Page 19 - Tank

“In that moment, everything changed.”

Annabelle smiled at Matt. She seemed to understand the harshness of their early
lives. Understood and placed no judgements. Matt was relieved. For some untold
reason he wanted this young girl’s approval.
He began his story again. At this point telling the girl about Tank was a
compulsion. He had to tell the story. Had to tell her.
“The owner…,” Matt continued. Told Annabelle and her horrified momma all
about how the owner changed. How he kept his punishments to less harsh means.
The owner never beat another boy with either a wire rope or his belt ever again.
Did this mean they lived in harmony? Hardly. All it meant was as long as Tank
was around, the owner was less of an asshole. A lot less. And since Tank never left
the place, the owner minded his p’s and q’s.
Annabelle giggled at Matt. Asked him what p’s and q’s were. Matt joined her
laughter. Told her the owner simply minded his manners. Though as far as the
owner was concerned, Matt was no longer allowed to live there. Until Tank stepped
in again.
“We were tight, me and Tank,” Matt said. His eyes looked a thousand miles into
the past. Looked for the young man he was. The young men they were. “Stayed
close the rest of our lives.”
Matt continued to live at the home, but the owner cut him out of his side hustles.
Matt couldn’t work with the special group. He had to branch out on his own.
Which led him to doing what was called second story work.
Annabelle’s momma looked quizzical. Looked mortified once Matt informed her
most houses with security systems only had them on the first floor. And even if
they had them on the second, they never had them on roof access points.
Matt could get into a place and out while the residents were sleeping. Rob them
blind. He became so good he started to do the work for hire. It amazed him how
many people wanted their own houses robbed for the insurance money. Or their
businesses. Life was good for Tank and Matt. Until one faithful day.
“We were so close,” Matt continued. Told her how close he and Tank were to
leaving. They would age out in just three days. Three days and it was Matt’s
birthday. He would leave first, then Tank. The owner wouldn’t let them go until
then. He wanted to keep as much of the state’s money as he could get.
Only on this particular night, the owner came home drunk. The man was a mean
drunk. Everyone knew to get out of his eyesight when he had a snootful going on.
Annabelle once again giggled. Asked what a snootful was.
Annabelle’s momma didn’t want Matt to explain but Annabelle’s momma hadn’t
been a part of this conversation since the beginning. If Annabelle asked, Matt
answered. Funny how he answered to the little girl.
Matt began his story again. Told how the owner beat anyone who came into his
view. Used his belt on the ears of many of the smaller children. Tank left it alone.
Everyone knew the score. The owner would rant and rave and smack a few of them.
Then he would collapse on his own bed and sleep it off.