Bean

That night, as the group lay in the crawl space they used to sleep in these days, Bean did his best to keep watch for something out of the ordinary. Something was wrong, he could tell that. He just didn't know what.

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, he was immediately aware of three things. One, he was scared. Two, he was too scared to get back to sleep tonight. Three, he didn't know what was making him feel like this.

So, he got up and went into the alley to pee.

Except, he wasn't alone in the alley.

He nearly froze in place, before he recognised that it was Poke.

This was the first time the two of them had been alone together since that day when they had first talked. Poke, of course, insisted that he turn his back as she went for her pee. Of course preventing lines of sight doesn't stop ears hearing things.

They converse at some length about fears and what Bean might be scared of. Bean isn't really paying attention to most of the things coming out of his mouth, let alone what Poke is saying and he throws out a whole load of (he will admit) crazy ideas. The one thing he's certain of, though, is that Poke's lying to him. About something. About why she's outside. About who she hopes to meet.

When she tells him to go back to sleep, something he knows is not going to come, he studies her for a long while, before he obeys.

Or rather, appears to obey. He duly entered the crawlspace where they slept, but immediately left via a back route onto the rooftops. He got to the edge of the flat roof just in time to see Poke slip out of the alley. So, he was right. Poke was going to meet someone. The only question that remained was, would it be Achilles or Ulysses that she was meeting?

Bean tracked her to the dock at Scheepmakershaven where she stops and looks around. Sure enough, someone else was there. A boy. But still, it could be Achilles or Ulysses. A boy who wrapped his arms round Poke and kissed her.

What? This is odd. Really odd. That's something adults do, not children.

From his hiding place deep in the shadows where the Posthoornstraat meets Scheepmakershaven, he could hear the two of them talking, but the noise of the city meant he needed to be closer, if he wanted to hear what they were actually saying.

He crept around in the shadows, working his way closer to the pair, careful to keep deep in the shadows, so there was no way they would see him there. He could hear snatches of their conversation now.

"You promised." Poke said.

All Bean could hear as a reply, was a low mumble.

Then, a spotlight scanned across the riverside, throwing light onto the face of the boy Poke was with.

Achilles.

He slipped away up the Posthoornstraat. He now had all the answers. He didn't understand how it could happen, but it had. And yet, still his heart leapt with fear that something was wrong about all of this.

Poke had been lying. But she wasn't the only one. Achilles had been too. He'd been hiding something. Was it as simple as this? Achilles could do this openly, other bullies did. So why the bluster? Why the concealment? It didn't make sense. And, Achilles promised something. What did he promise? What could he give her that he wasn't already? What was he holding back? Nothing, as far as Bean could tell, so it wasn't a promise to give something or do something. Maybe it was a promise not to do something. Not to kill her? If it's that, then going off alone with Achilles would be too stupid, even for Poke.

Not to kill me, Bean realised. That must be the promise.

Except, I'm not the one in danger. Not in the most danger, anyway.

I said 'kill him', but Poke was the one who knocked him down, who stood over him with a stone in her hand. Who was about to wipe out his life at my provoking, until I stayed her hand.

Achilles was tough. Even with his gimp leg, he made it to the ranks of bullies, though always last, always mocked and jeered. And then, he was set upon by a group of little kids, and a nine year old threatened to kill him. That, surely must have been the lowest moment of his life. And who does he have to prove his superiority over, if he's to wipe that out? Poke.

Now, the depth of Achilles lies and scheming became clear to Bean. No doubt he'd face Ulysses tomorrow. But, he'd have a far greater grievance to throw at him than mere threats. He killed Poke! And Achilles would strike Ulysses down. And none would blame him if he killed him. Because it would be self-defence, the defence of his family.

Bean ran. As fast as he could, back to the docks.

Achilles was much smarter than he seemed, as well as being patient enough to wait for someone to blame it on.

There was no one there at the dock, and Bean began to doubt his instincts. Maybe he was wrong?

Then, he walked right up to the edge of the docks. There was something in the water, bumping against the wharf.

Once class was out, Sergeant let Bean know where he stood.

Bean, knowing that this was coming the moment he realised his mistake, left. Hopefully not for good, or even till after breakfast, but that would be a matter to wait till morning.

That afternoon, he wandered the streets alone, despite his determination that he wouldn't be. Still, Achilles would be focusing on the other little ones, working with them, helping them with their schooling, as he did these days. So there was little chance he would be out for Bean. And almost certainly, he wouldn't do it with Carlotta around. Carlotta who would want to know where Bean had gone.

