(unedited)

I knew my mother had come around to the house when I woke up on Saturday morning to see the last of my closet along with my records and record player placed neatly placed on the floor, Pam's handy work no doubt.

But when I got up she was gone and uncle Mario was seated by the table, Pam across from him with breakfast on the table and yet no mom in sight. She must have dropped it off early and made a run from it and by the looks on my new guardians faces my suspicions were right.

"So what you doing today kiddo?" My uncle asked as I dished myself an omelette.

"I don't know." That was a lie, I did know, I would probably sort out my records and lay in bed the whole day.

"Well, I'm going to the hardware store if you want to come?" Mario suggested.

"Or you can come with me to the flea market?" Pam suggested as an alternative.

"Okay," Was the only word I could find.

"You wanna do both?" Pam asked slightly taken aback to which I merely shrugged. "Okay well go shower and get dressed, we leaving in an hour."

"Let the boy finish his breakfast first Pam," Mario rolled his eyes at his wife who was getting way too ahead of herself.

The rest of breakfast was filled with small talk of whatever was going on in the newspaper and what aunt Pam was hoping to find at the flea market. Scoffing my omelette down to retire to what was now my room, I guess.

The first thing my eyes found was my records, the second thing was the window where just across the way I knew Brady would be doing whatever Brady does. Grabbing a new shirt and pants from the black bag my mother had stuffed the last remains of me as I headed to the bathroom to shower up.

The cold water pebbling down on my back a much-needed refresher from the heat. My mind lulling over the week and the unexpected car-pooling situation I had found myself in. Brady, what a strange creature, I thought to myself in the shower before realising I should probably not be thinking about boys in the shower.

I need a smoke.

It was my cue to get out of the shower as I wrapped a towel around my middle. Going over to the tiny little pink sink where I brushed my teeth every morning, the sink matching the bath which matched the shower and that matched the pink tiled floors. It all comes together to scream PINK.

I, myself, liking pink as much as the next gay guy but knowing it was not inapt for a bathroom colour scheme.

Looking in at my narrowed eyes in the mirror as I brushed down my premolars. My eyebrows sharp and the hair which fell in front of my eyes ink black. With a sigh, I spat, rinsed and got dressed. Going back to my room where my eyes once again caught my records and then the window. Knowing I would find what I'm looking for in yesterday's pants as I took out a smoke and walked over to the window in a different pair of black rip jeans and a black long sleeve shirt.

The nicotine feeling like heaven in my lungs as I gazed across the alleyway to spot just the person I was looking for, he sat on his floor next to a pile of comics in his Superman pyjamas. His curly hair messy as his squinted eyes ran over the page of the book which sat neatly and undisturbed in his lap.

"You know it is not the pyjama's that gets me, it is the matching slippers." I quickly caught his attention as he looked up from his task at hand to glare at me.

"It came as an ensemble." He started getting up off his floor to stand by his window.

"Where is the cape?" I asked sarcastically.

"In my cupboard." He replied seriously. "Smoking again I see."

"Reading comics again I see." Knowing who was going to win before this game even started and it was not going to be him. Taking a deep breath of my cancer stick to prove a point, which only made him roll his eyes.

"You know there is this one I think you would like," Brady said.

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Yeah, gimme a second." He said before disappearing from sight. There were a few comedic shuffles and a couple of grunts before he emerged once again victorious with the comic book in question in hand.

He, being careful when he climbed out of his window and onto the fire escape. Realising what he was doing I stamped out my cigarette and did the same.

"Hulk?" I asked questionably?

"Hulk #181." He smiled like I was supposed to know what that meant. "Hulk #181 has the first appearance of Wolverine."

"Wolverine?" I asked again.

"Just read it, I think you guys have a lot in common, both broody bad boys with sharp fingers." He laughed like it was an inside joke he had with himself.

"Okay, fine." I tossed the comic from the fire escape onto my bed and when I looked back at Brady he looked like he was just about to have a heart attack.

"Handle it with care." He whimpered as though it pained him to see his children's books handled in such a way.

