh?" he spat angrily. It was kind of funny how he looked so innocent but could be rather foulmouthed when provoked.
"Uh well, they're so tiny that I can't really distinguish the difference. Would you tell me?"
"AGH! G-GNOMES ARE F-FUNNY LOOKING WITH B-BIG NOSES AND WEAR P-POINTY HATS! AND TH-THIS PEOPLE I-INSTEAD JUST L-LOOK LIKE N-NORMAL PEOPLE BUT VERY V-VERY S-SMALL! G-GET IT N-NOW??" he shouted, trying to keep his stare on me as much as his troublesome eyes allowed. I was astounded.
"Yes, I do get it now. Thanks for explaining it to me, Frankie! And of course they can come with us." I assented while getting out of the car.
"Oh, th-thank you! Haha, l-look at them j-jumping!" Frank had already freed himself from the belt and was kneeling on the floor, totally amused. I walked over to his side and opened the door. Then I offered him my hand which he took with a giant smile, hopping out of the car. I held the door open, remembering Frank's guests.
"Is everybody out? It looks like it."
"Y-yeah they are." he nodded. I headed for the station's diner still holding his hand, terrified of him running away and into the traffic or something equally dangerous.
"If someone asks something I'll tell them you're my little brother. So don't deny it, ok?" I instructed Frank.
"K-kay. B-brother."

While entering the place I guardedly studied our surroundings. You could tell it had once been a fashionable diner; but the formerly light blue walls were now a dirty gray and the white tiles on the floor were soiled and sticky, making walking through the diner a disgusting experience. Frank noticed it too, but seemed to be entertained with the 'squeesh-squeesh' noise his sneakers produced with each step. The roof looked as if it was about to fall in and there were no lamps, just a few light bulbs hanging from loose wires. Tables and chairs were made of worn out, blue plastic.
The smell of beer reached my nostrils. I was craving it. I knew I shouldn't yield but I wasn't sure if I'd be able to resist. Maybe just one. Couldn't do any harm.

"Hey, fag! You could have chosen a better place to bring your dolly, don't you think?" a drunken voice drew me out of my quandary. It was followed by a choir of laughter coming from the other customers.
"He's my brother for your information." I replied shortly.
"Of course!" another one vociferated. I looked over at them for the first time. Sweaty, hairy motorcyclists with their obligatory leather jackets, even when it was midsummer. Then you had the truck drivers, better suited to the warm climate with their sleeveless shirts. They were all drinking beer from tall glasses. I was licking my dry lips when I heard Frank's voice.
"Y-yes, he's my b-brother. It's t-true!"
"If...if you s-say s-so...hahaha! Oh, how s-sweet!" the fattest of them joked, making fun of him.
"What is this little guy on? Look at his eyes!" the one next to him added.

I acknowledged Frankie squeezing my hand. He was trembling, eyes fixed on the floor and his breathing loud. I felt tempted to say something back or, even better, punch the fat one; but I opted for being realistic: I had no chance of surviving. Instead of that, I dragged Frank to the other side of the place where the ramshackle counter was. He was applying resistance, glaring at the men with loathing.

"Wh-why you d-didn't let me k-kick their asses?" he asked me once we were in the line to get our food.
"What? Are you serious, Frankie? Don't you see those guys? They're huge!"
"M-my army of l-little people w-would have b-beated them!" he rolled his eyes, standing proudly with his hands on his hips. I couldn't help laughing. He didn't like it.
"D-don't fucking l-laugh or I...I will t-tell them to a-attack you too!"
"Oh no, please don't. I'll stop laughing but no fights, ok? We're here to eat." I forced a straight face.
"F-fine. B-but they're h-hungry so you b-better get them s-something." he pouted. I replayed his words in my mind. Was he meaning that I had to buy food for his little friends too?
"Frankie...I can't buy something for them."
"Wh-why not? They're h-hungry!" he was indignant.
"Because I don't have enough money." I explicated.
"B-but...they're p-pretty small! J-just one b-burger for all w-will be enough!" Frankie insisted. I rubbed my face, annoyed. Not because of him though; I had it clear that I couldn't blame him for being noisy. I was annoyed by the situation. I wanted to please him, he wasn't really asking for much, but I was completely broke.
"I'm sorry, I can't even afford that. We still have more than two days ahead, so I need to save. Don't they have money of their own?"