Still, he needed to be careful, the other papas, particularly the ones who struggled to hold on to a family, would undoubtedly have taken special notice of the smallest, potentially making him the most memorable. And while Achilles would probably not grieve, remembering that Bean had been the one to say 'kill him', he would certainly appear to.

Even so, even in the danger he was in, he couldn't resist the opportunity to find out how the other groups worked.

Ultimately, the answer was easy to find out: They didn't.

Not well, not the way Achilles got their group to. Instead of love, admiration and the desire for approval Achilles used, the other papas used force and fear, falling back into their bullying ways.

Somehow, possibly by sheer dumb luck, Poke had chosen right. Because Achilles wasn't just the weakest bully, but he had also been the smartest, one who understood loyalty and how to earn and hold it. All he'd needed was a chance. A chance Poke, Bean and Poke's crew had given him.

He pondered these things, and the way Poke was beginning to understand the way Achilles was marking her out among the group and it was not a good thing. There, curled up behind a newspaper stand, he had the luck of being in the right place at the right time to hear a conversation start up.

It was a group of bullies, none of whom he could put a name to immediately, just by voice, and he had absolutely no intention of risking revealing that he was there by moving to try to see their faces. The content of their conversation was enough. Ulysses, the one that Achilles had picked on that first day they'd gone to the kitchen, was now out of hospital, and out for vengeance.

Once the group drifted apart, he ran, as fast as he could to find Achilles.

Well, that was interesting.

The most interesting thing really, was that when he came back, no time had passed at all. That was odd, but had some serious opportunities to be useful, though it wouldn't help him escape Achilles murdering him.

He survives by never being alone.

It's the easiest thing to do. He's careful to make sure that one of the other kids of the family are well within sight. Preferably arms reach.

The other thing he does, is to avoid, at all costs, being seen alone with Poke. That is not an image he wants in anyone else's mind. Him and Poke together. The two Achilles has identified as not so much a part of the family, by refusing to share their bread, going off into some corner. No. That sort of idea cannot begin to spread, even if it's completely untrue. Therefore, minimal contact is the way to go if he wants to be as unobtrusive as possible, and keep feeding from this feast being presented.

Except, there is still one thing bugging him. One thing that seems to need something doing about it. The other bullies are not 'getting used to things', despite what Achilles may say. They simply aren't. He can see the hate in their eyes every time the family walked to the front of the line. Something needs doing. And, Achilles, content and certain the war is over, isn't going to do it.

So, one morning, he makes a decision. This needs something doing about it. He's not quite sure what he's going to do, but something needs to be done. If it just provokes the bullies and they kill him, so be it, it was only a matter of time before Achilles kills him anyway.

Time to stop thinking, and just act.

That morning, he deliberately picks a place right at the very back of the group, putting him right under the nose of what otherwise would have been the front bully. And he waits. He waits patiently with that hate-filled stare glaring at the back of his head. He just watches the policeman on the door, who was watching as the line grew, keeping him safe for now. Then the door opened, and as they all filed in, looking at the lady who had opened the door, Bean had a brainwave, an intuitive leap he couldn't explain.

Time to stop thinking, and just act.

So, right in front of the lady on the door, and Achilles, who was chatting with her, beaming at his family, Bean opened his mouth, for maybe the third time in front of Achilles since the day he'd said to kill him. He turned to the bully behind him, and with his loudest voice, asked,

"Where's your children? How come you don't bring your children to the kitchen?"

Stupid people are so easy to manipulate. The lady looked delighted at the idea, and the bully, being stupid as stupid as she was (possibly more), went along with it.

"They let people with little children come inside first!" he piped up.

Once again, the lady was delighted, and made it a rule of the line. Job done, as far as Bean was concerned. He went inside and got his soup and bread.

They had a daily ritual, after breakfast at the kitchen, Achilles had implemented it, partially because it made sense to stash their bread and leave, rather than stay and risk the bullies, partly because Achilles hadn't actually had any himself that first time, choosing to stay at the door, chatting to the lady, making friends again.

The ritual is a pretty simple one. Achilles takes a part of each bit of bread the group gathers from the kitchens. Except, Bean and Poke were excluded. Bean was under no illusions. They were the one's who'd threatened Achilles with death. They were the only ones under a death sentence. Even if Poke didn't seem to know it.

Bean saw the exclusion for what it was immediately, and stopped offering his bread. Why risk reminding people of the exclusion?