I merely shrugged. "I have to go, I have a thing."

"Okay, well tell me what you think when you finished it," Brady suggested to me, his reply in the form of a nod as I climbed back through my window ready to go through whatever hell Pam and Mario were going to put me through.

Seeing the comic book lying innocently on my bed as I pick it up, shimming through the pages and finding nothing interesting.

I was still not sure what Brady sees in them.

"Come kiddo, we're leaving," Pam called from the kitchen where she and Mario were waiting for me. Leaving the children's book in the rear view mirror as we drove to the market.

"You'll find something that you like. I just know that you will," my aunt tells me with confidence. Honestly, I really didn't care as I sat in the backseat of the slightly used older model BMW.

The market, if you can even call it that, only a couple of blocks away. Upon arrival, being hit with the lacklustre clutter of tables all putting on display whatever trivial item they were begging us to buy. Pam seeing to know everybody, conversations flourishing at every table we stopped at. At first, I tried to join in, until I realised I did not care about conversations of grandchildren and where Susan or Greg had gone the weekend.

So instead of enduring such torture, I went on ahead of them. Walking by a table, from which I could gather, sold VHS tapes and movie posters; mostly old westerns. Passing a few more tables; some sold jams, some sold loaves of bread, some homemade knitwear and so the list went on.

Nothing catching my interest, ready to go find Pam and Mario when something caught my eye. A toy shop, more so a figurine shop and a figurine I remember seeing on Brady's children's books. I didn't know which one though. Going over to the stands which were filled with, what I can only assume, were comic book characters. Seeing the green buff dude from the comic book he had given me not even an hour ago.

Debating with myself whether I should get him one or not.

"Can I help you?" The middle-aged man with a five o'clock shadow covering his visible double chin, the comic book shirt he wore stretched over his full stomach, and he probably lived in his mother's basement, asked.

"Do you have a wolverine figurine?" I asked as the man struggled to get up off his camper chair, which looked like it was working harder than him. He gave a hum as he looked through his collection under the table, giving a little "ahh" when he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a little man with a yellow suit and knives coming out his hands.

Not sure if I should be offended that Brady thought I looked like a man who willingly wore that spandex that tight.

"I'll get it." I nodded, taking out some crumpled notes from my pocket.

"That is a good choice, this one is a collectible." The seller tells me as he gives me back my change and the now bagged action figure which I carry back to Pam, who was exactly where I left her while Mario was missing.

Not sure why exactly I bought the action figure and the more I thought about it the worse the idea got in my head.

"Oh, you found something!" I hear Pam before I see her.

"Yeah," I shrugged, "Did you get anything?" The question caught Pam off guard but she quickly collected her shock as her face lit up with a smile.

"I got a new TV for the apartment and some homemade bread." She chirped.

"Got the TV in the car." He huffed slightly, looking a little annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah we will go to the hardware store now, stop being impatient," Pam said.

Making us walk around the tiny marketplace for another hour before we left. Mario taking his time filtering through spark plugs and Chevy parts, which I learnt was for an old Chevy hatchback he was rebuilding.

"You should help me with it some time or another," Mario suggested as I gave him a nod. Not really knowing anything about cars, but he did not seem to care.

Mario, clearly trying to step in as a father figure in my life, seeing as my own old man did the old runner. It was strange, not bad, strange, just strange.

Our little outing ending with Mario taking us out for a late lunch at the local diner and most of what was left of the day was spent putting in the new TV. Pam standing on the sidelines blurting phrases from the manual well Mario yelled at her that he knew how to do it. Which he obviously did not because it took us over three hours to install it. After installing the new one Pam then telling me I could put the old TV in my room, saying that if we put it in theirs Mario would never leave the bed.

All in all, it was a good day, ending with me falling onto my bed with a sigh. Feeling the comic book pages crinkling against my back as I am reminded it was still on my bed where I left it. Sitting up as I held the book, which was only mere pages long, with a sigh I opened it to the first page and began reading.