~Garbage Tortoise~
By Shamanic Shaymin

"I'll live through you, I'll make you what I never was
If you're the best, then maybe so am I
Compared to him, compared to her
I'm doing this for your own damn good
What's the problem?
Why are you crying?"

--"Perfect" by Alanis Morissette

"Are you sure you're going out in that?"

Upon his father's voice, the boy with glasses turned, hands in his pockets. His jacket was baggy and his eyes were solemn, and Loid waited for the trashcan to respond. Peering at his son from a crack under the lid, the man's eyes narrowed in thoughtful disdain. He wrinkled his nose, humming as if he hadn't yet had his morning coffee. Still Loid's father hid in the shadows, refusing to leave the shelter of his trashcan.

"You've been wearing that jacket for days. Hadn't you thought of putting on something else?"
"They laugh at my sweater, Dad."
"Well they'll laugh at you anyway. Have you been skipping again?"
"I can't."
"Precisely. Now I don't want to see another letter in my mailbox telling me you've been cutting class to steal rockets, okay?"
"Yes Dad."
"Right. Go get 'em."

The boy's replies were short and monotonous. While Loid left for the bus, his father sighed and held his knees in the darkness, mumbling under his breath. He was tired of complaints. But he could do nothing about it, and neither can his son. Each day was a trudge, a foot stuck in the mud dragged in a ball and chain as the hours passed and Loid returned from school. Sometimes in bruises. Sometimes in tears. Other times, the bus hadn't bothered coming to the little home in the swamp, and the man prepared scrap paper for yet another prescription for new glasses. You think he'd be stronger after all this bullying business.

But Loid never "toughened up". As the years at Twinkle Elementary strolled past, Loid remained as meek as he was the first day he came, submissive and afraid of other kids in the hall. Naturally, the teachers liked him. But when it came to children and their ilk, they twiddled their thumbs on their desks in oblivion, smiling to the boy and nodding it was best to "ignore them". Sure an expensive way of dealing with the little brats, Loid's father thought, his palm open as he accepted another pair of broken glasses.

The man had to admit; he'd rather be out there, being jeered by his coworkers and coming home with little pay, than sit home in his trashcan doing nothing but wait for his son to come home. Disgraced from Merrysville after a recession that scattered factory workers everywhere, he searched years for another job and still no one hired him. He envied Loid in the corner with books in his lap doing his homework; at least his son did work for a living. How humiliating it was, when Loid was stuck on a problem, that his own father couldn't understand half the assignments! Good thing he's smart enough to take care of himself. Something pinched his heart and it hurt. But the man made a sad frown... he couldn't deny it was true.

Loid's genius. It was his father's only comfort. Maybe, just maybe, if Loid could make it big, it would bring them both back from their rut. They could get respectable jobs, make a lot of money... They'd leave the swamp. With his son's brains, there would never be another garbage tortoise.

So why is he such a weakling!?

Loid's father clenched a fist, gritting his teeth. He put so much faith into the boy, and this is what he gets? It was hard enough getting him to school, for chrissakes! Loid should be grateful he was getting an education at all. Did he WANT to be like his father, ravaged in the streets like a bum? With all he did to give Loid the best of everything, the most his son could do in return is keep quiet and leave his trashcan in peace. So what if he was too weak to handle society? This is for his own damn good! If he's got a problem, deal with it! One more failure and it's--!

"D-Dad? Are you okay?"

A man with a messy mop of pepper-colored hair stood inside a trashcan, lid popped and collapsed on the floor. His face pink and wet, he gazed his son in the eye. Red eyes stared back with determined concerned, and somehow, Loid stood a little straighter. A boy and a girl waited by his side, and they were just as worried as he was. The girl, holding her pink hat to her chest, took a timid step towards him.

"Don't cry..." She trembled. "We're his friends. It's gonna be okay..."

~

It was the strangest visit he had in years.

Still, Loid's father sat on the porch, watching as his son left with Ninten and Ana. The man closed his eyes as a tranquility set upon him... he rather liked these kids. They were okay, he supposed. My sissy son sure got a crowd lately. The man admitted it was different not having Loid home for so long. But what did it matter? A red girl in pigtails stepped outside, loudly chomping into a biscuit. With an unamused glance, Loid's father kept an eye on the bitten food, a hungry growl in his stomach.

"Must be different, not having Loid watching over ya, huh?"
"I'm a grown man. I know how to take care of myself."
Pippi broke apart the biscuit, handing her half for him. "Want one?"

For a sweet second, he was ten years old again.