Today, though, he had to know what Achilles thought of him, given how bold and intrusive he'd been at the door. That meant risking it. So, he made a point of offering his bread with the others. It was a risk, but it was probably a risk worth taking. Otherwise, so what, he'd possibly lost it, but even so, his plan had brought him a few weeks and a lot of strength. So he made the point.

Achilles looked back at him coldly, "If they all bring little kids, they'll run out of soup faster."

Here was the crunch point. Bean hadn't been sure quite why he'd said exactly what he'd said, but it had done it's work.

"If they all become papas, they won't be trying to kill us," he replied. He hadn't even known that's what he'd been going for. But he knew, somehow, some deep instinct said that that was what would come.

It was an answer Achilles liked as well, given the way his eyes came to light as Bean said it and the fact that he accepted the offering. It didn't ensure his life was safe, but maybe he'd last a bit longer, as Achilles was no longer excluding him.

And as they kept eating well, Bean's muscles grew, and filled out, like the rest of them. The food was good and strengthening everyone else on the street could see it, the other ex-bullies would have no problems gathering 'families' of their own.

He wandered the streets, his body slowly wasting away, trying to see why everyone lived this way, what secret reason they had, when there was seemed to be an obvious solution to it right in front of them.

He listened to anyone and everyone, picking up enough Dutch and I.F. Common to understand everything he heard around him. He learnt to read the signs and markings on the trucks and stalls. Eventually, he came to the solution. There was no secret, they were just stupid, so they kept living this way. They were stupid, but he was smart.

He let his body waste away, as he studied the various crews of younger kids that came together for safety and strength in numbers. He watched them all from a distance, of course, saw which crews were good, which had a strong leader, which might be able to pull it off.

In the end, he chose Poke's crew. She wasn't the best leader. Indeed, in some ways, that was why he chose her. The significant fact about her, what set her apart from the other crew leaders, was that she was nice. On the street, nice kids died, they were too generous, gave away too much. Poke, was almost too nice to live. But at this moment, that really didn't matter. She was alive and of his options, seemed like the best. The most likely to give him something, anything, to eat. And right now, he really did need something to eat. So he clambered up onto one of the garbage cans across the street from where Poke was loitering, surrounded by her crew, as much as they were trying to pretend they weren't one.

He followed as Poke led a couple of bullies to a supply stash she had. See, this is exactly why his plan should be implemented, it sorted these sorts of problems out.

He walked up until he was directly behind Poke, and waited, expectantly. As the bullies ran away, chasing each other, Poke turned around and nearly tripped over him. Just as planned. Then, she kneed him to the ground. Not really in the plan, but he can work with it. She said something at him about not standing behind people. He ignored it, just got up and looked at her.

"No, you little bastard, you're not getting nothing from me, I'm not taking one bean out of the mouths of my crew, you aren't worth a bean," she said.

He was careful to frame his argument in context of the bullies Poke had just seen off, rather than the ones lurking anywhere, as the crew reassembled, but he began to shift the argument into the larger context, the way Poke had the same battles everyday, the same giving food away to any number of bullies, who, lets be honest have already eaten at the charity kitchens in the morning. Why shouldn't giving food to one bully, and have him keep the rest away work? He was flirting with death, the way he talked with her, but what was new there? He was flirting with death every day, in the struggle to survive. So, when she put him on the ground again, he stayed there, lying on the ground.

"You push him down, he not so big. You get your rocks. You be ready. Ben't you a soldier? Don't they call you Sergeant?" He replied, when Poke's second in command (effectively) asked about how they'd deal with multiple bullies.

"Stop talking to him, Sarge," said Poke. "I don't know why any of us is talking to a two-year-old."

"I'm four," he replied.

"What's your name?" asked Poke.

"Nobody ever said no name for me," he said. And it was true. In all the time he'd been on the streets, no one had ever said a name for him. No one had ever needed to.

"You mean you so stupid you can't remember your own name?" And now she was mocking him.

"Nobody ever said no name," he repeated.

"Ain't worth a bean," she said.

"Am so,"

"Yeah, one damn bean." That was Sarge, back in the conversation again.

"So now you got a name," said Poke. "You go back and sit on that garbage can, I think about what you said."

"I need something to eat," He, Bean, replied.

"If you get me a bully, if what you said works, then maybe I give you something.

"I need something now."

It was true, and she knew it, and he knew it, everyone present knew it. So, this was it, time to see whether he'd picked the right leader. Or whether he was about to starve to death while she walked away with his idea.